#and it’s like what is the point of jeans Friday if I can’t wear my comfy jeans

[luminiamore]

I'm in an Eren mood, and just found your bomb fics🫶🏾!! I was wondering if you can do a tomboy/boxer(or weight lifter) reader who has a smart mouth with Eren, they're really competitive and always arguing(jokingly, because they both have smart mouths) it can smut or not whatever you feel🩷🩷

SUCKER.

best friend eren x boxer black reader

warnings: ex jean, eren HATES jean, pussy eating, recording, great sex/mean ren

a/n: doing a part two 🫶🏾

masterlist

Friday night, 11 p.m.

A small gathering was taking place while you were at Connie’s house. Your friends, including your annoying best friend Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Historia, her girlfriend Ymir, and your ex-boyfriend, Jean, were there. Your use of the term ‘friend’ for him is rather polite. You were here, drinking rather than mentally preparing for your match in the upcoming week at home.

You were lying on the couch. Eren lazily leaned his head on your lap, entertaining himself with random Instagram reels on his phone while holding a bottle of Cognac in his unaccompanied hand. Card games were being played by the rest of the crowd to entertain themselves. As you were all quite drunk, Connie made the decision to introduce a drinking game.

“Not gon’ play with them?” He whispers, the sound still rumbling against your exposed thighs.

You sigh, actually contemplating it. You probably would’ve said no if you were sober —scratch that—you definitely would’ve said no. You know that Eren wouldn’t play unless you did. His ego is too big to admit it, but he followed you around like a lost puppy. The only reason he came here was because of you.

“I might. Join me? We should keep a score to see who gets the most points.” You grin, head spinning when you abruptly shift your position.

“Compelling. What kind of points?”

“Isn’t this game like you have to answer a question or drink? I get to drive your beamer for a week if I answer the most questions. And you have to buy me new gloves for my match.” You poke his shoulder as you speak. You see his eyebrows raise up in amusement.

He snorts, “And what do I get if I win?”

“What do you want? And don’t say nothing crazy, I’ll fuck you up.”

At that, he gives an amused laugh, “Girl, please. You can’t even reach my face. Short ass.”

You flick his forehead with your finger, snickering when he groans a bit. “Reached it now, didn’t I?”

“You’re not funny. Nobody laughed, actually.”

“I did. Now, answer the question, fore’ I do it again.”

You get an eye roll and a sly smile on his pink lips as if he has come up with some devious plan. You would’ve started regretting this, but you’re not a quitter. You started this shit, and you’re gonna finish it through.

“You have to do anything I say for a week.”

You suck your teeth, “We not in some video on Pornhub, boy. Be for real.”

“Any video starring you and me in it would have Hollywood rushing to put it on the big screen. You be for real.”

That renders you silent. For a moment, no one says anything. Eren just stares intently into your eyes, waiting for your response.

“.. That’s what you want?”

“That’s what I want.”

There’s nothing much to say after that. You push Eren’s head up so you can stand, ass jiggling in the shorts you were wearing. As if by magic, he follows behind you, with you failing to notice his gaze drifting downwards to give your ass a drooling gaze.

They gathered in the living room and sat in a nearly perfect circle. You opted to seat yourself right next to where Sasha was sitting. Eren, of course, shoved Jean, who was sitting on the opposite side, to sit next to you. You would have said something before you and Jean broke up, but that isn’t your man.

Your relationship with Eren was a source of jealousy for him, leading to your split. For years, you and Eren had been friends; you had practically grown up together. Your moms had been friends, so by default, you two started hanging out every single day since grade school. The two of you were very close, extremely close. You slept in the same bed together; he was your first kiss, and you were his. You even lived in the same apartment.

You’re not oblivious. At least you don’t think you are. It was always clear to you that having a boyfriend would necessitate changes. The act of sleeping in the same bed and cuddling with Eren would necessitate changing. Eren reluctantly understood, but there are times when you wake up in the morning and find him fast asleep on your stomach.

Every day, Jean would complain about Eren being too close to you and how he doesn’t like him living with you. He suggested that you move in with him a month after you started dating. You two hadn’t even fucked yet.

You would never drop Eren, he was too important to you. So, it’s safe to say your relationship with Jean didn’t last long.

You ignore his gaze on you as you giggle at something Sasha said. Connie finally comes back with a stack of cards that say ‘Truth or Drink: Dirty and Sex Edition’ and a bottle of Hennessy.

“Ya’ll know the drill, answer the question, or take a shot. Don’t be pussy, though.” He addresses the group over music playing.

The game gets off to a fast start. The questions began simple, such as ‘Are you a virgin?’ or ‘How many bodies do you have?’ These are not things that should make anyone feel ashamed. Eventually, they became a bit more intimate, at least for you. You had 9 points, and Eren was in the lead with 12 points.

“Your turn, (☆).” Connie addresses you.

After pulling a card from the pile, the next question causes your breath to pause. Swiping the bottle, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the burn this drink will give you.

You’re stopped short by Eren, “Aht— you gotta tell us what the question says.”

“Not important.” You take a sip, gagging when the flavor finally hits your mouth. You’re too occupied to notice Eren quickly removes the card from your lap. When he reads it out loud, you almost choke on your spit.

“Have you ever hooked up with a friend?” In response to the rest of the group’s ‘Ooohs,’ he snickers at you.

You smack his head lightly, “Asshole.”

“Who you fucked, girl?” Sasha pokes at you. The attention is entirely on you, causing your face to flush in embarrassment.

“I plead the fifth.”

“Was it Eren?” Jean’s voice prompts a quick turn of your head. He looked so angry, so ticked that he could explode if you said one wrong word. You answered to avoid causing a scene,

“No.”

You’re nearly afraid to look at Eren, yet you realize he’s staring at you. His gaze was burning on the side of your face, making you squirm. Jean’s scoffing shows he didn’t believe you, but you’re not here to argue with your ex. Connie recognizes that you no longer want to talk about it, so he turns the spotlight on him when he pulls another card.

You’re about to send a grateful glance to him for that, but your body stiffens when Eren whispers in your ear,

“You just gonna lie to him like that?”

You grit your teeth, keeping your voice as low as possible, “Shut up.”

“What, you gonna protect his feelings?” Eren’s energy is condescending and irritable, to say the least.

“I’m protecting your frail ass ego. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you when I tell them you didn’t even make me cum.” You lie through your teeth, smirking, thinking you won.

You almost yelp when you feel a pinch on the side of your hips, “C’mon, mama. Your body never lies, especially not to me. Remember those pretty moans clear as day— ‘Oh, daddy! Right there— gonna cu-’”

Your hand covers his mouth, and you’re about to smack him again when you feel that stupid, cunning smile against your hand. You pause and sigh in relief when you realize that no one has heard him, as they’re too preoccupied with Sasha, who’s indulging in the bottle. No one except Jean, who’s practically seething in anger as he glares at Eren.

- -

It was now one in the morning. Most people were passed out because of how drunk they were. Only you, Eren, and Jean were awake, with Jean nearing sleep while staring at his phone. It goes without saying that Eren won the bet; he had no shame when it came to his sexual innuendos.

You’re about to get up from your seat on the floor, but Eren’s grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. You try to look at him but realize he’s not even paying attention to you. Instead, his eyes are intently focused on the shorts you’re wearing with a frown.

“You good?” You speak, thinking that your sudden voice will dislodge his gaze.

“Hmm. These shorts aren’t easy access.”

That’s the message the liquors are trying to convey -- it must be. You and Eren only slept together once, but you assured him that it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again to keep your friendship intact. He handled it well, perhaps too well. Almost like he was expecting you to say that. As if you hadn’t experienced heaven on Earth that night, you both returned to your normal lives.

“Eren, there are people here.” You whisper rather harshly.

He unbuttons the only button on your garments, “I don’t see anyone.”

“Jean is right there.”

“..Anyone important.”

Your eyes widen when he plays with the hem of your peaking panties now that your shorts are loose. He’s so stealthy with it, too, like he’s not doing anything wrong. You have to snap out of it when you realize you’re in a room full of friends. You slap his hand,

“We’re not doing this here.”

His response is quick, “Oh, so if we weren’t here, you would?”

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it somewhere else?” Jean is downright peeved by the sexual tension that is erupting between you two. At this point, he’s just annoyed. Annoyed that his suspicions were confirmed. You two are definitely more than just friends.

You freeze, failing to remember that he was still awake for a moment.

“Jean, it’s not like that-”

“It is like that. I might take you up on that offer, Jean boy.” Eren abruptly ends your sentence with a gleaming smile, making it clear that he’s only trying to annoy him. He’s petty like that. You’re tempted to hit him again.

“No, it’s not. Stop being petty-”

Eren turns to you abruptly, eyes zeroed in on your lips. His voice is purposely loud so Jean can hear precisely what he’s saying to you. “Will you let me eat your pussy again if we leave here, (☆)?”

You gasp, your pussy tightening a bit at how desperate his tone is. You really want to say yes, but you know that’s the liquor talking. It has to be. Jean scoffs, pulling you out of your daze.

You scowl and push his hands off you, “I’m leaving, and I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

When you stumble to stand, he watches you, his eyes fixed on the fatness of your ass and its movement. These shorts are a favorite of his. He sighs, his lips twitching as he speaks,

“Can I-”

“No.” And with that, you stumble off to the room, making sure to lock the door behind you.

Eren makes the decision to return to the couch in the living room to sleep. Jean’s eyes never leave him all the time, and when he catches him staring, he doesn’t fail to stare back,

“The fuck are you looking at?”

Monday afternoon, 3 p.m.

“Imma be real with you. I’m all for equality and shit, but seriously, you hit like a girl.”

The deep voice of your best friend flutters in your ears as you throw another punch at the hand he’s holding up. You’re both in the boxing ring at your local gym, practicing for your next match.

As always, your best friend is there to help you and throw some lighthearted insults your way.

“Eren, please don’t get fucked up.”

He gives a laugh, a genuine one that makes you roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? With those weak ass hits? Forgive me if I’m not shaking in my shoes right now.”

You throw another hit at his wrapped-up hand, harder this time. You can tell by the way his unwavering hands move a little. You grit your teeth at the fact that he doesn’t wholly stumble back.

“Yo,’ ass was damn sure shaking in your shoes when I almost folded you.”

“So, we lying now?” That little smirk that was forming on his face never backed down.

It almost irritates you how arrogant he is. Connie and Eren always get into these friendly play fights, never anything serious. But that’s just your best friend. If anything, you would probably chew up any other person with your mouth. Connie, for example. Not Eren, though; he always had something to say back.

“Every word that comes out your mouth is a lie.” Your whisper

“You not any better.”

You hit his hand again, “Now, what the hell are you yapping about.”

“Why would you lie to your little boyfriend yesterday?” His voice is low and calculated as he questions you. He was getting heated again.

“Ex. And I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to tell the man who’s been worried about us the entire time we dated that I got your dick wet.”

“Dated. Past tense. So, why the fuck are you worried about it?” Now, he holds your hands to prevent you from moving.

You huff, “I’m not rude, Eren. I have no beef with the man. Now, let’s keep practicing, please.”

You think he’s going to release your hands, but he only stares at you. Your heart is racing. Does he really feel upset about this?

It seems he is because Eren pulls your body out of the ring and drags you to the nearest locker room. The gym is closed today, only opened to the two of you because he’s friends with the owner. Now that he has you to himself, he has no worries about anyone ruining this moment.

You would have protested; your resolve is usually stronger than this. But it’s Eren. Your Eren. Your best friend who happens to be really good with his tongue, his fingers, and that absolute monster in between his legs.

Fuck it feels so electric when his tongue laps in between your wet folds, your body squirming on the bench he seated you on. You can’t stop twitching, your arousal just overflowing on his tongue.

“Thought this was a mistake? ‘It can never happen again’, that’s what you said right?” He lightly bites on your clit, relishing in the gasp you emit.

“Look at you now, letting it happen again.”

He pushes two fingers past your walls and rapidly moves them in and out, grazing your spongy spot. They’re curling inside you, and with every stroke, you feel yourself falling more into a haze. Your eyes start crossing as Eren stirs up your insides.

You whimper out, “S-Shut up. Shitt.”

“Oh, no. You’re gonna listen t’me today. Maybe we should send a video to Jean, show him everything he could never do to you.”

You hate yourself for it, but the thought of it gets you even wetter for some reason. With the way your best friend chuckles against your core as the squelching sounds coming from you get louder, he can tell, too. Your pretty brown pussy is just splashing on his face, he’s in love with it— in love with you.

He rasps out breathily, “Wet my face, baby.”

Your face twists as he works his fingers against your cervix. The sounds coming from you are simply divine. The heat in your stomach is palpable, and the heat in every crevice of your body is sizzling and electrified.

“Want me to fuck you, right? Cum then, (☆).”

It’s as if your body knows what he’s saying because you release immediately. Your body shakes when you squirt. Your addicting juices spraying all over his fingers— his face. Eren slurps up everything you have to offer, and its sounds are just so obscene that you’re sure anyone would know what’s going on if they just walked by the door. Your loud moans would probably give it away, too.

Eren deliberately takes his time creeping up to your panting lips and pulling his thick fingers out of your walls. Your breath is sucked out of your lungs when he kisses your lips. The taste of your essence makes your pussy drip as he sucks on your tongue. You love it, so drunk off the taste of him.

You frantically pull his hips onto yours, unaware that he’s already pulled his dick out. It’s not much for his tip to force itself inside of you. He has to do most of the work to fuck the rest of his inches in. You’re gasping against his lips, trying to moan, but he won’t let you. Every time, he swallows them.

It’s torture. He’s so thick that it stings a little. He gets a little impatient and slams into you all at once. Screaming in a muffled voice, you quickly press your hands on his stomach. He’s making your pussy sing some nasty noises that make you feel so good.

You’re squirming your body as Eren starts feeding you gut-punching stokes. That won’t do.

With a harsh grip on your wrists, he pushes them above your head with one hand. “I couldn’t make you cum, right?”

You huff, your eyes rolling back in your head when he abuses your cervix. It’s too late for you to realize when Eren takes out your phone. He knows your password and keeps thrusting in you when he opens Jean’s message thread. He scoffs when he realizes you haven’t yet blocked and deleted his number.

That catches your attention as your eyes struggle to settle on him, “W-What are you doing?”

He shuts you up by speeding up his movements. Shit. You almost choke on your spit when he leans his body on you so hard your legs are reaching your ears. The only inkling you get that he’s recording is when your ears catch on the sound it makes when he presses that red button.

You don’t stop him or even struggle against his hold. You can only morph your face into pleasurable expressions as he makes you feel euphoria. He sets your phone on the wall behind the bench, and he can see it’s showcasing the both of you. Good.

Eren, let’s go of your wrists to use both hands to press on the back of your thighs into the wood underneath you. You feel him deeper this way, his bulge pressing against your stomach every time his tip touches your womb. He finds joy in the fact that the camera captured that.

“Ren— baby— I’m g-gonna make another mess.” You whine, pressing on his stomach to stave off your impending orgasm—it does nothing. Nothing, but make him push harder so you can feel how deep he’s going.

“Go on then. Show the camera how messy you get for me and only me.”

Your breathing stutters, “Only you— fuckkk. S’too m-much”

“You love me, baby?”

You cum right then, choking on your moans as you barely get your words out, “Love you so much.”

He groans against your ears when he fills your pussy with his seed. It’s so much, too, so thick, you feel as if it’s coming out your throat. This is what you craved the most, the feeling of his cum stuffing you. You’ve dreamed about this since he did it for the first time.

Feeling worn out, you are basking in the afterglow while breathing heavily. Eren never takes his dick out of you, but he takes this moment to end the video and quickly sends it to Jean with a small message accompanying it,

she lied, lol. 😂

check out my store :D

[reiderwriter]

😝 brain rot from my character ai scenario… the team goes out to a bar to celebrate and you wear a tiny little dress (just to rile him up obvi) but you also end up attracting a lot of male attentionand he gets SO jealous and protective of you he’s like sitting off to the side just watching you flirt with everyone and the team is like “he looks like hes gonna explode wtf” and then the SMUT HES ALL “they can’t have you, you’re all mine” “you really like all the attention huh? i’ll give you what you wanted” OMG it’s making me crazy i hope i described it good enough 🥰🥰

A/N: Is it really a reiderwriter smut if I don't have to clarify that 'I got carried away' at some point in the authors note? No, it is not. Thank you for the request. My brain is now equally rotted, oops.

Warnings: complaints, dirty talk, semi public sexual activity, partial voyeurism, fingering, hard/rough sex.

You weren't even dating.

Which made the situation even more frustrating for Spencer, and even more exciting for you. 

You'd always flirted with the man a lot, had been told multiple times to knock it off even after getting a little too close for comfort on a case. 

But you couldn't really blame yourself on that one. You'd had to do a quick takedown at a dive bar, and you'd been tasked with pretending to be a touchy couple at the bar to block the back entrance at the staff entrance. 

You'd draped yourself all over him, allowing yourself to get closer than you'd ever been before. 

If you'd just happened to let your hands fall down to his crotch, it was pure coincidence. So was giving his obviously erect length a few strokes through his jeans as he sat staring at you like you were his last meal and he was back in prison. 

Emily had to pull you aside after that one personally. 

You knew she was protective of Spencer, seeing him as a little brother, but it seemed like she was more protective of you at that moment. 

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” She'd asked, waiting carefully for your answer before she said anything more. 

Two could play at that game. “What is this concerning?” 

“With Spencer.” 

“I'm not sure what you mean, Emily.”

“Yes, you do. Listen, I don't care what you get up to in your personal life, but Spencer has a way of making others feel very… seen. He can get protective and pushy. And I just want to know you're ready for that, and you're not going to let it affect your work.”

“Is Spencer having the same talk?” 

She laughed at that. 

“Spencer? No. I already know it's going to affect his work, because it has since you joined our team. He still gets his job done, but I know where his priorities would lie if there were an emergency.” 

You'd shivered at that and excused yourself. 

If he was that obsessed with you, why had he not told you? Stepped over that line from friends to more than that?

You needed to force the issue, and you had the perfect opportunity when Penelope invited you out for drinks. 

“Y/N! Don't go, it's Friday night, we-” she said gesturing wildly to the team gathered around you, “are going to a bar. No, you can't rain check either.” 

“Can I at least get changed first?” 

“You need to get changed. We're going to a nice bar, Y/N.” Running off again to grab the rest of your team members and force their attendance, you grinned after Penelope. 

It was time to see exactly how focused on you Spencer Reid was.

And how willing he was to let you slip through his fingers.

An hour later, you were stepping out of your taxi, pulling your skirt down as you did. The short black dress had a terrible habit of pulling up your thighs to flash your underwear at anyone in a 10 foot radius. Usually, that bothered you, but tonight, you planned on using it to your advantage. 

After all, you'd left out the underwear tonight for a reason. 

Pulling your jacket around you tighter, you pushed the door to the bar open and scanned the room for your team members. 

“Y/N, over here!” Tara called you over, nursing a beer. Luke sat next to her, Penelope on his other side, and Matt on hers and completing the group was Spencer Reid. 

“Where are JJ and Emily?” You asked, doing your very best to ignore Spencer as you sat down next to him, practically falling into his warmth. You sat so close to him. 

“At the bar. Emily is convinced she can flirt her way to a free drink, and JJ is convinced she cannot. The girl she's working on now has to be 22 at most, so it could honestly go either way.” Penelope answered, and you felt Spencer shift slightly beside you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Luke said as the two women approached. 

“Well? What's the result?” You grinned up at them, letting your head fall back against Spencer’s shoulder as you gently rested your hand on his thigh. He sat silently for a minute, not moving and just taking in the conversation. 

“I've still got it.” Emily grinned triumphantly. 

“Maybe I should give it a try. There are a few hot male bartenders tonight. Who knows, I might score more than just a drink.” 

Spencer choked on the drink he was sipping as you spoke quickly, a few knowing looks passing between every other person at the table. You'd have to be blind to miss it. Or Spencer. 

“Spencer, are you okay? You should be careful, I wouldn't want you to choke. That's how I want to end my night, but it's not for everyone.” That one earned you a few snickers from the others and a glare from the man himself. 

“I'm fine, thank you, Y/N.” He smiled down at you and gave your knee a friendly tap that turned slightly less friendly as he pushed it further up your leg. 

The others had since averted their attentions, moving their conversation onto other things, but you and Spencer were still stuck in each other's orbits. 

Your heart beat faster until you were sure it could be seen, raw and fit to burst out of your chest. His fingertips brushed your hem. He was seconds away from realising that you were going to get the attention you wanted that night. 

Slipping just an inch up the hem, he twitched almost imperceptibly as he searched for your panty line, brows knitting when he couldn't find it. 

“What's wrong, Spencer? Searching for something that isn't there?” You enjoyed watching his frown deepen as he registered your words, but you enjoyed it even more when you gently pushed his hand away as you stood. 

“Well, I need a drink. Let's hope I can recreate your success, Emily.” You said, finally pushing off your jacket. The dress may have been short, but it was also low cut, burning the candle at both ends as your breasts threatened to spill over with any particularly deep breath. 

“Sweet lord in heaven! You didn't come to play tonight.” Penelope exclaimed, practically applauding your body as you twirled for her and showed off the form fitting dress, giggling all the way. 

“You said it was a nice bar, Penelope. I'm hoping there are also some very nice men here, too.” With a wink, you turned on your heel and strode to the bar, making sure your hips swung seductively with every step. 

You couldn't immediately give in and turn to see if he was watching you when you got to the bar, though, not willing to give him the satisfaction. You were doing it all for him, but you still didn't want him to know that.

It didn't take long for men to swarm you. They came one at a time, and you entertained them each as you waited for your unnecessarily complex cocktail order to be prepared. 

In the 7 minutes you'd been away from the table, you'd been approached by three separate men. They all tried lines on you, gave you their numbers and tried their best to woo you, but with Spencer’s eyes burning across your body as you leaned against the bar, you really couldn't have cared less. 

Still, you leaned in, giggled in the appropriate places, and took the numbers, knowing they'd never be called.

When your cocktail was finally ready, and the last one offered to fund it for you  You finally felt a hand at your back. 

“That won't be necessary, thank you.” Spencer ended the conversation, handing his own card over to the bartender as he kept his hand on your back, his body crowding yours. 

The man walked away in defeat, and you turned on him, sipping your drink as you refused to move away.

“Now why ruin all my fun, Spencer?” 

“You're really enjoying all this attention, huh?” He said, pushing your hair behind your ear as he leaned closer to you, his next word a whisper against your skin.

“I can see your pussy from all the way back there,” he said, tugging down your skirt slightly. You weren't surprised though  simply taking another sip and maintaining eye contact. 

“I know.” His hand, having slipped up to your waist, tightened as his gaze dropped to your lips. 

“You want everyone to see your dripping cunt? Want to let all the men here take a turn trying to catch your attention so they can slip in?” His voice was low, practically a growl as he licked his lips.

“No. I wanted to see how long it'd take you to come over and do it. By my count, that was eight minutes, correct?” 

“Good girl. Just remember that you're mine. I'm not letting anyone else have you.” Giving your face a gentle stroke, he let it trail down your body, subtly cupping and squeezing your chest on the way down. 

“All of a sudden, I feel very tired, Spencer. Take me home.” He wasted no time, grabbing your hand and gathering you up, your jacket and bag collected from the desk as he gave minimal answers to the others as you departed. To their credit, they asked minimal questions. 

The cold air hit you hard as you pushed the doors open again, but Spencer was unperturbed, pulling you over to his car silently, a strong hand on your shoulder helping you into the passenger's seat.

You dare not talk the entire drive to his apartment, so sure that any word from you would have him turning immediately to deposit you right back at the bar. 

He didn't, though, but he also didn't look at you or touch you. You sat squirming at the heavy atmosphere, suddenly desperate to know exactly what thoughts were trapped inside Spencer’s impressive brain. 

“We're here.” He announced, pulling up quickly and cutting the engine, climbing out in a hurry. 

You fumbled with your own seat belt as he pulled your door open, catching you up in his arms as he closed the door behind you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him carry you up the stairs to his apartment.

His lips didn't meet yours until the door was firmly closed and locked behind you, and even then, he didn't immediately dive in. He out you down, and a touch of disappointment flooded your body as he completely entangled himself from you. 

It dissipated completely when his hand wrapped around your throat. 

“Let me be clear, Y/N. You are mine. If you want attention, I will give it to you. If you want to choke on something, I'm more than happy to provide it. If you want to dress like a little whore, go ahead, but don't forget who your sweet little cunt belongs to.” His fingers tightened with each word as you gasped for air, back resting on the nearest wall as his body pressed up along your own. 

“Do you understand?” He asked, and you nodded repeatedly, fast and desperate. 

“Good. Now, ass up on the bed. I'll meet you there.” You practically sprinted to the room in question, slinking up onto the bed. He said ass up, but you hesitated slightly as he quietly shut the bedroom door behind you, just long enough to earn a slap on your ass as he finally returned to your side. 

“You have to listen, Y/N. You wanted this, so you have to listen nicely.” 

“I'm sorry, Spencer, it won't happen aga-” He stole the end of your sentence as he slipped his fingers into you, gently working the two longest ones up into a frenzy as he finger fucked you. 

“Sorry, what was that? I don't think I quite caught your words.” You could only moan in reply as you buried your head in his pillows, ass pressing back into his fingers to help him get deeper.

“So needy. Look at this little black dress. You knew this was going to happen, right?” A third finger slipped inside you, and you screamed out in pleasure as he continued using you.

“Burying your head isn't going to work, Y/N. Your cunt is answering for you.” 

You heard the rattle of his belt unbuckling as his fingers finally slipped out, the emptiness only a relief for a second before his cock was hitting deep inside of you. 

Thoughts escaped you as you finally got what you'd been begging for for weeks. His every frustration was pounded into you as he tugged at your hair, pulling your torso up so he could hit even deeper. 

Pulling back your head with a hand on your throat he laid a barrage of kisses across your upper back and shoulders, making sure to bite and suck and nip as his spare hand toyed with your nipples, pinching and pulling. 

In a second, you reached your climax, not having the breath left in you to let him know before you tightened on his shaft and let your body fall limp under his hands. 

“I'm going to mop up our cum with this dress, Y/N, and then I'm going to make you put it back on.” With a final grunt, he pulled out, jerking his cock through his release as he shot his load right over your pussy lips. 

He collapsed on top of you, and you finally gave up your last bit of strength beneath him, enjoying the pressure of his weight pushing down on you again. 

“Thank god that worked,” you gasped, catching your breath. You smiled as he flipped you over and pulled the dress off your head, true to his word. 

“What worked, Y/N?” 

“This. You don't know the lengths I'd have gone to to get you yo finally fuck me if this hadn't worked.” 

“But suddenly, I'm curious, and I have all the time in the world.” You laughed lightly but snuggled into his chest again, meaning to sleep. 

“Unless you want to get dressed again now…?” 

[love-that-we-were-in]

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

1. 

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

2. 

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 

“I just think that hat is stupid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 

3.

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 

You’re kind of obsessed with it. 

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 

*

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 

[dancingtotuyo]

High Infidelity Part IV

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Joel goes on a date.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: pining, jealousy, masturbation (male and female), voyeurism, self loathing, emotional affair, boundaries crossed

Notes: Things are getting a little spicy hehe. As usual, shout out to my beta readers @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (special shout out to Ang for the ✨spicy✨ idea 😜) and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 4818

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

When Joel asks you to watch Sarah on Friday night, you don’t hesitate to say yes. Then, two minutes later you call him back and ask why. You’re surprised when he tells you he has a date. You should tease him, nag for details, but it’s none of your business. You find yourself wanting to know everything and nothing.

Joel is a grown-ass man. A single man at that, but it nags at you. Who is she? Where did he meet her? The two of you spend most of your free time together. In the six years you’ve known Joel, you can’t remember him ever mentioning a woman. 

His sole focus has always been Sarah. You suppose Tommy is on that list too, and Nathaniel. The two of you have matching worry lines thanks to your husband, and you guess by default you’re on the list too. If there’s one thing Joel Miller is committed to, it’s family.

Joel comes down in dark-wash jeans and a simple button-down. You didn’t know he owns jeans that nice, hugging his thighs, leather belt cinched at his waist. Your eyes rake over him perhaps a moment longer than needed. He hadn’t looked that nice at your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

You raise an eyebrow letting out a low whistle as he enters the kitchen. “Lucky lady.” You take a bite from your apple slice. You point the paring knife at his jeans. “Those new?”

Joel knits his eyebrows together. “No. Why?”

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“You keep tabs on my closet?”

“We’ve basically lived together for 3 years. You wear the same two pairs of work jeans and five ratty T-shirts in rotation. I wouldn’t be surprised if your shirts have the days of the week labeled on the inside.”

“Church clothes.”

You scowl. “We don’t go to church.”

“Speak for yourself, Darlin.” He chuckles, checking his watch, the one you gave him for Father’s Day. You shoot him a suspicious look. “The kids out back?”

“Yup.” You say, taking another bite of apple. 

Joel’s fingertips brush across your shoulders as he passes by, the warmth of his cologne fills your nostrils as he rushes out. A pit settles deep in your stomach. You’re not sure where it stems from, but you don’t like it. You feel uneasy. 

The back door shuts just as a tap on the front door echoes through the house. You sigh, not really wanting to answer it. The pit grows and you still don’t understand where it’s coming from. Sarah and Nathaniel’s muted laughter filters through as you open the door. 

She’s pretty you think. Not someone you consider to be a show-stopper, but exactly what you would picture Joel going for. There’s something almost familiar about her. She looks taken aback when you open the door. You plaster your well-practiced Southern hospitality smile on your face. 

“I’m Joel’s sister-in-law. Just here to watch the kids.” You hold out your hand. Relief floods her features.  

“Tracy.” She takes your hand.

“Nice to meet you.” You can’t shake the nagging air of familiarity about her. It itches your brain, hanging on the tip of your tongue. Have you seen her at parent pick-up before? “Joel should be back soon. He’s just saying goodnight.”

Tracy nods, clutch held tight in both hands. Maybe it makes you an asshole, but you don’t invite her in, forcing her to stand at the threshold of an open door. She wears a solid dress. Her makeup is tasteful and leagues ahead of anything you’d ever be able to pull off, especially with a rowdy toddler. 

For a second you miss it. The freedom that is. You wouldn’t give up Nathaniel for the world. Hell, you wouldn’t give up Tommy for the world even with the shit you’re going through, but the ability to go out at a moment’s notice and let the alcohol loosen your inhibitions, you miss that. Tracy couldn’t be much older than you. Maybe a year or two. Did you go to high school together? Is that why she looks familiar? 

There’d been a couple Tracys in your small high school, but none that look like her. 

“You have a son, right?” Tracy says. You nod. She smiles as if proud of herself for remembering the fact. “Joel mentioned that you two do a lot together- with his brother being in prison.”

“Yeah, we do.” Your shoulders stiffen and your smile tightens. So this wasn’t their first date. They knew each other well enough for Joel to divulge your business like it was front-page news. Though, you suppose it had made the paper. 

“Well, I got them both riled up for ya,” Joel says, walking through the house. He plays with the cuffs of his shirt before looking up. He seems startled to find the door wide open and Tracy on the other side. “Oh- Hi.”

“Hi,” Tracy laughs.

He looks between the two of you like he’s seen a ghost. You cross your arms, a faint smirk playing across your lips. “Just remember payback’s a bitch.”

“Yeah... I don’t doubt it.” Joel almost mutters it under his breath. He joins Tracy on the other side of the threshold, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek. “You ready to go?”

You catch the weirdness of Joel’s demeanor, familiar with all of his tendencies by now. You raise an eyebrow in question, but Joel won’t look you in the eye. His arm wraps around Tracy’s waist, pushing her toward his pickup. 

“Make yourself at home.” Joel throws his hand up in a wave despite his back being turned to you. 

“Always do!” You call back. 

You watch them until the truck is out of the driveway, confusion written across your face as you process the odd interaction. Why was Joel acting so weird- like you weren’t supposed to meet the mysterious lady he’d obviously been out with more than once, and why hadn’t he told you yet? And why did she look so damn familiar?

The moment the door clicks behind you, it hits. You freeze. The familiarity in her face is one you see every time you look in the mirror. She’s not your twin by any means, but Tracy could be your cousin, your sister even. Something you can’t place settles in your gut.

The kids are finally asleep. The TV drones on, but you don’t hear a sound of it. The whole interaction plays on repeat in your mind. You chew on your thumbnail. You can’t stop thinking about them, where they are, and what they might be doing. 

You glance down at your watch. 10:30. You don’t typically go to bed this early, and you’re not tired, but you can’t get it off your mind. Sleep is your only option for relief. 

Checking on the kids, you slip into Joel’s room. You’ve stayed in here more times than you can count as Joel always insists you stay in his bed. It’s automatic how you pull one of his shirts from the drawer. Not one of his five shitty work shirts but one of the well-worn ones he wears on the weekend after he showers. They’re soft. They smell like him, sawdust and old spice, not the cologne you caught on him this evening. You slip under the cool sheets, stretching out your bare legs and burying your face in his pillow. You’re surrounded by him here. 

You thought it would turn off the thoughts, silence your mind, but it doesn’t. If anything they ramp up. You know there’s no way Joel’s had her here. He wouldn’t bring a strange woman into his home, Sarah’s home, that quickly. No, it’s all him in here… and you. 

It’s just after eleven. You’re not asleep. Joel’s not home and your mind is running through the memories as it often does when you lay alone. You’ve spent more nights alone than with someone since you got married. You should be used to it, but you’re not. There should be someone next to you right now. 

Tossing and turning, an idea sparks in your mind. There’s one surefire way to get yourself to sleep. The mere thought sets desire through your veins. Goosebumps prickle your flesh. Your nipples perk up under Joel’s soft shirt. It’s been a while since you’ve touched yourself. 

Kicking the blankets off of you, you let your fingers skim over your bare thighs, moving them upward until your shirt is tucked under your breasts. Joel’s shirt. It has you pausing. This crosses so many lines. You can’t do this here, in your brother-in-law’s bed, in Joel’s bed where it smells like him. Where it feels like him. 

Your cunt clenches and a soft groan escaped from your lips. You’ve barely touched yourself, not enough for that response. Your heart rate refuses to calm down, the flame of desire already spreading from deep in your stomach. You shouldn’t do this, not here, but your fingers trace up and over your sternum again, slipping under Joel’s shirt. You brush your thumb over the hardened buds. You’ll change the sheets tomorrow. He’ll never know. 

A soft moan tumbles over your lips. Your body moves of its own volition, pressing into your touch. Your hands move down and across your skin. You run them over your favorite places to be touched, everywhere except where you want to be touched the most. You avoid it, waiting until your panties start to cling to you, excess moisture soaking into them. A finger runs over the seam of your lower lips. Another moan falls from your mouth, hips bucking up. 

You push down your panties, flinging them off once they hit your ankles. Your fingers slip between your folds. You’re slick, spreading it up and down, over and around your clit as need builds in your body. Another moan threatens to fall from your mouth, each one growing in volume. You bite down on the collar of Joel’s shirt. Another whiff of him overtakes you. Your cunt clenches as you finally slip a finger in and then a second. 

The house is dark when Joel gets back. He feels like a dick. He’d been distracted the whole time. He saw it the moment he spotted the two of you together- the resemblance. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, and even more when he couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole night. There’s nothing wrong with Tracy. She’s perfectly nice, but the bubble has popped. She’s not you. He won’t be seeing her again.

It doesn’t help that he knew he’d come home to a dark house. He knows you’re asleep in his bed right now in one of his shirts, and Lord help him, it kept him distracted all night. 

He’s quiet as he walks up the stairs so as to not wake you or the kids. He stares at his bedroom door, taunting him. You’re in there and he knows what you feel like sound asleep in his arms. You haven’t talked that night. In fact, you’ve acted like it never happened and he’s followed suit. He wonders if he could slip behind you now. If you would let him hold you. 

He lets out a long sigh, fighting with himself. He needs to slip in, grab a pair of sweats, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to pull himself out. He can sleep in his boxers, maybe find some sweats in the laundry. His hand drops from the door. 

He’s going to walk away. He’s not going to cross that line again. That’s his brother’s wife. The woman Tommy told him to take care of. He has to stop this. He can’t- and then he hears it. Soft and quiet at first. A soft gasp that hitches, like it got caught on something. 

He freezes. It’s probably nothing, a dream, his imagination. Then he hears it again, this time pitched lower, like it comes from a deeper place. He can’t discount that one. As much as his brain screams at him to go, run, his feet stay anchored to the floor. He’s desperate to hear it again, and he’s rewarded with another moan. 

They’re intentional. You’re doing that to yourself in his bed. He bites his lip, hand falling to the door frame to stabilize him. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be envisioning you spread out on his bed, toes curling against his sheets. The blood rushes straight to his cock and Joel knows he’s about to cross a line he can’t come back from. 

Another moan comes out of the room. He flips open the button of his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband stroking his already hard cock. Maybe it makes him a creep, but he’s never been more grateful for the thin walls in the house. 

Your noises of pleasure grow. Joel bites back his own, nails digging into the door frame. Precum leaks from the tip of his dick. He catches the way your moans grow more desperate as you take yourself closer. He works himself to the edge with you, wanting to hold off until you’re there. 

You’re so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers glide over your clit with ease, soaked with your slick. You’ve been pushing the images away the whole time, trying not to go there, but the closer you pull yourself to bliss, the harder it is to keep them at bay. Your eyes drift shut as you lean into the feeling, willing yourself over the edge. They flash in your mind, pictures of him over you, calloused hands running over your bare body, his deep baritone in your ear as he pulls you apart. The tension between your thighs breaks free. You don’t realize how loud you cry out, ears ringing with pleasure as his name effortlessly rolls off your lips. 

You lay there, still, chest heaving. Not Tommy’s name. Joel’s. 

Before you have time to comprehend what just happened, it breaks through the silence. A soft, bitten back moan on the other side of the door in a tone you can only recognize as his and the faint whispers of your name. Your eyes widen. Had he…? 

Your brain races with the possibilities as you lay bare, tshirt pushed above your breasts. He could walk in. You hadn’t locked the door. You could open the door to him, take his hand, invite him into his own bed. 

You cringe. When did you become this person? The one who lusts after another man while married? As much as you’re ashamed, you fight against the temptation. You want to give in. You want to be touched and desired again. You’d seen it in Joel’s eyes that night at the beach. He would give you what you needed. Before you can make a decision, you hear the steps creak. He’s walked away. 

You let out a deep breath, not sure if you’re disappointed or relieved. You roll over, burying your  head in Joel pillow, wrapping yourself in his comforter, cunt still slick and dripping. 

Lucky for Joel, he’s able to find clean sweats in the dryer and then starts the washer with his jeans and boxers, washing away all evidence of his sins. 

He settles on the couch with just the decorative pillow and throw blanket. It’s hot anyway so the blanket is quickly kicked to his feet. He can’t put it out of his mind. Any of it. You. 

He tries not to think about the sounds you made in his bed, the things you did. He tries not to think about you asleep in his arms, but with all things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do. 

Joel has accepted that he’s not a good man. His intentions with you are no longer pure, but self seeking. Yes, he cares for you and your well being, but he wants you. He needs you near him. He needs you to realize he’s been here through it all. That Tommy has done nothing to be worthy of you. Joel has spent more of your marriage being your husband than Tommy has. 

He clenches his fists. Anger surges through him. Joel doesn’t care if it makes him a bad person. If he had a way to go and turn back time, he would. He’d find a way to meet you before Tommy did. He would make you his. He would save you from the heartache of being Tommy’s wife. You would be his Mrs. Miller. 

Joel wishes he’d kissed you at the beach. He wanted to. God knows how badly he’d wanted to. It took every last ounce of self control not to. His stores are depleted. Between that and tonight, Joel has no more restraint to offer this situation. If you ever give him the chance again, he won’t hold back. He doesn’t care that you’re married to his brother. You deserve better. You deserve the world. Joel believes he can give it to you. 

You both sleep better than you have in weeks. 

“I never understood back to school nights,” Joel grumbles, stuffing a store bought chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and washing it down with cheap faculty room coffee. “Want some?”

“You know I don’t drink caffeine after two.” 

Joel shrugs, taking another sip. “It’s not that good anyway.” 

You roll your eyes. “What about back to school nights makes you grumpy? It’s a chance for Sarah to see where she’ll spend most of her time for the next nine months.”

“Then where is she?” Joel raises an eyebrow. “Out on the playground because it only takes 5 seconds to see the classroom and she’d rather play with her friends.”

“You’re a grump.”

“Yeah, a grump who’d rather be watching the game.” 

You roll your eyes, swatting his shoulder. “Have you at least talked to her teacher yet?”

He grimaces. “Haven’t worked up the courage yet.”

It isn’t that Joel doesn’t want to know the person responsible for educating his child. It’s the fact that Sarah has a knack for ending up with the young, single teachers as her educators, ones who seem very interested in her father as more than a parent. He’d been granted reprieve last year, but you’d caught the visible shudder in his frame the moment he’d laid eyes on Sarah’s teacher for the year, young and not a ring on her left hand in sight. 

“Stop judging a book by its cover. You’re a grown up.”

“Fine.” He sets down his coffee with determination. “Let’s go.” His hand finds your waist as he propels you both toward the teacher. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows knit together. You have a sneaking suspicion you know what he’s playing at. 

“We’re going to meet Sarah’s teacher.” He shrugs, but a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Mrs. Miller.”

Your stomach does little flips. You’ve been mistaken for his Mrs. Miller more times than you can count at this point. You’ve attended Sarah’s parent teacher conferences when Joel got held up at a job sight, letting the teachers assume whatever they wanted. You are Mrs. Miller after all. But you’ve never done anything like this, not alongside him.  

He introduces himself and you to Miss Holly as he tugs you in closer to his right side. Your left arm instinctively wraps around his middle and you see the moment she watches the glint of your engagement and wedding ring under the fluorescent lights. 

It’s hardly the first time you’ve been mistaken for Joel Miller’s wife, but it is the first time he’s played into the assumption on purpose, with confidence. It’s the first time you let your mind forget it’s not true, even for just a few seconds, playing a part that doesn’t feel like playing at all. Joel lets his southern charm show now, protected by the guise of you as his bride. Before you know it, it feels too natural. Joel’s hand falls a bit, grasping your hip, tugging you closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You think maybe it is.  

Joel leads the conversation. You’re too caught up in the feel of his hand on your hip and the breathing of his chest under your palm. The night you almost kissed, the night you crawled into his bed and he held you through some of the best sleep you’ve gotten in years flashes in your mind. You think back to just last week, his name on your lips, that strangled, soft moan, and your own name you swear you heard. 

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” Sarah’s teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts. 

Joel offers his own goodbyes and you echo them, still fighting the haze inside your own mind. You wonder if there’s a world where this is your life, one where you and Joel aren’t playing make believe. One where you crawl in bed beside him every night instead of your empty bed. It’s an awful thought. Your husband gets released from prison in a few weeks. These thoughts will be gone by then. They have to be.

It was one night of indiscretion, two at the most, and you never actually did anything. You didn’t know Joel was on the other side of that door. Tommy doesn’t need to know. By his own admission, he’s actually crossed those boundaries. He’s broken your wedding vows. You glance at Joel’s profile as he leads you out of the classroom, a proud smirk on his face. The bastard enjoyed that way too much. 

When you make it to the hall, his fingers lace through yours. Is he forgetting too? Giving himself a moment to linger in the unspoken what ifs that seem to crowd around you these days. 

He drops your hand once you’re outside in view of the playground. He waves Sarah over, but you stay a couple steps behind, deep in thought until someone calls your name. Your head snaps in their direction. Julia and Micky Hall stand before you. Your eyes widen in recognition. Micky was one of Tommy’s Army buddies. They’d moved to Dallas after the group came back from their deployment. 

“Hi,” the words fall from your mouth in shock. “I didn’t know y’all were back in Austin.” Your feet carry you toward the couple. 

“Just moved back last month,” Julia says as you move to hug her and then Micky. “We’ve been meaning to call.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just good to see you both.” The smile across your face is genuine as you talk to your friends. You’d grown apart since their move. Other than Joel, Julia had been your closest friend during Tommy’s deployment. “How have you been? The boys?”

“Starting first grade,” Julia grins, pointing to her twin boys on the playground.

Your eyes catch them, running around. “They’ve grown so much.”

“How’s Nathaniel?” Julia asks.

“Good, growing like a weed as I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“Too familiar,” Julia laughs. 

“Nathaniel isn’t going into Kindergarten, is he?” Micky asks.

“Next year. I came for Sarah’s back to school night. Joel’s daughter.” You point to where Sarah is just rushing over to her father. You feel the ghost of Joel’s touch when you utter his name. “We’ve been helping each other out a lot with everything.”

The couple nods, an awkward silence forming between you as if they don’t want to address the elephant in the room. The heat has let up a little bit as the sun begins to dip behind the trees. 

“I’ve written to Tommy a couple of times,” Micky says, hands tucked into his front pockets. “Haven’t heard back much.”

You force a nod, feeling the tension grow in your limbs. “I haven’t been able to get much from him.” 

You catch the way both their eyes widen. They were there the night you and Tommy met. They’d seen the way you fell, both of you. How inseparable your bond is, or was. 

“Shit,” Micky says, running a hand over his face. “How are you holding up?”

“Not sure I am most days. Joel’s been a big help to us.” It feels like you’re concealing the whole truth. Joel’s been the crutch keeping you going most days. Julia’s brow furrows with concern.

Micky nods. “I’d like to go see him if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Maybe you can get through to him.”

“And we should get the kids together,” Julia adds. “Catch up ourselves.”

“That would be nice,” you smile at her as you catch Joel and Sarah waiting by the truck, laughing about something. “I should go, but you should call. Number’s still the same.”

“I’ll use it.” Julia smiles as you wave at both of them before crossing the parking lot with a weird feeling in your gut.  

Seeing Julia and Micky was nice. It brought back a lot of good memories. The four of you. It’s another reminder of how lonely the last years have been. How much you’ve depended on Joel. How much he’s been there. 

As you join Joel and Sarah at the truck, Sarah catches you up on all her friend’s summer vacations and updates, mouth moving a million miles a minute. She doesn’t stop as you climb in or for the click of your seat belt. You stay quiet, watching Austin wiz by out the passenger side window. 

When Joel pulls into your driveway, you let out a sigh staring at the door. He leans over the center console, keeping his voice low.  “You okay, Darlin? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Just tired. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” You fling the door of the pick up open. 

“Darlin?”

You bristle, smoothing out your skirt as you turn to face him. His brows knit together. “I’m fine, Joel.”

“You’re coming over tomorrow, right Aunt Bonnie?”

“Of course, Sarah Bear.” You blow her a kiss, shutting the door before Joel can protest. He makes sure you’re inside before pulling out of the driveway. 

Nathaniel is already asleep thanks to an afternoon at the playground and the magic your sitter works. You pay her extra tonight. You’ve never been more thankful to come home to a sleeping child, too distracted by the run in with your friends and Joel’s hot hands on you, the way he held you as if to tell the world to back off, you’re his. 

You pull the bottle of Tequila out of the cabinet. You’re tempted to pull straight from the bottle but you pour a finger or so into a glass instead. Your mother raised you better than that. She also raised you better than to pine after your brother in law. 

You throw back the whole glass. The cheap liquor burns your throat. You ran out of the good stuff last week with Joel and hadn’t made it to the liquor store yet. Joel had drunk you under the table, your tolerance not what it used to be. Not that you had ever been able to keep up with him. You fill the glass with another finger and toss it back. You can’t think about Joel. Can’t think about the way your wedding bands burn against your skin as if they are punishing you for tonight, for last week, for Father’s Day and for everything else. 

You pour more tequila into the cup, but you add ice and margarita mixer this time, knowing the first two shots will catch up to you soon enough. You fall onto the couch with a sigh. Three weeks. Just three weeks and Tommy will be back. You won’t see Joel everyday. Your husband will take care of you, satisfy you. That’s all this is. The deprivation of the last two and a half years. You can make it three more weeks. 

You try to reason it away. It makes sense. You and Joel have been so close in all this. He’s been your partner, not your husband, but partner. He’s an attractive man, thoughts were bound to pop up, lines were bound to get blurry, but all will correct itself when Tommy’s home. Yes, it all makes perfect sense. 

You take a sip of the margarita. Condensation trickles down your hand and ice rattles in the glass. Even as the numbness of the tequila shots begins to take over your body, the reassurances feel weak. 

Even if you can’t admit it, something has shifted. You and Joel are playing with fire. 

Three more weeks you push. Tommy will be home. You’ll have Your Tommy back. 

But you can’t erase the last two and a half years. Tonight, with the ghost of his hands on your body, you remember all the ways Joel has been there for you over these past years, filling in the gaping caverns Tommy left.   

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love

@justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours

@duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75

@millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw @tulips2715 @leggtostandon

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @lotusbxtch @ravenn-darkholme

[daisynik7]

Fine Lines

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Genre: modern day au, one-shot

Rating: Explicit

cw: vaginal sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, “princess”, “slut”, somewhat self-conscious reader

Word Count: ~7.0k

Summary: A girl’s night out ends with you crossing some lines with your best friend’s brother. 

Notes: Got inspired by this soundgasm I listened to that drove me wild (this is the link, listener discretion advised, put your damn headphones on before you click)! Everyone is in their mid-to-late twenties, for reference. Title inspired by the song “Fine Lines” by Jorja Smith. 

Personal Notes: This is shameless smut, not much plot (although I tried). Also, I’m very much obsessed with the pet name “princess” right now, so don’t mind me as I stick it in every fucking fic I write, can’t promise I’ll ever grow tired of it. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

ao3 | my masterlist

It’s Friday night, at last the start of the weekend. Work has been particularly stressful the past few days. New projects, useless meetings, upcoming deadlines; it’s never-ending. In need to let loose after being tightly wound this whole week, you suggest to your best friends, Mikasa and Sasha, for a girl’s night out. Dinner, drinks, dancing, and trashy food to end the night of debauchery. Just what you need to relax. 

At Mikasa’s apartment, the three of you gather inside her bedroom, blasting a party hits playlist as you all get ready. Sasha, eating a sandwich for a pre-game snack, sits beside on you on the carpet, the two of you applying your make-up in front of the closet mirror while Mikasa tries on outfits. “Does this look okay?” She presents herself to them in her black, strappy two-piece. 

Sasha whistles. “Hot mama!”

You smile, agreeing. “Stunning!”

She blushes, always appreciative of the support. “Thanks.” 

Suddenly, there’s aggressive knocking on the door. She opens it to find her brother and roommate, Eren, glaring at her. “Can you lower it? It’s so fucking loud.”

She rolls her eyes, tapping her phone to lower the volume. “Don’t you wear headphones?”

“I was wearing headphones and I still couldn’t hear Jean or Connie because of your fucking music.”

“Alright, alright, I lowered it, okay?”

“Thank you.” He glances over to you and Sasha, watching them argue. You quickly look away to avoid his gaze, staring back at the mirror. 

“Where are you three going tonight?” he asks, directing his question to his sister.

“Dinner in Stohess, then dancing at Club Paradis.”

“What’s the occasion?”

From the reflection of the mirror, you see Mikasa point her thumb at you. “Just a girl’s night. She’s been stressed at work and wants to let off some steam.” 

Eren looks at you, your back turned to them as you pretend to not be listening. “Well, have fun.”

“What are you up to today?” Mikasa asks.

“Just gaming with Jean and Connie. Armin’s out of town at a work conference, so it’ll be an uneventful weekend.” He pauses before directing his question at you. “So, I’m assuming you’ll get super drunk tonight? Will I need to take care of you again?”

You whip around to face him, cheeks hot with embarrassment, recalling the incident he’s referring to. “Hey, to be fair, your rooms are right next to each other, it was an honest mistake! And I already made up for it, remember?” 

A few weeks ago, following another girl’s night, you stumbled into Eren’s room by mistake and made yourself comfortable in bed next to him. And almost threw up on his sheets. Luckily, he caught wind of what was about to happen, and he led you into the bathroom, where he held your hair as you began to vomit the results of your excessive drinking. As thanks, you cooked a delicious dinner for both him and Mikasa the following day, complete with his favorite dessert: brownies. Specifically, you’re signature brownies.

Chuckling, he responds, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing you. Good thing you didn’t actually throw up on my sheets. Then you’d be in real big trouble.” The smirk he gives you sends a flutter bellow your belly. 

Mikasa glares at him. “Gross. Stop flirting and get out of here, we’re trying to get ready.”

He obeys, yelling out, “Have fun tonight!” before retreating into his room.

As you finish the rest of your ensemble, your mind is focused on Eren. You’ve known him for nearly ten years now, ever since you and Mikasa became roommates freshman year of college. They weren’t biologically related, Mikasa being adopted into his family from a young age, but they were closer than most blood-related siblings were. The two of them, along with their childhood friend, Armin, were inseparable. And as Mikasa’s best friend outside of this close-knit circle, it was only natural that you became well acquainted with the other two, especially her brother. 

It's no secret that he’s always been attractive. You’ve listened to too many rants from Mikasa about all the different girls he was messing around with in college. She criticized him often for dating fine women without ever wanting to commit to them. These tirades began to fade after graduation. It’s been a while since you heard any news about his love life, but you’re always too shy to pry.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about him in a romantic sense. He’s always been kind to you, harboring a soft spot for his sister’s best friend. It’s never been more than that, though. You’re certain that’s the only way he sees you. And it’s not as if you’ve ever made any attempts to flirt with him. There’s an unspeakable boundary that you don’t dare cross, fearing the repercussions. Rejection, potential harm to the relationship you’ve built through the years. It isn’t worth it to jeopardize what you currently have. 

Still, there’s no harm in fantasizing about it, as long as no one else knows. Right?

Make-up done, you slip into your little black dress, resulting in another whistle from Sasha. Mikasa twirls you with a smile. “Gorgeous.”

“So what’s the plan tonight, ladies? Shall we play a little game?” Sasha suggests with a devious grin. “Last time, it was drinks. Maybe this time, we’ll do phone numbers?”

“I’m down for that,” Mikasa agrees, adjusting the volume of the music even lower. 

“You in?” Sasha looks to you for confirmation.

You shrug. “Sure.”

“What’s wrong?” 

It takes a while for you to respond, ashamed to admit it out loud. “I never win these things. I rarely ever get hit on.”

“That’s because you’re too shy! You have to put yourself out there!”

You fall onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s it. Maybe I’m too ugly.”

“Stop! We don’t tolerate that kind of talk in this household!” Mikasa yells, sitting next to you. 

“I will slap you if you say that again,” Sasha threatens. 

“Not only are you two gorgeous, but you are also great at flirting. I’m just going to be sipping my drink alone while all the men flock towards you. But that’s fine! I’m fine. I’m happy to be a wing woman!”

Maybe it’s the stress of the work week putting you in this bizarre self-pitying state. You’re not usually like this. Or maybe you’ve been hiding it all along. It’s not as if you don’t have any experience when it comes to this. You’ve been on your fair share of dates, none of which have ever panned out to anything serious. Ever since you started working at your current job, you’ve been having a bit of a dry spell, too preoccupied with your career to focus on romance. Tonight, the burden of the past few years is finally taking its toll. 

With your innermost thoughts already laid bare in front of your friends, you confess, “I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight. Just sex. No strings attached.”

“Well, if you announce it like that, I guarantee you’ll find a guy who’ll want to fuck you,” Sasha laughs. 

Mikasa adds, “Guys are easy. They go dumb if you bat your eyelashes or laugh at their jokes. It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it really? I don’t think I have that power...”

“It’s because you’re too shy! Don’t worry, we’ll find you a man tonight. We’ll make it happen.”

Sasha is the last to get changed, donned in a black dress similar to yours. Before requesting a ride, the three of you move to the kitchen, where you down a few shots of tequila. The burn of the liquor awakens your senses, prepping you for a fun night with your friends and hopefully, a guy to satisfy your sexual needs. 

Sasha checks her phone, groaning. “The surcharge is insane right now. It’s going to be this much just to get to Stohess!” She shows her screen, displaying the ridiculous cost.  

Hiccupping, Mikasa says, “Ah! I got an idea.” 

Stumbling towards Eren’s door, she knocks a few times until he answers, headphones around his neck, an annoyed expression on his face. “What?”

“Can you please give us a ride to dinner? It’s super expensive right now. And it’s only ten minutes away!” She puts her hands together in a prayer pose, pleading with him. 

Glaring, he replies, “I’m in the middle of a game right now.”

Sasha joins in on the begging, standing beside Mikasa. “Eren, please! We’ll make it up to you!”

He crosses his arms, expression softening, slightly amused now. “How?”

The two girls stare at each other, thinking harder than usual because of the alcohol taking its effect. “She’ll cook you dinner again!” Mikasa points to you. “She’ll cook you whatever you want!

You step towards them, yelling, “Don’t just volunteer me like that!” 

He looks at you with the same smirk as earlier. Even in your almost tipsy state, you feel the familiar sensation in your abdomen.

“I’ll only do it if she bakes me my favorite brownies.” 

“She will! She’ll do it!” 

He removes his headphones, throwing on a hoodie before turning off the lights to his bedroom. “Alright, you drunks. Let’s go then.” 

~~~

The three women follow him to the door, thanking him profusely as they strap on their heels. Inside the car, Mikasa and Sasha claim the backseat, while she rides as passenger. While the two struggle to put on their seatbelts, she stares forward, avoiding Eren’s gaze as he pulls out of the garage. Quiet enough for only her to hear, he murmurs, “I guess you’re my passenger princess for tonight.”

“Huh?”

He smiles at her, but doesn’t repeat himself, turning his attention on the road. 

They’ve known each other for a while now, ever since freshman year of college. She was Mikasa’s roommate, and eventually, best friend, aside from Eren and Armin. She’s always had that charming smile on her face, matching her magnetic personality. He never really noticed how alluring her energy was until recently. He’s not sure what changed, but something did. He pays attention to her now. 

Today, he overhears them talking on the other side of the wall. Eren didn’t have his headphones in while him, Connie, and Jean took a break from their game.

I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight. 

Just sex. 

No strings attached.

These words, coming from her mouth in particular, pique his interest. 

It’s not that he wasn’t attracted to her before. He just never really thought of her outside of being Mikasa’s sweet, innocent friend. All he knows is that they’ve been acquainted long enough to know that they get along well. Sometimes really well, sharing similar humor, music tastes, favorite foods. Little details that used to be insignificant, but now, seeing her in a new light, means something more.

He'd be fooling himself if he says he’s never thought about it. Of course he has. The common trope of fucking your sister’s best friend, it’s a story that’s been written countless times in television, literature, even porn. Is it possible that this fictional cliché can become a reality? The idea floats around in his head as he drives them to the restaurant. Sasha and Mikasa are obnoxiously giggling to themselves, looking at their phones. His passenger joins in on their conversation. “What are you two giggling about back there?”

“We’re trying to find potential candidates for you.”

Eren is definitely listening now. He tries not to smile to himself as she exclaims, “What?!”

“We’re checking out all the guys in the area. Oooohhh, what about him?” Sasha turns her screen towards the front, showing a picture of a shirtless man. Literally just a naked torso, no face at all. “I can message him to meet us at the club after dinner!”

“Don’t!”

“Why not? I thought you were trying to fuck tonight!”

“Sasha!” She buries her face in her hands as Mikasa cracks up. 

“Oh hey! Maybe Eren knows someone he can set you up with! Got any single friends who are down to fuck?” 

Sasha and Mikasa cackle together as she turns to him, expression horrified. “Ignore everything they’re saying, oh my god.”

He teases, “What if I do know someone?”

Mikasa leans forward, now curious. “Who? You better not set her up with Reiner. You know he would eat her up alive.” 

“It’s not Reiner.”

“Then who?”

He pulls up to restaurant, still not answering the question. Sasha and Mikasa hastily exit the car, thanking Eren for the ride. She takes a while longer to undue her seatbelt. He takes this opportunity to say, “Good luck tonight.”

Groaning, she mutters, “I can’t believe Sasha. I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s so embarrassing.” 

“Hey, nothing embarrassing about it. We all have needs.”

“Well, if I fail tonight, maybe you can introduce me to that friend of yours one day,” she jokes. 

“Sure. I can even introduce you to him tonight.” 

She laughs, not fully grasping what he’s trying to say. “Yeah. Right. Anyways, thanks for the ride.”

He watches her exit the car, the hem of her sexy black dress riding up along her thigh as she steps out. Hoping that she does strike out tonight, for his sake. 

~~~

Dinner goes by smoothly, the meal delicious as always, drinks flowing freely to continue setting the mood for the night. The three of you linger at the restaurant for a little while, sipping on more cocktails as you digest your food, preparing yourselves for a long night of dancing.

By the time it’s 10:30 PM, you make your way a few blocks down to Club Paradis, a crowd of people already lined up at the door. Luckily for you, Sasha’s friend, Nic, is one of the chef’s at this establishment when it’s a restaurant during the day. The bouncer, who recognizes her, let’s you all in immediately, without issue. 

Inside, the DJ has already started their set, EDM music blaring through the speakers. The first thing you do is head to the bar. Mikasa, right off the bat, works her magic and has a guy buy the first round. In turn, she also gets his number, starting the little game. 

Sasha manages to charm her way into sharing a table with a trio of men, getting their digits in exchange. Two of them chat with Sasha as the other tries to flirt with Mikasa, leaving you on the side, sipping on your cocktail, as predicted. 

When the dancefloor starts filling up and the DJ begins to play the popular club hits, the three of you abandon the table to start dancing. Throughout the night, more men approach your friends, sometimes dancing beside them or attempting to dance with them. Mikasa and Sasha end up rejecting their advances, deserting the phone number game. The three of you dance until your feet are tired, throats sore from singing along, and heads pleasantly dizzy from the buzz of the alcohol. By the time it’s past 1:30 AM, you’ve forgotten about your desire to hook up, too immersed in having a blast with your friends.

Being the least drunk, you request a ride on your app, Mikasa and Sasha both leaning against you, still giggly, but exhausted. The car arrives, the three of you cramming into the back as the driver takes you to the apartment. Sasha whines to you about fast food, reminding her that there is a frozen pizza waiting to be baked at home.

It’s about 2:00 AM now as the three of you shuffle into Mikasa’s apartment. You immediately preheat the oven before following your besties into the bedroom to start the tedious process of turning down for the night. 

When you hear the distinct beep from the kitchen, you scurry over to pop the pizza in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes. You continue to remove the rest of your makeup and by the time you’re done washing your face, comfy in your silky, floral-print pajamas, the pizza is done. Resting it on top of the stove, you walk back into Mikasa’s room to find your two friends passed out on the bed, snoring peacefully. Chuckling to yourself, you turn the lights off and close the door quietly, leaving them to their slumber. 

In the kitchen, with the pizza cool enough to touch, you cut yourself a large slice and start eating, leaning against the counter, scrolling through social media with your free hand. The sound of a door creaking open startles you, until you see Eren step out of his bedroom, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark grey sweats. Man-bun in all its glory.

“You’re still up?” you question, mouth full of the bite of pizza you just took. 

“Yeah, I just finished playing with Jean and Connie. The smell of pizza lured me out,” he responds, smiling. 

“Help yourself. Your sister and Sasha fell asleep, so I won’t be able to finish this on my own.”

He cuts himself a large slice, sliding it onto a paper plate that you put out on the counter prior. The two of you eat in silence, you pretending to be distracted by your phone when really, you’re waiting for him to initiate conversation. When you’re finished with the pizza, you open the fridge, craving something else to eat. 

“Are you stealing my snacks?” He’s behind you, closer than he’s ever been before, body pressed ever-so-slightly against you as you inspect the refrigerator. 

You lean forward, sticking your ass out just a little bit. For good measure. “I would if you had anything good. All that’s here are Mikasa’s protein bars and a dozen eggs.”

He chuckles, placing his hands on your waist to push you aside. “You just don’t know where to look.” Reaching his arm into one of the compartments, he conjures a pack of vanilla pudding, handing it to you. In the cupboard above the fridge, he grabs a bag of potato chips.

“Ah, so you have your own secret stash.”

“For drunk munchies. Or even when I’m not drunk.”

“Thanks. This is just what I wanted.” You unfold the bag, reaching in for a handful, smiling.

He leans on the counter next to you, munching on his pizza. “So, how was tonight?” 

“Very fun. I needed that.” You rip the seal off the pudding cup. Some of it gets on your thumb, to which you instinctually stick in your mouth to suck it off. You realize Eren watches you carefully as you do this. Nervous under his gaze, you release it from your mouth with a slight pop. “It’s been a really stressful week at work, so it was fun to have a girl’s night, not worrying about anything.” When’s the last time you and Eren actually had a conversation one-on-one like this? Has this ever happened? 

He grabs a water bottle, twisting the cap off to drink a couple of gulps. When he’s done, he offers it to you. You’ve shared plenty of drinks with Mikasa, but with Eren? This is unexpected. Not wanting to make it weird, you take it, swallowing your fill until you’re properly hydrated, much thirstier than you thought. 

He watches you replace the cap, setting the almost empty bottle back down on the counter. It’s odd being observed by him. You don’t remember him ever paying attention to you in this way. Why tonight of all nights? Edgy from the work week, horny and desperate for an easy release. Why is he acting this way now while you’re vulnerable?

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Hm?”

He lowers his voice, leaning in closer to you. “Did you find a guy to fuck?”

This catches you more off guard, the bluntness of it. Maybe it’s the remaining alcohol still flowing through your body, giving you liquid courage to behave out of character. Maybe it’s your desire to feel a warm body beneath you tonight. Maybe it’s the words he uttered to you earlier in the car replaying in your head that you’re just now picking up on.

What if I do know someone? 

I can even introduce you to him tonight. 

We all have needs. 

Whatever it is, it’s driving you to match whatever crass energy he’s giving off. “If I did, would I be here right now? I’d be at his place, fucking his brains out.”

At this, he lets out an amused hum, smiling. That goddamn smile. Charming, attractive. Dangerous. “Being here with me isn’t so bad, right?” His arm is completely pressed against yours now. All this surface on the countertop free to occupy, yet he crowds you in his space.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you can do for me,” you answer, setting the barely eaten pudding cup on the table. You swallow hard, standing up straighter to muster as much confidence as you can. 

He moves closer, all six feet of him towering over you. “What do you want from me?”

“You told me you know someone in case I struck out tonight. Who is he?”

“I think you know.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you sure?” It’s like asking for permission to cross the line that you’ve avoided this whole time. 

“Yes, absolutely sure,” he confirms, bowing his head down towards you. 

You gulp loudly, heart thumping. “Then make the first move.”

~~~

Without hesitation, he closes the gap and kisses her. He starts off soft and slow, acquainting himself to these lips he’s known for almost ten whole years, but never appreciated until now. How foolish he’s been for not getting a taste sooner.

She grasps at his chest, white tee bunched in her fists as she pulls him closer to deepen the kiss. He never knew how forward she can be. She’s always been shy, reserved. This is a new side of her he’s never seen before, and it excites him. 

Her lips part, inviting his tongue in to swirl around hers. He slides his hands to her waist, thumbs slipping beneath the silky band of her pajama shorts, feeling for the fabric of her panties. 

“Fuck, this is crazy,” he whispers between kisses. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Dragging his bottom lip down with her teeth, she suggests, “Should we go to your room?” 

He shakes his head. “Walls are too thin. Let’s go to the couch.”

They stumble into the living room, feet shuffling against the hardwood floor, clothes tugged on here and there, little giggles exchanged between them as they fondle each other on the way to the couch. He sits down first, spreading his legs wide to display the erection outlined in the fabric of his sweats, cocky smirk plastered on his face. Palms patting the inside of his thighs, he beckons, “Come here.”

She takes her place on his lap, straddling him, skimpy boxer shorts bunched at her thighs. They keep kissing, his hands sliding under her shirt towards her chest. To his delight, she’s not wearing a bra. With a gentle pinch on both her nipples, he squeezes at her tits, still in shock that he’s feeling her like this. He starts brushing her hardening nipples with the pads of his thumbs, enjoying the way she pulls away from his lips to throw her head back in pleasure. 

“You like having your nipples played with, don’t you?”

Biting her lower lip, she nods, gripping his shoulders like reins to hold herself steady for the ride. He brings her face close to his again, lips grazing her ear as he whispers, “Do you ever think about me? Like this?” 

He’s genuinely curious. Now that he thinks about it, there has been an instance or two when she’s appeared in his mind during a late-night quick release. Particularly after seeing her wrapped in only a towel after coming out of the shower whenever she sleeps over. He never thought anything of it, just an innate reaction to seeing a woman almost completely bare. It’s instinct for him to wonder what marvel is hidden underneath if that towel conveniently slipped off. What her naked body, slick and dewy from that steamy shower, would look like in front of him. Or beneath him. Even riding him. 

It's only natural to think of his sister’s best friend, of his friend, this way. Right?

Maybe not. Lost in the jumble that is his psyche, he’s definitely thought about it, and not just once, not twice. Many times, he realizes. Somewhere in the middle of all his other depraved fantasies, she’s been there without him even noticing. Until now. 

This may be a mistake. It might ruin whatever relationship they’ve developed throughout the years. It doesn’t matter though, because all of those worries fade away as soon as she breathes out the answer to his question. “Yeah, I do. I think about you a lot.”

It’s the go-ahead, the green light. They’ve both stepped over the line now; at this point, it doesn’t even exist. She wants this just as much as he does. Nothing else matters except for the two of them, sitting on this couch, fulfilling each other’s shameless needs.

She hoists her top off, breasts completely exposed for him now, his hands still squeezed firmly around them. He takes one and latches his lips to it, sucking hard until it’s taut in his mouth, listening to her whine in ecstasy. With a loud pop, he releases her, brushing his lips along her plump nipple. “You like having your nipples sucked, huh?”

“Mm-hm. Do that other one.”

He laughs softly. “So demanding. So greedy. I never knew you were like this.” 

“I guess the secret’s out,” she says, smiling before kissing him hard on the lips. 

He breaks away to play with her other nipple, causing her to moan even louder. With his free hand, he covers her mouth gently, her wet lips puffing warm breath into his palm. Unable to resist temptation, he teases his fingers into her mouth, pleasantly surprised when she sticks them in farther, tongue licking around his digits. 

Another loud pop as he let’s go of her tit, cursing. He pumps his fingers in and out of her mouth, coating her spit all over him. “You’re nasty. You’re really fucking nasty. Tell me what you want me to do with these wet fingers.”

Still licking at his hand, she muffles, “Touch me.”

Through the opening of her shorts, he slips past her panties, sliding his fingers along her pussy, slick and creamy with her arousal. His cock is unbelievably hard, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants to take his time with her, familiarize himself with her body, memorize each beautiful crevice he gets to explore tonight. There’s no telling what will happen to them after this. He’s taking this opportunity and making the most out of it in case this never happens again. 

Finding her clit, he rubs his middle finger against it, pressing it firm enough to have her trembling above him. “Fuck,” she breathes out. “Eren.”

The rasp of his name in that sultry, desperate tone makes his cock twitch. He uses his free hand to start palming his erection through his sweats, thankful that he had the foresight to change into these before he stepped out of his room, knowing it was her out in the kitchen, alone.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just now that he had this revelation. Who is he really kidding? He’s wanted this for a while now. He buried it in the back of his mind because it was too taboo, too forbidden. That just made him yearn for it more. And tonight, it all comes to head. Finally.

“You’re getting so wet for me with just my fingers.” He slides his hand underneath his pants to fist his shaft. “Bet I could make it juicier if I eat you out.”

“Sounds promising,” she smirks, grinding against him. Leaning past his ear, she whispers, “But I want to try something else first.”

His abdomen tightens, anticipating what she has in mind. “What?”

She dismounts him to kneel on the carpet, head positioned between his thighs, staring lustfully at him. “You know what.”

Shifting forward in his seat, he asks, “You want to suck my dick? This fat cock in front of you? Is that what you want?”

“I want to see what all those girls in college were making such a big fuss about.”

He lets out a short laugh, lifting his torso to slide his sweats and boxers off simultaneously, his rigid cock springing free from its confines. “How do you know about my slut era? Did Mikasa tell you?”

“Maybe,” she replies, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking. 

He moans quietly, not wanting to reveal how fucking desperate he is for her. “Were you jealous whenever she’d tell you about all the girls I fucked?”

“Maybe,” she repeats, giving him a soft kiss on the tip, small string of precum connected to her lips. He’s stares at her, capturing a mental picture of this for future reference. 

“Do you wish I fucked you back then?” His curiosity is getting the best of him.

Shaking her head, she answers, “No. Because now, I get to have you all to myself.” Mouth formed in an oval shape, she sinks down onto his cock, the tip completely engulfed in her warm saliva.  

He uses every ounce of willpower not to bust right there. Who is this woman? Where has she been this whole time? And why hasn’t this happened sooner? 

“Fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes. “That feels good. Fuck.”

She blows him, her fist working the base as her head bobs along the shaft, movements in sync with each other to stimulate every fiber of his being. It’s been a while since a blowjob has felt this good. Maybe it’s because it’s her. Sweet, innocent, wholesome her. Or so he thought. The fact that his perception of her has been blown out the window, replaced with the side he’s always secretly pined for. This is what does it for him. 

He keeps his eyes shut for the most part, the sight of her with hollowed cheeks, milking the fucking life out of him, too lewd to watch. When he does, she looks up at him with a twinkling gaze, enjoying it. 

“Fuck,” he moans, a little louder this time. 

She slides off him, hand still stroking his cock, slick with spit and precum, index finger to her puffy lips, shushing him, “Be a good boy and keep your voice down.”

Holy fuck. Any morsel of control he has left is quickly withering away. “I’m going to come,” he tells her, rocking his hips in sync with her strokes. In an instant, her lips are latched around him again. He comes in her mouth, some of it spilling down onto his pelvis. She removes her hand to sink lower to the base, swallowing the rest. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as he basks in the glory of his orgasm, head lolled against the cushions, mind blank except for the euphoria spreading to the rest of his body. It’s only when he hears her giggle that he is brought to his senses. He lifts his head up to face her, observing the naughty smile formed at her lips. 

Grinning, he murmurs, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

She stands up to sit next to him on the couch. “We? Excuse me, but I did all the work.”

Turning towards her, he leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I guess it’s time for me to do my part, then.” 

Lying on the couch with Eren on top, he hastily pulls off her pajama bottoms along with her soaked panties, now completely naked. He takes a few seconds to stare at her, admiring how much sweeter it is to see her like this with his own eyes instead of in his imagination. 

“Quit looking at me like that,” she waves at him. “You’re making me self-conscious.”

“Self-conscious? About what? This fucking gorgeous body you’ve been hiding from me?” he teases, tracing his fingers along her sides, down to the hips.  

“Shut up,” she whispers, turning away. She’s so fucking cute, he can’t stand it.

“No way. I’m not going to stop talking about this beautiful face,” he says, leaning down to scatter kisses all over her cheeks. “Or your soft skin,” more smooches trailing her stomach. “And I definitely won’t shut up about this perfect pussy I’m about to devour.” With that, he spreads her thighs wide to lap his tongue on her clit, hearing her gasp quietly above him, hand covering her mouth. 

Delighted by her reaction, he hums against her skin, lips puckered at her bud, toying with her sleek folds. He flattens his tongue and slides it side to side while he slips his middle finger in her. 

“Oh fuck!” she cries into her palm. He puts his ring finger in along with his middle, thrusting into her while he eats her out sloppily, drool smearing all over her already sticky arousal. She tastes even better than he imagined, her creamy arousal luscious on his tongue, the lewd smell of sex surrounding his nostrils, priming him to go completely wild on her. It hasn’t been long since his first orgasm, but he feels the blood pulsing into his cock, getting harder and harder the more he indulges in her.

He doesn’t want to fuck her just yet. No, he wants her to gush all over his fucking face, and he knows exactly what to do to put her over the edge.

Pulling away briefly, lips and chin shiny with her arousal, he growls, “Sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Sit on my face,” he repeats.

“Are you sure?” She sits up, uncertainty evident in her expression. 

Growing impatient, he guides her on top of him, shimmying across the couch to position himself just right. “Don’t make me say it again,” he warns, hands on her hips, as she mounts his face, her knees surrounding his head. She hovers above him, too timid to do it properly. 

He grips her tighter, shoving her pussy into his face, tongue lapping up her leaking juices, swallowing noisily so she knows just how good he’s drinking her up. His hand smooths over her ass cheek, tapping it lightly. He wants so badly to spank her, punish her for hiding this from him all these years. Discipline her for depriving him for so long. 

“Ride it,” he demands, loosening his grip, letting her be in control. Without question this time, she does, rocking her hips back and forth against his face, pussy dragging on every inch of it. Dousing him, quenching him, smothering him. She’s whimpering now, lost in the heat of passion, fondling her own tits to feel even more as she grinds on his mouth. He’s tempted to jerk off, but it’ll be too much; it’s already enough for him to come untouched. 

In a small voice, she mutters, “Coming.” He sucks on her clit hard until her voice goes a pitch higher, then sticks his tongue into her slit, licking her insides while his nose jams into her sensitive bud. 

When she’s down from her high, she’s gently gets off him, a guilty look on her face as she reaches for the box of tissues on the coffee table next to the couch, handing it to him. He sits up, face even shinier with her cum, and refuses. Smiling, he starts collecting her slick off with his fingers, sucking them clean into his mouth.

She shoves him playfully. “Don’t!” she hisses.

He continues to grin, pulling her into a sloppy kiss. “You taste fucking amazing,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against hers. “So yummy.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” she says, smiling. She toys with the hem of his shirt that he’s still wearing. “Do you want to stop? Or…?”

“Oh, we’re definitely not done yet,” he states, hoisting his shirt off.

Her eyes widen at the reveal of his sculpted chest and abdomen, then down at his stiff cock sprung against it. He laughs, catching her ogling him. “You’re going to help me deal with this, right?”

“Yeah. How do you want me to do it?”

“You tell me, princess.”

She grins at this, biting her lip. “I like that. Princess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling her towards him, he whispers, “Show me what else you like.” 

~~~

You get into a similar position as earlier, you on top of Eren, straddling his lap as he sits against the couch. This time, however, you’re both completely naked and messier than before, all the evidence from both of your orgasms sticky between your bodies. Lifting up, you align his cock with your wet slit, guiding it in slowly. It’s no surprise that he’s robust. It’s even bigger than you imagined, especially as you sink deeper onto it, his girth stretching you more than his fingers could. 

When he’s all the way in, you take a sharp breath, adjusting to his size. He doesn’t rush you; instead, he waits patiently, holding your hips tenderly with his forehead pressed to yours, watching you. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that beautiful head of his. 

A few moments of this and you ease up on him. You lift off slightly, then sink back down, repeating this until it’s a fluid motion, whimpering when you feel him reach your G-spot. After a few more deep thrusts, you let out a particularly loud moan, resulting in both your hand and his covering your mouth. You giggle quietly with each other. 

“You’re so fucking loud,” he laughs, gazing at you.

“That’s because you’re fucking me so good,” you respond, riding him faster. You take his hand and guide it to your arousal, begging him to touch you while you fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re bad. You’re so fucking bad,” he growls, sticking out his thumb to massage your sensitive bud. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? Deep down, you’re just a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked tonight.”

His obscene words twist around your core, getting you closer and closer to another climax. “Say more dirty things to me, Eren,” you demand, bouncing on his lap, his thumb strumming your clit ruthlessly. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so nasty,” he whispers, panting. “Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, oh my god.” He fucks you, hands tight on your ass, feet rooted into the carpet, couch creaking noisily in the quiet of the living room. But it doesn’t matter because you’re almost there. Just a little bit more.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he spits out, breath hot on your ear. “Acting like a good girl when you’re really just a nasty fucking slut. You know exactly what you do to me.”

“What do I do to you? Tell me.” Sweat beads off your forehead, his eyes animalistic, peering into yours as he rails you.

“You drive me fucking crazy. The way you flaunt yourself in front of me. Teasing me with that innocent smile. You’re just a naughty girl who needs to get fucked.”

“Ah, fuck me, Eren. Fuck me, fuck me! Make me come!” you cry, riding him fast.

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming,” he groans, holding you tighter in his arms. His warm cum shoots inside you as you orgasm on his twitching cock. 

He cradles you gently for a minute before asking, “Did you come? Please tell me you did.”

Nodding weakly, face nestled into his neck, you answer, “I did.” 

“Good,” he says, kissing you on your shoulder. “Good.” His arms wrap you in a snug embrace, massaging your back tenderly. 

“Do you think they heard us?” you ask.

“I’m pretty sure Mikasa would have come out by now to kick both our asses, so I think we’re good,” he chuckles. 

Pulling away to face him, you mutter, “Thank you. For tonight. I really needed this.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, grinning. “Always happy to help. You know that you can come to me for anything, right?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends.” It almost seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He ends it there, still smiling at you. 

You lean forward to give him one more kiss on the lips. “We should probably clean up and go to bed before we really do get caught.”

“Right. I’ll see you in the morning?” He phrases it in the form of a question, like he’s unsure. 

“Yes, I’ll see you in the morning,” you reassure him, extracting your sticky self from his body. 

Without another word, you walk away into the bathroom to clean yourself up and brush your teeth, mind racing with the realization of what just occurred. When you’re done, you exit and find him standing in the kitchen, dressed back in his sweats, waiting for you to use the bathroom. Before you sneak into Mikasa’s room to finally call it a night, you tiptoe towards him and kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

He blushes, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “Goodnight, princess.”

~~~

Eren retreats into his room, ready for a good night’s sleep. He checks his phone for the time; almost 3:30 AM. In bed, he rolls to his side to face the wall he shares with his sister’s room, wondering if his special friend is still awake like he is.

Friends. He didn’t think it through before saying it. It was a spur of the moment comment, one made from nerves and anxiety surrounding the aftermath of their actions. Tonight, they crossed a line that most friends do not. What will happen to them now?

He grabs another pillow and hugs it, wishing it was her. Realizing that he doesn’t want to be friends with her at all, but something else. Something more. 

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 3

Just a tad smutty, more like an idea of smut rather than the stuff itself. 

______________________________________________________________

Two Weeks Later. Friday.

You stood outside under an awning, waiting for the bus to show up as you texted away on your phone. A soft smile had plastered itself to your face the longer you texted with the big Scot, but one thing you’d noticed is that he was always mentioning the other members of his team, not that he’d told you what they do.

“John is a pro at fixing up cars, never seen a car he couldn’t fix.” “Lordie, this pasta is good. Gaz is always making amazing food.” “Remind me not to bet against Simon again. Lost all of my money on that rugby match last night.” 

He never referred to Simon by his callsign, not wanting to give you any reason to recognize or connect the dots. Eventually, they’d each come to you, injecting themselves into your life one by one. You’d told Johnny that your car had broken down a few days ago, complaining that the bus was always late and it never had any open seats, but you didn’t have the money to get it fixed. He’d offered for John to come take a look, but you’d insisted it was fine. Except it wasn’t. After a week of bus rides, you were ready to take him up on the offer. 

🪻: Hey Johnny? Would your friend be able to take a look at my car? I can’t bear the bus anymore. 🧼: Of course. We can come tonight once you’re off work? 🪻: oh thank you so much! You guys are truly the best. 🧼: Anything for you, Petal.

You blushed at his message, stepping onto the bus in much better spirits than before.

A few hours later, there was a knock at your door and you jumped at the sound, getting up from the couch to open it and smiling shyly as Johnny’s face came into view. You hadn’t seen him in person since that day in the flower shop, exchanging pictures over the last two weeks, but nothing else. His scruff was freshly trimmed, bright eyes shining at you, but it wasn’t him that made your eyes bug. It was the man standing just behind and slightly to the left of him, wide frame blocking light from the hallway.

“Aye, this is Price,” Johnny’s thick accent sounded jovial as you stepped back, opening the door for these two men. Oh, Magda was going to have a heyday when you told her about this. “You can call me John if you like, little bird,” the older man stated, passing through the door to stand next to it. You stammered a bit before shaking your head and introducing yourself, closing the door softly. “I’m sorry, I thought you were gonna take a bit longer. I’ll go change and then take you guys down to my car,” you offered, giving them small smiles as they nodded to you before disappearing into your bedroom. You took a moment to lean against the door, fighting with your thundering heart rate as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back. Clearing your head, you moved from the door to change into some jeans and a simple shirt, tossing the shorts you’d been wearing into the corner.

While you were changing, the two men were having an almost silent conversation in your living room. “Cap, did you see-?” Johnny’s eyes met Price’s who only gave him a hard stare and the slightest nod. Between the pretty color on your cheeks and those damn shorts, both men were having their control tested. And you only served to make it worse, coming out in jeans that hugged your hips and ass in a way that left nothing to the imagination. They were just as bad as the shorts.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to stay chipper as to not betray your rapid heart beat or the way your voice wavered on the word. “Lead the way, Petal.” Johnny gave you one of his lopsided smiles and you had to switch to manual breathing.

A few minutes later, you were down on the street with them, rambling on about what you thought the problem could be. “It’s possible it’s the alternator, but it could also be the battery. I’m honestly not sure at this point. It was a hunk of junk when I bought it,” you babbled out, forcing yourself to stop after a few moments of long-winded speech and the soft looks the two men were giving you.

John had himself under the vehicle in minutes, thankful that his line of sight to you was blocked. You were unknowingly challenging both of them with your thick waist and that pretty look you got in your eyes when you were looking at either of them. He wasn’t even sure how Johnny was coping, standing that close to you.

But Johnny wasn’t coping. If you looked away for even a moment during your conversation, he was readjusting himself to make his obvious arousal even the tiniest amount less obvious. You’d caught him once but didn’t say anything, turning to watch John under your car while you struggled to hide the blush that covered your cheeks. Sometimes, you were grateful you were a girl, though your squeezing thighs weren’t as subtle as you thought they were and Johnny had to clear his throat to hide the groan that threatened to spill forward.

Finally, John was sliding out from under the car and standing before you, covered in grease and wiping his hands on a towel. Suffice it to say, if you’d been a man, your desire for them would have been just as apparent as theirs. With a soft grunt, John was directing you to try to start it, making you jump to action. Darting over to the driver’s seat, you slid the key in and almost cried when it started. You hopped back out, running over to John to wrap your arms around his middle, thanking him profusely for fixing it and how could you ever repay him.

“Let me take you out, little bird.” 

Your eyes widened while your arms released the huge man, flipping between Johnny and Price, eyes filled with confusion when the former gave you a soft smile and a nod. You’d thought Johnny would ask you at some point, but you supposed that he hadn’t in two weeks, so why would he now? Chewing the inside of your lip, you nodded. “I’d love to,” you replied while your cheeks turned a bit pink and you could have sworn you saw them share a look over your head. “We’d best be going. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 8pm,” John stated, a warm smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head before moving to clean up his tools. Johnny joined you and you looked up at him with the same confusion, though you couldn’t bring yourself to voice it. He just gazed down at you with those pretty blues, a soft smile on his lips that looked a little more like a smirk than anything else. “Don’t look at me like that, Petal,” Johnny whispered to you as Price started to move his tools to his truck, hugging you tightly before walking away to get into the truck. “See ya soon, pretty bird.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, laying in bed, you reflected on your evening. You’d been touched more in the last few hours than you had in years and it made your mind a little hazy. If it wasn’t Johnny’s hand on your lower back as the three of you trekked down the stairs, it was Price’s arm slung over your shoulders as you explained what happened when your infernal car died. From there it was Johnny’s small touches like brushing your hair back and then finally Price’s kiss to the top of your head that had your body feeling like they’d set little fires down everywhere they touched. 

There was a foreign feeling inside when you laid down that night. The ache between your thighs and the simmering flames they’d left behind creating a buzzing in your ears that you just couldn’t shake no matter how much chamomile tea you’d drank or how many breathing exercises you did. So finally, you did something you hadn’t even thought of in months. Sliding your fingers under the shorts you’d slipped back on when they left, you let out a soft moan as your fingers found the throbbing bundle of nerves and rubbed quick, precise circles on it. Your brain conjured some filthy images of the two hulking men taking you however they saw fit, not that you’d ever admit it. 

______________________________________________________________

I hope you guys are enjoying this and thank you so much for the support! I promise I'm not forgetting Gaz and Ghost. It's just not their time yet. They'll get their shot, pink promise.

[seeingivy]

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader 

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 

previous part linked here

- 

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 

“Okay. Are you sure?” 

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 

All the more reason to do this. 

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today? 

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Jean.” 

“What are you wearing?” 

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 

“You wore the rival's colors.” 

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 

“How much did you hear?” 

“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 

“Um so-” 

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 

“You have to change. Like now.” 

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 

“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 

“It’s just a color.” 

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 

My girl. 

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” 

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.” 

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 

Asshole. 

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 

“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so. 

- 

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 

So this is where Eren gets it from. 

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 

You tap him on the shoulder. 

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 

“His roommate? Since when?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 

“I’m Sasha.” 

“And I’m Connie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did Eren become your roommate?” 

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 

“I might have an idea.” 

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 

“What playlist?” 

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 

“So. Is it about you?” 

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 

“Hm.” 

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 

“We have his wallet.” 

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 

So you don’t. 

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 

-  

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 

“Ren?” 

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 

“Everything okay, kitty?” 

“Uh. I might have messed up.” 

He stops, turning to face you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” 

“What? 

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Yeah. How’d you know? 

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 

- 

next chapter linked here

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[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 30 “Gross The Line” [Episode List] After Dave rips a couple of his well-known huge farts on his face, Tim finds the guts to ask his gassy bro something...

POV: Tim

Gross The Line

This Friday night we had no plans (once you’re past 30, this is usually considered a win).

Both me and Dave, after a tough week of work, decided to stay at home and apparently our buds had the same idea as no one wanted to do anything. To be completely honest, Dave did have something resembling a plan for tonight: Dana, his girlfriend, was coming here for the weekend, nothing new by a long shot, but Dave still wanted to give our small house what passes for a “cleaning session”.

To be fair, both me and Dave know how to manage this sort of stuff, with Dave actually being much more organised than he seems. 

Each day of this past week, we decided to do our chores after we were done working.

Speaking of which, since I worked from home, I was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, while my roommate sported his usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue, almost grey, loose sagging jeans.

After doing the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom (on different days, nonetheless), we’re now cleaning his bedroom: we made the (king-sized) bed, sorted Dave’s wardrobe a bit, all that kind of stuff we had to do regardless of our guests anyway (and Dana was very chill anyway). 

We kind of lost rack of time, but given we started right after we finished working, it was around 6:30 PM, late-ish afternoon basically.

“We still got plenty of time.” I remarked, while folding a t-shirt.

“Yep.” Dave replied. “We could make a mess and still have time to clean up, if you know what I mean.” he winked at me, glancing at his king-sized bed.

“Well, you are pretty fast.” I made fun of him.

His response was a pair of socks harmlessly hitting my face.

“I see you’re done with those.” I sarcastically said as I picked them up.

“Yeah, the wardrobe’s pretty much done, thanks.” he said, as I handed the last t-shirt to him.

Honestly, we did a pretty good job. This wasn’t the first time we did this kind of stuff at all, but I was impressed by how fast we got things done this time.

“Let’s make this last.” I stated, admiring how clean the room was.

Dave stood next to me, arms crossed. “Yep. It smells good, even!”

“Yes it doe- I can’t believe I fell for it.”

My friend just casually ripped a monstrously loud 3 second fart, the sound easily silencing my voice. He winked at me again, with a smug smile, knowing very well that, well, I appreciated.

“Please don’t ruin everything we’ve done.” I jokingly begged him.

“Hey!” he stated, faking an assertive tone. “My bedroom, my rules.”

A moment of silence, then I heard him sniffing the air around him.

“But yeah…” he admitted, trying not to laugh. “That was terrible.”

The stench reached both of our nostrils and, believe it or not, it was bad. Yes, I have a fart kink, but some things can be too much to handle even for me, and to be honest I’m here more for the amazing loud sounds.

Dave opened the window just a bit so the bedroom won’t stink like rotten meat when Dana steps in later.

“Unless your ass has more things to say, that should be enough.” I said, looking at him and the window.

My bro shook his head in response and laughed a bit.

“Dude if you want to hear more farts you can just ask for it ya know.” He casually said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You know I don’t care.” he then added, as he walked past me to check his phone on the bed, again so casually it almost confused me. Was he being sarcastic or not?

A moment of silence, as I needed a moment to understand what he meant.

Again, I do have a fart kink but… I wasn’t asking for anything. Hell, even though it’s been more than a year since he found out and accepted me, I never ever even had the guts to properly ask him for, well, a “fart session”, because at this point that’s what often happens between us. We’d go days or even weeks without face-farting (even though I’d hear him farting A LOT, either to tease me or just randomly like bros do), then Dave would just straight-up “bully” me by being the most amazing and open-minded straight gassy bro in the world. 

A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“I wasn’t asking for anything.” I stated.

Dave snorted and smiled, eyes glued on the phone. “Yeah… sure.”

I admit I felt a bit… am I in the position to say ‘offended’? 

I… I don’t want him to think that he’s my bro because of, well, this kinky stuff. 

I stepped closer to him. “Again: I wasn’t asking.”

“Dude.” he looked up to me. “It’s fine. We’re good.” he laughed.

A few moments of silence, interrupted by my friend’s tapping on his phone. I didn’t like this atmosphere. Was I being an asshole? Dave was just being… so casually open-minded about my gross kink and that’s how I thank him? By thinking ill of him?

He doesn’t care… and yet some times I almost wish that he’d did.

Maybe I just like drama?

I decided to break the tension (which wasn’t even there, but anxiety took me over quickly).

“Well… what if I was asking… not that I was…” I tried to say.

Dave’s only response was just turning to me again, listening with a bored, yet amused-ish look on his face.

“I’d never ask you.” I finally said, after stuttering a bit more.

My friend shook his head again, amused by my response.

“Okay… thanks for sharing. Very interesting.” he said, sarcastically.

I took a deep breath. “I’d never ask because...”

Dave narrowed his eyes and interrupted me with the muffled sound of another loud fart, another quick thunder, lasting “only” 5 seconds. Despite having his denim, sagging ass glued to the bed, the roar could still be heard clearly. At least the stench was trapped there… for the most part.

“Good one.” I tried to joke. Then went back to being a stuttering idiot. “I’d never ask because…”

My friend interrupted me again, this time by standing up and stepping towards me, looking annoyed but still weirdly amused.

“Yes yes because you don’t want me to think that we’re bros only because you’re a kinky bastard and I just happen to be the fart king, right? Is this what you’re trying to say? Is that correct?”

I just remained silent and took a deep breath… inhaling some of the stench that used to be trapped under Dave’s ass.

“Bro I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he laughed. “I do appreciate that you don’t ask.” he admitted “But… that won’t stop me from destroying your face.” 

That… that didn’t go into the direction I thought it would.

“Sorry.” I simply said.

Dave just laughed at how… needlessly stupid I was being.

“Alright. Looks like we’re gonna make a mess after all.” 

He stared at me with a smirk. He then quickly grabbed my arms and tripped me over so I could fell on his bed.

“Bro, it’s fine, sorry I sai-“ I tried to say, actually trying not to laugh.

“Hey, my bedroom, my rules.” he remarked, stepping on the bed, easily towering over me.

He took a few steps and after I ended up with my head between his feet, he made sure to align his sagging ass with my face, so he could squat down and just use my nose as a pillow to rest his ass on.

The denim was rough and beautiful to look at, the seams and textures of his jeans tickling my face. I took a deep whiff and I could smell the stench of his previous farts. Since he was sagging, my nose also brushed against his red sweaty underwear, the only thing between my nose and his powerful anus.

After a few seconds of silence, he stopped moving and ripped a huge blast, up close and personal, down my throat. Damn, today his ass likes being louder than usual, with the blast almost making me go deaf. It was probably as loud as the previous ones, but since I was with my nose planted into the source of that fart this time, it felt way louder. 

It certainly was longer though, this one lasting about 9 seconds before stopping.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, the only reason being to give me time to, well, properly enjoy the stench, which again I did, but the sounds of Dave’s farts was the main event for me every time he blasted me. I’ll never get used to it, to all of this, to his blasts, to him being so casual and open-minded about my kink.

After a few seconds, he leaned back and spread his legs a bit, still having his ass planted on my face. He did that so he could stare down at me, at the victim of his flatulence, at what remained of my sweaty face.

He was laughing, still sporting that evil smirk.

“I knew you weren’t asking by the way.” he said, and the bastard winked at me one more time.

Before I could say something in return, most likely an insult, my head shook as he ripped yet another blast. He closed his eyes as he kept pushing, as he let his ass roar all over my face; and the fact that I could see him do that, that I could stare right into his eyes as he farted, all while my nostrils were burning, further hardened by boner. 

He sighed in relief and looked down to me one more ime after the 7 seconds blast ended. He then leaned back a bit more, now fully lying on his bed, legs up, with my face still in front of his sagging denim. 

Oddly enough, we remained like that for a couple of dozens of seconds, until my straight bro talked to me. I couldn’t see his face this time: I was too startled to talk, to process how how that was, and my eyes were glued on that smelly “wall” of sagging jeans in front of me, a “wall” that hid my friend’s face from my point of view.

“You alive, bro?” he jokingly asked.

“Sadly, yes.” my deadpan answer.

Dave laughed at my response.

“No worries, I’m brewing a big one that’s gonna kill ya for good.” 

The friendliest, yet hottest threat I ever received.

“Ready?” he then asked.

How did such a simple word become so hot to me is a mystery; but being something that Dave would often say before unleashing some of the loudest, most powerful farts I ever heard certainly didn’t help.

In hindsight, that’s not a mystery at all…

Either way, my answer to his question was another question, and I mustered all the courage I had to actually speak.

“Dave… can I ask you something?” Though it was my boner doing the talk now I’m afraid.

“Sure.” he quickly responded, surprisingly enough.

A few moments of silence, my heart racing fast. I took deep breaths, accidentally inhaling more of the polluted air around me. I was nervous, I was sweating.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I’m just gonna let my ass speak then.” another hot threat from my bro.

“Okay wait.” I finally said. 

I still couldn’t see my friend’s face as I was resting my head in front of his ass, which covered most most of my view.

“For your next… fart…” I managed to say.

“Yes…?” he said, in a very amusing formal tone of voice.

 “Can you…” I took a deep breath. “Can you, like…”

Dave laughed at me stuttering like an idiot, but I kept going.

“Can you hold my head into your ass?”

First response: silence.

Moments of silence, moments that to me lasted hours.

I did it, I crossed the line. 

I fucked up.

I betrayed my straight bro’s trust by going too far.

He’s Dave, a straight, open-minded friend that accepted my kink and yet I couldn’t help but let my thirst take the wheel, ruining everything.

It doesn’t help that he did hold my head still into his ass as he face-farted me other times in the past, but downright asking him to do it… I’m already regretting it.

That’s too gross.

Then, I felt it.

I just felt it.

I felt his left hand grabbing my head; he raised his left leg and leaned a bit, so he could properly fulfil my request. With a firm grasp, he planted my defenceless, sweaty face straight up into his sagging, smelly denim ass, holding me still, making sure I couldn’t move.

“Wow. You are a kinky bastard after all.” He said. “Just like I’m the fart king” he snickered.

I tried to speak, but talking while your moth is constantly “kissing” your gassy friend’s ass is a bit difficult, yet Dave kind of understood what I was trying to say. He knows me, after all.

“Bro…” He pushed my head even more, my nose almost going through the red fabric of his underwear and right between his asscheeks. “The only thing you should be afraid of is getting exactly what you wish for.”

Another one of those hot threats. Is he doing that on purpose? 

A moment of silence followed… the silence before the storm.

“Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question.

The earthquake that struck my face was as loud as it was powerful. My friend’s ass roared straight into my nostrils and mouth, with Dave making sure my face was glued to his powerful anus, right where it belonged (not that I wanted to move anyway).

The deep, chainsaw-like noise shook the the whole bedroom, and for a moment I thought of the stench that basically ruined all of our hard work of cleaning things up, but my bro cared even less than me about that, as his ass kept screaming at my face, my nose gently brushing between his denim and his underwear. 

My nostrils were burning, my eyes got wet.

On paper, this was nothing new for me: Dave farts in my face very often, even holding my head still like he’s doing now. However… the fact that he did it because I found the guts to ask for it made pre-cum erupt from the tip of my cock (I guess I’m the fast one then) which at this point I assume my bro knows about.

Even though I had my entire face glued to his denim ass, I still managed to get a good look of it and as my face kept getting blasted, I once again realized how lucky I was to have a friend like him. 

Dave had it all: he’s smart, he’s tall, good-looking, funny and, as he put it a few moments ago, he casually happens to be the fart king, and the fact that I have the… I’d say the privilege to get constantly face-farted by him, to admire his ass this up close and personal, was more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

That good-looking guy you saw across the street? Well, he’s actually my bro… and he’s farting in my face.

12 seconds and the fart finally started to lose some of its power. He could rip longer farts than this, natural and/or on command (this time it was all natural, like 99% of the times), which was already impressively long, but given the context this was probably the hottest one he ever ripped all over my face.

After he was done, he simply let me go, or rather, let my head fall as I was completely stunned by what just hit me. I admired that sagging denim ass in front of me a bit more, still engulfed by an invisible cloud of gas.

“Anything else you wanna ask?” he joked, teasing me on purpose.

“Maybe I’ll just ask you to stop.” I played along, though I was being serious.

“Good choice” Dave said, a quick, loud 2-seconds fart following his response.

I managed to stand up, fighting the urge to plant my face into his ass again to properly enjoy that last rip. 

I was feeling all dizzy for all the gas and, well, the massive boner I had.

Dave remained on the bed, sitting, as if nothing gross and kinky happened, reaching for his phone again to check some messages.

The bedroom, no gentle way to put this, smelt like ass because of my friend’s massive farts.

“Welp, much like you, Dana’s coming.” Dave casually commented, eyes on his phone.

“You do realize that this room smells like ass, right?” I told him, ignoring the insult.

“Hey. Not my fault. You asked for it, not me.” he said, with a smirk.

Once again, he proved to me that he just doesn’t care. 

I’m gross and disgusting and while my bro is very aware of the kink… the idea of torturing me is just weirdly amusing to him.

I don’t know why, but that’s how it works.

His bedroom, his rules after all.

The End

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance, Ch III

A/N: hiii sorry this took so long, all the chapters are posted on my AO3, same username. hopefully the next update will be better, i’m not too proud of this one :,(

previous chapters are on AO3 and my master list, here

You and Melissa had agreed on meeting after school for coffee on Thursday, giving you each time to prepare some work. One of her students was showing signs of dyslexia, and after a one-on-one meeting with the student, the redhead decided to take action. Via email, she gave you some information to get started and make an IEP for her. It was quite early in the year, and with it being your first year doing this job, you were quite nervous. Nonetheless, you put your best foot forward and got to work nearly immediately. 

Of course, your habit of drowning yourself in work caught the attention of others. A knock at your door pulled you away from the research in front of you. “Hey you! I feel like you’ve been here for weeks and we’ve barely bonded,” Janine announced herself, entering the room. The younger teacher was sweet, and even though her overzealous personality could be a bit much, you knew it was coming from a good heart. 

“Sorry, Janine. I get wrapped up in work pretty easily. How’s your Tuesday going? Kids treating you right?” You asked, minimizing the tabs on your computer. 

“Oh my students are great, right now we’re working on fractions and it’s actually going good!” She said enthusiastically. “I’m glad to hear, can I help you with anything?” You continued. 

“Uh, yeah! Jacob and I are going out for trivia on Thursday, you should totally join us! I heard you went to a great university and we would love to spend some time together after school. Have you met Jacob? He’s so sweet you’ll love him, you know actually-” You cut off Janine before she could start one of her infamous rants, which you heard lots about and we’re lucky to avoid until this point. 

“Actually, I can’t Thursday. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to get to know you guys but, I’m actually meeting with Ms. Schemmenti to help one of her students out.”

Janine’s face dropped, and just as quick as it did, she returned to her peppy demeanor. It reminded you of what she previously said about Melissa, and you silently wondered if there was any truth to it. “Oh, no worries. I’m sure we’ll figure something out soon,” Seemingly wanting to avoid more rejection, Janine gathered her things. “Wait, Friday is our half day, right? Maybe we could go grab lunch or something after school? Make up for me missing trivia?” You offered, not wanting to make her feel bad. 

It seemed like you made the right choice, as Janine immediately bounced back. “That would be awesome! I’ll tell Jacob right now, see you around!” 

-

The rest of the week passed by rather quickly, filled with new paperwork and projects that you continued to work on. Thursday came before you knew it, and with the final bell, the plans you had put most of your attention to were gathered, on their way with you to meet Melissa for coffee. 

Opus was gorgeous inside, filled with neutral colors and artwork from the team and local artists. Plants covered the walls and even decorated some tables. It was nice, you were happy to meet the redhead in a place like this. Upon seeing her, you felt your breath catch and couldn’t take your eyes away. Sure, it was right after school so she was wearing the same pink sweater and tight jeans, but something about seeing her more relaxed, outside of the school walls, it made your heart beat a little bit faster. 

“Hey hon, thanks for meeting with me after school. I brought some stuff to brainstorm with…” She trailed off, picking a table for the two of you and immediately covering it with papers and binders. Janine’s voice rang in your head again, and you began to feel insecure about where you stood with Melissa. Maybe even stupid, for thinking she would find a friend in you. 

“That’s fine, I’m gonna grab our coffees, macchiato?” You asked, but Melissa was quick to turn down the offer. “Absolutely not, you buy me coffee all the time. It’s my turn,” she walked past you, gently pushing you to the side with a hand on your back. Just as quickly as you remembered the infamous words about the older teacher, you forgot them. 

The rest of the afternoon was that way. One moment, completely entranced by the woman across the table from you, unable to pull your attention away. The next, avoiding eye contact and feeling uncomfortable and used. Something told you Melissa noticed your switch in behaviors almost every time, the way she would mimic your actions. It was impossible to read her. Maybe she wanted it that way, maybe you just couldn’t read her. 

After a couple of hours of this back and forth, the two of you decided to call it. “Thank you, again, for helping me. It means a lot,” Melissa said outside of the cafe, wind blowing her hair ever so slightly. “Oh…It’s no problem, I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smiled and turned to take your leave, anxiety bubbling at the surface, until a hand grabbed your wrist to face its owner yet again. “Hey, what’s goin’ on with you today? Usually you’re more…I don’t know…upbeat and engaged. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just…I mentioned to Janine the lunch you shared with me earlier and she said something that made me a little nervous,” You answered. As much as you didn’t want to tell the truth, you figured lying would be even worse. Instead of replying, Melissa motioned for you to continue. “She said she hoped you weren’t buttering me up for something and why else would you be nice to me?” 

Wrong choice. Melissa’s eyes widened and you could see all the rage she had in her expression. “Oh, so I can’t be nice to the newbie for one day? I gotta get somethin’ out of it? And you believed her…This whole time? Whole time you’ve been buying me coffee and offering to help, what are you trying to get out of it?” She yelled, and didn’t give you any time to retaliate as she got in her car and left you on the steps. 

Defeated, you stood alone for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You felt like an idiot, again. For believing what Janine said, and for treating Melissa poorly. You threw your work into the passenger seat of the car and drove to trivia. 

-

“Oh my god! I thought you weren’t coming? Weren’t you going to meet Melissa today?” Janine nearly yelled as she ran from her booth of friends up to you. “Yeah…I did. It didn’t go too well actually so I wanted to come here and at least have a good night. I hope that’s okay?” 

“Of course it is, here come sit with all of us.” Janine led you back to the booth with Jacob and Gregory, happy to be in the company of new friends. “Alright, trivia doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, what happened?” Janine asked, which was followed by Jacob interrogating you as well, and Gregory listening attentively. You explained the entire afternoon to the three of them, hoping to at least get it out of your system. All three of them had something different to say, but you took Gregory’s advice to heart. 

“Listen, Melissa’s a bit tough on the outside, but she always means well. Just apologize to her for reacting that way and, with time, I’m sure things will be fine.”

Thankfully, trivia started shortly after the advice dump you received, and you were happy to be done talking about it. Hopefully tomorrow morning, with a macchiato and an apology, you could make it up to Melissa. 

[watchyourbuck]

Fuck it Friday ✰⋆⁺

hello my dearly beloved djdjdj, I wanna apologize for being terrible at reading what yall have been tagging me in, it’s just that I’ve had to deal with a lot of residual stuff I’ve been postponing for some time and as one might imagine it’s taken me a minute to go through it all (I’m not even done yet), but pls worry not, I will read it all, so pls don’t stop tagging me!!!!!!

point in case, tagged for tonight by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 & @wildlife4life ✨ thank you my loves, pls be patient with me I beg of u 😭

either way, I’m dead set on finishing Dear Maddie this week, so here’s another snippet from chapter 4 (they’re 10 total, and I’ll be posting all 10 at the same time).

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

"Dear Maddie (...)

It was months until we had our actual, real first date. He had recently broken up with Taylor and I’m guessing he needed to blow off some steam. A part of me warned me not to go out with him in that state, that I shouldn’t step up into a place of pain just because I wanted him so bad, but I didn’t listen. The part of me that longed to kiss that smile of his was slightly stronger. Maybe it was wrong – or it is still –, but I’m thankful that I said yes. If I hadn’t, our story would have been postponed, or maybe it would have been inexistent. I don’t like to think about that, it makes me really upset.

The date was really stupid. Buck wasn’t in the best mood, and maybe I was in the mood a little too much. Not THE mood, just- a loving mood. I showed up at his door in a suit, carrying flowers and chocolates. You know who opened the door? Albert. I almost gave them to him. Thank God Buck’s too tall, and too blonde to mistake for anyone else. Still, embarrassing. He laughed – Albert. He thought it was really funny because Buck was wearing jeans and a sweater. My heart almost broke, but Buck was faster. He spotted me from the stairs and changed into a suit himself. I really appreciated the gesture, but I couldn’t help but notice that it was wrinkly. Like he could have never thought that I’d go all out, or that I’d take him somewhere nice, and I can’t help but wonder, even to this day, if that says more about what he thought of me… or what he thought about himself. Both of them hurt, but for different reasons."

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

tagging in return @jeeyuns @thewolvesof1998 @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fortheloveofbuddie @butraura @firemedicdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @loserdiaz @puppyboybuckley @honestlydarkprincess @smilingbuckley @bucksbackwardcap @bucksbirthmark @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @tsunamibuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars & @try-set-me-on-fire pls let me know if you wish to be removed from this!!💗

[catamano]

6:47am - Georgia

By the time my alarm finally goes off, I’ve already been awake for at least an hour. I didn’t sleep very well last night, I think I woke up twice. I roll over to grab my phone, which has somehow made it to the floor. I guess it’s time to actually get up. I shake off my blanket and sit up, my alarm still blaring. I lean down and grab my phone, silencing the alarm with the button on the side. 6:47am, ew, at least it’s almost Friday. Sixteen texts, all from my math class group chat. My teacher posted the grades last night. I guess I was asleep or at the game. What’s the website again? I might as well check my grade now. Power something. Before I can think of it, I remember there’s an app.

“Peach? Are you up?” I hear my dad ask, followed by a knock.

“Yeah,” I respond, yawning. Username… What did Mom make it? This was my first test of the year, so I’ve never actually logged in before. I’m sure she sent it to me.

“There’s no hot water this morning,” Dad tells me.

“That’s fine, I showered last night,” I reply. As soon as I got home, I showered and passed out. Our game went on forever, we barely won in the third set. Coach gave me about a five minute in the second set break before she threw me back in. At least my shoulder doesn’t hurt this morning. I turn to my left, giving it a slight stretch. Just kidding. 

“Breakfast in twenty,” he informs me. I don’t say anything in response. I hear him knocking at Lucy’s door, relaying to her the same thing he told me. 

I find the username and password in my texts with Mom. The username is just my name and the password is her usual password to everything. 1122050407010119. It looks like a random assortment of numbers, but it’s actually all of our birthdays strung together. I type them both into the app and wait for it to load. I think I did okay on the test. Math isn’t my strongest class this year. The home screen pops up and I press on my math class. I have a C? 72/100 on the test. Shit. That’s three points away from failing.My school doesn’t do D’s, so anything under a 70 is counted as an F.

There’s another knock on the door, quieter this time, I’m guessing it’s Mom. “Good morning, love, are you awake?” she asks. 

“Yeah, I’m awake.” I stand up, leaving my phone on my bed. I can’t believe I got a C. I’ve never gotten a C. At least it’s only the first test.

“Can I come in?” Ugh. Not now.

“I’m getting dressed.” I still need to figure out what I’m going to wear today. There’s no game, which means I don’t have to dress up. Thank god. I’m too tired to think of an outfit.

“I can wait,” she says.

“What do you want?” I ask her, slightly annoyed. I open my closet and see clothes everywhere. I really need to do laundry. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” she replies.

“Dad already told me about the shower.”

“It’s not about the shower.” What does she want? There’s no way it’s about my test. She and Dad stopped checking my grades years ago.

“Okay. You can’t talk to me about it later?” I quickly change into a t-shirt and my last clean pair of jeans. Black on black, nice. My jeans feel a little loose, so I grab the only black belt off my shelf. It’s actually Mom’s belt, she let me borrow it months ago. I forgot it was still in here. Should I even wear this? Whatever, it’s fine. Mom’s expensive belt it is.

“Are you upset?” I just got up five minutes ago. What does she need at seven in the morning?

“No, just tired,” I sigh, dragging a brush through my tangled hair. If the grades are up, that means we’re definitely getting our tests back today. Great. I can’t wait to see how bad I did.

“Did you sleep okay?” I roll my eyes. Really, Mom? I don’t feel like having a conversation through the door.

“Just come in.”

The door opens and in steps Mom. She seems to be in a good mood this morning. Can’t relate.

“Hi,” she greets softly. I don’t turn around.

“What?” I bluntly reply. I’m staring at her through the mirror.

“Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” I lie, “I’m just tired.” If I tell Mom that I did bad on my test, she’s just going to tell me it’s okay. It’s normal to fail sometimes, love. That’s not what I want to hear right now.

“Georgia-”

“What do you want, Mom?” I interrupt. I wish she’d leave me alone.

“What’s wrong?” She’s standing behind me, watching me with concerned eyes.

“You had something you wanted to talk to me about,” I remind her.

“That can wait. What’s bothering you?”

“Seriously? You came in here to tell me something and now you’re not gonna tell me?” I’m frustrated now. 

“I’ll tell you after you tell me what’s bothering you,” she says. She reaches for my shoulder, I pull away.

“I already told you. Nothing,” I lie for the second time. I know she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care. Mom lies, I can too.

She frowns, clearly not satisfied by my answer. “We both know that’s not true.”

“So now you’re calling me a liar?” I retort.

“Georgia-”

I cut her off again, “Tell me or get out.”

She doesn’t respond. I know she’s not going tell me whatever she wanted to say. Whatever. I’m not surprised. Not telling me things seems to be her favorite thing to do these days.

“I’ll leave you alone,” she finally says, “Breakfast will be ready soon, okay?”

“Dad already told me.”

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” she pauses, “I love you.” Her eyes meet mine for a second before I quickly look away.

Mom stands there for a few more seconds before quietly leaving. I return to my phone, maybe I read the grade wrong. I log in again and wait for it to load. Wrong password, dang it. I always forget the order. I try the password for the second time and it lets me in.  Algebra 2, C-. Nope, didn’t read it wrong, I still have a C. Great. Maybe Ms. Stevens will let me do corrections or extra credit or something. I don’t know. I’ve never gotten a grade this low before.

[hairstevington]

Freaky Friday (Steddie's Version) - chapter 2!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve have swapped bodies. They have to shower and it's weird. Time to set some ground rules, I guess. Chapter 1, Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, more chapters to come

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slow(ish??) burn, canon universe (more or less) set before season 4, me adding in lore than the show didn't touch on such as how Eddie and Steve met etc, body swap, ANGST, revenge, POV switching, honestly just tons of fun lmao

A/N: WOW this got so much attention and that makes me happy because I love writing it. I will definitely keep this one going, I have soooo many ideas. Stay tuned for next chapter, because it's going to be a wild one!

“I gotta get out of these clothes, dude,” Eddie said, itching at the stiff material of the vest and Steve’s jeans. “I’m gonna shower, I promise I won’t ogle your naked body or anything, I just wanna get clean.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve agreed. “Why do you wear these chains? They’re weighing me down, I keep having to pull these goddamn pants back up.” He said this as he demonstrated what he meant. Eddie had never really thought about it much. Staring at himself was making him feel weird. 

“Okay, well you have a shower at home, don’t you?” Eddie asked as he took the vest off and threw it to the floor. “Probably something voice activated with a robot butler who hands you a fresh towel.”

“Jesus, Munson, you’re so dramatic,” Steve groaned. “My bathroom is normal.”

“Whatever you say,” Eddie dismissed. Steve’s shirt came off next, joining the vest on the floor. Eddie walked back down the hall to the bathroom. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to think until he was dirt-free and in his own clothes. 

“I can’t go home like this!” Steve shouted from the living room. Eddie smirked, then turned around. 

“Why not?” he hissed. “Is Daddy Harrington gonna beat you up for looking like that? No, sorry. Would he beat me up for having the audacity to enter his perfect home?” Steve’s jaw clenched, and there was a look in his eyes that made Eddie immediately feel like he’d gone too far, and not in a fun way. 

“Watch it,” he warned. “My dad’s out of town, but my mom would probably call the cops, yeah.”

“Charming,” Eddie replied as he turned back around and continued his journey to the bathroom. He unfastened the jeans and shimmied himself out of them, leaving him only in Steve’s boxers. 

Steve’s body was far more toned and muscular than Eddie’s was. It was clear he worked hard to keep himself looking good, even post-graduation. It was the kind of body that probably hadn’t so much as seen a carb in the last ten years. 

Eddie didn’t really care about any of that, of course. But also, almost everybody wanted to look like this, deep down. 

As he stood there in boxers alone, he began to feel the trepidation that Steve referred to about seeing each other naked. It definitely felt like a weird, nonconsensual line to cross, but what other option did they have?

Eddie heard his own rough hand clamor against the doorframe, the rings making a distinct noise against the wood.

“Hey, asshole, I'm serious,” Steve said. “I’m trying to be a good guy here, and you just -”

“I see what you mean,” Eddie interrupted. He also in that moment realized that Steve was right in pointing out the amount of times Eddie cut him off. Oops. “About the showering thing. It’s weird. Let’s talk about it.”

Steve was clearly stunned by Eddie’s rapid turnaround into compliance. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” Steve stuttered.

“You have, like, a lot of chest hair,” Eddie said, looking at the newly exposed parts of him in the mirror. 

“Is that what you want to talk about? Seriously?” Steve balked. Eddie smirked. 

“No, just an observation. I don’t have much chest hair. I mean, you’ll see.”

“Okay, I think talking about it is making it worse,” Steve said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

“Well soooorryyyy, I’ve never done this before!” Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Steve chuckled. “What? Is my misery fun to you?”

“I mean, yeah,” he replied. “I’m laughing because this whole thing is, like - I mean, you know. It’s funny.” Eddie would never have chosen that particular word to describe their situation, but whatever. “Okay, so when I take this shirt off am I gonna see a third nipple or something?”

He wasn’t expecting Steve to make a joke like that. It caught him off guard so much he genuinely laughed. 

“I don’t have a third nipple, but are you afraid of spiders?” Steve raised one eyebrow, confused, then shook his head. “Good. I have a big one tattooed riiiight around here.” Eddie took a step forward and pushed his index finger into Steve’s chest - his own chest, really - at the approximate location of the tattoo. It was a bit of a mindfuck to make physical contact with his own self and not be able to feel one side of it. 

“Why a spider?” Steve asked with genuine interest.

“Because it looks badass,” Eddie responded. There was a far more meaningful reason, but Steve Harrington didn’t deserve to know it. He may have had Eddie’s body, but Eddie still had his mind, and thank god for that. It was dark in there sometimes. “Okay, so I’m gonna go in there -” Eddie pointed at the shower, “- and I’m gonna shut my eyes and just not think about it. Then you’re going to do the same thing, and then we’re gonna bury the whole experience deep into the depths of our souls and never talk about it ever again. Poof! Error message. Memory does not exist. Deal?”

“Works for me,” Steve agreed with a shrug. Eddie sighed deeply, then motioned for Steve to leave so he could shower in peace. 

Okay, maybe not in peace, but at least he was alone. Just him. Eddie. 

In someone else’s body. In Steve Harrington’s fucking body. 

What a nightmare.

-

Steve waited on Eddie’s couch and stared into space, the sounds of running water through the wall. He tried to wrap his head around the entire sequence of events that had led him here. If I had just let Eddie rescue Dustin, and stayed at my goddamn job, none of this would have happened.

His father really would have been so disappointed in him.

Steve thought about his first time interacting with Eddie, way back in middle school. Steve was a seventh grader, but he still hung around with the popular kids and had a decent reputation. He was funny and didn’t take things too seriously. At the school talent show, he and some buddies did a choreographed dance to the song I Will Survive, and everybody loved it. A real crowd pleaser. 

Steve sat in the audience and let the next act go, still high off his own performance, and saw a 13 year old Eddie Munson walk up on stage with his band, Corroded Coffin. His hair was buzzed, and he was a lot smaller than he was now. 

They played alright, considering they were a bunch of kids. That didn’t stop Steve’s friends from making fun of them, though. 

“Freaks,” Tommy coughed loudly into his hand. The rest of Steve’s group laughed, making other similar comments. Steve laughed with them, because that was the thing to do. Something uncomfortable stirred inside of him, but he chose to ignore it, as he continued to do throughout the rest of middle and high school. 

That was his first brush with Eddie, but it wasn’t the last. 

Yeah, he’d been a douchebag. Robin had reminded him of this enough for him to come to terms with it. He did and said a lot of shitty things, and watched in silence as his so-called friends said and did even shittier things. 

He hadn’t even noticed that the water had stopped running until Eddie poked his head back out into the living room. Steve’s jaw dropped as he watched Eddie absolutely manhandle Steve’s well-kempt locks. 

“Dude,” he announced, offended. “Fuck, I - I didn’t even think about-”

“What?” Eddie asked, concern flashing across his face. 

“My hair,” Steve explained. “What did you even use on it?” Eddie stared at him in disbelief as he stood up from the couch and reached out to feel the damage. “Jesus Christ, man, have you ever heard of conditioner?” His fingers grasped a few strands and rubbed them together, before Eddie swatted his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me.” Eddie warned, his face gravely serious.

“Technically, I’m touching myself,” Steve replied, before immediately regretting it. Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but Steve wouldn’t let him. “Stop. Whatever you’re about to say, don’t do it. I’m gonna shower now.”

So, he did. He went into the bathroom and stripped off Eddie’s shirt, seeing the spider and skull tattoo underneath for the first time. It did kinda look badass, he realized. Steve had no tattoos - although he’d thought about it a few times. He just couldn’t commit to anything he’d really want on his body forever. He continued removing clothing, placing the rings on the counter and pants on the floor. Here goes nothing, I guess. 

He tried to do what Eddie had proposed - he kept his eyes closed as often as he could and did his best not to think about it, but it was damn near impossible. He was washing a body that was foreign to him, and running his hands through hair with different length, texture, and style. The skin he was in felt completely different. Softer, in some places, like on the stomach. Rougher in others, like on the fingertips. The stubble on his chin was courser than what he’d been used to.

Same parts, different sizes and shapes.

There was basically just a bar of soap and some cheap drug store shampoo in there. Steve shuddered at the thought of his own hair being a victim of that shit - he wondered how many times his hair would have to be washed to really mess up what he’d carefully crafted over the years. 

With any luck, Steve wouldn’t have to find out. He hoped and prayed this was the first and last shower he would ever have to take in Eddie’s body. 

He dried himself off and opened the bathroom door once he was done. 

“Eddie?” he asked, unsure whether he should just walk out in the towel. It’s what Eddie had done before, but he still wanted to tread lightly. 

“In my room.” Steve followed the voice towards the sound. “I didn’t say you could come in here.” 

Apparently, Eddie had heard Steve’s approaching footsteps.

“Okay,” Steve said, backing up again. “Should I…put your clothes back on?”

“Nah,” Eddie said. Steve noted how his voice sounded from outside of himself. It was higher than he thought it would be. Eddie was speaking in a much less angry tone than he had before, which made Steve even more uneasy. “You’re in luck. Everything in here is in your size.” Steve heard shuffling of drawers before Eddie resurfaced in his doorway with jeans and a t-shirt bundled in his hands. 

The light from the bedroom shone behind him, casting shadows on his face. Steve’s face. He was only wearing pajama bottoms, which hung low on his hips. Steve’s eyes locked in on the lit cigarette resting in Eddie’s mouth. 

“I quit years ago,” he noted. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t,” Eddie responded. Steve frowned, thinking of all the times Robin had rambled on and on about the dangers of smoking and the health complications it leads to. He had promised her he wouldn’t smoke again. 

“Just -” Steve hesitated, knowing he sounded whipped. “Don’t smoke in front of Robin, okay?”

“What’s your deal with her anyway?” Eddie asked, the snark in his voice returning. 

“Friends,” Steve said with a shrug. 

“Sure. Friends.” Eddie repeated the word sarcastically, then handed the clean clothes to Steve, who didn’t have the energy to argue. “I don’t plan on seeing her, but sure. I’ll refrain from smoking in her presence, your honor.” 

“You’re gonna see her,” Steve countered, “because we work together tomorrow.” Eddie scoffed. 

“Are you seriously suggesting we just pretend to be each other? Cuz I gotta say, Harrington, that idea is pretty stupid.” 

“You got a better one, super senior?” Steve snapped. He’d been cold stepping out of the shower before, but the anger within him was keeping him warm, now. Eddie chuckled darkly. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. He threw his head back and groaned. “I can’t believe this is happening with you of all people.” 

“Look, man,” Steve began, trying to express what he’d been thinking about earlier. “I know I was an asshole in high school, but a lot has changed since then.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Eddie replied with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m serious!” Steve insisted. “And there were so many other people who treated you worse than I did.”

“You mean your friends?” Eddie countered, his words like venom. 

“They’re not my friends anymore.”

“That’s great for you, Harrington. Juuuust great. Really makes up for all the times you hung around and brushed off the shit they did.” The conversation was getting heated again, and Steve started to feel his heart pounding in his chest. “Get the fuck out of my trailer.”

Steve could have hit him. He still had pent up anger from the assholes that had hurt Dustin, and then there was the ever-growing frustration that his body and life was entrusted to someone he despised. He didn’t want to hate him - no, Steve was trying to be nice now, but since when had Eddie shown him the same effort?

“Fine.” Steve spun around and headed back to the bathroom so he could quickly slip the clothes on. They were, of course, a perfect fit. The pants were well worn and shaped to his body, the shirt soft and loose. The two men were about the same size, Steve noticed. 

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaimed from his room. Steve peeked out from the bathroom only to see Eddie trudging back out to meet him again. “I can’t miss school or I won’t graduate. And I have to graduate okay? I have to. So fine, Harrington. You win. I’ll work at Family Video tomorrow so you can keep your stupid job, and you’ll go back to high school for me. Sound good?”

Shit. Steve had no interest in going back to school. He wasn’t that good at it the first time around. 

“None of this is good, Munson.” Steve sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. Irritable. He felt a craving for cigarettes. God dammit, I have his fucking nicotine addiction. The residual smell of smoke in the trailer didn’t help. “Okay, yeah. You’ll work, I’ll go to school. We both have shit at stake.”

“Seems that way,” Eddie admitted. “Not that you’ll be any better in school than me. Maybe I should have body swapped with Nancy Wheeler or something -”

“I’m leaving.” Steve turned around and headed down the hall, picking up his car keys on the way to the front door. He paused, then turned back around. “People are gonna notice if I show up to work in your red van.”

“Yeah, like I wanna be seen showing up to school in your prissy car, Harrington,” Eddie called from out of sight. “I don’t care if people notice. Don’t let the door hit me in the ass on your way out.” 

Steve chuckled dryly at the humor and shook his head in disbelief. This was ridiculous. This was going to end in disaster. But what other choice did he have?

He got in his (nice, perfectly normal car) and drove back to his house. The light in his parent’s bedroom was on, which meant his mom had turned in for the night and would be sleeping soon. This was good, because he could sneak in without being noticed - which would surely have caused commotion. Steve wasn’t that close with his mom, but he was closer with her than he was his dad. She was just kind of distant. She didn’t really know Steve at all. If he tried to convince her of the body swap, he wouldn’t even know what he would say to prove his identity. 

Robin and Dustin on the other hand? Easy. Steve figured he could convince any of the Upside Down gang, if he had to. It was something to keep in mind when this whole thing inevitably got worse. 

He had to wake up early and go to goddamn high school in the morning. Jesus. At least he’d be leaving before his mom woke up. That crisis was averted, for now, but if this lasted through the next day he wouldn’t be so lucky.

He hoped as he crawled into bed that night that he would wake up in his own body. He wondered if this whole thing was payback for all the stupid shit he’d done years before. 

He thought that maybe, this is what he deserved.

-

Eddie hated Steve, and he hated being in Steve’s perfect, chiseled body. He hated that he had to wash the stupid green vest and put it back on in the morning, then act semi-normal at Family Video. He had to, because he did have something to lose after all. 

Wayne Munson had taken Eddie in a few years prior, and he’d been more than kind despite the amount of trouble Eddie frequently got into. Wayne didn’t ask questions about Eddie dealing drugs, or coming home after school with swollen knuckles and a chip on his shoulder. He supported Eddie through his failing senior year, then failing it again. 

But Wayne had made it abundantly clear that this year was Eddie’s last chance. If he didn’t graduate, he was cut off. 

It made sense, of course. Eddie didn’t blame Wayne for that decision. Eddie had grown complacent in high school, running Hellfire and avoiding all the future responsibilities he desperately wanted to avoid. He didn’t have much of a future anyway, so why hurdle himself towards it?

He wasn’t even bullied so much in school as much as he was avoided and hated. People thought low of him, but it was manageable. They feared him too, at least. 

He wanted to stay in his weird bubble, but if he did he’d end up on the streets, and probably be found dead somewhere. 

He wondered how he’d be treated in the world now that he looked like Steve. He imagined the difference would be vast. Of course it would be. Society was a prison for which there was no escape and no bail. 

Eddie hated Steve, and rightfully so. Steve had always been popular, charming, and adored. It was silly to think that years ago, Eddie had hoped that maybe Steve would be different. He hoped that Steve would be better than the others who looked down on anyone who didn’t come from money or who maybe looked a little different. 

The first few times Eddie had been the victim of harsh stares and rude comments, he’d looked for Steve’s face in the crowd and hoped he would speak up. Eddie gave him a few chances, and then he realized that Steve wasn’t better than those other assholes. If anything, he was worse. 

Eddie wanted to burn his whole world down.

(next chapter)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@thegoatscoat @ao3screenshots @stevessluttywaist @tartarusfairy @croatoan-like-its-hot @mightbeasleep @ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay@stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence

[thewolvesof1998]

fuck it friday

Tagged by the wonderful @heartbeatdiaz @wikiangela @spotsandsocks thank you 🧡🩷💛 

I couldn’t decide between posting more of my ‘Buddie Rodeo/Bull Riding AU’ or a little bit more of my Buddie Librarian AU so I thought well fuck it I’ll give you a little bit of both, It’s fuck it Friday after all. 

Let me check you out: (for the amazing @hannah-ruth-990)

Eddie had never met someone like Buck. Someone so infuriating, chaotic and well, hot. When Bobby had told him he would be sharing an office with a man named Buck who is a little eccentric, he had been expecting an older guy, not a 6’2 tall guy who was dressed in mid-blue jeans that hugged his long legs and a brightly knitted sweater that he’s pretty sure he’d seen one of Christopher’s preschool teachers wearing one time, to walk into the office. He couldn’t be any older than Eddie himself and well what Bobby had said kinda made sense now:

“You’ll be sharing with Buck until we get your office fixed, again I am really sorry about the inconvenience, but I have a feeling you’ll get along great.”

Eddie had been confused, of course he can get along with his colleagues, always makes an effort to be polite, but the way Bobby had said it made it sound like more than that. He’d also be confused later when Buck had walked in and Eddie’s tongue had gotten stuck to the roof of his mouth, wondering how in the hell Bobby had known Eddie’s type when he wasn’t even sure of it himself.

Bobby shows him the office and Eddie grimaces at the mess, it was like a tornado had gone through the space. It set Eddie on edge, he likes a clean and organised space, otherwise, he’d never be able to focus to get work done. 

“This will be your desk here,” Bobby points to the right one, just as full as the left one, “sorry for the clutter, Buck is a little eccentric.”

Eddie had just nodded and gotten to work tidying up his desk and moving the piles of stuff over onto the left desk when Buck walks in. His smile as bright as his overly cheerful sweater, dimmed as he saw Eddie. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck with how suddenly he finds Buck attractive. Normally it takes him a while to figure that stuff out but it's glaringly obvious similar to how glaringly hideous that sweater is. Seriously if he can find Buck attractive in that he’s doomed. 

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em:

Eddie’s right hand slides up his back, cups the back of Buck’s neck and pulls him in for a chaste kiss before mouthing down his neck and sucking another mark onto it, this one higher than the last and not so easily hidden. Buck moans, grinding down against Eddie.

“I think you have an obsession with marking me,” Buck means it as a tease, but it comes out more breathy and needy than he attends. 

Eddie looks up at Buck, cheeks flushing red and pulling away from Buck as much as he can with him in his lap. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-I-”

“It's okay I like it,” Buck says but Eddie continues like he didn’t hear Buck, working himself up, running a hand through his hair and his eyes darting around, avoiding Buck’s gaze. 

“-I should have asked, I shouldn’t just have assumed-”

“Eddie,” Buck grabs his face between his hands, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “Hey, hey it's okay! I liked it, okay? But I don’t really think this is really about hickeys, or not only about hickeys, what's got you freaking out?”

Eddie finally meets Buck’s eyes, they’re filled with what Buck thinks is panic. Eddie goes to say something, closes his mouth and chews on his lip. Finally, he sighs and flops backwards on the bed and covers his face with his arm. He says something but Buck can’t make it out. 

“I can’t hear you”

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie says decidedly louder

“What sex?” Buck jokes

Eddie snorts, “No-ah-you know.” 

And Buck does know, he’s been people’s first before, knows that a lot of guys he picks up from the Rodeo have only had straight sex, but from the way Eddie had been last week, Buck had kinda been under the impression that Eddie had some experience with guys. 

“First time with a man,” Buck says 

“Yeah-yes that but also first time hooking up…casually,” Oh “I don’t know what is allowed, you know, it’s different in a relationship.”

Buck didn’t actually know, the longest he’d dated someone was Sally in high school and that had only been four weeks. 

If you want to check out some of my other works my current WIPs are ‘Buddie MMA Rivals AU’ and ‘Buddie Rodeo/Bull Riding AU’ and here’s a master list of some of my works and this is my AO3

Let me know if you want to be tagged in any update to do with either one of these fics by commenting or tagging it when u reblog! 

No pressure tagging: @wildlife4life @alyxmastershipper @jesuisici33 @prince-buck-diaz @try-set-me-on-fire 

[j-worlds-blog]

She my bestfriend🤞

Background •

Melo and y/n have been friends since they were 14, ever since they met eachother at school they were attached by the hip. Growing up into their adult years their family and many fans shipped them.

Insta:Down town riding with my bestie❤️💯@Lameloball

Melodrip-they better get together bro!

Lballer-Bro he so fine y/n better lock in!

Liked by creator•

Gina-My man looking so fine🤩

Fan19-the fuck u talking bout? That’s her man!^

Y/n-lol^

Lameloball-my girl frfr💯

Liked by creator•

It was a Friday night, the basketball game was in its 2nd quarter, the Hornets were up by 20 points, y/n was sitting on the bleachers wearing one of Melos jerseys with some ripped jeans. Melos parents were there as well as Gina, now Gina and Melo have been close friends, they met at a ball game a few years back, but ever since she’s became very obsessed. She’s always talking about him like their dating and what not. Ofc y/n wouldn’t admit it but she was jealous, Melo was hers first, his family was hers and vise versa. After the last quarter ended the hornets won 45-24. Y/n headed towards the locker rooms to find Lamelo (ofc Gina was following her) while his parents stayed and talked to the coaches.

Conversation

Lamelo•I saw you drooling across the whole court mamas

Y/n• you wish I was drooling over you🤨

L• You right I wish you was drooling on this di-

Gina• Melo! Omg you were so good out there! You looked so hot.

L• Thanks G, I appreciate you coming.

G• Ofc I’ll always come to see my best friend

Y/n• Well.. Melo do you wanna go eat after we leave, I’m getting hungry and we could go wherever you want.

L•Yeah that sounds nice, lemme go get showered and changed ma I’ll be back soon. (As he leaves he kisses reader on the cheek)

G•you know i think I’ll come too

Y/n•um I think we’re just gonna grab it and go, nothing to fancy, so you don’t have to

G•look he’s my best friend too and I wanna go celebrate with him so either you like it or leave.

What Gina or reader didn’t know was that Lamelo has forgotten his phone and was listing to the conversation.

L• hey what’s going on?

G•y/n’s being really mean and telling me I can’t come with you guys!

Y/n• You know what, I’m done with your bullshit Gina! Your not his bestfriend, you can go rant to people about how you know him and all that but your fake! You use him because he gives you clout, so no you can’t come with us because he deserves to be actually celebrated and not used!

G•Uh.. Melo she can’t talk to me like that!

L• actually Gina she can, she’s my girl and if you can’t see that then fuck off. And she’s right you are fake, when cameras or people aren’t around you don’t call me to hang out or see how I’m doing, so no we aren’t friends anymore.

G•Well fuck you both because I can find way better friends than y’all!

After Gina walked away y/n and Melo looked at eachother with eyes that they’ve never seen before.

Y/n• you didn’t have to do that.. she was your friend and you really liked her.

L•no, she wasn’t my friend. And yeah I liked her but I won’t be lost without her. I’d be lost without you though.

Y/n•Lamelo

L•yeah

Y/n•can we go home? I wanna talk to you in private

L• ofc just lemme grab my stuff

After they leave the stadium they headed to grab some tacos and went to his house. After they quickly and quietly ate the reader finally spoke.

Y/n• ok, this might ruin everything about our friendship, but I can’t hide it anymore. Melo I really like you.. like I’m in love with you and it hurts because I know you deserve someone who’s out of this world.. I want to be the friend that’s happy for you when you find a girl you like or the friend that you can talk about your latest hookups with but..I can’t, because I’m selfish and want you to myself. And I know y-

He touches her cheek gently and kisses her lips. Both their lips intertwined with one another’s. Them both pouring out the love they kept bottled up for so long. Neither of them letting go. In that moment they knew it was ok to love eachother, to let the feelings come out, and start something new.

The end..

Thank you for the request! I hope you like this. Like I always say, I’m definitely not the best writer and I’m sorry if it’s a lot or not enough:/ give me some tips of what I could work on, I would appreciate it💜

[dontfeeltoohot]

Eddie's Birthday Weekend: Friday, October 28th YTAU Warnings: Steve snarking at Eddie near the end, oops. This chapter is short, but I hope you enjoy! You can read my detailed info about this entire fic HERE.

X X X

The sound of an alarm going off makes Eddie groan. Dimly aware it’s not his but his boyfriends, the artist hunkers back down under his nest of blankets, listening as Steve’s weight disappears from the left side of the man’s bed. 5:00am is far too early for anyone, but the coffee shop owner takes it like a champ, something Eddie admires about him. He himself doesn’t mind mornings, but there’s always some defining line of absolutely not, and anything before 6:00am is where that line appears. 

Listening to Steve shuffle around quietly, Eddie can picture the man, his ever-flawless hair a little sleep-ruffled, his eyes puffy from sleep. There’s a pause in movement and he knows the younger man is rubbing his face and stretching, probably trying to decide what shirt he wants to wear or if he has time to shower. A minute later he hears the shower turn on. Bingo. In the past month, he feels as though he’s become pretty well versed in Steve-isms, can picture perfectly in his mind the way his nose wrinkles up when he’s yawning, or the way his hand will find his hip when Max or Dustin say something that makes the man annoyed. 

Outside of Steve’s room, he picks up on Robin moving around the apartment, a quiet string of cuss words falling out of her mouth as she bumps into something. Eddie’s grown to love waking up in their apartment, something he thought would take more time getting used to. He’d roomed with Chrissy for a while, and even Gareth at one point, and having roommates had been a test of the man’s patience. Now though, it’s comforting, hearing Robin and Steve go about their morning while he lays there half asleep. 

Time passes, though Eddie’s not sure how much exactly. One second he’s imagining his boyfriend showering, the next there’s a kiss being pressed on his forehead. Eyes opening, he looks up and dark brown eyes meet light. Steve’s smiling at him, wearing a dark red polo and dark wash jeans. 

“Hey sleepyhead. Just wanted to let you know Robs and I are heading out. I hope you have a good day at work, and don’t forget you have your lunch with your uncle.” 

Shit. Steve’s right. Per tradition, he and Wayne have breakfast or lunch together every year to celebrate his birthday. This year, due to schedule conflicts, they’ve decided on a few days before his actual birthday, but Eddie is still excited all the same. It’s easier, too, since he’s living back in the same town as the other man, and not three hours away. 

“Mm, thanks Stevie,” Eddie nods, rubbing his face and sitting up a little so he can catch his boyfriend’s lips in his own. 

“Lemme know how it goes babe! I’ll see you tonight.” 

Steve leaves and Eddie lets himself enjoy another two hours of sleep before his own alarm goes off, alerting him to start the day. Usually, he’ll start his day out with oatmeal and eggs, but because the long haired man is at his boyfriends, he starts it out with changing clothes, popping a Zyrtec from the bottle on Steve’s bathroom counter, and making his way back to his own place. Letting himself into his two bedroom apartment, Eddie pulls up an episode of Gourmet Makes on Youtube and lets it play as background noise while he works on the eggs, mind wandering to the idea of getting a pet. 

Obviously, dogs are a no go- the only kind he’d be able to get is a hypoallergenic one and goldendoodles aren’t really his style. He’s been debating on a cat, but Steve’s allergic. Logically, he knows that shouldn’t be a deciding factor, especially when the man himself says not to worry about it (and they both know Steve kind of wants him to just for indulging purposes), but Eddie can’t help but worry. The other options are a rat, or maybe a hedgehog, which both seem pretty cool and relatively easy. Maybe once his birthday weekend is over and things have calmed down he and Steve can go look at the cats at the shelter, just to get an idea of it all. 

Sitting down at his table with his food, the tattoo artist checks his levels on his pump, makes sure his bolus insulin is set correctly for meal time, then digs in, savoring the hot meal on such a chilly Autumn day. Sunlight is streaming into the apartment, making it look cozy, the balcony allowing for a perfect view of the yellow, red and orange trees in front of the apartment complex. When Eddie finishes; a bite of one and then the other repeated until gone just like every other day for twenty eight years, he rinses his dishes, sets them in the half full dishwasher, and makes his way to the shower. 

11:00am rolls around and Eddie finds himself sitting in a booth by the window at the local diner on Main Street, waiting for his Uncle to arrive. Not a minute later, Wayne Munson walks in, a blue and green flannel on, underneath his well-worn work jacket, a Chicago Cubs hat perched on his head. The twenty eight year old stands and hugs his uncle tight, not having seen him for over a week, then sits back down, handing him the laminated menu despite both of them knowing what they’re getting. 

“Missed you old man, anything new going on?” 

“It’s been less than two weeks, Eddie, Christ. What do you want me to tell you, I’m engaged?” 

Snorting, Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes his arm a little from across the table. 

“I’m just curious about your life, sue me,” he shoots back with a smile. 

The lunch goes like every other one before it- Wayne gets a burger, Eddie gets white bean chili, and they eat in comfortable silence. It reminds the younger man of every night in the trailer when his uncle wasn’t working, how they would share a meal on the couch while watching an old episode of The Andy Griffith Show or Everybody Loves Ray. When he was little, he’d beg for Home Improvement, always enjoying Tim’s antics. 

After the check comes- “I’m payin’ Eds, it’s your damn birthday meal, quit it,” - Wayne pulls out a card from the pocket inside his jacket, and hands it to the guitarist. Opening the envelope, Eddie takes the card out and starts reading, slow and careful. The message on the card is generic, but when he opens up the front, there’s a long note written in slanted, cursive writing. 

Eddie,

You know I’m not much of a sap, but getting to watch you grow up, getting to raise you, it’s been the biggest blessing of my life. I miss your mom every single day, and I hate that what happened, happened, but the outcome isn’t something I’d ever trade. You’re one year away from thirty now, and I can’t find the words to tell you how proud I am of you. I’ve seen you go through so much shit in the past twenty years, things no one should ever have to witness or go through, but I’ve been amazed every time at how you’ve been able to handle it. I’m sorry I wasn’t more involved before you came to me, and I’m sorry I didn’t step in with Trent. I’ll never forgive myself for either. 

Anyway, I know you’ve been saying you need to get a new van. Lucinda ain’t running like she used to, and after seeing that death trap in action helping you move, I decided if I don’t do something about it, god knows when you will. When you’re available next, we’ll head down to Indy and find you something good, so long as it’s reliable. 

Love you kid, 

Wayne 

Blinking rapidly, Eddie looks up at his Uncle and swallows, eyes glassy. Clearing his throat, he gives a wobbly smile, receiving one back, then laughs a little. 

“Thanks Uncle Wayne…it..you don’t gotta do that, ya know?” 

“Oh trust me, I know. But you’re just as stubborn as your mother, and if something were to happen to you in that van, I’d never forgive myself.” 

Knowing there’s no point in arguing, Eddie simply nods, then straightens up a little. 

“I should be free next Friday, if you are.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

They say their goodbyes, share another hug, and then Eddie’s off to work, smiling to himself as he walks across the street then down a few stores to where Green Light Tattoo Parlor is nestled. Making his way in, arms crossed over his leather jacket to hold in heat, he nods at Carson and Louie as they wave, deep in conversation about some band that’s touring. It makes Eddie think of his own band, and how on the 6th of November they have a gig up in Indianapolis. Steve and Robin are coming too, both excited to see him play, and it makes him nervous but excited, knowing they’ll be cheering him on. 

The day is taken up by one client who’s getting the outlining of a full sleeve done. It takes seven hours, but the guy is able to sit through it well, and they only stop a few times, once for food, a couple of times for bathroom breaks and for Eddie to check his pump and blood glucose levels. By the time he’s finished, he’s got a solid amount done, a solid amount of money in his pocket, and he’s ready to go find his boyfriend and relax. 

Hoping he can convince Steve and Robin to watch Dracula, the artist packs his bag up, then says goodnight to Annaleigh, the only other one in the shop, who’s finishing up piercing a girl's septum. Robin opens the door when he knocks, despite having a key. He feels weird just barging in when the two friends are home, and uses it mostly to lock up when he’s alone in the mornings. 

“Just in time,” she smiles, which makes Eddie’s head cock to the side, reminiscent of a puppy. 

“Huh?” 

“Steve’s about to have a breakdown because he can’t find…something,” the freckle faced woman laughs, eyes rolling fondly. “You’ve not experienced a Steve freak out have you?” 

“Not that I can reca-” 

“It’s not here Robin! I told you! I knew it!” 

Both of them wince from the intensity and bitchiness in Steve’s sudden words. Eddie is almost amused, especially when Robin grumbles about how Steve does this all the time. He’s always known his boyfriend can be a bit of a worrier, but the bitchiness is new, and frankly, Eddie’s living for it. Following Robin into Steve’s room, he sees drawers in his desk and dresser are opened, and there’s stuff all over the man’s bed. 

“Uhhh…did a tornado go through here?” 

Steve, whose back is to the door, whips around, eyes wide, almost manic. His brow furrows and he puts a hand on his hip. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

His boyfriend’s tone isn’t rude persay, but it’s definitely surprised, which confuses the tattoo artist. 

“Uhh, you invited me over tonight right? Or…I mean, I can leave,” he jokes, turning dramatically to leave.

When Steve doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to stop him, Eddie freezes, then looks back. Robin looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. Frowning, the guitarist turns back around and stares at the younger man. 

“Steve, seriously, I can go if you need me to.” 

“It’s not…it’s not that I don’t want you here. But I’m trying to find something, and I’m already stressed, and…” he trails off. 

Wait. Does Eddie stress him out? He said ‘already stressed’ as if his own presence causes his boyfriend stress regularly. Trying to ignore the sting, trying to tell himself Steve’s just worked up, the musician nods, biting his lip. 

“It’s all good man, seriously. Everyone needs their space every once in a while. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” He walks closer to kiss Steve goodbye but at the last second merely presses a kiss to the younger man’s cheek. Leaving, he walks down the hall, Robin following.

“Edd-“ 

“It’s fine Robin, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He offers a tight smile and closes the door gently behind him, blowing out a breath. 

What the fuck? 

Making his way home, Eddie tries to think through all logical explanations, attempting not to read too much into anything. Of course the honeymoon phase can’t last forever, but damn if it doesn’t suck when it ends. He knows Steve’s probably just had a rough day and this just happens to be the tipping point, but it still stings. He ends up asleep on his couch, watching Dracula alone. It’s not a great night, but it could be worse. Before he falls asleep, he manages to send a text message. 

Night Stevie. Hope whatever was missing you found, and your night got better! ❤️ See you tomorrow. 

+++

“What the hell Steve?!” Robin’s voice is loud when she steps back into the bedroom, and the man feels about two inches tall. 

Steve knows he’s royally fucked up, knows he needs to apologize to Eddie and explain. Right now isn’t the time though, not with how frazzled he is. Work had been busy which already left him jittery, and then he’d wanted to wrap his boyfriend's present, only to forget its hiding spot. Way to go Harrington. Rubbing his face, he looks at Robin, who’s staring a hole into him, making him feel shittier by the second. 

“I…I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.” 

The woman scoffs and rolls her eyes in a way that reminds him of Nancy, when he was being unreasonable back years and years ago. Even now, Nancy Wheeler is a sore spot, even though they’ve talked everything through and are friends. It was his first true girlfriend, and he’d really loved her. The night of the Halloween party will always be one of his lowest as far as he’s concerned. 

“Well, it did, and now Eddie’s upset, and I would be too. It’s just a present Steve. You need to fix this.” Robin’s tone leaves no room for arguing. 

“I’m going to! Tonight I need to cool off, okay? It’ll all be fine. I just…really need to find the damn present, and sleep. Today has been a shit show.” 

His face must convey how he feels, wired and upset, because Robin walks over and puts a hand on his shoulder. The touch is grounding, and thank god for his best friend, because without her he’d be spiraling even more right now. 

“We’ll find the present, Dingus. Just take a few breaths and try to remember where your past self would put it, and why it would be there and not one of the first places you looked.”

Ten minutes later, Steve finds the box that’s holding the nice guitar pick necklace, ‘Type 1’ inscribed on the back, along with the new soft sweater and special edition Midsommar DVD he’d snagged a couple of weeks prior. 

It hits him now, really settles in, that he’s been a dick to Eddie, and he hopes he can fix it.

[ramen8baka]

✨Levi x reader ✨

“god, you’re so corny”

summary: y/n and Levi’s first date…

tw: none except for some cursing (other then that it’s innocent 😂)

Y/n and Levi had been crushing on each other for awhile. So when Levi finally asked her out (and she said yes) they were both ecstatic. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• “Levi, what the hell!” y/n laughed. Levi Ackerman and y/n l/n we’re walking around town like usual with two frappes. Levi had taken some whipped cream from his and put it on her nose. “there, you did say you wished you had more whipped cream” he smirked. “yeah but you know what I meant, dumbass. god, you’re so corny” “Oh am i the dumbass now? This is coming from the girl who took an IQ test and thought it was graded out of 100” y/n rolled her eyes.

“well, in my defense no one ever told me how those work!” “y/n… you got a 68” Levi said. the girl just stared down into her lap, defeated that for the 10th time that day she’d lost the argument.

“yea whatever” she grumbled. Just as Levi was about to respond his phone went off. “hello?” He said walking a few feet away.

when the call ended Levi hurriedly walked back over to y/n.

“sorry y/n I’ll talk to you later but there’s some stuff I need to work on. My boss just called me.” He smiled weakly. “oh, it’s ok! We do this almost every day after all” she scratches her neck. Which was true. It was their fault morning routine to get coffee or some type of drink together before they headed off to work. But the female couldn’t help but feel a bit upset due to her time being cut short with him. She’s be wrong if she said she didn’t have feelings for Levi. Ever sing middle school she developed a crush on him and it kind of her from there. Levi had the same situation going on. The funniest thing was, it was so obvious they like each other and everyone can tell except for- you guessed it- the people in love. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Levi rushed into his boss’s office since he had called him a few minutes earlier.

“hello sir, what did you need?” He asked politely. “‘Morning mr Ackerman. Due to a few people being absent for various reasons, we needed mrs romona to cover a document for me. Since she was originally going to do this but she can’t now, I’d like to pass it over to you.” His boss began explaining his assignment and he finished with

“if you do well on this emergency notice, I’ll give you a raise! There’s one catch, though”

“and that is…?” Levi askes

“it needs to be done by Friday.” Levi’s mouth dropped. It was Wednesday right now and this was a big matter! But he could use some more respect and a raise so…

about 3 weeks later you were sitting at her and Levi’s usual coffee shop. well I guess now it was just y/n’s. If she was being honest, she hadn’t seen Levi in weeks and she’d tried texting or calling him to catch up but he never answered. She was starting to think he was ghosting her. The girl was so deep in her thoughts she jumped a little when someone said

“looks like someone’s thinking hard” y/n looked up to see the one and only Levi Ackerman. she must’ve been thinking so hard that she wore a scowl. “Levi…”

“hey y/n” he gave a soft smile

“so-“ he cut her off “so whatcha drinking? The usual?” He smirked

“Are you serious? We haven’t seen each other in weeks and you don’t respond to any of my texts and calls! Then you just waltz in here like everything’s ok?!” The h/c girl yells. At this point everyone was looking at them. “Listen y/n I’m so sorry. My boss gave me the chance to earn a raise and I guess I got so caught up into it that I forgot about everything else. I’be just been such a workaholic lately” he explains. Levi takes her hands in his

“to make it up to you… do you maybe wanna go out?” He asks

“like a date?” Y/n questions

“yeah.. like a date”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• “you look beautiful” Levi compliments the female wearing a tight black dress with a jean jacket. “thanks, you don’t look bad yourself” she laughs. He takes her hand and leads her to his car. “so where are we going again?” “a little place I like to call you’ll see”

“god, you’re so corny”