#also that perfume bottle looks pretty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvjunie · 10 months

Note

heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment

— 2:00 AM

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3

Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.

He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.

He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.

It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.

He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.

He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.

He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.

He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.

“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.

You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.

”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.

“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.

You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.

“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.

”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.

“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.

“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.

You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.

“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.

“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.

“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.

“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”

He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”

His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.

“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.

Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.

“Miles?” you questioned gently.

Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles 42 x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fluff #miles g morales x reader

6K notes · View notes

eddiesghxst · 10 months

Note

no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.

you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)

it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.

but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)

anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶

BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.

also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie

18+ — MINORS DNI

word count: 1k

————

Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.

He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.

You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”

You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.

Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat.

He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).

He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.

Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.

You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”

You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.

“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”

You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer.

“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it.

He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.

And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.

It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3

3K notes · View notes

anathemaspeaks · 5 days

Text

come and get your love

character(s): gojo satoru synopsis: the one in which your best friend needs only one thing - you. or; the three times he's wanted you, and the one time he got you. word count: 4k warning(s): smut a/n: ALL DAY ALL NIGHT NO LUBE NO PROTECTION PLEASE requests are open (please request stuff😭) <3 likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated!

you and gojo satoru were neighbors.

that was how you met in the first place. you were walking home from college, your new dior perfume (which cost a kidney and a half) in one hand, and dinner in the other. you were walking across the corridor-

crash!

a 6"3 blur of white just ran past you, bumping into you and yelling a "sorry!" and muttering something about cursing someone. perfume bottle now in pieces and on the floor, you were pissed - but he was long gone. asshole.

that was the blur you came to know as satoru. while you were eating dinner, satoru had showed up at your door with a bottle of the exact same perfume - not smushed this time. well, maybe he wasn't so bad.

that was the beginning of your friendship.

you invited in the handsome man to thank him, and asked if he wanted to eat anything. he was about to refuse - until he saw the untouched chocolate cake lying in your kitchen. who could say no to that?

that was the first and last time he wasn't a constant pain in your ass. now, he was your self-declared best friend. it's been almost a year since you both first met, and you enjoyed his company a lot more than you'd ever admit. in more ways than one.

the first time:

in this year you'd also discovered something. well, watched it unfold, really. some smartass decided to give gojo satoru an ipad for his birthday. safe to say, he was addicted to it within a day.

he was an actual ipad kid. everytime he came over he'd have his ipad out, playing games or watching something. why he couldn't just use a normal phone or laptop like a normal person was beyond you.

and he never went anywhere without it. he took it to college, and even got it to your house whenever you guys hung out. well, he did just get an ipad, so you could sort of understand it. but still. weirdo.

you both were both going out to a club tonight with all of your friends. you'd finished doing your hair, and you were almost done with your makeup. you still had to wear your dress. you'd decided to go with a sleeveless blue corset dress that reached mid-thigh.

you were done pre-gaming, if you drank anymore you weren't going to get through the night. you were applying your lip liner when you heard a knock on the door. knowing exactly who it was, you went to open it.

the second you opened the door, you slammed it shut. he looked good - he was wearing a white shirt rolled up to his forearms, with the top two buttons undone, and black pants. but that wasn't the problem.

he was wearing a bright blue backpack. a fucking backpack. and you knew exactly what was in it. you had to mentally prepare yourself before you talked him out of it.

"satoru, either you leave the bag or you're not coming."

"but-"

"no, you can't carry an ipad with you to a club."

"okay okay, i'll..." he paused, his eyes moving lower, followed by silence.

"well?" you asked, breaking the pause.

"...that dress looks really good on you" he managed, voice a bit breathier than normal.

"what?" you asked, face now tinged red.

then, he suddenly moved closer and leaned down right next to your ear, his voice a husky murmur that made you shiver. "i said, that dress looks incredible on you," his eyes lingering a beat too long on your curves.

"though, i think it would look even better on my bedroom floor"

your breath hitched in your throat. was he finally making a bolder move on you, one that isn't a really cheesy pick-up line, or a failed attempt at flirting? fuck.

"i think you've pre-gamed a little too hard, satoru," you whispered, the heat in your cheeks betraying you.

he pouted at that, and you almost gave in. his pretty blue eyes wide with hope, and his pouty lips practically begging you to kiss the frown away.

"i'm not drunk!" he protested.

"i know, 'toru, but we've gotta go, come on." it was probably just him being delirious, but you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach.

but then, at the club, he didn't leave your side on the dance floor even once. he was so close you could feel his body heat, eyes locked in a silent, electrifying conversation. it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

as he dropped you off, with his voice an octave deeper, he said, "you should wear blue more often." then, he straightened up and went into his house like it was nothing.

collapsing onto the couch, you buried your face in a pillow, the scent of his cologne still lingering on your dress, infiltrating your senses. sleep wouldn't come. all you could see were his stormy blue eyes, filled with unspoken desire - one you tried denying you felt for him, until today.

a muted scream found its way out of your mouth, muffled by the pillow, a delicious mix of frustration and something far more needy. damn him and those strong shoulders that seemed to stretch on forever beneath his thin white shirt, the poor fabric straining against his biceps with every movement.

and his face? his lips, so full and slightly parted, a sinful invitation for you to kiss them, the moonlight casting a sinful glow on the way his jaw clenched with unspoken desire while walking back to the car. you swore he was a walking sculpture come to life, every line and angle sculpted by the gods themselves.

satoru knew he wanted you since the day he met you, your angry pout, yet somehow gentle eyes captivating him. but this was different. his hands on your waist all night, lips only a few inches away from each other, that fucking dress that took his breath away - it felt so intoxicating.

things were going to change between the both of you for the better, he hoped.

the second time:

it had been a week since that night, and now you both were attending suguru's 21st birthday party. you were all going to stay at an expensive hotel in vegas for the whole weekend. god, you loved being friends with rich people.

it was three people per room, and you were all to be assigned your rooms by the birthday boy himself. you read the text he sent. you were paired up with shoko... and satoru. you could already tell this was going to be a long weekend.

the roar of the plane engines on the way there served as a backdrop for the girls' chatter - you included. every few seconds your gaze would flicker to him, seemingly engrossed in his ipad. but his scorching glances that lingered a beat too long told you it was a blatant lie.

he was watching you. watching with an intensity that took your breath away and made your heart rate spike. every laugh shared with the girls, every whispered secret, you knew he was looking. at you.

when the plane finally touched down in vegas, the desert heat slapped you in the face. a wave of relief washed over you when you finally reached the hotel lobby. this place was huge.

as you finished unpacking and settling into the room, shoko decided she wanted to leave and explore the hotel.

"you coming?" she asked both of you.

"be right there!" you replied. you still needed to fix up your outfit and makeup. now the only ones in the room were you and satoru, who claimed he had to freshen up.

as you applied your mascara, you felt his hand right above the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely brushing your hips. but then suddenly, he straightened up, the moment ending all too soon.

"sorry!" he said, batting his long eyelashes at you and acting oh-so-innocent. oh, he had started dangerous game.

the rest of the afternoon was a blur. you all unpacked, shared stories and spent the entire day lounging around. as the sun set, you went to change your clothes into something more fitting for the casino.

you picked a short, black dress this time, neckline dipping just a little bit too low, knowing he'd be looking at you. the dress clung to you like a second skin. you were a sight to see in that outfit - it was even better than your last one.

you ended up at the bar, the air thick with the mingled scent of expensive liquor and something far more intoxicating. just then, a rather handsome man approached you, his voice smooth and deep. he asked you if you would like a drink.

you decided to have a little fun and play along, enjoying the blatant display of interest - but you were very aware of satoru's gaze piercing into you. his jaw was clenched tight, eyes narrowed a fraction. his stare was so intense it sent chills down your spine.

you took a sip of your drink, eyes meeting satoru's across the room. a slow smile spread across your lips, he definitely wouldn't back down now. not when you looked that divine. not when you had that scum talking to you.

you continued sipping your drink and listening to the man's attempt at smooth talking you. you decided you'd had enough for now, so you excused myself and headed towards the ground floor balcony. you didn't have to look back to know satoru was following you.

the cool desert air on the balcony offered a welcome respite. the real thrill came in the form of satoru, appearing beside you. he looked amazing, navy blue suit doing nothing to hide his body. you were positive he wasn't real.

"need some fresh air?" he asked, clearly trying to act nonchalant.

"oh, something like that" you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "maybe i just needed a moment to appreciate the view... besides the one inside, you know."

he grinned, tilting his head and leaning down so that he could look directly into your eyes from above his sunglasses, "don't think i haven't noticed what you're up to" he said, his voice a husky murmur.

a warmth flared through you, and a barely concealed smile of triumph found its way onto your face. mission accomplished.

"that dress is making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think of anything else but you. makes me wanna forget this whole damn night and just..." he trails off, gaze flickering to your lips, then back to your eyes.

fuck it, he won. you leaned in closer, the distance between your lips shrinking with every passing second. this was it. you were so close, your lips inches away from-

"there you two are. everyone's looking for you, let's go dance."

your softly sighed in frustration. satoru straightened up, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before they returned to his normal wide grin.

"didn't know you were looking for us! let's go," he replied.

you grabbed shoko's arm and went to the dance floor, thoughts of satoru and how he was so close you almost had his lips on yours on you on your mind as you tried to dance the night away.

the rest of the weekend unfolded in a blur of flashing lights and pounding music. you were in a group, inseparable yet frustratingly apart. every stolen touch, every lingering look, felt like a secret whispered in a crowded room. but in the end, the chance for a private conversation never materialized again.

the third time:

two weeks after the party, you all met up at shoko's house. you left to go upstairs and find the bathroom. when you came back down, everyone had started a water fight in the backyard. you left them alone for two minutes.

you walked out, only to get drenched from head to toe almost instantly. you were going to kill suguru for soaking your new gray shirt, which was now see through.

you spotted satoru amidst everyone, his stare locked onto your chest. you were wearing sky blue lingerie. it was a blatant stare - raw, and hungry. it gave you goosebumps. it wasn't planned, but god, you were glad it happened. you set a mental reminder to thank geto.

before you could do anything, his eyes shifted back up, meeting yours. a flicker of apology danced in his gaze, quickly overshadowed by something much deeper.

suddenly remembering where you are, you sneakily grabbed the nearest water balloon, a mischievous glint in your eyes. you aimed square at his torso. the balloon hit satoru's chest with a loud slap!

if your shirt was soaked, it was only fair that his was too, right? now he was completely wet. bull's eye.

he sputtered, the shock quickly giving way to a wide, mischievous grin. water dripped down his face, tracing a path along the sharp line of his jaw and disappearing down his neck to his abs.

oh. his abs. the sight alone drenched you in a place where the water balloon didn't. he shook himself off with a laugh, raising his hands in surrender and unintentionally flexing his biceps. oh wow.

this time, though, his eyes remained fixed on yours with an intensity that almost had you gasping for air. you both continued to drown each other, competing to see who caused the most damage.

as the sun started to set, you all started leaving. you and satoru said your goodbyes to shoko and started walking towards the car, talking about how fun the day was.

you stole a glance at satoru. his drenched t-shirt clung to his broad frame, outlining the way his muscles flexed with every step. your cheeks burned at the memory of his stare, the way his gaze had lingered on your tits, making your face heat up.

"think you'll survive the drive home like that? i did do some damage, you know," he teasingly asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"oh i will, don't you worry, princess," you replied. "just more proof that i completely demolished your snow white ass." he laughed at that, smile making him glow even more in the golden hour lighting. you both continued bantering until you reached the basement and he parked the car.

you were walking towards your apartment. you tilted your head up, a playful shine in your eyes. "so," you started, "what do you say we call a truce until next time? and then winner takes it all."

a slow smile spread across his face. he leaned in ever so slightly, his lips hovering a tantalizing distance from yours. the scent of his cologne, somehow still present, invaded your senses completely.

"truce it is" he conceded, "but winner gets any prize of their choice," he said with a slight smirk.

"oh? and how do you propose we decide this prize?" you asked, indulging him.

he chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "let's just say," he leaned in again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek again, "i have a few ideas in mind."

you slowly tilted your head upwards and batted your eyelashes, leaning into him before saying "mm, goodnight, 'toru." you let your gaze shift to his full lips before meeting his eyes.

but you pulled away before he could make a move. you relished in the look on his face - like a man starved, eyes filled with a desperate need. for you. you played off your own need for him with a teasing, innocent smile as you entered your apartment.

the fourth time:

satoru was a wreck. the usual carefree, playful glint in his eyes was replaced by sadness, his usual smile replaced by a deep pout. he was draped in a giant, fuzzy blanket, clutching a tub of ice cream like a lifeline. the culprit? a broken ipad.

how he managed to break it beyond repair was quite impressive, actually.

'good riddance,' you thought, thinking about his avid screen addiction.

but the sight of him trudging around your apartment like a kicked puppy, a half-eaten tub of ice cream clutched in one hand and a giant blanket draped over his broad shoulders - you almost felt bad.

you turned on the tv, hoping to distract him, but the suggestion was met with a watery glare and a choked sob. "it's not the same," he moaned, his voice thick with despair, "nothing can make me forget about my broken heart," he sighed.

what a drama queen.

you stifled a smile, the jab dying on your tongue. this wasn't like satoru. this was a whole new level of gloominess. it was kind of adorable, actually. he slumped onto the couch, sitting next to you, the oversized blanket engulfing him like a cocoon of misery.

hesitantly, you reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with a vulnerability you would never guess was caused by an ipad of all things.

"maybe you need a different kind of distraction," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

he turned towards you, gaze locking onto yours. you swore you saw a hint of something other than vulnerability - something that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. the air hung heavy with the weight of what you said.

neither of you moved, still maintaining eye contact.

"you sure about what you're asking for?" he asked softly, already leaning in towards you.

your gaze flickered from his perfect lips, full and inviting, to the hint of stubble darkening his jawline. every fiber of your being yearned to bridge the gap, to kiss him like you needed to.

"positive," you breathed, neediness evident in your tone.

the space between you vanished in a blink. he leaned in, breath warm against your lips as he filled up the space between you. one hand cupped your cheek, touch surprisingly gentle in contrast to the primal need in his eyes.

his lips met yours with a hunger that stole your breath away, the taste of him a delicious combination of cookie dough from the ice cream, and something else, something so... satoru.

his hand on your face deepened its hold, his thumb tracing a path down your jawline in a slow, deliberate caress. you mirrored the movement, fingers tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, desperate to feel the solid warmth of his body against yours.

the kiss deepened, a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. his hand moved lower, the thin fabric of your shirt allowing you to feel the searing heat of his palm on your back, his lips moving perfectly against yours

your breath hitched as his hand went under your shirt to grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. as much as you wanted to continue, the heat pooling in your lower stomach became harder and harder to ignore with every passing second.

you broke apart from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both.

"bedroom" you breathed, not wanting to spend another second without his lips on yours. you closed the gap between you both, desperate to taste him again. you felt both one arm hook under your thighs as he lifted you up, never once breaking the kiss, other hand remaining on your jaw, picking you up like it was nothing.

he pressed you up against every wall on the way to the room, lips practically devouring you. your nails dug into the muscles of his back, urging him closer, closer. you were definitely going to leave marks.

he chuckled in pride at the thought of that, a low rumble against your lips that made your skin tingle, before pulling back just enough to trail a searing kiss down your jawline. he nipped at your neck before biting it. hard. he continued until he was positive you would see them for the rest of the week.

you felt his cock growing under you. your breath hitched in excitement as his lips dipped lower, sending shivers dancing across the exposed skin of your shoulders. and finally, you reached your room.

you were a trembling mess, body aching in anticipation and need for him.

in the dim light of the moon filtering through the window, he looked like an angel - chest heaving, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes almost black with desire - all for you.

he placed you onto the bed, getting up to take off his shirt. you let your eyes wander, drinking in the sight of him. he was heavenly. toned muscles glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the heat, hair disheveled from you running your hands through it and tugging at it.

you sat up to take your shirt off, but he interjected. "let me," he whispered, "been waiting for this for so long, fuck."

he stared at you, fully naked underneath him. hair spread out on your pillow, lips still wet from his hungry kisses, eyes focused only on him. you looked divine, he was convinced this moment wasn't real.

he took off his shorts and boxers, and-

oh fuck. he was huge. and just as pretty as the rest of him. veins ran up and down the length of his throbbing cock, tip flushed pink - almost red, and leaking pre-cum. because of you.

you had to taste him. as you reached out, he stopped you. "i'd love that, but not today," he choked out, voice deep and filled with desperation, "if i'm not inside you within the next minute, i might actually lose my mind," he groaned.

the last of your resolve crumbling, "then fuck me, 'toru, please" you whined, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

he lined up with your entrance, pushing in just the tip. you felt stretched out already. "'s too big" you cried out. "aw, you can take it pretty girl," he cooed. he was barely inside but it just felt so good. you needed more.

you bucked your hips up a little bit, a silent plea. taking the message, he bottomed out in a single thrust, causing you to moan his name. "shit baby. keep saying my name like that and i'm not gonna last long" he grunted, pulling almost fully out of you.

your mind was consumed with only him. satoru, satoru, satoru - fuck, you couldn't get enough. he was practically splitting you in half with his cock, but you took it like a good girl. his good girl.

"fuck, you're takin' me so well. god, look at you, my perfect girl" you reveled in the praise, mind almost numb from how well he was fucking you, cock drilling into your dripping cunt like a man deprived.

"y'know how long i've waited for this? to have you all spread out f'me? oh, you're such a damn tease, doll. you knew exactly what you were doin', hah? wearin' that damn blue dress, and blue lingerie f'me too? what a slut."

his words sent a heat flooding through you - warm, plush walls clamping down on him, moans and whines ripping from your throat, so cock drunk all you could say was his name.

"mm, y-you weren't so innocent either, y'know" you bit back, whines escaping your throat.

"shit, wanted you since i first met you, baby. you drive me fuckin' insane" he choked out, voice getting raspier. he was a vision. muscles flexing so deliciously with every thrust of his hips, teeth biting on his lip as he moaned out your name, eyes looking only at you.

god, he really was perfect. he leaned down to kiss you again, a hand finding its way to your tits. he caressed it, playing with your nipple while fucking you. you were so painfully close.

his balls slapping against your ass, cock pushing into you with a force only he could possess. you loved the feeling of how right he felt inside you, the squelching sound of your pussy fluttering around him as he relentlessly thrust into you driving you both to the edge.

"s'toru i'm- 'm gonna- hngh" you clenched down on him impossibly tighter as you came. he came after a few more thrusts, release mixing with yours and seeping down onto your now very stained sheets.

he collapsed down next to you, an arm around your waist, pulling you to face him. it was such a stark contrast - two minutes ago he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, and now here he was, looking at you with a dopey smile on his face and a shine in his bright blue irises.

you couldn't help but grin back. you stayed like that until you caught your breaths, heartbeats slowly returning back to normal.

"so, since the day you first met me, huh?" you asked, a playful smile finding its way onto your face. you were met with a blush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. only satoru could go from the epitome of a sex god to a flustered mess within two minutes.

"mhm, been obsessed with you since i first saw that look on your face when i broke your expensive perfume. that was hot. but then, i got to know you better, and you were so sweet and funny and so goddamn pretty and i- i just couldn't help but... you know." he admitted, eyes averting from yours.

you gripped his jaw, making him look at you again. and then you kissed him - a soft, tender one, pouring in all of your emotions. you wanted him to know you reciprocated his emotions.

"good, because i felt the same way 'toru" you smiled against his lips.

"well what took you so long then?"

"what took me so long? what about you?"

"you're the one who liked me," he replied, as if it was oh-so-obvious.

"well you liked me first satoru!" you sassed, trying to turn away from him.

he pulled you back and made you face him again, grip on your waist never faltering.

"so, round two?"

bonus points if you can guess where the title's from ;)

the ipad kid part is kinda random but i totally think he'd be one soo

this took me so long to write, i hope you guys liked it!

#anathema writes #jujutsu kaisen #gojo jjk #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader

369 notes · View notes

ambiguouspuzuma · 10 months

Text

The single most important piece of writing advice I would give to a lot of amateur writers is to write less beautifully - or at least to write beautifully less.

I rarely find a piece of writing I can't read because it's too simple, or too concise and to-the-point - not memorable, perhaps, but also not a headache on a page. On the other hand, I see loads of pieces which are effectively unreadable because they're far too rich to swallow, and badly in need of watering down a bit.

The absolute worst culprit is the dialogue tags and stage directions. I'm a big fan of letting people write in their own style, but I would love it if a lot of writers could please cool it with letting me know every time a character blinks or licks their lips. I don't need to know that, especially if it happens every time they speak.

So many dialogue excerpts look like this:

"So this is how we talk?" he queried quietly, his eyebrows furrowed into knots. "Apparently," she replied with a puzzled grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restless energy. "Isn't that... exhausting?" he questioned, a lop-sided smile snaking its way across his lips. "The bouncing?" she asked shyly, her eyelids fluttering in shame. "No, of course not," he told her, his lean arms reached out to pull her closer. He buried his face into the mess of her hair, taking a deep breath of her perfume. "I just feel a little nauseated by all of these actions." "I don't know what you mean," she giggled, brushing the hair back out of her eyes as her cheeks flushed red. "Don't worry," he sighed, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling.

I'm assuming this is a convention that comes from somewhere, given its ubiquity - perhaps somewhere in the world of fanfiction, where there will be short, intimate pieces entirely focused on the ways in which characters interact with each other. But to me, in an original work, it's so exhausting that I can't make it down the rest of the page.

Dialogue may be the worst, or most obvious offender, but the same principle extends pretty much everywhere else. Each line doesn't have to be some great quote you can hang on your wall, and it's hard to read a whole story written like that.

There's been some recent backlash on here against modern films where every line of dialogue is a quip, at the expense of building an authentic conversation, but that's how a lot of people start out writing - thinking that each sentence should be made as flowery as possible, when too many flowers in the same pot will crowd each other out.

You need to leave some gaps to let the sunlight in, and illuminate the beauty of the occasional flourish you do include. Think of it like vanilla extract, to make a reference that was topical when I started writing this post: you need to add a little for flavour, without which the writing will be too dull, but tip the bottle and I will actually be sick. Write beautifully less. Learn to embrace the prosaic.

#on writing #writing advice #writeblr

1K notes · View notes

teddybeartoji · 2 months

Text

it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.

it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.

so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?

or is it the fingers in his hair?

he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.

you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.

he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.

his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.

as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.

a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.

he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.

even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.

your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.

his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.

he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.

he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.

and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.

you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.

he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?

no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.

it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.

he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.

turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—

a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.

seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.

his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.

his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.

you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.

don't stop.

+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right

405 notes · View notes

leiswxrld · 3 months

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

pairings: russian!abby anderson x fem!reader

synopsis: your russian girlfriend abby complains about her boss everyday to you after work but today she wants to take her stress out on someone and who not better than her own girlfriend.

warnings: smut, praises (sweetheart, my love, angel), strap on usage (r receiving), abby fucking the shit out of you.

a/n: I am not Russian so if they translations are wrong I do apologise tried not to use google translate but some websites like quora or Reddit for accurate translations, also this was recommended by someone idk if this is what they meant but I hope you enjoy ❥.

this isn’t proofread so please ignore errors.

@alicespurplesquid thanks for helping me on the cyrillic letters ❥

credits: @cafekitsune @hitobaby for line dividers ❥.

You're sat in the living room watching the Netflix series 'You', feet up on the couch, snuggled up in the new blanket abby brought you with a can of dr pepper, gummy worms and popcorn.

The noise of the front door opening catches your attention but your eyes remain on the screen, hearing the keys being thrown on the kitchen counter and heavy footsteps approach behind you.

"I missed you, принцесса" your instantly engulfed in her embrace, smelling her musky cologne oozing from her as you smile taking a second to take a look at her.

"How was work" you ask, abby opening her mouth to receive the gummy worm in your hand as you slip it into her mouth causing her to lick the excess sugar off your finger and you jokingly smack her hand at her silliness.

"Stressful my boss was up my ass about getting the new building ready for next week" abby was a construction worker and often complained to you on how much of a twat her boss was in her words, 'a fucking cunt"

"Baby I told you to complain to hr about it maybe they'd do something" you reply and she scoffs going to remove her jacket throwing it onto the other sofa before making her way to the fridge and grabbing a cold beer.

"and what so that my boss can fucking make my life even harder no thanks" she removes the bottle cap with her teeth going to plop her self next to you. "you smell good" she blurts out, pushing her head into the crack of your neck smelling the sweet birthday cake scent.

"thank you it's a new perfume I got" you reply, continuing to watch the show as abby began to assault you with kisses, "abs I can't concentrate if you keep kissing me like that"

"you just smell so fucking good, доро��ая" she groans, shuddering as she continues. "I think I know where to take my stress out on" she says, pulling away from your neck as your eyes widen.

"Abby no can't it wait" you whine, you were turned on but you wanted to finish this episode before you'd do anything remotely sexual with her.

"Baby, пожалуйста" you couldn't say no especially when she begged in russian to you. "Fuck-fine abs you have 10 minutes"

She grins at you, getting ready to pick you up before you give her the hand...making her pause for a sec confused as you grab the remote and pause the show before you tell her to continue.

You yelp as she picks you up straddling you on her lap, she immediately pulls you into a heated kiss, feeling her frustration as her hands roamed your back, sides and ass as you moan. tongues entangled and your arms around her neck, she grinds into you feeling her hard bulge prod against your joggers

Abbys pick you up, walking you towards the bedroom door lips still attached to you as she kicks open the door and throws you onto the bed. "strip for me"

You take no time in removing your clothes, slipping off your joggers and top leaving you in your bra and underwear. "so fucking pretty for me" she hungrily eyes you, lust prominent in her eyes as they move up and down your body, making you feel small under her gaze.

She keeps eye contact with you removing her work trousers and the yellow luminous vest, eyes leaving hers to her black boxers that tucked away her strap. "Lay down for me, Крошка"

You lay down as abby crawls on top of you removing your underwear as she curses under her breath, "fuck" your wet, pussy glistening under the light peaking through the closed blinds.

"Do you want my strap baby" you desperately nod, watching as she pulls down her black boxers revealing her strap which hits you against the fat of your thigh, you whine gripping onto her sports bra pulling her towards you as you plead in her ear to fuck you.

she smirks, hooking her arm under your thigh pushing it till it was against your ear. "yeah tell me how badly you want it"

"fuck-please abs just fuck me" her tongue rolls across her mouth in satisfaction, tapping her strap against your wet clit before slipping into you.

You gasp, hands wrapping around Abbys neck as she puts her face into the crook of your neck. she begins to rock her hips into you, every thrust harder than the last knocking the last bit of air out of your windpipe. she grunts, bitting onto your ear and pushing the cups to your bra down fondling with your exposed tits, twisting your hardened buds making you whimper.

Your mixed moans filled the bedroom, gasps and grunts getting louder as she pounds into you. "I can feel you clenching around my strap, зайка" she groans into you ear, taking a second to look at your flustered face, rambling curses and pretty moans.

"Are you gonna cum that fast for me, малыш" she breathlessly asks, hitting your pussy at an angle whilst holding your leg up. "n-no" you squeak, gripping onto the white sheets below you.

"better fucking not you'll cum when I tell you to" she grunts, taking her time to watch how your eyes roll back unable to respond. she chuckles, pushing the falling hair outta your face to truly see how fucking beautiful you were, legs wrapped around her back as your nails dug into her back.

your hand goes to cover your face as abby slaps it, pinning your arms to your sides, "don't hide your face angel I wanna see how pretty you are when you cum for me" her words make you pulse around her, signalling you were going to cum at the speed she was fucking into you.

"a-abs please I'm going to cum" you warn, her hand reaches up to your face slapping it, "hmmm, you going to cum for me milaya, you can beg me better than that" she coos.

"Пожалуйста" you beg, tears in your eyes which pushes abby over the edge, pounding into you harder before you cum all over her strap, your juices seeping onto the white sheets below before she slows down, coming to a halt.

"fuck I think that was the best sex we've ever had" abby mutters, kissing you on the cheek before pulling out. she leaves you laying on the bed, taking her strap off seeing the visible wet spot on her black boxers as she makes her way into the bathroom.

She brings back a wet cloth, cleaning you up and whispering praises into you ear as you steady your breathing. she throws the wet cloth back into the bathroom before jumping onto the bed beside you.

"Do you want to order takeout don't think you'll be in any state to move and cook now" she offers, a smirk on her face as you finally catch onto what she meant.

You slap her on her arm, sending her a dirty look causing her to laugh, "Fuck off abby, you can order takeout but only because I'm in no mood to cook right now"

she laughs again before cuddling you, "yeah sure let me order something from your favourite food place and then after I can fuck you till you fall asleep....how does that sound, принцесса"

you roll your eyes playfully kissing her once again, "sounds fucking perfect abby"

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #lesbian smut #lesbian #abby x reader #abby tlou2 #black reader #tlou2 #smut #leiswxrld #leiscoven

439 notes · View notes

hitomisuzuya · 10 months

Text

Scummy Scara. Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Scara being perverted and watching. Slight Somnophilia at the end.

a/n: I meant to write this earlier, but I fell asleep before I could last night 😭

Give this boy credit, Scaramouche had put a lot of thought into picking out the perfect tree to hang out in and watch you do your nightly routine. Or your afternoon routine. Or your morning routine. He likes to watch you whenever he could, feeling his time would be better spent drinking in the sight of you looking in your bedroom window.

He could remember exactly how his obsession for you started to hatch.

You had this particular talent of being able to read, and understand Shakespeare fluently. You had no problem explaining what he'd been trying to say in whatever sonnet or play the class was reading. He thought it was cute, no, captivating.

But also disgustingly considerate. You shouldn't have to be bothered with that kind of thing. That's what the Internet was for. And fuck Shakespeare! Any kind of poetry he could write for you would be better than anything Shakespeare could come up in the entirety of his catalog.

Scaramouche was totally guilty of paying other students to ask you to recite and explain certain sonnets just to hear you speak. Thinking about hearing you read Shakespeare to him while he ate you out made his cock hard.

He swore he would cum untouched while he listened to you struggle to keep your composure while you squirted all over his tongue.

He couldn't believe when he got the show of his life one night. His eyes hypnotized, completely captivated watching your fingers move in and out of you, desperately trying to reach your sweet spot for release. You poor thing, your fingers were so small. He doubted you could reach it properly.

It was almost painful to watch you rubbing your clit to usher in your orgasm. He could give you the release you were craving. His cocked throbbed when he thought about pushing his fingers into your mouth, making you choke on them while you tasted yourself.

He almost completely lost it, itching to stroke and palm his cock when you started bucking your hips into your fingers, rubbing your clit at the same time. He craved to hear the squelching noises your fingers were making.

Oh, how Scaramouche wished your bedroom window was open so he could hear all those pretty, broken moans pour from your mouth.

It was then that he could an idea.

He would just install cameras in your room. That way, he could record watching you play with yourself. If he put his headphones on, and jacked himself off, it seemed like you were moaning just for him while cum spurted onto his hand.

Scaramouche always snuck into your room whenever he could. He only meant to take a few things at first, a bottle of your perfume, some little pieces of jewelry that he thought you wouldn't notice missing.

That flew out the window though when he opened the drawer with your panties in it. He knew he should he should only allow himself to take one or two, but would you mind if he stole three or four?

Maybe he would return a pair to your drawer stained and sticky with his cum, a tribute of things you did to him and made him feel.

Scaramouche never felt guilty about not being able to keep his hands off of you while you slept, wiping his mouth just in time before drool could hit your perfect, unmarked skin.

Maybe just one bite. After all, you were sleeping so deeply.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #scummy scara #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #yandere scaramouche

2K notes · View notes

predestinatos · 4 months

Text

'tis the season, i guess — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: cold winter days bring unexpected company to your bookshop. or in which your ex needs help choosing a book for his girlfriend.

words: 3.5k

tags: angst, SO much angst, dark academia vibes for some reason?, genuinely heartbreaking. some fluff but not much!

note: this was based off of this request but i got a bit carried away and wrote a whole thing! also am now obsessed with listening to sabrina carpenter... i hope everyone likes this even though it is very painful, but lmk your thoughts pls!!

The bookshop was basically empty, all the noise you could hear being yourself trying to rearrange the books in alphabetical order, and soft music playing in the background.

you stood on your tiptoes in order to reach a book at the top of the shelf, knowing a bench was available but being too lazy to go get it. Wuthering Heights refused to reach your fingertips despite your efforts and soft curses to yourself a bit louder than usual due to the emptiness of the shop.

"Need help?" a male voice called from behind, causing you to roll your eyes. Here we go, you thought to yourself, another man who catches you alone in the shop and tried to hit on you, and you'll have to find him funny and play delighted to be in his presence despite how bothersome he is, despite the ring on his finger.

"No, I'm okay, really-" you started replying, putting on your best customer service smile, fixing your hair as you turned around to face the stranger. but the person who you faced wasn't a stranger in the slightest.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he said as he reached behind you for Wuthering Heights, taking him zero effort to do so, increasing your frustration and disbelief.

those brief moments of closeness brought to you a thousand heart clenching memories, time standing still as his scent hit you softly.

"Try this one" you tried to stop giggling as you held the dark brown bottle in your hands and asked for his wrist.

"Tobacco Vanille? I don't want to smell like cigarettes!!" he joked, although he let you spray his wrist gently, so happy just for the sole fact that you were happy.

Your smiles reached your eyes as they met for brief seconds, waiting for the smell to hit his skin. Reactions weren't needed as your expressions turned from smiling to shocked, mouths widening at the scent that seemed to fill you both.

"It's AMAZING!" you half screamed excitedly as he smelled his wrist in confirmation. "Charlie, it smells so good I could eat you right now!"

He laughed at the nickname, at how pretty you looked, at how simple it all was. He kept laughing with the perfume in a perfectly wrapped package in his hand, the other holding yours.

"Uhm, hi" you said, as his big familiar hands stretched out to hand you the book, which you hugged tightly to your chest in an attempt to hide or disappear in it, you weren't sure "Thanks."

"No problem" he replied politely, almost annoyingly so, the tiptoeing already starting before more than a few words could be uttered, his hands in his pockets as he looked everywhere but you.

It was uncomfortable - the silence, the stillness, how both of you stood there like ghosts, waiting for some direction, something to do, something to happen. "So uhm... what brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm a wedding crasher" the stranger next to you replied, black tuxedo slightly touching your arm, a drink in his hand and shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Really?" your eyebrows raised as you took in what he said and his appearance – the nose, especially the nose.

He laughed slightly, taking a sip of his drink and looking back at you "no, I'm friends with the bride," his finger pointed in the direction of the beautiful woman dressed in white, but all you could see was how big his hands were, adorned with rings. "And you?"

"I am an actual wedding crasher" you replied, cheeky smile adorning your lips despite the shyness you felt as your eyes locked with his. It was his time to raise his eyebrows and your turn to take a sip of beer as he repeated what you had asked seconds before. "Really?"

"No, I'm friends with the groom" you replied winking, enjoying the stranger's company and humor, his smile causing small dimples to appear in his cheeks as he looked down at his lap.

"You got me," his hand suddenly stretched towards you, palm open and inviting, "I'm Charles."

He kept shrugging and avoiding your eyes, despite the fact that he had willingly chosen to go to the place where you worked. It was making you impatient and angry, those emotions replacing the initial shock and sadness.

"I need your help choosing a book," his voice sounded weak and embarassed, shame coming through every vowel. You stood still, waiting for him to continue, wishing he'd speak faster, explain himself already or just leave and forget he even came. "For my girlfriend"

Those words twisted inside you like a sharpened knife that knew the cut would merely hurt, not kill. Despite that, you knew better, you refused to let him notice any sort of hint of how that information affected you. "Oh wow," was all you could say at first, turning around to keep placing books in shelves, distracting at least your body since your mind was restless "birthday?"

"Uh? Oh no, 6-month anniversary" he muttered, almost inaudibly. You were too aware suddenly of how your clothes felt on you, how ironic red was in the necklace you were wearing as you placed Anne Boleyn's biography in its correct place, tight between the other books. You refused to look to him now, nodding intensively so he would understand that you had heard what he said, your skin prickling as you struggled to move. Calculations ran through your mind, trying to place those 6 months in the timeline of both of your lives as he moved awkwardly behind you.

"It's funny actually, she really loves reading, I guess I do have a typ-" he began, trying to lighten the mood, but each word he said felt like another grain of salt being thrown at the open wound that was your heart.

“What does she like to read?” you interrupted him, purposefully so, knowing how clear your intention to move from the subject was.

“I read a bit of everything, but I love the classics,” you said as the cappuccinos arrived and sat prettily in the café’s table. You stared at Charles as he stared at you; his entire expression seemed to give you undivided attention, registering every word and movement of yours. He smiled at all the correct times, nodded at your statements and frowned at certain parts of your narrative almost as if he had been custom made for you.

“What’s your favorite book?” he continued, sipping his drink, some foam remaining on his top lip, a feature you smiled softly at, bravely leaning over with a napkin and cleaning it. “Thank you” he said as he noticed your blushing expression, his way of both reassuring you and brushing it off as something mundane, and you bit your lip, holding back a bigger smile than necessary.

“This is such a cliché,” you started, rolling your eyes at your answer, trying your best not to say it. “Go on” his hand suddenly stretched towards yours, resting on top of it gently, like a sheet perfectly fitted for a bed. Your body burned with the touch, what is symbolized, what it promised silently in that small café.

“It’s Catcher in the Rye,” you both burst out laughing.

“She loves Fitzgerald,” his hands touched random books, looking for something to do, fixing them, opening some of them and putting them back in place, reading the backs of them as if he was paying attention to anything they said.

“Good taste,” you tried the compliment route. You didn’t want to sound bitter, and you weren’t bitter. It was just a lot to take in so fast, his presence as painful as his words, the way both made you feel so small for such a big place, so big for such a tight room.

“That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool,” you quoted the author as you contemplated the choices available for a lover of Fitzgerald. Work could fill your mind. Pretending it was just one more client made it easier. “Any other author or book? Help me out, Charli- Charles” you cut yourself off before the nickname could come out, hoping he wouldn’t notice, knowing that he did. You felt his entire body tense behind you as yours did, making it seem like a picture frozen in time in place, The Star-Crossed Lovers.

Charles seemed so silent that you unconsciously felt yourself turning back to check if he was still there, if he hadn’t been a fragment of your imagination after all. He stood in place, for a moment his eyes looked at you as if they hadn’t seen you in his entire life, examined you as if you were as unknown as letters in a freshly printed page. That soon faded as he snapped back to reality, registering the question with incredible delay. “Faulkner. She also likes Faulkner.”

“Aaaand Faulkner is done” you brushed some of the dust off of your hands as you stood up, looking at the now organized Classics section. “At least for the next week! Thank you for staying with me, by the way,” you said to the phone, as its screen indicated that you had been on a call for 2:45:17 hours.

“No problem,” Charles smiled. You knew he did although you didn’t see him, and that sheer though made you smile as well. “Can you do me a favour though?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement, a puppy-like tone that you cherished “open the door, I’m freezing.”

At first you were confused at his request, and you were close to questioning it until it hit you. You didn’t believe it. There could be no way he was- you rushed to the bookshop’s door, opening it while still holding your phone. Heart racing, you opened the door and saw Charles’ frame standing there, the lights illuminating his red cheeks and nose from the cold, one hand awkwardly holding the cellphone, the other trying to balance two warm drinks. He was wearing a beanie that made him look younger, softer, a puffer jacket that seemed to hug him perfectly- “Is there a code or something?” he jokingly asked, his breath visible due to the cold air outside, and you realized you had been staring for too long. You stood aside, turning the phone off as he placed the cups on the counter and removed his extra clothes.

“You didn’t have to,” you started. “I wanted to.” “You’re so sweet I could kiss you right now.” “Do it, then.”

You started browsing through the spines of the books in the shelves in front of you, looking for answers to more than one question, relying on pulling you sleeves down to your hands to mask your nervousness.

“How have you been, though?” his voice made you jump a bit, pulling you back to reality as you pulled 2 books and held them against your chest with one hand, trying to keep them from falling by lifting a leg – an awkward stance, you were sure. “Great, actually” you replied, unconvincingly so.

Things were hard after what happened with Charles, and you had taken many different routes to get over it all at first – waking up hungover in strangers’ beds, not leaving the house, breaking hearts for fun, letting people use you for fun, meaningless moment after meaningless moment, where the highlight would be hearing a voice that sounded even slightly similar to his. They got slightly better, of course, a year had passed, you could function, yet it hadn’t scarred yet – it wasn’t even close. The wound was open and bleeding and hideous and his presence, his voice, his smell, his request, it all just made the blood spill harder.

“Really?” “Hmhm,” a nod. A cough from behind you, making you turn around. His face was stern, serious. Charles was considering if coming was a good idea, what even drove him to do it in the first place. There were so many bookshops, so many other gifts he could give, yet he felt like showing up, like seeing you, at least once. Now he was there and he felt peculiar. Something close to guilt crawled on his chest, but he wasn’t sure what he was feeling guilty of, which in turn intensified his guilt.

You reached for a third book, and as you did so, the ones you were holding fell once again on the old wooden floorboards. “Shit” you muttered, crouching to grab them as Charles did the same, you two being so familiarly close, the irony of the cliché overwhelming the both of you. Getting up, Charles felt the need to offer his hand for you to hold, a support you refused to take and acknowledge, pretending you didn’t see it when it reality it seemed to be screaming at you loudly and intensely.

“So here are my recommendations, I guess” you sighed, letting him assume it was due to tiredness, knowing that he wouldn’t. Placing the 3 books on the nearest table, they faced the both of you as you stood next to each other, his arm brushing against yours, eyebrows furrowed as he examined their covers and details carefully.

Mrs. Dalloway, Age of Innocence, and One Hundred Years of Solitude sat perfectly, yet stared at the both of you defiantly, knowing their words could cut through both of your souls if they pleased.

“Don’t let yourself die without knowing the wonder of fucking with love” Charles read aloud, laying in your bed next to you, your head resting gently on his chest as you felt him laugh softly, lying naked in . “You’re right, I think I like this author.”

You laughed alongside him, both unaware of the fact that you were laughing for different reasons.

Charles’ eyes glanced quickly towards you, the same memory haunting your minds as if you were locked in a cinema of nostalgia. Shyly, his hand reached towards the hardback edition of Age of Innocence, its soft colors drawing him attention when the other options were either too painful to grab or not as tempting for his eyes.

You leaned against the polished table, looking at the way he touched the pages tenderly, fingers brushing them with a softness that reminded you of times that had gone by yet seemed to close and so recent.

His features seemed so focused, eyes moving slowly across each sentence, eyelashes prettily adorning them, his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed dryly. He almost seemed unreal, a mirage of a stranger who was once so familiar to you, breaking the spell when he chuckled softly. “What?” you asked, whispering, too afraid that a sudden movement might make him disappear entirely. The normalcy of the moment was as terrifying as it was comforting, a moment in which it seemed like you two were the same again. “Nothing it’s just, one of the sentences I stumbled upon…”

“Which one?” you rested your chin in your hand while looking up at him, forgetting the previous moments, the previous year, every previous instance in its entirety as he looked back down at you and bit his lip nervously.

“I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that -categories like that- won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter.” the room went cold and silent as the night.

“I can’t give you a relationship” he stood in his own kitchen like a foreigner, a man you almost did not recognize. “Why not?” “Because I don’t do relationships and I don’t like labels and I don’t want to hurt you by convincing you that I can.”

Your ears rung as you fought back tears. You wouldn’t cry. You were too proud for that, to show him this mattered way more to you than to him. “If you don’t want to hurt me then try, Charles.”

He shrugged, arms opened in defeat and eyes looking at the window, the snow falling down outside, locking you both in this confrontation. “I can’t.” Frustration invaded your bones and skin as you asked why once again, though your voice was tired and broken.

“It’s not because of you, I just- Can’t I just love you?” “That’s what I’m asking you to do by staying,” you reply cut like ice, and as he moved closer to you and held your face in his hands, you knew you had lost. “I can’t. Because I can’t do relationships.”

“But you will” you pushed him away as you left, knowing you were leaving your toothbrush, spare underwear, and heart there.

He interrupted the stillness before you did, clearing his throat and his mind, failing to relieve you of the pain of the past. “I’ll take this one” he said, now too polite, too frigid to go back.

You held the book and moved towards the counter, aware of his footsteps behind you, following you. You knew he was doing it because he had to pay, because he was a customer, because that’s what you’re supposed to do – yet part of you wanted it to be for a different reason, wanted his hand to suddenly reach for your wrist and tell you it was all a lie, a big prank, he was sorry and he took it all back.

You wanted him to say something daring enough for you to explode at him, to scream everything you’ve been holding inside for a year, to go back to that kitchen and its dimmed lights. To dare yourself to ask how dare he come into your workplace and throw everything at you, all politeness and fragrance and small talk, like it was nothing when you felt everything.

Instead, you wrapped the present nicely, placing a bright ribbon at the top while he fidgeted with his wallet from the other side of the counter. It was almost done, this exchange, and you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You were tired. So tired.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, facing him fully, staring at his green eyes that tried their best to hold your gaze. “Seriously, Charles, why did you come here?”

At first, he stayed silent. You refused to break the silence this time, even if he left without an answer you knew you had asked it, you did not save it for late nights lying awake. “I know you think I didn’t love you, but I do” he said.

It didn’t seem like a reply to your question, it seemed like a statement he was waiting to get out since the moment he walked in, the phrasing odd with its verbs being intentionally used in different tenses that didn’t seem to matter, at least not anymore. All you could do was laugh in disbelief, anger, or hurt, or a mix of both spreading throughout your body.

“You were- are- very important to me. You helped me realize a lot of things and if I could, I would go back in time in a heartbeat. But I can’t” he grabbed the present, hinting at the fact that he was going to leave, yet it didn’t seem fair to you. This wasn’t an apology, and was nowhere close to it, your hands trembling were a proof of such.

“You never can” you raised your chin, pride fighting against hurt as tears threatened to roll down your cheeks, jaw tense and firm, “not when it comes to me.” And there it was. What you both knew was true, said aloud like a forbidden fruit that was now bit into.

“It’s more complicated than that. And it’s alright for you to hate me, but I genuinely do love you. I care about you and think about you more than I should-“

“Do you love her?” it was a stupid question, and you knew that. You knew whatever answer he gave you would be a slap in the face, unsatisfying and painful either way. You hated yourself for the slight jealousy you felt towards a woman you barely knew, who wasn’t at fault at all, whose only problem was being too lovable.

“I do. I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you” “Oh wow. Thanks for that one” you crossed your arms across your chest, making yourself smaller, trying to hide while looking at the clock – 15 minutes left until the shop closes. 15 minutes left of the last time you’ll ever see him.

“Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?” he wanted to reach for you and hold you, a moment of involuntary movement almost drove him to do something he couldn’t possibly do, not anymore, at least. You looked at his sudden jerk of movement, how he stopped as if his muscles burned and prevented him from acting upon his instincts. It was the best answer he could’ve given you.

“I’m selfish. I want to look at a bookshelf and know a piece of you is there. I know I’ll never fucking see you again, and I’ll leave you alone, but God I need something to remind myself that you’re real” he said, eyes closing in shame or frustration, you couldn’t say.

“You took a part of me with you that night. And I’ll never get it back. And you walked in today and took a bit more. More than that book. And every time I think of you, you take another piece. So when you look at that book, think of your girlfriend. I am real. But what we had wasn’t. Not anymore.”

You started closing the register, ignoring his presence, hoping he’d go away. The only reason you noticed him leaving was the small bell that rang as he opened and closed the door, and you finally succumbed and let the tears run free.

573 notes · View notes

selfishdoll · 5 months

Text

LITTLE MISS PERFECT FT. EREN YEAGER ୨୧ ｡ ⟡

⠀ ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 it was just your luck that a coworker you simply couldn’t stand figured out your side gig as a bottle girl.

❛author’s note...❜ ━━ i’ve never written for eren before so don’t clown me yall— also i know little about bottle girls so also don’t clown me, i just like the way they look.

You were delicate and careful, assuring the oddly shaped makeup tool was setting the makeup perfectly. You couldn’t afford to mess up or restart your routine— you were already three minutes behind schedule.

“Damn you Yeager..” You mumbled to yourself, glossed and lined lips pulled into a subtle frown. Why exactly were you forced to work with him? With that.. absolutely annoying man child? His temper was too much for you at times, and the way he just loved questioning just about everything— God, some days you believed your supervisor purposely set you two to work together.

So it was no surprise you two got into an usual spout; for what, you can’t even remember. You simply remember your gaze fixated on his — dare you say — handsome features, absolute venom escaping your plump lips. Words faltering every single time you saw his own jade colored gaze fall to your lips.

You could not stand Eren Yeager no matter how much he made you weak at the knees.

You tossed the tool to the side, rising from your vanity whilst grabbing the bottle of setting spray. Closing your eyes, you quickly sprayed your beat face, assuring to get every inch. Having it run in the middle of your shift was something you wanted to avoid.

You slammed the bottle down once you were done, stepping back and glancing at yourself in the mirror. French white nails carefully plucked the curls of your burgundy colored lace, nodding at the way they fell so pleasantly around your features. The second thing to critique was your outfit; a mesh sleeveless romper that had several splits between your cleavage and was just dark enough it covered your bottom half. Your eyes traced yourself for a split moment, finally nodded once satisfied.

Grabbing your bag, phone, and keys— you rushed out of your apartment after locking the door.

You reached the night club you work at about ten minutes late, your close friend luckily getting most things ready before your arrival. Once arriving you cleaned up your sections, assuring the tables were spotless and booths were in proper order. Finishing that task you moved towards the locker room to touch up yourself, spritzing your body with a sweet perfume whilst your friend separated your curls.

“You and that Eren guy should just fuck and get it over with.”

You scoffed at her words, placing your perfume away; going for your lipgloss next. “I’d rather chew on glass.” You murmured softly, gliding the stick substance across your two-toned lips. Fuck Eren? He was easy on the eyes, sure— but not easy anywhere else. As said before, you couldn’t stand him. And you highly doubt you would stand him enough to sleep with him.

You heard your friend sigh, releasing your hair to walk around and face you. “I don’t know.. it just sounds like unresolved tension or something— ya know?” Her lips curled at the deadpanned expression that crossed your features, gaze watching you hurriedly place your things away.

“C‘mon our sections may be filling up.”

“Don’t ignore me, [Name]!”

The night continued as pure usual, you lifting large bottles of alcohol ranging from Hennessy to Pink Whitney and much more; over to your booths, flashing forced smiles and moving your hips to the beat of the music. The multicolored lights reflected off your sun-kissed highlighting each feature you had.

At certain tables a customer would get up and dance with you and the other girls; causing your smile to worsen but otherwise continue the service with no issues.

That was how your shift as a bottle girl was supposed to go. No issues, just simple adult fun.

Until you reached a certain table.

You walked over as pure usual, pearly whites on display account of the glossed smile stretching your features. Sauntering over with a notepad, you gave your usual winning pitch; attempting to persuade the customers to buy the most expensive alcohol to assure the best experience — usual customer service nonsense.

Except as your eyes cased the table surrounded by men, your gaze settled upon a certain one. One whose own gaze was fixated onto you. A rather, familiar gaze.

“Ma’am?”

You cleared your throat, eyes blinking over to a man with light ash-brown hair. “Ye—yes, have you decided what you wanted to order?” You questioned, smile becoming even more forceful the moment you noticed a smirk from your peripherals. You barely registered the order that escaped his lips, scribbling upon your notepad quickly whilst the other men chimed in with their own requests.

“Okay, I’ll be right back!” You spoke, spinning on your heels and basically rushing towards the bar. You stood behind it, eyes tracing the many bottles lining the case. It took a moment to find what you were looking for, stepping back a bit before a small ah fell from your lips, approaching a case. You pulled the large bottle of Gin from its rightful place, turning and jumping the minute your focused gaze landed on someone else’s.

“Hey [Name]..” Was the cool words that escaped Eren fucking Yeager, lips curled into the most subtle grin. You took in a deep breath, placing the bottle down and turning to search for another.

“Sir, the whole point of a bottle girl service is I bring the drinks to you. You have no need to approach the bar.”

“There’s no rules stating I can’t though, right?”

You gritted your teeth a bit, noticing the clear amusement circling his tone. Grabbing a bottle of cream liquor you turned once again, placing it down with a little more force. “Eren, would you fuck off? Save your taunting for another time, i’m trying to work!”

The man tilted his head, strays from his messy bun intruding on his face. “I didn’t come over here to taunt, [Name]. I was just..” He trailed off for a moment, lips curling into an even more prominent grin. “Surprised little miss perfect had a job such as this. Didn’t seem like your style.”

You rolled your eyes a little, grabbing a few shot glasses and placing them on a tray. “Well, everyone has their side hustles..” You murmured softly, beginning to pour a few shots— grumbling the moment ring covered fingers lifted one. You settled the bottle down once you were finished, eyes focusing back to the man infront of you. “You gonna blab to the whole office you saw me working here?”

You weren’t ashamed to be a bottle girl, if anyone asked you were more than happy to share. However, that didn’t excuse the fact you enjoyed keeping your private life.. well, private. You could just imagine the annoyance it would be with such information circling your “normal” workplace.

“No.” Eren began slowly, lifting the glass to his lips and taking the shot. His tongue glided across his bottom lip after pulling the glass away, placing it back down on the tray. “I’d much rather keep you all to myself.” His eyes flicked between your eyes and lips, enjoying the perplexed expression that crossed your face.

Eren rose away from the bar with a soft hum shortly after. “See you at the table..” He dragged giving you one last look before stalking off towards his section.

Leaving you the perfect mixture of confused and heated.

The rest of the night continued without a hitch. Except his eyes followed your every move. From you walking over with the shots, hips rocking along to the harsh beats of the music blasting — to you dancing beside the other bottle girls.

You tried to ignore it all, tried to focus on anything but him. But, you found your eyes trailing over to his own constantly— spotting his pretty lips lift into a smile.

Suffice to say, you were a little distracted for the remainder of the night.

And several others down the line.

Your schedule was so you worked Friday-Sunday, taking up a shift once in a while as a favor. Either the man had guessed your schedule or he asked because every other Saturday Eren and his friends were seated at your section; his eyes never leaving your form the entire time.

The second time he came in you remarked it as a coincidence, but the fourth? Yeah, you were sure the man was messing with you. Especially since he acted so normal at work; still as combative, and still as annoying.

It was boggling, you constantly questioning Eren’s motives. It’s not like he ever got extremely drunk; settling for a shot or two. Was he really just here to watch you? To antagonize you? To approach the bar each time you walked off just to speak or compliment what you were wearing?

You sighed heavily the moment familiar footsteps followed you back to the bar, walking around the counter; thankful it placed distance between you and the man. “You’re starting to act like a stalker, Yeager.” You mumbled, grabbing a bottle of Hennessy. You heard the barstool squeak the moment he sat on it, turning to spot his ringer covered fingers tapping against the sleek marble.

“Gonna have the bouncer throw me out?” He questioned, green gaze looking at you through pretty lashes. The moment you turned away silently Eren was smiling, tongue gliding across his lips. “Guess not..”

You tried to ignore him, you really did; attempting to focus on your shaky hands pouring the usual seven glasses resting your tray— not even batting an eye when he grabbed one without asking.

“You look nice tonight..” Eren spoke lowly, eyes not so shamelessly tracing over the black attire you wore; a black leather skirt, with a mesh halter top, a silver necklace hanging accompanying the outfit.

You rolled your eyes a little, reaching for another bottle. “You say that every single time you see me.”

“And I mean it— every single time.” He countered, placing the now empty glass down.

You could only blink at the man for a moment, completely forgetting the drinks as a heat covered your entire body. Your eyes fell to the bar, lip caught between your teeth as the softest stammer escaped you; “Why do you keep coming here? To compliment and watch me? You don’t even get drunk like your friends do.”

The words settled in the air for a while, Eren silent— his eyes focused completely on you; an intense stare you avoided. Moments passed before the man spoke again;

“I’d much rather show you, why I keep coming here.”

His lips were hot against your own, body flush against you whilst pushing your back into the cool bathroom wall. Eren’s large hands remained on your waist, pulling you into him each time you attempted to back away. Why exactly? Because he was so overwhelming. His taste, tongue, smell— all of it muddling your brain far too quickly, rendering you into putty he could so easily play with.

You were finally able to pull back from the kiss, when he needed air, pants flowing from your lips; lipgloss a mess with your mixed salvia tainting your mouth. The hands on Eren’s shoulders gripped the cream colored longsleeve he wore the moment his lips pressed against your neck, breath quickening as he sucked a kiss into your skin.

The events leading up to now were a complete blur, Eren uttering such words and suddenly leading you into the woman’s bathroom; locking the door the second the two of you entered. After that well.. you found yourself against the wall by the sink, Eren’s hands situated on your form to assure you didn’t move an inch away.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to.

It seemed he got bored of your neck quickly, rising back up to steal your lips in another kiss. You moaned against his mouth the moment his fingers gripped your waist, switching you around to place you onto the counter. Your legs naturally opened, Eren taking this moment to step between them, smoothing his hand down to your exposed skin.

You pulled back, hands rising to his hair quickly to tug the moment he tried to go for another kiss. “Let me breathe, Eren— fuck..” You gasped out, watching a smirk pull his lips which were stained with your gloss.

“Then breathe.” He spoke, leaning close and pressing his forehead against your own. Despite his allowance, you couldn’t; feeling his hand travel between your legs, tracing your inner thigh for a moment before moving farther. Eren’s other hand moved to your lower back, keeping you in place while his thumb pressed against your thinly covered pussy, brushing at the wet spot slowly starting to form.

“Already a mess down here, huh?”

“Eren, quit it..” You drawled, legs gripping his waist the moment his thumb pushed to find your covered clit, rubbing the little bud the moment he did.

A soft chuckle flowed from his lips right into your ear, lips tracing the delicate shell just to feel you shiver. “Quit what? Quit touching you?.. quit talking?—“ Eren murmured, pushing your panties to the side, exposing your pretty cunt to his fingers. “Either one, you don’t want me to stop at anyway. Not with how fucking wet you are for me.” He spoke, fingers gliding up and down your slick slit whilst his thumb pressed harder against your little bud.

Your legs widened, trembled— hands gripping his shirt and moaning the moment two thick digits pushed inside your awaiting entrance. Your walls clenched around his fingers, gasping as they pushed in and out of you so easily. He was down to the knuckle, reaching far deeper then your own fingers. The squelches of your messy cunt was drowned out by your own sweet moans, head pressed against the mirror behind you whilst your hand fell to his forearm; feeling his muscles twitch with each thrust of his fingers.

Eren pulled back from your ear to instead plant his lips against yours again, pace quickening. His fingers pushed against the rough spot within you, gummy walls sucking his fingers in each time it dragged in and out of you.

Your moans were muffled, eyes pinched closed with a tight band forming in your lower stomach. You were shaking at this point; breaking the kiss to allow sharp whines to escape your swollen lips. Your pussy was spasming around his digits, hips rocking to meet each thrust.

Eren took in your form, sucking in a breath as he felt his cock strain against his pants. You were so fucking close; your walls greedily sucking him in, your plump stomach rolling with each arch— fuck, from just his fingers you were already in such a state.

He sucked his teeth a bit, withdrawing his fingers before you could even reach your peak. Your eyes flew open at this, shaky gaze focusing onto Eren.

“Eren why’d y—“ Eren came close, cutting off your words with a gentle hand on your throat and lifting you away from leaning on the mirror.

“Whining over nothing… you’ll come baby, just wait.” Eren spoke, hands falling to your thighs and pulling you towards the edge of the counter. Once there, he stepped back to push his boxers and pants down to his thighs; allowing his length to spring out.

He was nice and thick, long too— tip resting just below his belly button, adoring minimal hair. You weren’t given much time to gawk before he was coming close, hands falling to your hips and pressing the crown of his cock against your wet slit.

Slowly, he glided his length up and down your wetness; coating himself in your arousal. Each time his tip bumped against your clit you were twitching, white nails digging into his shoulders while your hips moved for more friction.

Finally after what seemed like hours but was nothing more then agonizing seconds, Eren was slowly pushing inside; groaning the moment your walls clenched around him.

“Relax mama..” He murmured, leaning down to kiss you. A hand then released your hip to travel between your legs, slowly circling your clit. You moaned against him, feeling him ease the rest of himself inside; a soft squelch emitting from the intrusion.

Eren pulled back from the kiss, eyes traveling to where the two of you were connected; sucking in a breath. “Taking me so damn well, pretty girl..” His grin grew the moment your walls clenched around him, eyes flicking to your face. “Oh— you like when I call you that, huh?” A snicker escaped him the moment your eyes traveled to the side, leaning to kiss your neck.

“So cute when you’re embarassed [Name].”

“Sh.. shut up Eren..—“ The words barely escaped you before said man was pulling his hips back, tip resting inside you before flicking them forward. Your hands grip tightened on his shirt, legs tightening as the experimental pumps turned into deep, quick thrusts.

Sputters of his name escaped you, head resting back as your body rocked with each unrelenting movement of his hips. You were squeezing him so damn tight, greedily sucking him in each time he pulled out. The breaths that escaped his mouth were hurried, fanning across your hot skin whilst his fingers dug into your plump form. You were stuck there, unable to run, to move; exposed to the pace he set— ruining you so perfectly.

Perfect.

That was the only thought in his mind as he green eyes took you in, watching your pretty lashes fluttering— struggling to keep your own eyes open. What’s more, little tears began to form, threatening to spill and ruin the makeup he’s sure you spent agonizing minutes on. The thought alone caused him to bury himself deeper, hands falling to the underside of your thighs and pushing you to lay on the counter.

“F—Fuck—!” You cried out, feeling him lift a leg to lay on his shoulder; drilling into you. His heavy length was brushing you in all the right spots, tip pushing against your cervix; the pain and pleasure molding into a single feeling. “E—eren..hah— shit, you’re too deep!” You whined out, tears spilling, causing black streaks to run down chubby cheeks.

Eren groaned softly, pushing to hover over your body whilst gripping the thigh pressed against his chest. “You want me to stop, baby? Huh? Want me to pull out?” The moment you shook your head he was grinning, pace never faltering, the slick mess between your thighs growing.

“Thought so..” Eren breathed, pulling back to kiss against your chubby thigh while his free hand moved to your stomach, pressing against it to feel each thrust. “Wanted this just as bad as I did, didn’t you? So fucking mean at work, yet here you are— whining and making a complete mess on my dick.”

You wanted to tell him to shut up. That he was wrong and much more. But you couldn’t, the man drilling into you with such precision the only legible words escaping your bruised lips were honeyed moans of his name and pleads to come.

Which Eren ate up completely, biting your skin just to feel you twitch— watch you gasp. Fuck, you were the prettiest sight; a complete mess for only his eyes.

Eren lowered to hover over your withering body, lips pressing against your chin. “Look at me, baby— lemme see you.” He breathed, attempting to keep your gaze. Instead you kept looking away, even closing your eyes and refusing to return his look.

That alone caused the man to suck his teeth, hips slowly before stopping completely; eliminating the bubble forming inside you.

Again, your high was ruined; eyes flying open to complain— a surprised yelp interrupting as he snatched you up and off the counter; pushing to turn you and lay you out— stomach down, ass up.

You wished to question this sudden position change, only for the answer to stand right infront of you. The fucking mirror. You attempted to glance away again, moaning the moment he grabbed a nice hold of your braids, pulling your head back to force you to look.

Eren leaned over you, speaking right into your ear whilst sliding back in; “Close your eyes again, I dare you.”

You whimpered at his words, gasping as his quick pace returned. You struggled to keep your eyes open with each thrust into your weakening body, nails clawing at the sleek counter whilst your moans bounced off the walls. You had long forgotten the remaining two hours of your shift, forgot about the many customers you were sure your friend was saddled with— you could only focus on Eren, his dick, his hot breath and dirty words being whispered into your ear.

You were being consumed completely, so easily— and you welcomed it fully.

The wet sounds of skin on skin contact acted as a background to the combined sounds you two released, Eren pulling back to watch himself push in and out of your wet pussy. Your ass bounced with each flick of his hips, rippling the moment his palm slammed against a cheek.

Eren grinned at the sharp whine that escaped you, pulling you right back on his dick the moment you tried to pull away. “Nah.. take it, mama. Don’t fucking run.” He huffed, gripping your hip and keeping you in place.

You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, tears treading down dried streaks as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your edges were curled, lips wet with both lip gloss and saliva, while your makeup began to run from the sheen of sweat tainting your skin. Even so, Eren still looked at you as if you were completely perfect, leaning down and whispering such right into your ear.

You gripped your hands into tight fists, crying out as you stared at him in the mirror, desperate pleas falling from your lies;

“S—so close.. fuck, fuck! Eren, please—!”

The whines were music to his ears, eyes threatening to roll back the moment he felt you fucking back; ass slapping against his body with each messy bounce. “Shit, [Name]..” He dragged, blunt nails digging into you plush skin as he drilled into you. “Come all over me, mama. Make me a mess— don’t fucking hold it.”

Eren hissed, mouth hanging open the moment he felt you clench around him tight; creaming all over his length. A drawn out swear escaped him, leaning down close whilst his hand rose to your throat. “That’s it baby, cream all over this dick.. So fucking filthy.”

You were pulled into a sloppy kiss, tongues playing and teeth colliding as he pushed himself deep inside; flooding you with his hot, thick come. Your toes curled at the feeling, walls spasming around his length as your combined arousals slipped to his balls and down to the ground beneath you.

As his hips slowed the kiss became more uniform, breathing into the other’s mouth, Eren sucking your wet muscle.

Moments passed before he pulled away, watching your form rest on the counter; rapid pants escaping you. A satisfied grin pulled his features, slowly pulling out with a soft hiss— watching his cum slowly flow out of you.

He had half a mind to push it back in.

Instead, Eren whistled lowly, hand falling to your ass and massaging where he previously slapped. “Tired sweetheart?” He questioned, eyes flicking to the mirror. He grinned at the expression that crossed your features, gripping your butt even more.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You slowly turned onto your back, ignoring the feeling between your legs and standing on shaky legs. You warmed as he came close, assisting you in pulling your clothes back on. “But my shift..” You dragged, gaze lifting to his face.

“It got covered.”

You blinked slowly, the pieces slowly coming together. “She was in on this, wasn’t she?”

Eren remained silent for a moment, pulling his pants up. Your gaze narrowed, reaching over to lightly slap his arm. “Eren!”

The man snorted, coming close and resting his hands onto your hips.

“You weren’t worried about it the moment you stepped in here. And you definitely won’t be when I get you home.. so come on.”

REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

#mani writes ━━ ★#black!reader #aot smut #eren x black reader #eren x reader #x black reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader smut #eren yeager x black reader smut #x black reader smut #ambw #ambw smut

882 notes · View notes

misojunnie · 8 months

Note

Imagine Won's reaction when reader surprises him on tour? His eyes light up and he literally jumps and runs over nearly knocking everyone and everything over in the process. I live for soft Won. Could you please turn this into a drabble? 🥺♥️

✧ surprising bf!jungwon on tour!

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ʚϊɞ.

Sweat dripped down Jungwon's forehead as he exhaled heavily. Three hours later, and the last concert in New York was over. After this, it was Aichi, then Konogawa, then Osaka as the grand finale. Aka, 28 days and 11 hours since he had seen you, 31 days and 13 hours since he would see you next. He thought he might die of a broken heart before he even got the chance.

Since you and Jungwon started dating, you hadn't been apart for more than a week. Despite his busy schedule and your own occupations, you managed to squeeze in time wherever you could. A kiss during dance practice, an embrace between train stations, whisking each other away for a brief moment just to say hello or press a chaste kiss to each other's forehead.

Without you, he felt like he was dying. He was beginning to think he was a little too clingy.

He sighed, patting Riki on the back as he passed by him, a stormy frown on his face. The younger boy took notice, a grin passing across his lips as he toweled the sweat off of his forehead.

"You missin' y/n?" he asked observantly, and Jungwon looked at him with a raised brow.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Pretty much," Riki chuckled, slinging his towel over his shoulder. A mischievous twinkle filled his eyes as he pointed down the hall. "The manager is asking for you. Down the hall, first door on the right."

"What does he want now..." Jungwon muttered, striding down the hall with his hands crammed into his pockets, shoulders hunched. His hand reached for the doorknob, turning it with a frown. "Hello? Manager-"

He straightened up as if pulled by a string, his eyes going wide as saucers the minute he laid eyes on you. A proud grin on your face, looking like a dream, in his own hoodie no less. It felt like someone had stole the breath from his lungs.

"Honey, I'm home!" you giggled playfully, eyes scrunched into smiling crescents.

He ran to you in the blink of an eye, his body colliding with yours as he reached for you, knocking a folding table over in the process, water bottles and various hair products crashing to the linoleum.

"Y/n!" he practically shrieked, his arms squeezing you so tightly it felt like your ribs were going to shatter. "What are you doing here?"

"I flew in to surprise you. Came straight from the airport." you laughed against his skin, his hair in your face as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "You miss me?"

"More than you can imagine." he replied, raising his head and pressing kisses all over your face, twice on your nose, once on each cheek, and longer one on your lips. "You smell good."

You giggled. "I'm wearing the perfume you like." He sighed contentedly. Just your presence had pushed him to the point of euphoria. He could already feel his heart mending itself back up again as you smiled at him shyly, grabbing his hand. "Wanna go to my hotel? We can order food and catch a movie."

"I'd love nothing more." His lips spread into a grin as he squeezed your hand enthusiastically, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he led you out of the room.

And he could've swore he saw you high five Riki as you passed him in the hallway.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ʚϊɞ.

a/n: oh my godddd this actual made me blush I could barely write. I love soft won too </3 also I'm sorry this took a million billion years for me to write, I was on vacation and got super distracted ;-; ty for the cute request!

794 notes · View notes

skz-streamer · 8 months

Text

10 Items Stray Kids' Y/n Carries Around In Her Bag

<- BACK TO MASTERLIST

Here are the 10 items that Stray Kids' Y/n keeps in her bag!

By: Bae, Kpopmap Editor 4 min to read · Published : Date 08/26/33 ~63,562 Views

Stray Kids are a leading 4th generation idol group that has captured the hearts of millions across the globe. Their schedule is jampacked, especially with their most recent comeback. They show no signs of slowing down as they are set to attend many upcoming events.

Despite being busy and always on the road, Stray Kids', Y/n joined W Korea for a photoshoot. In behind the scenes content, the member was also able to share what's in her bag. These items hold a special meaning and are absolutely essential for the life of the busy idol.

Check out what's in Y/n's bag down below!

1. A Set Of Dice

"Oh, you won't believe the chaos this purse can tame! First off, there's my set of Louis Vuitton dice that Felix gifted me, its a little extra I know :) Whenever things get crazy, it's like a quick coin flip to decide our fate. It's a fun and easy way to lighten the mood."

2. A Hair Clip

"I always like to keep a hair clip in here. It's this beautiful gold star shaped clip with dangling stars – perfect for those impromptu hair-up moments. It's functional and adds a touch of style to any situation."

3. A Mini Jewelry Case

"I've got a mini jewelry case, too. It's not just for me; all the members use it to keep our jewelry safe when we're on the go. You know how we all love our accessories, and this little case is a lifesaver."

4. A Mini Hairbrush

"Of course, a mini hairbrush is a must. You never know when you'll need to fix up your hair, especially with all the performances and appearances we do."

5. Lip Tint

"Lip tint is another staple. I use it all the time to keep my lips looking lively and fresh. It's that perfect touch of color for any moment."

6. Mini Makeup Kit + Makeup Wipes

"I've got this adorable mini makeup kit from Milk, along with a pack of makeup wipes. It's a quick way to touch up our makeup and stay looking flawless, even during the busiest days."

7. Re-useable Tissue Holder

"For the environmentally conscious side of me, there's a reusable tissue holder with tissues inside. It's great for those unexpected sneezes or quick clean-ups. Plus, it doubles as a napkin in a pinch."

8. Mini fan + Power Bank

"You know how unpredictable the weather can be, so I carry around a mini fan with a power bank. Staying cool and charged – it's like a dream come true."

9. Self Defense Alarm

"I've also got a self-defense alarm, just in case. Even though my boys are always there for me, it's important to be cautious. Safety first, after all."

10. Perfume

"And the cherry on top – a mini bottle of Miss Dior eau de toilette. It's a classic scent that my mom used, so it holds a special place in my heart. A quick spray and I'm feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world."

"So, there you have it! My purse is a mix of practicality, style, and memories. It's like a little piece of me that I carry everywhere."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

an: I tried to make it pretty overall, I know you can't really fit urself into the y/n perspective but... either way this was really fun to make :))))))

Current tag list is: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @ot8skz-wifey @ren0325 @felixvsp @crybabyychu @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-lee08

Red means I couldn't tag youuu

Click here to be added ❤️

442 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

Aita for not getting my roommate a birthday gift and insulting them when they got mad about it?

I don’t really think I’m the asshole (or at least the only asshole) but it’s become such a Situation I need some outside input.

So I and my roommate Ollie (both 18, gender irrelevant) have been living together in a college dorm for a couple months now. We aren’t friends, but we’re friendly. We talk a little in passing but nothing more. We get along for the most part, but my main issue is that Ollie has so much stuff.

I’ve lived with it for months but it’s always a mild annoyance. There’s stuff on our bathroom counter, the kitchen counter, always dishes in the sink and their desk is always a mess. We have separate sides of the room and separate spaces for our food and dishes in the sink and for our shower stuff and bathroom stuff but it still drives me crazy because there’s always clutter around. I haven’t talked to them about it because I don’t want them to get mad at me for trying to micromanage them—I don’t know if they would’ve but now they definitely would.

Also, I think we have a pretty big gap in how much money we have. We both have a meal plan so we can eat at the cafeteria on campus but their part of the fridge is always overflowing. They have a ton of expensive and what look like kinda redundant products, like five bottles of perfume on their desk, and I even saw cotton candy grapes in the fridge?? I haven’t been to the store in a while but I don’t think those are cheap. There’s also a ton of Starbucks and takeout food in the trash too. I on the other hand have to save the money I have (a couple hundred) to put towards a summer class. Even if I wanted to get them a birthday gift, I think it would come down to that or, like, gas money to go home for a weekend

Ollie’s birthday was a little over a week ago. They spent the day out with their friends from what I could tell off social media and when they came back they had a few grocery bags and an Amazon box or two, and once they set them down they asked me what I’d gotten for them.

I asked what they were talking about, and they said for their birthday. I told them I didn’t get them anything and then they started mumbling about fake friends and how they were nothing but nice to me and I couldn’t even give them anything in return. I’m not great on social cues so they might have been joking or sarcastic here but I told them they were crazy if they thought I was gonna add to any of their piles of useless stuff around here and called them a hoarder (that may be too harsh but I mean, I saw a Wendy’s receipt from October on their desk last week. It’s February.) They got really pissed and started swearing at me and I forget most of what was said after that but it escalated, we ended up screaming, they left for the night, it was bad.

Since then their friend from high school, we’ll call her Ruby (21F I think) has been blowing up my phone. Telling me I have no right to talk to Ollie like that, that I’m a shitty friend and she ought to just block me (we aren’t friends so idk where this one came from), and told me that apparently Ollie’s mom was some kind of a reclusive hoarder and Ollie has been crying and worrying about becoming like her. I honestly don’t believe this last one because I met their mom when we moved in last September and she seemed like a completely nice person.

Ollie hasn’t been back here. I think they got their essentials while I was in class and is staying with Ruby now, she lives in a building just off campus. I reached out to make sure they were okay and, you know, alive, and they just said “don’t fucking text me I’m fine don’t worry about it.” I have pretty bad anxiety, it’s been six days and it’s still almost all I can think about. I feel like I should apologize but I’m honestly not sure if I’m in the wrong or not. So, aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

164 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: SMUT, the forbidden quickie

Chapter Word Count: 3548

—-MDNI—-

A/N: ahhhhhhhh I finally wrote some spice! Sorry it took a while. This is a little tame I guess but we can work up to the extra lewd stuff

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 6

The following day rolled around quickly and before we knew it there was only an hour remaining until the auction house charity event. The disturbing events of yesterday were pushed to the back of my mind, the boys respecting my wishes on not wanting to talk about it. Sam told us over breakfast that he’d managed to access the auction house database and add our names to the guest list for the party, making it easy for us to attend without getting caught out as uninvited visitors. Now back in my room, I was rummaging through my duffel and pulling out my evening attire: a long black dress made of soft satin that had a slit up to the hip on one side. The neckline was a deep v-plunge and the dress was entirely backless.

“I guess no bra for me tonight then,” I mumbled to myself, also pulling out a clean pair of black lace panties and a pair of closed toe, VERY high black satin heels that had a neat little buckle on the ankle strap. I was already showered and my makeup was already done so I dropped my towel and slipped into the dress, pulling the thin straps over my shoulders. I followed by pulling on my panties, stretching the lace over my hips so it wasn’t visible through the slit in the dress. If you didn’t know any better, it would look like I wasn’t wearing anything at all. I sat on the edge of the bed and put on the heels, securing them in place before standing up and doing a few practice laps of the room - wearing shoes this high was not a common occurrence for me. I finished up by dusting my skin with the same perfume I wore yesterday, breathing in the pleasant smell before tucking the bottle along with my rouge lipstick into my little black clutch. I fussed over myself in the mirror for a few minutes when I heard a knock at the door. Pacing over I flung it open to greet the Winchester boys, and when I did I couldn’t help but do a double take over the oldest brother. I hated to admit it but he looked good. REALLY good. He was dressed head to toe in black: a slim fitted suit, shirt and tie, all of which seemed to flick something on in my brain. His suit jacket hung open and beneath it the shirt was clinging to his well defined torso, the top two buttons straining a little.

“You scrub up well, Dean,” I said to him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised. Instead, I think I sounded incredibly flirtatious. Dean didn’t seem to notice though as I watched his jaw slacken and his eyes flit over my body.

“Uhhh-um yeah, thanks,” he said, clearing his throat a little as he stepped aside to let me out.

“You look great, (Y/n),” Sam said, making such intense eye contact with me like he didn’t know where else to look, his cheeks glowing a little.

“Thanks Sam,” I smiled up at him before locking the motel room door and trying to ignore the fact that Dean didn’t say anything. Back to being an ass I see.

“So (Y/n), you’re with Dean. It should be pretty simple: get in, get the hair pain, get out. With that many people at the event, we don’t want to risk anyone getting hurt so I'll be ready and waiting outside with everything we need to destroy it and put the ghost to rest,” Sam briefed us before carrying on, “I’ll head back to our room to get everything and I’ll meet you there - you guys get going,” he nodded his head to Deans car which was parked out front. Dean said a quick farewell and headed out and I did the same, giving Sam a wave as he turned to leave.

I climbed into the front of the Impala, running my hands over the plush leather seat.

“You really do have great taste in cars Dean,” I said, looking around at the immaculate interior. He hummed in agreement, putting his arm over the back of my seat as he reversed out of the parking spot. Those top two buttons on his shirt were not going to last all night. I crossed my legs, getting comfortable for the short journey into town - the satin of my dress falling open and completely exposing my thigh to Dean. I watched him take his eyes off the road and fixate on my bare skin, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Returning his eyes to the road I saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath, a small but deep groan emitting from his chest.

“You ok?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” he rasped.

“Ok… you’re acting strange though,” I said, leaning on the passenger side door to watch the street lamps turn on.

“Can you blame me?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

There was a few seconds of silence before he flicked on his cassette player and classic rock filled the car, bringing a smile to my ruby lips.

“Good taste in music too? I’ll be damned, you’ve got more of a personality than I thought.”

He scoffed a little before smirking, “there’s more to me than meets the eye sweetheart.” He looked over at me, green eyes piercing into mine with such intensity I suddenly felt a little warm. I looked away, quickly counting my lucky stars when I noticed we’d arrived.

Dean parked up and I reached for the door, however Dean stopped me from opening it.

“Wait,” his tone was authoritative as he reached a hand out to stop me, his rough fingers lightly grazing the soft skin of my thigh. Before I could even respond, he’d hopped out, slamming his door shut before striding around the front of the car to open mine for me. He held his hand out, which I grasped delicately and he pulled me to my feet.

“What was that for?” I asked, puzzled as he closed the passenger side door behind me.

“Just trying to keep up appearances for this shit-show,” he stated bluntly before he walked off ahead of me towards the front door whilst he left me to navigate the uneven cobbles in these death-trap shoes.

“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath, but he must’ve heard me because he turned around, sighed and held out his arm for me to take.

“Just ask if you need help,” he leaned in and said quietly, his face close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I sucked in a breath, which was a mistake as he smelt positively divine. He was filling my senses and I didn’t want him to.

We made it into the building with no trouble at all thanks to Sam’s hard work. The inside of the auction house was a grand spectacle indeed; with high ceilings, a chandelier made up of thousands of tiny pieces of crystal and two symmetrical mahogany staircases at the end of the entrance hall. It was busy, lots of people in expensive attire milling about and drinking equally expensive sparkly wine.

“Shall we get some champagne?” I turned and asked Dean, who chuckled slightly.

“You’re already more fun than Sam,” he said before whisking two flute glasses off a passing waiter and handing me one. We chinked glasses, laughing a little at how awkward all of this pomp and ceremony was for us before we both downed the expensive alcohol like shots. Dean winced slightly, handing his now empty flute back to the same waiter who gave him a concerned look.

“Aw damn, those bubbles - that shits wrong.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to sip it,” I laughed at him, placing my empty glass on an old polished oak sideboard.

“Then why did you neck it too if you knew?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I shrugged.

“To be honest I don’t know - I guess I wanted to lighten the old-money mood in here.” He nodded, seeming to understand where I was coming from. After that fiasco we made our way towards the immense curved staircases at the end of the room, Deans hand occasionally touching my exposed back as he guided me in front of him, making me shiver involuntarily. We ascended, making our way up and past people who were at the top of the stairs, idly chatting and leaning on the bannister - not paying us any mind as we turned down a quiet corridor. We walked quietly, the hum of chatting remaining behind us as we made our way down the dim corridor, looking out for the room number Sam had given us.

“Room 19, room 19, room 19…” I chanted to myself searching every door until we found the right one. Coming to a stop, Dean quickly knelt down and pulled a lockpick from his pocket. I watched in fascination as he inserted the device, ever so gently manoeuvring it with a look of pure concentration on his face. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at him whilst he was unaware; looking at those focused and hooded dark green eyes, slightly parted lips that he wet with his tongue and large muscled shoulders that were almost as wide as the doorway. I didn’t want to admit it, but God damn he was attractive. There was a click and he stood up quickly, pocketing the lockpick and opening the door, hurrying me inside. I walked gingerly into the room which looked like a mixture between a study and a museum. There were large bookcases spanning the walls, sideboards boasting an array of intriguing items, all contained in secure glass cabinets, and finally a large leather-topped mahogany desk in the centre of the room. This place smelt old.

I heard Dean close the door behind him as he paced in after me, immediately scanning the room.

“Right,” he said, his tone stern and authoritative, “you take that side and I’ll take this side.” I nodded, immediately scouring every surface for our haunted item.

We must’ve been looking for around ten minutes when Dean called me over.

“Do you think that’s it?” He almost whispered, pointing to an item that I would definitely have described as a jade hairpin.

“Yup,” I whispered back, leaning slightly closer to him so I could get a better look. I felt him draw a sharp breath in before sighing slightly. “Can you pick this lock?” I asked, ignoring his antics and sticking to the business at hand.

“Yeah give me a second and I’ll get it open,” he stepped in front of me. Not wanting to get in his way, I walked into the centre of the room to where the desk was and leant against it, looking around at all of the bizarre items. Surely there are some other haunted things in here other than what we came for. My eyes eventually landed on an old gramophone.

“Oh that bitch is definitely haunted,” I mumbled to myself right as I heard Dean pop the lock on the glass cabinet. I watched as he wrapped the hairpin in a square of fabric before shoving it into his pocket and clicking the cabinet closed.

“Mission complete,” he said, a slight grin on his lips as he walked to stand in front of me. That grin fell from his face though when suddenly there were voices outside the door and keys rattling in the lock. We hadn’t planned for this. He looked at me in a panic.

“Kiss me,” I blurted.

“What?”

“I have a plan: Dean just fucking kiss m-” it was like I didn’t have to tell him twice before he had a hand in my hair and his lips were on mine. My heart started pounding and his mouth was hot against my cool skin. I hummed, sliding my fingers up his chest to grip the lapels on his jacket, pulling him further in towards me. Before I could get sucked into whatever it was that I was feeling, the study door flew open and two older gentlemen in brown tweed suits walked in, stopping in their tracks at the sight of us.

“Good heavens! What are you doing in here?” One of them exclaimed. Dean turned his head to look at the men, a smirk on his face and I couldn’t help but blush furiously at the sight of my lipstick that was now smeared on the corner of his lips.

“So sorry gentlemen, the door was unlocked so we just let ourselves in. I hope you don’t mind…” I watched, my eyes widening a little as he lifted his jacket slightly, showing the gun that was tucked into his belt. The men’s eyes also widened and they backed up towards the door.

“Yes, yes! Of course you did! Please, take your time. Just…” the man paused, his eyes darting to the precious items on his desk, “please try not to make a mess - it’s all I ask.” And with that they both left as quickly as they arrived, closing the door behind them. I let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Dean.

“Thank fuck… Dean I’m so sor-” I didn’t have a chance to think as Deans mouth was back on mine; rough and needy. I sat in shock for a second before being pulled back to reality when Dean held the side of my face, his fingers sliding up to tangle with my hair. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back, my mind racing and going blank simultaneously. His free hand ghosted up my exposed leg, touching so gently I could barely feel him. He soon decided though that gentle wasn’t working for him, and he gripped my thigh, his fingers digging into my soft flesh and making me gasp - his hands on my body were already working their magic as I couldn’t stop his name from leaving my lips.

“Dean…” I moaned. I can’t believe it - I had actually moaned his fucking name. He groaned into my mouth, obviously liking the sound of his name rolling off my tongue. Tearing his hand from my hair and gripping my other thigh, without warning and with rushed movements, he lifted me with ease so I was sat atop the desk.

“Wrap your legs around me darlin,” he said with a deep lustful tone against my lips. I whimpered involuntarily as I did as he said. He pried his mouth from mine and started to kiss elsewhere; my cheek, behind my ear… my neck. I ran my hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, running my nails over his scalp and making him shiver. I gripped his hair and yanked, forcing his head up. I locked eyes with him, his eyes no longer that brilliant green but now blown and black with lust. My own eyes were probably no different. His gaze fluttered from my eyes to my lips, and before I let him kiss me again I leant forward and pressed my lips to his throat, my tongue on his skin. It was his turn to moan as I reached a hand down and traced a finger up the hard weapon growing in his pants. His large hands moving from my thighs to my ass, gripping tighter than ever before as I seemed to be pushing all the right buttons. He slid me to the edge of the desk so my lace-covered intimates were pressing right against him, friction and pleasure commencing. I pulled my lips from his throat before tugging his face down to mine, instigating the finale. I spoke breathlessly over his lips, already craving the taste of him again.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what, Winchester?”

Dean practically growled, frantically fumbling with moving my dress aside. He hooked a shaky but skilled finger into my underwear, trying to pull it aside but the elastic wouldn’t allow for it. I began to tremble as his digits kept ghosting over my most sensitive area. He soon gave up with his first plan, and his second plan made my eyes roll into the back of my head. Dean pulled a large hunting blade from inside his jacket and slid the flat side against my skin and up my thigh until it was under the lace fabric. The ice cold metal made me shiver before he swiftly sliced the blade up towards him, cutting my panties to shreds as he repeated the motion on the other side.

“Fuck that was hot,” I panted as he put the blade away and captured my lips again, running his tongue over mine. I gasped suddenly when he dipped a finger inside me, curling it and caressing that soft, sensual cushion that was hidden away. When I moaned, he added a second finger, leaning away from me slightly so he could see what a mess I was beneath him. After a few moments of utter bliss, he pulled his fingers out, sticking them straight in his mouth.

“You’re fucking delicious,” he groaned, standing up straight to shimmy out of his jacket. I leant forwards, grasping his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling down his zipper. Slowly I reached in and pulled him out of his boxers, his rock hard manhood hot and heavy in my palm. He closed his eyes as I ran my thumb over the tip, guiding my hand up and down, up and down, again and again until he grabbed my wrist.

“Let go so I can fuck you ‘til you can’t walk,” he practically growled, making me weak. I leant back on my palms, watching as he lined himself up and then disappeared inside me in one earth shattering motion. My eyes rolled back and my lips parted as I locked my ankles instinctively behind his back, my heels catching on the gun still tucked into his pants. He started to set a rhythm as he fucked me into the desk, the wooden structure sliding back with every thrust he made. He had both hands firmly planted on the desk beside me and I gripped his forearms tight, my head starting to spin from the overwhelming pleasure. It didn’t help that Deans head had dropped into the crook of my neck and his heavy breathing was like music to my ears. He kissed the skin there softly, drawing a moan from my lips with the sudden tenderness. The pounding was speeding up, and he suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, desperately trying to get closer - to get deeper. The need for release was building and I’d lost control of my voice; Deans name tumbling from my lips like a prayer. I pressed his lips to mine feverishly, his breath ragged as he managed to pant out;

“Shit, (Y/n) I’m so close… I’m gonna need you to cum for me…”

I whimpered at the sound of my name on his breathless lips and he let go of my waist, placing his large palm on my stomach and sliding it down until his thumb connected with that bundle of nerves.

“Shit-Dean-,” whining against his mouth I started to feel the tension in the pit of my stomach build - the feeling of him pounding into me and stretching me more than ever before combined with his thumb on the magic button was a recipe for a quick release. And Dean knew that. He was fucking me so hard now that the sound of wet skin on skin echoed around the room and the banging of the desk could surely be heard from out in the corridor- maybe even downstairs. That knot was tightening, and tightening, and tightening until:

“Fuck- Dean I’m gonna cum!”

“Fuck,” was all he managed to groan before I shattered around him, that knot snapping and sending me into probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had. As I tensed up I pulled Dean over the edge with me and he buried his face into my neck, breathing heavily and cursing occasionally.

We stayed like that for a few moments, regaining some clarity and returning to earth. He took a few deep breaths before standing up and pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and doing up his belt as his cum dripped down my thigh. He couldn't seem to look away, even when he reached for his jacket on the floor and put it back on.

“Stay there,” he said finally, disappearing behind some shelves for a second before returning with a box of tissues. He helped me clean myself up, tossing the tissues in the bin as we attempted to get rid of the evidence.

“Are you ok?” He asked sincerely, concern in his eyes as he offered me his hand. I smiled a little bashfully, placing my palm in his.

“I hate to admit it but I feel great.”

He helped me down off the table, placing a hand on my waist to help steady me on my still trembling legs. We both stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before realisation hit us both and we looked at each other with wide eyes.

”Oh shit - Sam!”

——————————————————————

Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen

some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings!

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 7

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #smut #eventual smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #slow burn

318 notes · View notes