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#pillow isn't mine
landlockedcorsair · 1 year
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Et tu, Cutetay??
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papa-evershed · 9 months
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Rob James-Collier as Martin Evershed ✨Dad Bod™ Edition✨
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kweenkatsuki-main · 8 months
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Yall when KCH has to get up before me for work, he fashions the pillows on his side of the bed into a little pile so that I can still cling to something when he has to leave me.
and he also tucks me in and gives me a kiss on the forehead. 🥹🥹🥹
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meownotgood · 1 year
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I thought about how I'll get to add lookup aki to my collection next month and nendoroid aki to my collection the month after and my heart started to beat faster
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pasta-is-magnificent · 20 hours
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Back at it again with the furniture shopping and boy howdy has nothing changed with the
FRUSTRATIONS
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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(nsfw, 18+)
there are some things that toji isn't necessarily proud of.
he's not a fan of the fact that he comes home grimy every night, fingernails caked with blood. he doesn't like that the stupid scar on his lip hasn't faded and he hates the fact that he didn't marry you first.
"f-fuck, toji...!" you squealed out, your face being smushed into the pillow as he pounded into you from behind, his grips on your hips bruising.
"yeah? you good?" he cheekily asked, a smug smirk on his face as you blabbered some nonsense out, insistently shaking your head yes.
it was just so unfair that he met you, his pretty neighbor, after he moved in. his relationship with his wife was already straining, he could feel her cold demeanor towards him every time they went to sleep.
but you were so nice to him and his kid, a warm smile on your face as you waved over to them. megumi liked you too, hell, toji was sure he liked you more than his own mother, and to top it all off, once you started babysitting megumi he couldn't control his emotions.
it took one night of too much alcohol and lust filled eyes and now, toji can no longer go two days without fucking your sweet pussy.
"let go, come on," he groaned, his scar twitching as he pressed slopping kisses down your spine, "tell me how much y'love me," his balls slapped lewdly against your pussy and he loved to sounds it made.
"love you, mpf! l-love you s'much toji," you whined out, fingers gripping his bedsheets as his thumb swiped down at your clit, your eyes rolling backwards at his motion. you could never last too long with toji, and he knew just what to do to make you unravel.
"good girl, fuck, you're so tight, so good f'me," he praised, his head dragging against your tight walls as he felt the two of you getting closer, "'gonna file the papers tomorrow, then yer finally and officially 'gonna be mine. like that? hm baby?"
you nodded again, words escaping your mouth as toji picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours as you felt yourself about the let go, your release just moments away from you.
"'m'yours toji, fuuuuck!" you promised, and that's all it took his him to sputter, filling you up as your walls clenched around him, your orgasm so quick, so sinful, so good that you almost passed out.
you would have if not for him leaning down to your ear, that shit-eating grin still on his face as he kissed your cheek,
"up fer another round? 'wanna risk it?"
and you nodded again, knowing that you could never say no to toji.
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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skyahri · 1 month
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How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
Summary: How they are in bed.
Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.
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Sasuke Uchiha
Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.
More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.
On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.
He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.
Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.
He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.
If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.
"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"
Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.
Kakashi Hatake
Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.
Passionate.
When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.
Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.
But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.
"You're such a good girl."
"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."
"You're mine, you know that?"
He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.
After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.
He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.
Shikamaru Nara
My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.
He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.
Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.
You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.
Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.
Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.
He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.
Madara Uchiha
Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.
There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.
Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.
He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.
It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.
Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.
He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).
He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.
He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.
His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.
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evie-sturns · 2 months
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period - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼
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summary: you unexpectedly get your period after spending the night with chris, he does everything he can to make you feel better.
contains: mentions of blood, fluff, crying, swearing.
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chris and i have been dating for almost two months, i sleep over at his house often though, including last night.
9:46am
i'm rudely awakened by frantic tapping on my shoulder, i rub my eyes and roll over where i'm met with chris's distraught face. "hm..?" i groan out.
"y/n, are you okay" chris rambles, his vision flicks between my eyes and the matress.
"what..?" i mumble, my vision is still partially blurred from the sudden wake up.
"you're bleeding" chris says quietly, swallowing harshly.
i sit up, the matress is dotted with blood, along with the small pyjama set i wore last night.
my period has always been irregular, ever since i was about 12. i'd never know when it would come but i would just deal with it when it did.
my stomach sinks, my cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment, this is the kind of thing thats meant to happen 2 years into your relationship, not 2 months.
my eyes start to burn, im already an emotional person but now that this has just happened i don't think i can physically be okay.
"im so sorry chris." i say, my voice breaking.
chris clears his throat, i can tell he's slightly awkward about this.
the silence in the room grows, but is quickly cut short by a sob coming from me. chris's head snaps round to look at me, "oh fuck-.. no its okay!"
he gets out of bed, without a second thought he leans over the matress and picks me up in a bridal position. he speed walks to the bathroom, "look at me." chris says calmly as i cry into his shoulder, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "don't cry sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me."
i nod with a sniffle, he places me down on two feet. "you wanna get in the bath?" chris says gently.
"yeah.." i say, my voice still wobbling.
i stand still with my hands by my side vulnerably. "you want me to.." chris whispers, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "if you dont mind.." i reply.
he reaches his hand out and peels my tank top off of my body, along with my shorts. he does it so nonchalantly its impressive.
chris has only seen me naked once, which was only a week or so ago after our first hookup.
he flicks the bath on, putting his finger under the stream to check the temperature before lifting me up and placing me down.
chris bends over and picks up the pyjamas, before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. i throw my head back as soon as he goes "how did this happen." i groan to myself.
-
about 10 minutes has passed, the whole time i've just been trying to calm myself, crying about this isn't gonna make it any less embarrassing for me.
my head snaps to the side as i hear 2 soft knocks on the wooden door, "come in" i say with a forced smile, chris peeks his head round the corner with a sympathetic look. hes got a freshly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in his arms, which he places down on the sink. "you okay?" he asks casually, sitting down on the side of the tub.
"i mean, i'm okay as i can be right now!" i smile warmly up at chris,
he reaches into his pocket and clears his throat "i found this downstairs, i think one of nick's friends left it here-..uh" chris murmmers, pulling a tampon out of his pocket.
"thank you chris, honestly i'm sorry about being a pain." i sigh, chris shakes his head "no you're good, promise."
"just gonna go make the bed, yeah?" chris sits up off the tub and walks out of the bathroom.
-
after getting myself together i open the door to the bedroom, chris is sitting on the bed, laying the pillows out strategically. i feel like a kid thats just thrown up, staring at my parent who just had to bathe me and clean the sheets.
he stands up and runs over to me full force, grabbing me around my waist and picking me up, earning a high pitched squeal from me. "chris!!" i screech as he flops down on the bed with me still in his arms.
"what can i actually do to repay you." i whisper into chris's chest.
"give me some awesome head next week."
"christopher."
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xxxdreamscapexxx · 6 months
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Be mine
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Alpha! Natasha Romanoff x Omega!FemReader
Word count: 5.1k
Summary: Natasha may have lost some hoodies, but she gained a mate and in her eyes, that's a trade she'd be willing to make any day. Based on the above prompt, but with some twists ;)
Warning: NSFW, 18+, A/B/O universe, mutual pining, lesbian? relationship, heavy petting (clothed sex), oral sex (R receiving), penetrative sex, a tiny bit of breeding kink, mating, claiming, knotting. You'll have to forgive me if this isn't your typical A/B/O fic, but I haven't read many of those and I don't know much about the universe itself, so this may not be super accurate, but I did my best. I hope you guys will enjoy it none the less.
As soon as she entered the room, you could smell her. It was always the way with Alphas, their strong, musky scent was unmistakable, but with hers came a sense of relief. Natasha made you feel safe, made you feel protected, without being overbearing. You could always feel when she was looking at you and you knew she kept track in her head. She knew if and when you ate, knew if you drank water, and when she didn’t deem it enough, she would silently bring you some. She never forced you to drink it, never even said a word, she would just leave it in front of you and walk away. She also knew damn well that you drank it. She also knew that sometimes you were stubborn, but most times you were just anxious and she stayed with you during long nights, watching a movie, knowing that her presence calmed you, and when you finally fell asleep, she carried you back to your room and put you in your bed, so you’d rest, the way you should. Yes, Nat was a kind and caring Alpha and the way her smell filled your nostrils made you drop your shoulders, before you greeted her. “Good morning, Nat.” You smiled, turning around, holding a plate with your breakfast, only to see the woman in nothing but sweatpants and a sports bra. Not even shoes! Her bare feet slapped on the floor as she stepped confidently into the room and you immediately looked away, feeling shy. “Morning.” She grumbled distractedly, her eyes scanning the room for something. “Do you want some breakfast?” You offered, still avoiding her gaze and the absolute mouth-watering sight that was her torso. God, you loved those strong arms, with their well-defined muscles. Not to mention those abs. You wanted to straddle her and rub your pussy over those gorgeous abs and when you’re done, you’d lick them clean! But you tried to push that thought away, not wanting to spend the rest of your day with wet panties and smelling of desperation. “No…” Natasha answered absent-mindedly, barely even looking at you, when her head suddenly snapped at you. “Hey, you haven’t seen any of my hoodies, have you?” She asked with a curious expression.
Ah, yes, her hoodies. You knew damn well where they were. And, truthfully, you intended to give them back. When you first took one or two, you meant to give them back to her. But then things got out of hand. You would usually go on missions with her, you worked well together, and an unclaimed Omega, who knew how to handle herself, not to mention, who could resist an Alpha’s influence, the way you did, was a very useful thing to a spy. But then they told you, that you needed to go on a mission with a new Alpha. The Scarlet Witch, or Wanda to you, now that you knew her a little better, was not yet experienced enough and having a seasoned, well trained and collected Omega with her certainly helped your mission greatly. But it made your anxiety sky-rocket. So just before your mission, you took one of Nat’s hoodies. She had left it on the couch in the common room and it smelled like her so much, that you didn’t even think twice. You packed it in a separate, sealed bag and took it with you, placing it on your pillow each night, thinking that you’ll wash it and give it back to her upon your return. But things didn’t exactly go that way. Apparently, your mission with Wanda went better than expected and you were asked to train more with the other Alphas, to go to more missions and each time you thought of having to leave the compound, your anxiety and distress would spike. And that’s how you found yourself with most, if not all of Natasha’s hoodies in your nest. You’d take a new one each time you had to leave for a mission, promising yourself to give them back and then you’d get so attached, that you just couldn’t. “Your hoodies?” Presently, you pretended not to know what she talked about. “No, I… I have no idea.” You lied shamelessly and you walked away, completely forgetting your own breakfast, which is why you were there in the first place. Natasha only shrugged, scratching the back of her neck as her eyes continued to search the room, even though she knew that her hoodies weren’t here. Now if only she could figure out what happened to them… During the next few days, you could see Natasha asking various people about her lost hoodies and her eyes scanning training rooms and lounge arias and your anxiety had reached a new level. It wasn’t just that you knew that she’ll eventually find out about what you did, or having to make a fool of yourself by explaining that you wanted her desperately… You also didn’t want to give them up. You felt so attached to them now. So as a means to placate the woman and maybe get her off your trail, you went ahead and bought her new ones.
It wasn’t hard to guess what she’d like, considering that you had so many of hers and you made your way back with a happy smile on your face. Yes, you were sure this would work. The stunned expression on Natasha’s face, when you handed her the shopping bag and explained the content, was absolutely priceless. You watched with joy as she rummaged through the bag and took them out one by one, inspecting them and smiling. “These are great! They’re better than my old ones! Thank you!” She exclaimed, giving you a brief hug, before she returned to her new hoodies. “You’re very welcome, Nat.” You smiled, before trying to walk away, only to be stopped in your tracks by Wanda. “Hey, Y/N, that was a very nice thing you did. Why don’t you sit down, detka, I’ll make you something to eat. I bet you skipped lunch, since you were out shopping.” The disapproving look Natasha gave the witch did not go unnoticed by the Sokovian, but she only smiled, making her way to the fridge and picking out products for a quick meal. She suspected that you liked the spy, and she had a feeling that the infamous Black Widow had similar feelings and she also suspected that neither of you had the courage to say so. Natasha was a strong Alpha, in the field, she was mesmerising to watch, but in her personal life, she never believed to be worthy of a good, little Omega to make her own. And you? God, you had it bad for her, but an Omega needed to be claimed, so of course, you wouldn’t say a thing. But Wanda had the perfect plan to nudge you both in the right direction. Let’s see how much can Natasha sit back and watch her favourite Omega being flirted with. “What do you say I make you some pasta, hm?” Wanda turned to you with a gentle smile. “With that special sauce you like so much?” She suggested. “You don’t have to do that, Wanda… I can…” You were about to say that you can make your own meal, but you were quickly interrupted. “But I want to, pretty girl. You’re always so nice and sweet and you take care of us so much. Let someone take care of you for a change.” She said with a grin, loving the way Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Come, sit down and pick a nice movie for us to watch, while I make you something to eat.” She continued, practically guiding you to the couch and seating you, handing you the remote, so you’d pick a movie, while she cooked, all while Natasha glared.
She couldn’t explain why she felt so irritated, you weren’t hers. But you had went out shopping for her, you had bought hoodies for her, it was meant to be her that now complimented you and pampered you, not Wanda. It almost felt like the witch took her moment and it pissed her off. Grumbling, unable to watch this much longer, Natasha took the shopping bags with her, carefully unpacking everything and putting a few hoodies into the washing machine, so they’d be clean for tomorrow. She had already picked which one she’ll wear, appreciating a shorter, white hoodie with an image of a black spider above her left breast. It was gorgeous. You had wonderful taste in clothes. But with the memory of the nice gesture you made, she also remembered that you were currently spending your time with Wanda, the young Alpha complimenting you repeatedly and the image of that brought a fresh wave of irritation. It didn’t sit right with her, the way she flirted with you. So, with a brisk step, Natasha came back to the common room, only to find Wanda seated right next to you, her arm extended around your shoulders and pulling you close, while she was telling you how beautiful you looked. “I thought you guys were watching a movie.” Natasha snarled from the doorway, her hands balled into fists. “We will. We’re just waiting for the food to get ready.” Wanda informed with a sly smile, pulling you even closer to her, almost into her lap it seemed. “There’s plenty of room to talk on the couch.” Natasha pointed out, her eyes fixed on Wanda’s proximity and especially her arm around you. “I thought I’d get to know Y/N a little better. After all, she’ll be coming on another mission with me the day after tomorrow.” She announced, causing both you and Natasha to stare at her. You didn’t know anything about a new mission, especially so soon after your last one. “No one told me that.” You said, a little stunned. “They debriefed me this morning while you were out. Steve has all the files for you when you’re ready.” Wanda explained calmly. “It’s nothing special. Just 10 days in Brazil. We’ll be going after a cartel that recently seems to have gotten enhanced weapons and technology. Their leader is famous for having an eye for unclaimed Omegas. He’ll be arriving a few days earlier, so we’ll follow his movements and find out who the seller is.” “Sounds easy enough.” You nodded, trying not to show your distress.
You always got a little antsy when you had to flirt your way into an Alpha’s operation like that. They were suspicious, territorial and often vicious. Some killed Omegas, when they thought they were being spied on. Some did even worse things. You always feared what your fate would be, should your team fail you one day. Not that something like this had ever happened. Despite putting on a brave face, Wanda could sense the way you tensed up, the tightening of your muscles in her hold. You were scared, she could tell and a part of her felt terrible for bringing up so many unpleasant feelings. “Don’t worry, malush, I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She assured, her words honest. “I know, Wanda, thank you.” You nodded, relaxing a little in her hold and allowing her gentle fingers to run through your hair. “You better make good on that promise, Maximoff.” Natasha growled from her spot, watching the scene unfold with mind clouded by a deep sense of irritation. She was jealous. Undeniably so and she couldn’t stand to see you being soothed by another. It was meant to be her, who protected you, made you feel safe, made you feel cherished and loved. You were meant to be hers. If only she had actually made a move. But how could she? Why would someone like you ever want her? With the bitter taste of regret still on her tongue, Natasha turned on her heals and left the room, not even letting Wanda respond to her words. She’ll give the younger Alpha a stern talk about you later… If she was going to stand by and watch someone else court you, she was going to make sure that they knew the consequences, should they ever hurt you or your feelings. Feeling angry, Natasha entered her room and fell on the bed with a thud. Her head turned to the shopping bag, still full of clothes that you had went out to get just for her and her heart warmed at the sight. She really should thank you. Getting up, she ran to the nearest store, buying a box of your favorite chocolates and a beautiful card, writing a few words of gratitude inside, before she returned to the compound.
Natasha looked at her hands for a moment, thinking if she should interrupt your movie with Wanda, but decided against it in the end, so she went to your room, deciding to just leave the small package for you to find. She didn’t think much of the action, having been in your room many times before, so she just walked right in. She loved being here, surrounded by you and she closed her eyes briefly, savouring it, but her steps faltered almost immediately, when her eyes opened and landed on your bed and the pile of her hoodies on it. She could smell your sweet scent in the room, all around her, but especially the bed and as she got closer, she could distinctly smell the way you’d practically rolled around in her things. She could barely sense her own scent on them now. Some of these she’d missed for months. “So that’s where they went.” She heard herself saying. As soon as the recognition came, so did something else. A question. Why had you taken them?  Why did you want her scent on you? Could you… No! That simply couldn’t be… You wouldn’t be in love with her? Perhaps you simply got attached? Omegas were such sensitive souls sometimes. And the two of you had spent so much time together. But deep down she knew she was just denying the obvious. Just like she was denying her own feelings. Unsure of what to do and how to approach such a subject, she stood frozen in place, her thoughts racing wildly. She was lost in her own world of worry and regret, desire and longing, that she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps, until you were in the room, gasping at the sight of her. “Natasha!” You exclaimed, your eyes filling with fear and panic, as you realized she’d seen your stash of stolen hoodies. “I can explain!” You started to say, but were interrupted, when she dropped the box in her hands and closed the distance between you in a few short strides, capturing your face in her hands and making you face her. “Tell me it’s true.” She said, pleading, too impatient to even explain what she wanted to hear, her eyes soft and full of so much hope. “Please?” She almost whined. “It’s true.” You nodded, some of the initial shock dissipating. “It’s always been true. How can you not know that?” You smiled, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. That soft smile and that sparkle in your eyes as you looked at her was all the confirmation Natasha ever needed and she leaned down eagerly, claiming your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all her passion and love into it, hoping that she could convey just how much she had been dreaming of this moment with you. God, your lips against her felt divine. She could hardly contain the throaty little growl that left her as she deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around you in an almost possessive manner, while she pressed herself firmly against you, letting you feel the bulge in her pants, that only seemed to grow and harden the longer she touched you.
“I love you.” She whispered, lifting you off the ground and crashing your bodies against the nearest wall. It seemed to take her no effort at all to hold you up with one hand, the other cupping one of your breasts, while she pressed and rubbed her clothed sex against you. “Fuck, you feel so good!” She gasped, her hips slamming into yours, her bulge teasing your pussy and making you grow even wetter and more desperate for her. “So good, baby.” She whispered, detaching her lips from yours, so she could start trailing kisses down your neck. You shivered and trembled in her hold, back arching, so you could feel more of her. You wanted to rip the clothes from her body, feel her skin against yours, feel trapped underneath her as she pounded into you, the way you’d been dreaming of all this time. “Natasha!” You moaned her name and it drove her even more desperate with desire for you. She pulled on your shirt, hearing it rip and starting to fall apart, until she had your breasts in front of her face. Those delicious nipples were just begging to be sucked between her lips, she was sure of it, and she didn’t hesitate to do just that. “Natasha, baby!” You almost screamed this time, feeling the pressure in your stomach grow with every thrust of her hips. “Take me to bed, please!” You begged, nails digging into her shoulders as she bit your nipple. She used her tongue to soothe it and she stole one last quick peck from you, before she moved, carrying you just as effortlessly to the bed and dropping you on the big pile of her hoodies, her own body following right after and trapping you eagerly. “Don’t worry, baby, from now on, you’ll always have my scent on you.” She smirked, positioning herself between your spread legs and rutting against you with the same fervour as before. “Fuck, Natasha!” You let out a little whine. She was getting you so close. You could feel the pleasure rising, even through the layers and you were approaching an embarrassing orgasm much faster than you ever thought possible. “Fuck, baby, you gotta stop, you’re gonna make me…” You tried to warn, but she was having none of it. “Me too, Y/N. Come with me, baby.” She gasped, pulling you as close as she could, her body sweating from the heat and the intensity of the moment.
She couldn’t hold it back. Fuck, she didn’t want to. She just needed a release. She was going to claim you properly after this, give you the pleasure you deserve, but she needed this first. “Oh God!” You practically screamed, holding on to her for dear life, while her movements grew more erratic. She was practically humping you, but it felt so good that you didn’t even care. You just wanted her any way she would let you have her. “Fuck!” She grunted, a short and forceful thrust signalling the beginning of her climax, while she kissed you deeply and it was all you needed to fall off the edge right along with her. Your bodies trembled in unison and you held onto her as you whined, feeling the throbbing of your clit as you came. You felt the way her cock spasmed as well. It twitched in her pants as she released, a sigh of relief falling off her lips as she did. Eventually you both slumped against each-other, the pleasure and the intensity of the moment making you feel drunk and you weakly cuddled up to her, closing your eyes and inhaling her deeply. Natasha felt you fall asleep against her almost immediately and she didn’t have the heart to wake you. Instead, she waited for you to fully relax, before taking a quick shower, discarding her ruined boxers and putting on just her sweat pants and taking her previous spot next to you on the bed, loving the feeling of you in her arms. Her mind was plagued by doubt and insecurity and as she watched you sleep, she wanted to savour every second, too scared that you’ll wake up and realize that you’ve made a huge mistake, that she might have ruined her chance to stay in your life, now that she’d done this. Eventually, exhaustion took over her as well and she allowed herself this moment of bliss, hoping it will never end, only to be woken by soft breathy whines and little whimpers, combined with your sex rubbing itself on any part of her you could reach in the limited space of her hold. Your scent was impossible to ignore in this state and she could smell the beginnings of your heat and the desperate way your body tried to relieve some of the unbearable pressure it felt. You were still asleep, and so beautiful, features dominated by pleasure in your peaceful sleep and she admired your beauty for a long moment, before she decided to wake you. “Wake up, pretty girl.” Natasha whispered, stroking your cheek. “Open those eyes for me.” She encouraged, watching the way you scrunched up your nose, as if the mere thought was offensive. “If you’re gonna use me like that, you have to at least look at me.” She added after a moment.
You blinked your eyes open in confusion, your face brightened up by the sight of her still in your bed, before you realized what you were just doing, momentarily stiffening. You opened your mouth to say something, but you were immediately shushed by a finger on your lips. “Don’t you dare apologize.” Natasha smirked. “I just need to know if you still want this.” She told you, some of her insecurity showing. She knew you were vulnerable right now, the uncomfortable feeling of your heat only growing with each passing second. It would be so easy for her to take you right now. But she didn’t want it that way. She wanted you to be sure. “Natasha… I have loved you for so long, wanted you more than you can know, I’ve spent countless days thinking of you, countless heat cycles moaning your name and wishing you would make it better. Alpha… Please make it better this time?” You practically whined, eyes filling with unshed tears as you felt your insides churning with need. You were sure you would die if she didn’t fuck you right this second. Natasha didn’t say a word this time, pulling down your pants and panties in one smooth motion, gasping at the gorgeous pussy that presented itself to her hungry gaze. You were so wet already, your sweet smell filling her nostrils once more as she ran a finger through your wet folds. “Alpha, don’t tease!” You whined again, your hips canting up for her. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” She said, taking no time in finding her place between your legs and dipping her tongue in your wetness. “So delicious, baby.” She moaned at your taste, immediately needing so much more of it. She took her time cleaning you up first, savouring your taste with every flick of her tongue, before she finally wrapped her lips around your clit, drawing slow circles over it and driving you crazy with the way she made you feel. She ate you like a woman starved, sometimes sucking on your sensitive clit with fervour and drawing deep moans of pleasure each time. She could hardly keep your hips in place, not that she cared much to try, loving the way you rode her face with clear abandon and she wasn’t surprised when you reached your climax with a strangled cry and a chant of her name. “Fuck, so good!” She murmured, after helping you ride out your orgasm. She was just about ready to start all over again, her own pleasure entirely forgotten, even if she was humping the mattress, but your hand in her hair stopped her. “Yes, that was good… But I need you inside me now, Alpha.” You pleaded, your legs spreading even wider for her. “Only your cock can make it better, please.” You practically begged and it triggered something in the older woman.
She pulled down her sweats in one swift motion, showing you her cock for the first time. God, she was big! You could see the veins that ran along her length and the precum that dripped from her tip. She was perfect. And the look in her eyes was ravenous, so she didn’t hesitate for a second, easily flipping you over and putting you on your hands and knees, letting you present yourself like a proper little Omega for her. She rubbed her length at your opening, getting her cock slick with your juices while you squirmed, but her teasing couldn’t last. She had dreamt of having you this way just as much as you had and she needed to finally claim you. Needed to finally be inside you. “Please.” You begged once more, your hips chasing her and the brief feeling of pleasure and relief that she provided every time she rubbed herself on you. “Like that, baby?” She asked, pushing herself against your opening, her tip sliding inside easily. God you were so warm, so wet, so tight around her and it took everything in her to keep her pace steady. She wanted you to feel good, wanted you to enjoy every second of being with her, she wanted to be so good that you’d never even dream of any other Alpha ever touching you. Not that she’d allow it. Now that she had you this way, she was realizing what she was missing all this time and she wasn’t going to ever let you go. “Just like that, Natasha, please!” You gasped, pushing yourself against her and taking the rest of her cock inside you, all at once. “Fuck!” She grunted, her cock spasming at the feeling of being fully buried inside you. “Is that what you want little Omega?” She asked, she teeth gritted. “You want me to ruin that pretty pussy?” “Yes! God, Alpha!” You screamed, her pace picking up quickly. You could feel your ass bouncing off of her with every thrust, her cock hitting deep inside you each time, her hands squeezing your hips in a grip so tight, you were sure she’s leaving imprints and it was heavenly. She was so good. Better than you ever imagined she would be.
“Come here!” She growled, burying her hands in your hair and pulling you up against her. She held you close, her nose buried in your neck and breathing you in deeply. “You wanna be my little Omega? Want me to claim you, baby girl? Make you mine for good?” She asks, biting your neck gently, just scratching your skin, right on that sensitive spot that drove you wild. “I’ll take good care of you baby. I’ll protect you and keep you safe, I’ll make you happy.” She promised, words soft. She could feel her knot forming at the base of her cock, her release approaching quickly and she barely held it back. You could hardly respond, all your thoughts fading into nothingness at the feeling of her cock deep inside you. You just knew she’s right where she belongs, right where you need her most and you never want it to end. “Feels so good! Yes! Want to be yours! I’ve always been yours.” You pant, soft whimpers cutting off your words, as you felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m so close, baby!” Natasha panted behind you. “You gonna come with me?” She asked softly, pulling your head further back by your hair, to make sure that your neck is fully exposed to her. “Yes, so close! Please! I want you to come inside me, please!” Watching you beg her like that was truly the last straw, and with a final, sharp thrust, Natasha felt her knot slip into place, triggering her orgasm. Endless spurts of white flooded your pussy as she felt the best orgasm of her life. This was the best moment she just knew it, her teeth sinking into your neck to mark you for good, while her legs shook and her cock throbbed inside you, making her see stars. Her knot slipping in triggered your orgasm as well and you cried out, a deep sense of satisfaction washing over you when you felt the spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. Not even a drop slipped past her as she still rutted against you, prolonging both your pleasure. But it was her teeth sinking in that really had you experience extasy, a second orgasm crashing over you, right after the first and you milked her of everything she had as you felt yourself being claimed. When it was all over, Natasha laid you down gently and settled on top of you, your bodies still perfectly connected, chests heaving. As you turned a little, trying to look up, Natasha did her best to accommodate you and after look down at you, eyes hooded from lust, she silently turned her neck, silently offering it for you to leave your own mark on her and seal your connection for good. You licked at her neck a few times, feeling her shiver in anticipation and you sunk your teeth into her, just as she had done, hearing her soft whimpers of pleasure at the action and you tried to soothe the wound as best you could, offering her little licks and kisses that she happily accepted, even if each one made her cock throb once more. “I don’t want you going on any more missions.” She finally said, her voice thoughtful. “Especially if I can’t be there to keep you safe. You’re my mate. My love. I don’t want you in danger. I don’t want other Alphas looking at you, thinking they can have what’s mine. Don’t go tomorrow, love?” She confessed, almost pleading with you to understand. “I’ll talk to Steve.” You nodded, placing a small kiss on her lips. “And I’ll talk to Wanda.” Natasha grumbled, remembering the other Alpha and the way she had her hands around you. Her words made you laugh and the older woman looked down at you confused. “What? You think I didn’t see her hands around you, touching your hair, talking to you like that. She can’t have you!” Natasha insisted, more firmly now. “Oh, baby…” You smiled, shaking your head in disbelief. “You really don’t know?” “Know what?” She squinted down at you. “She never wanted me. I know for a fact she has her eyes on a certain robot… But I sure am grateful she gave you a push.” You laughed and this time Natasha laughed with you. “Good luck mating him.” She joked, finally relaxing, allowing her eyes to close in content. She finally had her mate. _____________________________________________________
Dear anon, on the 12th of June you sent me this request... I don't know if you still use Tumblr, I don't know if you still follow my blog, or read my fics, hell, I don't even know if you remember sending me this, it was so long ago... But should you ever see your request and read this fic, I hope you'll enjoy it!
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harunayuuka2060 · 12 days
Text
Akihiko: It took you a long time to fulfill your promise.
Leal: *his trusted friend and husband* My apologies, Master Akihiko.
Akihiko: *smiles* You don't need to apologize.
Leal: Thank you—
Akihiko: However, I expect the utmost service from you.
Leal: Y-Yes!
Leal: *sigh*
Leal's sister: Did you get an earful from your wife—er, your husband?
Leal: Yes...
Leal's sister: It's not like I'm agreeing to him, but why did it take you so long?
Leal: ...
Leal: Master Akihiko and Lady Yuurin came from prestigious and affluent family. You must be exceptional to seek their hand in marriage.
Leal's sister: ...
Leal's sister: You're not that exceptional, brother.
Leal: I know. That's why Master Akihiko helped me to be one.
Leal's sister: Ah... That makes sense now.
Leal's sister: Though you could've just seek for his sister's hand—
Leal: You shouldn't say that!
Leal's sister: Huh? Why not—
Akihiko: Leal?
Leal: !!!
Leal: *slowly turns around* Y-Yes?
Akihiko: *smiles* Nothing. Please continue to enjoy your chat with your sister.
Leal and his sister: ...
Leal's sister: I'm going back to my room...
Sebek: WHAT CAN YOU SAY, HUMAN?! ISN'T DIASOMNIA THE BEST DORM YOU'VE EVER SEEN?!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: No.
Sebek: WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU!
Yuurin: I consider Savanaclaw to be the best dorm simply because I'm a member of it, and Leona-senpai and the others treat me with kindness and respect.
Sebek: Now that you explained it like that...
Yuurin: Though I appreciate you sharing stories of your housewarden. No wonder you admire him a lot.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: Human... I CAN TELL YOU MORE ABOUT WAKA-SAMA IF YOU'LL ALLOW ME!
Yuurin: Sure.
*After chatting for hours*
Yuurin: If there is a Malleus-aficionado, it would be you.
Sebek: *exhales with pride*
Yuurin: Anyway, it's late. I have to head back to my dorm.
Sebek: What?! We will be having a sleepover! You can't just go yet!
Yuurin: I don't have pajamas with me.
Sebek: Wait here! *goes to rummage through his drawers*
Sebek: I've got a spare one!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *after Sebek gave her privacy to change into his pajamas*
Sebek: You don't look bad, human!
Yuurin: Thank you.
Sebek: Let's go! Lilia-sama and Waka-sama are already waiting in the lounge area!
*Malleus, Lilia, and Silver staring at Yuurin.*
Lilia: Ooh~ Sebek~ Are you best buddies now?
Sebek: N-No, Lilia-sama! Yuurin didn't bring any pajamas so I've decided to lend him mine!
Malleus and Silver: ...
Malleus: Well, Lilia and I have prepared activities we could do.
Silver: While I made sure to get the comfiest pillows we have in the dorm.
Lilia: Yes! Let's have fun for the rest of the night!
Leona: Yuurin! Why are you just arriving now?!
Yuurin: It was a sleepover.
Leona: *frowns* *then sighs*
Leona: Would it hurt you to send a single message?
Yuurin: I'm sorry.
Leona: ...
Leona: Tch. Here's a punishment for worrying your housewarden.
Leona: You'll only talk to me with your girl voice.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Is that a punishm—
Leona: Girl voice.
Yuurin: *switches to her feminine voice* I don't see that as a punishment, Leona-senpai.
Leona: It is. Deal with it.
Akihiko: *chuckles* I agree with Yuurin. That is not a punishment, Leona.
Leona: Hmph. As if I could ever punish her.
Akihiko: True. *chuckles*
Leona: Oi, Aki.
Akihiko: Hm?
Leona: When are you going to tell Yuurin you got married, huh?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I will tell her personally. Or she would get the wrong idea. *chuckles*
Leona: ...
Leona: You are in Sunset Savannah now.
Leona: Though, seriously? Leal?
Akihiko: Leal is trustworthy.
Akihiko: And he is scared of me.
Leona: ...
Leona: Yuurin mentioned to me that her brother is a gentle soul.
Leona: *smirks* I guess she's wrong about that?
Akihiko: *chuckles* No. Yuurin has always been a good judge of character.
Leona: ...
Leona: By the way, on Yuurin's debut, what's your plan?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I want her to wear the prettiest gown.
Leona: Ha! We're thinking the same!
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midnightbluebells03 · 24 days
Note
you should totally do reader x abby where she accidentally mentions marrying reader when using her strap on her.
SPUR OF THE MOMENT
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CW - SMUT minors dni!, strap on (R! Receiving), reader is called good girl, talks of marriage (obvs), hair pulling, strap is called a dick once
Readers appearance isn't described (atleast I don't think it is), no use of y/n
About 800 wc
No outbreak
Send me request so I can try and get out my writing funk pls and thx
You can't even remember how long it's been since you two started. Abby came home a couple of hours ago, but since then, you've barely separated. What started as 'innocent' kisses while you made dinner had turned into this. Your face shoved into the softness of Abby's pillow, your legs starting to tremble, and hickies sprawled across your skin. As your girlfriend was positioned behind you with one hand pressed onto your lower back, her strap moving relentlessly in and out of your dripping hole. Dirty blonde hair sticking to her forehead as her sweat pools on her defined muscles. She always said fucking you was her favourite workout. And she meant it.
Abby's hips move at a steady pace, just enough to turn you into a mess but not enough to finish you off. It's purposeful, like all her moments. She just wanted to look at you a little longer, the way your back arched, and you desperately tried to back into her. Stopped by her grasp so all you could do was take what she gave you.
Her free hand comes to grip your hair, giving it a light tug and pulling your head back. Forcing a loud moan that had been sitting in your throat out as her lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. "Such a good fucking girl for me hmm?" Abby coos only getting a whimper from you in response, her grip tightens as she starts to fuck into you deeper, faster. Hitting just the right spot while you moan so loud you're worried about the neighbours hearing.
But as soon she she starts talking you forget all about it.
"I'm gonna make you my wife one day." it's more like she's talking to herself, mumbling in that deep voice she gets when she's claiming you. When her brain goes blank and all she can focus on is the sounds you make. The noise of your wet pussy as her strap continues to make you see stars. If she was any further away you might not have caught it. But the idea alone makes your face heat up and a whine escape your lips. "So fucking perfect for me, need you to be mine". You hadn't really talked about marriage, in all honesty you were afraid Abby wasn't into the concept at all. But her babbling in your ear is definitely clearing it up. "Just mine forever".
That's what sends you over the edge. "Abby!" You clentch hard around the strap, your orgasm rushing over you as Abby keeps talking you through it.
"There you go" she drops your hair as her hands move to rest on both sides of your waist. Pulling you backwards into her as you try but fail to muffle yourself with the pillow below. "Good girl, good fucking girl cum all over my dick".
Her movements slow once you finish, you let out a soft whimper as she pulls out. Leaving you clenching around nothing before turning onto your back. Your forearm comes over your eyes as you listen to Abby move around the room. The sounds of her cleaning and putting away the strap before she heads to your onsuite to grab a towel with warm water are what you've become accustomed to. So when a strong hand taps your leg, you don't even have to look. Just spread them slowly as Abby cleans you up. Peppering soft kisses along your inner thighs as she whispers softly.
"You did so good baby" once she's finished she throws the towel into the bathroom sink, deciding to deal with it later. "Just perfect"
Abby slumps down beside you, breathing heavily still while staring up at the ceiling. Slowly your brain catches up with what she said, you sit up quickly startling her slightly.
"What?" She asks confused, her hand now resting on your lower back. Rubbing small circles with her thumb.
You blink hard, looking down at her. Taking in everything, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. The way her hair is now wavy from being taken out the braid you had ruined. The way she looks at you with such a soft eyes. It makes you melt.
"You wanna marry me?" You ask softly, almost afraid to say it in case she didn't really mean it.
Abby's face turns red. She doesn't break the eye contact between you two as she nods timidly. "Oh um...yeah yeah I do" clearly your shocked expression was making her nervous because she gets this worried look on her face. Eyebrows knitted slightly. "Do you-"
"Abs" you say with a sweet tone. Watching has her expression softens before repositioning yourself to lay on her chest "Mrs Anderson, the Andersons"
"The Andersons" she repeats, pulling you closer and placing a kiss to your head.
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bunnykawa · 1 month
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all mine (sakusa x f. reader)
summary: Big brother Sakusa has to deal with his flirty little sister. word count: 6k? warnings: 18+, sexual themes, incest, noncon/dubcon/rape, voyeurism kinda, some yandere themes, sakusa is delusional a/n: just a little thing i wrote out of nowhere to let out some steam and because battle of the garbage dump got released in japan and yeahh i just thought about my handsome man LMAOO. sorry if it's not that great since it's been like how long?? but enjoy!! also no this isn't a part 3 to my fic from 4 years ago lolol and excuse any of my typos 😵‍💫
Sakusa doesn’t know if he should be mad or not. The glow of his alarm clock is illuminating his dark room with the soft moonlight slightly peeking in through the blinds. He runs his hands through his curls before he sighs and puts his pillow over his face. 
He can hear you. The soft moans and suppressed whimpers coming from plump, swollen lips can be easily heard through your thin walls. If he closes his eyes and really focuses, he could hear how wet your pussy is as you get drilled right next door—right next to the wall, too, because he knows that you prefer your bed in the corner of the room and the sound of the bed creaking is getting unapologetically louder and louder. He was supposed to be asleep an hour ago for early volleyball practice the next morning, but instead he’s listening to you. Every little noise, every creak, every word that slips out of your clenched teeth as you try to be as quiet as you can—”Please,” you beg in a broken voice, “Y-you’re so big, ‘Tsumu.”
’Tsumu; the little nickname that makes his blood boil and all he can think about is how much of a fucking asshole he is. Yeah, he should be mad—he has every right to be angry, he thinks. Sakusa has to see Atsumu Miya’s cocky face and disgustingly bleached hair at volleyball practice every week and now he has to hear the fucker himself fucking his little sister into oblivion in the next room. 
And now it’s getting hot in his own room! He scratches the side of his neck in irritation. Why does it feel like his comforters are suffocating him? Sakusa throws his pillow across the room and rips the blankets off of himself. The tip of his hard cock is peeking out from one of the legs of his boxers, almost as if his body is mocking him for feeling this way—for getting hard at the sound of his little sister getting split open. He grimaces for a second, but the guilt and shame can hit him later. Right now it’s too fucking hot.
So, he’s angry because he hates Atsumu—hates how Atsumu has managed to infiltrate his professional life and personal life in such a gross way. Why is Sakusa bitterly pushing his boxers down around his thick thighs? His cock springs free and he grips the shaft harshly.
“Fuck,” Sakusa mutters. He starts slowly, gently pumping his hand around his cock. It’s warm in his hand and twitching at the small bursts of pleasure, enough to allow a pained moan out through gritted teeth. When was the last time he even had someone over to use their body how he pleased? He wishes he could ignore it—ignore you—but all he does is pick up his pace as he listens to the sound of your cunt getting destroyed and your sickeningly sweet begging for Atsumu to fuck you harder.
Oh, he’s mad—so mad that everything is throbbing from his head to the head of his dick. He hisses at the pain in his temples but it does little to stop him from continuing to fist his cock.
“‘Tsumu!” he hears you cry out. The sound of your headboard slamming against the wall is getting even louder, accompanied by the slick noises coming from between your legs and skin slapping against skin. The room feels like a sauna at this point, but nonetheless, Sakusa squeezes his eyes shut as he picks up speed and fucks into his own hand like a pervert at the sound of his little sister. 
Would you be scared of him if you knew how badly he wanted to be in Atsumu’s place? How he wants to rip Atsumu away from you and make you cum on his cock the way he wants to? His skin is getting sticky from his sweat—his arm is getting tired from how fast he’s pumping his cock, desperate to release his frustrations in a stream of hot white liquid and how he wishes he could paint your face with it. He imagines how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock—if you would beg for him through watery eyes and tear-stained puffy cheeks trying to put all of him in your mouth. Is his cock too big for you? Is your pussy as warm and sopping wet as he imagines it is? 
“I’m gonna cum!” you scream, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Your voice cracks when you chant for Atsumu. Sakusa’s whole body tenses, every single nerve and muscle in his body on fire because damn it, he wants to be the reason why you're screaming and convulsing and crying from pleasure like a whore.
Then with a few more strokes of his cock, he releases his cum in heavy streams that land in a sticky mess on his sheets and lower abs. He groans as his cock twitches against his aching fingers. After a few seconds, he lets go of his shaft and lets it fall against his pelvis. It’s like the whole world has stopped—there’s no more erotic noise coming from your side of the wall. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the sound of labored breaths and giggling. He wonders if Atsumu is going to cuddle you to sleep and stay the night or if he’s going to run away and leave you yearning for more.
Embarrassment creeps onto his cheeks with how fast he came, but as fast as the embarrassment comes, the guilt suddenly settles deep into his stomach, into his joints, into every muscle of his being. Sakusa is disgusted with himself for letting his lust take over during a moment of weakness—lust for his imouto who doesn’t know any better, who is in the prime of her life to fuck around and find out without much of a care in the world, who doesn’t think about the consequences. Sakusa can’t do that like you do, it’s not built into him except for the few times where he did let loose—although he’s not as sloppy as you. Sometimes it feels like you were raised in different households. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him that you flirt and fuck with his volleyball teammates—or anyone that breathes in your direction for that matter. It shouldn’t—but for the first time in his life, he asks himself that if you undress for anyone…then why not for him?
He curses to himself. His expectations are too unrealistic. You’re siblings! And he knows that you both could and should never unless you wanted to ruin your relationship and test your morals. He reaches over to the towel hanging on his desk chair and quickly wipes away the mess he made. A nice, steamy shower pops into his mind, but he’s too tired to wash away his sins.
The room gets colder and his transgressions have nowhere to go, marinating into his skin, reminding him that he’s a shitty big brother for wanting to ravage you from the inside. As his mind goes hazy from how sleepy he is, he also hears a door open and shut followed by heavy footsteps and another door—your door and the front door. A small smirk finds its way across his lips. Sakusa may have a sick attraction to his little sister that he may have recently discovered, but at least he’s never lonely. You, however—
You can never make them stay long.
~
“Omi-nii~!” Sakusa hears you sing, bouncing through the hallways of your shared apartment until he feels you wrap your arms around his naked waist. He’s in the kitchen warming up the leftovers you cooked earlier in the day over the stove, looming over the counter and scrolling away at his phone. 
He scoffs and leans away from you in mock disgust, “Weren’t you sick last week? Get off me before you give me your disease.” 
“I don’t have one! I’m clean!” you whine with a pout, squeezing your arms around him tighter. You press the front of your body against his back, a gesture that makes Sakusa feel fuzzy, especially when you also press your nose against his bare back to inhale his scent. There’s something so intimate with the way you’re not even scared to hold him while he’s not wearing a shirt. His skin is fresh from the shower and his hair is slightly damp. He pulls away to look at you when he notices how nicely dressed you are. 
With a raised brow, he asks, “Where the hell are you going this late?” You pull away from him to adjust your dress. He turns to face you, his eyes going up and down your body with sick thoughts beginning to cloud his brain—sick, twisted thoughts that should have never crossed his mind.
“First of all—” you say, rolling your eyes at him, “—it’s not late. It’s literally only six-thirty, you weirdo.” Sakusa narrows his eyes as he begins to scowl. But despite his obvious look of you better not be going out like that, you happily ignore him. “Second of all, I’m going out on a date!” 
“A date with who?” he asks sharply, folding his arms against his chest and straightening his posture. He always does this to tower above you, to hopefully make you feel smaller than you are. It worked much better when you were both younger.
You bite your lip before giggling his name, “Atsumu.” You seem to get bubbly as his name rolls off of your tongue naturally with a smile playing at your lips and warm cheeks to accompany it. Maybe his heart aches a bit with jealousy when you say that stupid name, a feeling that makes the guilt settle heavily again. The last time he heard you say his name—moan his name—was a few nights ago when he did something no brother should ever do, separated by a few inches of thin walls. As quick as he is to question you, he is also quick to shake those damning thoughts out of his head before they manifest into something more and he ends up losing it in the kitchen you share. He’s scared that he might never forgive himself if he does.
“Since when the hell did you get so close?” Sakusa shoots you another question with furrowed brows. As monotonous as Sakusa usually is, the distaste is present in his tone and his stance.
“I don’t know,” you sigh so dreamily, “It just happened. I didn’t know he could be so sweet.” He could vomit if he had the chance. Out of all people—Atsumu? Really? Sweet?!
“Well, I guess you do have a disease then,” he retorts, sticking his nose up in disgust, “He’s sick in the head, (Y/N). I thought you had better taste in men but here you go fucking around with my teammate—”
“Omi-nii...” you pout.
“—like he’s the only guy you know. I expected better from you,” Sakusa continues with a puff of his chest. He turns away from you to turn the stove off. “He’s always sick, too. Always getting a cold and then going to practice like he’s not contagious.” 
It’s Atsumu taking his little sister away from him that angers him more than he could ever imagine—but it’s also knowing that he will never be the one between your thighs that makes him so disappointed. There’s a silence in the room that creeps up his back.
“You’ve been so out of character recently, Nii-san,” you ponder behind him, placing your finger on your chin to pretend that you’re thinking, “It’s not like you to lose your cool over a guy. Are you…
…jealous?”
No.
He’s just looking out for you—he’s your big brother after all! But he doesn’t know how to respond and stands still, holding his breath. Deny, deny, deny. He turns his head to look at you in his peripherals; you’re staring right at him with the same sweet eyes that he remembers from your childhood.  Maybe he has been out of character—did you really notice? As it feels like some kind of tension is suffocating him and the ground is going to swallow him, you crack a wide smile and start giggling uncontrollably, which instantly makes him frown. 
This is why you two are complete opposites—Sakusa; as serious as ever and always playing the voice of reason like a good older brother, and you; the first to laugh when it’s quiet and always being the fun little sister when things get too serious for your liking. You skip towards him and wrap your arms around him again with the biggest smile on your face, snuggling your nose into the skin of his back. 
“You’ll always be my favorite, Omi-nii. I love you more than any boy in the world,” you hum. He wonders if you can hear his heart beating louder with each syllable of your words.
Sakusa could laugh. Usually he would, before pushing you off and scolding you for getting too close to him. But his heart continues to thump and his voice gets stuck in his throat when your hand slides down his abs and brushes lightly over his twitching cock. It’s not like him to lose his composure like this. You place a saccharine kiss on the curve of his back before you hastily let go of him and walk away. 
You didn’t touch him enough for him to say anything—to reprimand you for touching your Onii-san like that—but just enough for your touch to linger where it shouldn't. 
~
A soft knocking at Sakusa’s bedroom door stirs him awake. He groggily twists and turns under his bed sheets, irritated that someone would wake him so late at night. He hears the ‘click’ of the door knob and the hinges creaking as the door opens.
“Omi-nii?” you whisper gently from your place at the door. Sakusa ignores you easily, choosing to keep his eyes shut in hopes that maybe you’ll leave him alone and let him have his peace. 
“Omi-nii,” you call his name louder and more firmly, “Onii-san, are you awake?” 
What a stupid question, he thinks to himself, but Sakusa figures that you’re not going to leave his room any sooner, so he finally opens one of his eyes slowly to see your head peeking into his room. It’s dark—you’re almost just a black silhouette in his blurry vision, but he can make out your soft and surprisingly tired features just enough. “What, (Y/N),” he groans, his voice gravelly with fatigue. 
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Your voice is timid when you ask—it brings Sakusa back to when you two were younger and you were just as shy to ask him the same question—and the same question is what prompts him to suddenly sit up, letting his bed sheets fall to expose his lean upper body. He rubs at his eye before looking up to gaze at you, clad in a shirt of his (that he begrudgingly noticed went missing months ago) engulfing your figure.
Omi-nii’s shirts are way more comfier than mine, you would whine. He would roll his eyes and snap at you, usually, but would still let you take his shirts anyway. The perverted part of him secretly loves how his clothes fit you.
Sakusa doesn’t ask and figures that it’s best that he doesn’t. He sees the way you’re twiddling with the bottom of his shirt between shaky fingers. He could tell you that he was right all along, laugh in your face, anything to rub it in—instead, he pulls the covers aside and scoots over, creating an empty space for you, just for you.
“Come here,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear. You move instantly, your feet delicately pitter pattering against his hardwood floors. The mattress dips lightly as you climb into his bed. You pull his blanket up to your chin instantly and Sakusa grabs whatever he can get. “Go to sleep, (Y/N).” Without another word, he turns away from you and settles into his sleeping position on his side.
After a few moments of silence, you mumble something Sakusa can’t quite make out. And when he chooses not to respond, you say it again, “Can you hold me, Onii-san?” Then his body completely stiffens in response. He always said yes when you two were kids—hell, even when you were teenagers and it was definitely considered inappropriate by then. Would it be weird if he said no now?
But he sighs, knowing that he can't just say no. He turns around and drags himself closer to you, lifting his arm so that you can move underneath it and press yourself into the front of his body. His breath hitches as you do, an all too familiar heat igniting in his stomach as the curves of your body fit perfectly against him.
When he wraps his arm around you, he suddenly feels so complete and so awful, almost having to hold back on how tightly he wants to really hold you. This time he can inhale the scent of your hair—a mixture of whatever shampoo and conditioner you keep in your rotation and your favorite leave-in conditioner. The skin on your arms is soft from your lotion, your legs are smooth and buttery against him, and fuck are you so warm. He could absolutely eat you up right here if you’d let him. Maybe in your vulnerable state of mind…you wouldn’t say no.
Sauksa doesn’t know what demon has decided to possess him. He’s been thinking too much for the past few weeks for sure. A little earworm is corrupting him, whispering in his ear and daring him to do something and destroy you.
His hands are moving on their own. They slip underneath your shirt—hot fingertips caressing your skin so carelessly and trailing up and down your hips. He wants to laugh because you’re only wearing panties. How obvious can you get? If you were thinking about him the same way he thought about you, you could have just said something.
You tense up at his unexpected touch, but don’t move away from him—you don’t even say a word, not when his hand slides up to cup one of your tits to pull you closer to him, not when he decides to press his hard cock against your ass, not a single word.
Sakusa thinks he’s been too hard on himself recently, especially with how his feelings about you have changed so drastically. You’re not ready for him like that, that much is obvious with how much you’re shivering, but he deserves this after all the mental anguish you put him through because of how stupid you are.
First, you fuck his dumb teammate in the apartment that Sakusa pays for. And out of all the teammates, you choose the one who used to have piss blond hair back in high school and still slurs his words. Second, you have the audacity to touch him and kiss him and tease him, knowing that he can never have you the way that he wants. Third, you wake him up in the middle of the night to sleep in his bed in one of the shirts he’s been looking for for months and just your thin panties that leave so little to the imagination—
“Omi?” you quavered, knocking him out of his thoughts. Oh, he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing you or how rough his grip is on your perky tits. He also didn’t realize how he started grinding himself against your ass, wedging his covered cock between your covered asscheeks in an attempt to feel the warmth from your core. The guilt should have been settling in him again, yet to his surprise, he feels…nothing. All he wants is to hold you down against the bed and wreck your insides until you bleed and beg for him. 
“Omi-nii!” A panicked gasp escapes you and suddenly Sakusa is on top of you, holding you down by your wrists. You gaze up at him, lips parted in shock, eyes so wide, and the first thing that goes through his mind is beautiful. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, leaving you so shocked that your entire body freezes.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, and his words flip a switch in your brain. You’re already fighting against him, desperate to escape from his hold on your wrists and the sins he’s planting on your lips and for the first time in your life you’re actually scared of him. 
Sakusa grips your wrists even tighter and hisses as you squirm, “I said hold still.” 
Then you force yourself to relax with no choice but to let Sakusa explore your mouth. Your hesitation is obvious (of course, it is) and instead of pulling back and knocking sense into himself, he’s offended—out of all the guys you let violate your body, you won’t let your own brother do the same? 
He disconnects from you to grip both your wrists above your head, holding you down easily with one hand. Then his other hand quickly pushes the bottom of your shirt up to your stomach to display your bottom half and grabs the top of your panties. You’re horrified as Sakusa effortlessly rips your panties off of you and throws the shredded pieces off to the side, exposing you to the cold air and to your brother’s eyes. 
Your brother’s eyes. You can feel the bile coming up to your throat at the realization. Your brother is going to do something to you against your will and you can’t do anything to stop him because he’s bigger and stronger than you and you live alone together. As you make eye contact with him, it’s like you can’t even recognize him. You jerk your body away in a feeble attempt to free yourself, but it’s no use.
“Stop!” you cry, ashamed, scared, and so confused, “Nii-san, stop!” 
He splits your thighs apart with his own muscled thighs and you feel so weak trying to close them again, to hide that part of you that your big brother should never ever see. 
But to Sakusa, it’s a sight that he wishes he could see over and over again and he has no problem taking his chances if it means that he can have you—he’s already gone way too far, past the point of return, and he doesn’t want to care anymore about what consequences his actions might bring. A small smirk appears on his face as he looks down at you, so vulnerable and small underneath him. He doesn’t want to waste time—his boxers are already down his thighs and his cock is free. You’re looking down at his cock with pure fear on your face—fuck, he’s big, so big that you’re dumbfounded that he’s even real. But he’s also your brother. You literally grew up together and he still takes care of you and you see each other everyday.
You want to look away but you can’t. Although your vision is blurry due to your tears, you can still see him and only him. “This is why you asked to sleep with your nii-san tonight, right?” he breathes, looking down at you with a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen or noticed before. You’re shaking your head no. Never. You were just sad and needed your big brother to comfort you without asking any questions.
“Stop lying to me, (Y/N). You know what you’re doing,” he scoffs, “I’ll take care of you. Just like I always have.” Then, he grabs the back of your thigh with his free hand to hoist one of your knees up against your chest, exposing you even more than you already are. Before you can even process it, the head of his hard cock is pressing against your entrance so delicately and so carefully but it’s terrifying all the same.
A loud gasp escapes you and you attempt to yank yourself away from him again. Tears are fully streaming down your face now, dampening your hair and the sheets. Your chest is tightening— you’re so scared. You don’t even know what Sakusa is talking about so you're even more puzzled. As far as you know, you’ve been the same as you’ve always been. “Don’t d-do that,” you beg with a crack in your voice, “Omi-nii, please.”
But Sakusa is pleased to hear your broken voice—irritated that you don’t want him to continue, sure, but pleased nonetheless. He’s always wanted to see you like this underneath him and he finally has you. Your legs spread wide open for him to feast on is something that seemed so unobtainable yet you’re in his bed, exposed and ready.
Please.
He pushes through the tight rings of your pussy until he completely fills you up—the tip of his cock is fighting its way through plush walls to kiss your cervix and you swear that your world has shattered into a million tiny pieces. A sob breaks free from your throat.
The room is ice cold. There’s no more air in your lungs as you convulse around him. You can hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears but everything is so silent. Sakusa lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and suddenly everything is okay now—he knows that there was no demon possessing him to think about you in such a dirty way because it was really him all along. All his sick fantasies and insatiable desires, dreams of devouring you, and all those sleepless nights imagining what you would look like with his cock so deep inside you that you couldn’t breathe—it was just him, so painfully in love with you even if he can’t have you. And now he’s inside of you. He’s actually inside of you.
“Fuck,” he curses in a strained voice, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.” It feels as if your mind and body are attempting to recover from the shock of Sakusa forcing himself inside your cunt but there’s no time for recovery at all—hell, you’re both surprised that he even managed to slide into you as easily as he did.
Then he starts moving, slow and steady to open you up more. The sting of him stretching you is enough to make you let out a few wails between quivering lips. You can physically feel your walls shudder around his length and your nerves are practically screaming, ringing your inner alarms, knowing that this is so fucking wrong.
“Get the fuck off of me!” you sob, attempting to jerk your wrists away from his one-handed grip. You’re not even sure when you became so weak, even with adrenaline coursing through your veins. And you’re even more shocked when he lets go of your wrists for a split second only to hold you by the throat firmly.
“You need to shut the fuck up sometimes,” Sakusa breathes with a hint of annoyance. Your shaky hands find their way to wrap around his wrist, nails clawing at his skin, hopelessly trying to loosen his grip. His cock is still moving dangerously inside you, filling you up and then leaving you empty with just his tip, only to fill you up again. The slow rhythm of his hips pressing against yours is tormenting—your skin is crawling with every moment that your hips meet and you wonder if he moved more then would time go by faster? 
Labored breaths and wheezes are the only sounds that you’re able to let out with Sakusa’s hand on your throat. There’s fatigue creeping in your bones yet you feel the energy in your veins and it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes sense and everything hurts and just—why?
“C-Can’t…breathe,” you manage to gasp out. As much as you want to stay awake, afraid of what your older brother might do to you if you pass out, you can see your vision starting to blur and your brain beginning to turn into mush. Your hands are loosening their grip around his arm that’s holding you captive. He’s squeezing your throat tighter and tighter.
You just needed someone—needed your onii-san to help you during this fucked up time between you and Atsumu. Usually he’d be on top of you like this, fucking you until you cry for him and cum all over his cock. You’d moan and drool and beg—anything for him to claim you over and over again. Instead of seeing stupid bleached hair and flirty eyes, you see black curls and dispassionate voids gazing at you as you’re about to pass out and it’s like he doesn’t even fucking care! You just wanted to feel better and to feel your onii-san’s comfort again and he decides to touch you and—
He presses his forehead against yours all of a sudden, and you can barely hear him when his lips start moving. “...What?” you choke out through wheezes. 
“If you want me to let go, you have to let me fuck you as hard as I want,” he repeats himself firmly. You don’t realize that he’s stopped moving inside you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. All you know is that you need to breathe and maybe that desperation is what makes you attempt to nod your head in agreement. A smirk appears on Sakusa’s face and before you can even register what's going on, he’s straightening up to thrust his cock even deeper into your core and he finally lets go of your throat. 
You’re coughing and sputtering, oddly embarrassed at how much saliva you’re spitting out, and you’re hyper aware that you have him inside you again, deep inside you and painfully stretching you to the point where you’re afraid that he’s going to rip you in half. Sakusa grabs the backs of your thighs and presses both your knees against your chest again, leaving his hands there to hold you down once more and to expose your pussy to the cold air. You feel the warmth spread across your cheeks from how embarrassing it is to be on full display and how repulsive it is that it’s Sakusa between your legs to ogle at you as much as he pleases. You wonder what changed between you two—has he always felt this way? It makes you sick to your stomach to imagine that your brother that you love so dearly and looked up to your whole life wants you and it’s diabolical how this is what he wants from you.
And when he starts thrusting harder than before, slamming his cock into you with such a force that your body lurches with his movements, your brain is back to turning into mush and a part of you wishes that you did pass out—at least you wouldn’t have to be conscious to feel everything. You can’t help but let out quiet whimpers and gasps that don’t even sound like you. It hurts—the stretch of his thick cock is so unbearable and his hands on your thighs are sure to leave ugly bruises. 
“You feel so good,” he almost laughs, like he can’t believe this is happening. You are as soft as he imagined, maybe even more, and how easily your pussy starts creaming around him makes his heart skip a beat. When he presses his forehead against yours again, you want to recoil even though you physically can’t. You don’t want to look him in the eyes yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t even know if you can hate him after this and Sakusa knows that—how you love him so much, even if it’s not the way that he wants you to—
—because you need him. 
It’s nauseating how much you still need him. It’s horrifying how your legs are beginning to shake from how deep he is and how he’s shoving himself against your cervix unkindly. Most of all, it’s disgusting how you can feel—even hear—the puddle pooling from your cunt, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his size—and maybe in the midst of your hysterical state, maybe Sakusa feels good, too.
You can’t admit that—you definitely don’t want to—but for fuck’s sake, you know what your body likes and although it’s Sakusa punishing you in the worst way possible, you recognize that tightness in your stomach—the corrupt feeling that makes you scream and cry and beg, that makes your body writhe in desperation to have more. Fuck, it’s morally wrong but at the same time, your body loves to feel full and stretched to its limits. You’re so sad that Atsumu “broke up” with you (you weren’t really dating in the first place) because Atsumu knew your body so well and his dick was huge. You really shouldn’t be comparing since the thought is so sickening, yet the way Sakusa is splitting you open is different—so different from Atsumu with no gentleness, no delicacy, just pure lust and a desire to fuck you until you faint and it’s…better. It shouldn’t be better, shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but it's better.
When the realization hits you, the shame and embarrassment floods your stomach, too—how could you let your own brother fuck you like this and how could you enjoy it? And now you’re angry at yourself, for how Sakusa is making you feel, how your body is reacting, how raw and wet your pussy, how Atsumu blindsided you, how this whole situation is so fucking unfair.
“Omi-nii,” you whine with a dry throat, reaching up to grab his thick biceps, all tensed up and veiny from gripping your thighs and turning them purple. His muscles are so well-defined that you almost forget that he’s your brother and start melting into his skin. The base of his cock is hitting your clit every time your hips meet, sending shocks of pleasure all throughout your core. The walls of your cunt are convulsing around him. It shouldn’t feel good, it really shouldn’t, but the burning sensation on your thighs from having your knees pressed against your chest to expose your cunt and Sakusa carving the shape of his cock into your pussy is the best fucking thing you’ve ever felt in all your years of living. As guilty as you feel for wanting more, you start to beg for him, “Please make me cum, Omi-nii.”
A smug smile plays on his lips. Your pussy is dripping everywhere, making wet noises every time Sakusa moves, and he thinks he’s finally satisfied. Not completely though, because he wants you to squirt on his cock and he wants you to squirt on his cock every night from now on. He deserves it, deserves this, deserves to be the one inside of you and claiming you and pumping you full of cum.
He leans down and captures your lips with his once again, and this time you let him slip his tongue against yours in a messy passionate kiss. When he lets go of one of your thighs to rub at your clit with his thumb and your body tenses up harshly as a result, he sneers at you, “Cum all over my cock, you bitch.” 
Then your cunt tightens around him and you hate that he’s being so mean to you but you cry and scream and dig your nails into his muscles like you’ve never came before because you like how mean he is and the only thing you can pathetically moan is Onii-san~!
He doesn’t stop when you cum, chasing his own high to drown your pussy in his sticky seed and hopefully force another climax out of your body to feed his ego, so he wraps his hands around your throat again while you’re delirious and kisses you again and again. “You can fuck whoever you want,” he mutters against your plump lips, “Think that you know what love is when you have some other loser inside you—” 
 “—but this stupid cunt is all mine.”
425 notes · View notes
bloompompom · 1 month
Text
LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES
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in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious
PART TWO - mine, just for tonight
⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, marijuana, high sex, mild violence, sexual harassment. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~5.3k ⟡ masterlist (2/4)
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Eren wasn’t sure which mistake he was referencing; he’d made more than plenty along the way, whether it was agreeing to this arrangement or letting it get this far. Too far. To the extent that he was certain you had left your indelible mark on him.
All the same, none of it truly felt like a mistake. If Eren didn’t regret a single time he said yes to sleeping with you, how could you possibly be a mistake? 
The only mistake he could foresee was losing you, he thought, so he bottled his feelings. He tried to bury them as deep as they would go, but it turned out he could only dig as deep as a wading pool, unfortunately. 
But having you like this—glossy-eyed and moaning and below him—and only like this was better than not having you at all. 
“I’m—hah,” you panted. “I’m close.”
Eren’s hand on your waist tightened, fingers grasping to keep you there for him, but he didn’t change the pace he thumbed circles against your clit. 
The little room had become too warm to be comfortable. The skin beneath your shirt sweltered and the fabric suctioned to your back. You didn’t bother to take it off beforehand, simply tucking the hem under your chin was enough for what was supposed to be a mid-day quickie. Now it was anything but.
The dorm floor was always empty at this time, making for the perfect opportunity to get together. An opportunity that Eren often took advantage of, especially if it was a bad day. 
He didn’t outrightly tell you it was one of those days, but you sensed there was something on his mind he wanted to forget about, even if it was only for the time he was inside of you. 
Eren towered over you on his knees, his hips angled just right. Yours were lifted from the bed and rolling to meet his thrusts. 
 He looked down at you, eyes dark and smoldering with determination to make you fall apart again. 
Nearly lost in a hiccup of a breath, you moaned, “Come with me,” because you knew he wanted to.
You were right there, babbling a whispy chant of how fucking good it felt until you threw your head back against your pillow and let your orgasm overwhelm you. 
Eren found it equally overwhelming. Gentle flutters of your cunt turned maddening, clenching around the thick of his cock like you wanted to empty him. Three simple, yet hardly innocent, words were all it took to relieve the weight of his impending release. He pinned you to the bed with thumbs dug just above your hipbones, keeping your shuddering body pliant for him to fuck into.
“Jesus—fuck,” he drew out on a strained groan. “I’m coming.”
He rammed into you a final time, leaving your bodies flush with you grinding against his hips, prolonging the pleasure until you were both entirely spent. When he looked at you again, eyes that were once as dark as storm clouds had cleared.
Eren pulled out of you, cursing under his breath at the overstimulation, and rolled to your side. He reached across you to grab his phone, pushing some hair from his face before checking the time. 
“Shit, I’m going to be late for lab,” he said as he shot up from your bed. 
“Sucks,” you cheekily replied. Today was your easy day, ending at noon on the dot. You leaned back against your pillows, watching him toss out the condom and rush to dress. “Your face is a little red.”
“I’ll blame it on having to run to class,” he said, which he would undoubtedly have to do. He zipped his fly, then started doing his belt. “The new TA started locking the door after five minutes.”
You contentedly tucked your arms behind your head. “Then you better hurry.”
“And you say I’m the mean one.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and gave you a once-over. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you?”
You smiled. “Until then.”
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‘Then’ turned out to be approximately three hours later. 
“Long time, no see.” 
Eren didn’t need to see you to immediately know it was you. He peered over his shoulder to discover you were closer than he thought, approaching his table with intention. 
Being that you attended a small-ish college, it wasn’t uncommon for you to run into each other on occasion, but that didn’t make it any less weird. He didn’t know how to describe it, but the feeling was similar to the one you get when you see a co-worker out in the wild—but worse because you were also sleeping with said co-worker. 
Poor analogy aside, what Eren meant to say was he always tried to keep these run-ins short and sweet and strictly business. But that didn’t mean he avoided you, even if he really wanted to right about now. 
Eren sat at one of those long dining hall tables, down at the very end, with Armin across from him. His friend’s presence complicated things for a couple of reasons.
For starters, Eren now felt he was under the same level of scrutiny as an animal in a nature documentary, with Armin at the ready to dissect every sudden movement or stutter. They had made it about halfway through their lunches, which meant Eren would spend the next half getting a free between-classes lecture from Armin about his findings on the encounter. 
By the look of it, Armin—who told the TA that Eren was in the bathroom and absolutely not running late—must have realized what he’d made himself accomplice to. The slightest grimace flickered across his face. 
That was the second reason.
“I was just about to text you,” you said to Eren. You laid your hand on the open seat beside him. “Mind if I sit?” 
Eren gestured a welcoming hand toward the chair. After a brief introduction—Eren introduced you as a ‘friend from class’ though all three of you knew it was a bit more than that—you sat down.
As you scooched your chair in and made yourself comfortable, you began to explain, “You know my friend Pieck?” Eren knew of her, mainly from what you’d told him, but nodded. “She’s celebrating her birthday tonight at The Library—”
“The library?” Armin appeared utterly confused.
“The bar,” Eren said. Armin mouthed an ‘oh.’ 
“Turns out her dad is friends with the owners,” you continued. “They let her rent out the place, so she needs to bring in as much cash as they’d make on a regular Friday night. I meant to ask you earlier but it slipped my mind.”
You said that last bit on a lilt, pointing a smile at Eren that made his ears burn hot. 
“That’s kind of a skeezy spot for a birthday party,” Eren redirected. He wasn’t lying when he said it. The place was a dive bar without any of the charm.
“Don’t tell her that,” you playfully said. “So does that mean you’re both out?” 
“Thanks for the invite, but I can’t,” Armin answered. He looked between you and Eren like he needed to explain himself to both of you. “I have plans with Annie.”
Armin started dating Annie about two months ago. Eren didn’t know her well. She had a tendency to keep to herself. 
“I’ll see what Jean and Connie are up to,” Eren said, because there was no way he would show up alone. 
“Cool,” you said with a satisfied smile. You planted your hands against the table, but before you pushed yourself up, you turned to Eren, throwing in a quick wink as you said, "See you when I see you."
After you left, Armin patiently waited for Eren to say something while Eren couldn’t even meet his eye. 
“You can say it,” he finally sighed, his voice flat and defeated. 
“Say what?” Armin asked. 
Eren saw past his innocent act. He sneered as he listed everything he’d already heard before, both from Armin and the others. 
“That I need to cut things off, that I’m handling this all wrong, That I’m stupid…”
Where Eren left off, Armin failed to pick up. The silence hung between them momentarily before Armin quietly said, “You said it, not me.”
Eren rested his elbows on the table and groaned into his hands. He couldn’t tell if his hands felt hot against his face or if it was the other way around. Either way, he was flustered and left completely unraveled.
Armin was smart enough to take the hint. Whatever ‘advice’ he had for Eren would be saved for another time.
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Connie and Jean agreed to come, not that it took much convincing. They would have probably spent their night there or at some other equally-shitty bar. But they would have agreed to go anywhere if it meant they could finally meet you, the girl they’d been hearing about for ages. If it wasn’t for the emotional rollercoaster they’d witnessed from the sidelines, they would have guessed Eren had made you up entirely. 
Late that night, The Library was packed by the time the boys arrived, more than they’d ever seen it. There was no doubt the bar would bring in its usual Friday revenue—perhaps double. 
Jean leaned into Eren with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you see her?”
Disregarding that Jean was too curious for Eren’s liking, he couldn’t point you out even if he wanted to. It was hard to get a look at—well, anything. The lights were low enough to hide the dingy nooks and crannies, like they believed they could sell this place as anything other than a hole-in-the-wall joint that hosted throwing dart competitions on Thursdays. There wasn’t enough bleach in the world to rid the sickly sweet smell of spilled beer from this place. It permeated the walls and made Eren’s shoes stick to the floorboards. 
Against technicolor flashes of light stood the silhouette of a few girls atop the bar. Three of them, to be exact. Amongst them, Eren made out a glittery smile. 
Eren gave a nod in your direction. “That’s her.” 
Jean and Connie shared this strange look—an offensive one, if you asked Eren. Was it truly that hard to believe Eren had caught your attention? 
The laughter erupting from that end of the bar sounded defiant against the bass. The girl in the middle must have been Pieck—Eren assumed as much based on the birthday crown sitting on her raven-haired head. She held a bottle of vodka between two hands, angling the pourer (a telltale sign the bottle came from behind the bar, with or without permission) so the liquor waterfalled into the mouths of those crowding around her. 
In a sea of faces, between disorienting lights and getting swept up in your Coyote Ugly fantasy, you spotted Eren. You waved high above your head before climbing down from the bar with a helping hand. 
See? He had no trouble catching your attention. If anything, he had a knack for it. 
“Eren, hi!” you shouted as you skipped over. Your face lit up when you saw he’d brought company. Once you were close enough that you no longer had to read lips but could hear each other’s voices, you said, “You must be Connie and Jean.”
You were right, of course. The duo introduced themselves, telling you who was who. Between the words you missed, you pieced together why these two seemed so familiar to you: you had a friend in common, a very good one at that. So you proceeded to gush over your shared love of Sasha Braus—their friend since freshman year and your sophomore-year dorm neighbor turned friend after you hid out in her room during one of your roommate’s meltdowns. 
Eren hung back, watching Connie outstretch his phone to take a selfie with you that would make Sasha totally jealous, according to him.
The introduction was going better than Eren had anticipated. Neither of his friends had accidentally (or intentionally) embarrassed him. Any minute now, someone else would call for your attention, you would walk away, and they could—
“You know, I bet Sasha would love it if you came to the white party next weekend,” Jean said casually—too casually. 
The white party was arguably the biggest school event of the year and it had been for the last who knows how many decades. That was the first thing everyone learned when they stepped foot on campus, and the reason that some, the douchey-frat type like Jean, chose to attend the college altogether. Every year, big-head alumni and donors gathered in the name of philanthropy—a word that sounded pretty on paper but was a thinly veiled excuse to re-live the glory days. But at least it was a party for a good cause. 
As callous as Eren made it sound, that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to next weekend. The event would be held at this fancy-schmancy hotel an hour’s drive away, constructed about as close to the beach as building compliance allowed.
Eren actually attended a wedding there once, in the same penthouse venue booked for the white party. Even with rooftop access, the space wasn’t that large, making the whole affair more exclusive than it already was. He only got to go because Jean was the vice president of the hosting fraternity, which was the same reason he held the prestigious honor of bestowing invitations upon those deemed worthy enough. They (the alumni) had blocked an entire floor for the members and their invitees to stay at the hotel overnight. It would be a bad look to have a bunch of drunk college students driving back to campus, wouldn't it?
Eren wondered what he could have possibly missed in the last sixty seconds that led the conversation to this point. When had it turned so chummy between you?
But you appeared just as stricken, your eyebrows giving it away by springing high on your forehead. Jean waved away your surprise with, “I’m only returning the favor for inviting us out tonight,” though it’d be a stretch to say the two invitations were equivalent. “Unless you have other plans.”
You didn’t. You hadn’t had the time to think about spring break plans with graduation right around the corner. Even if you did, you wouldn’t dare pass up the offer. It was on every student’s bucket list to attend a white party before graduating. 
“I would love to,” you marveled. Glancing to Eren next, almost like you sought his permission, you asked, “You don’t mind if I come?”
“Why would I mind?” The question confused Eren, who was already thrilled by the idea. Though he was mildly suspicious about Jean’s eagerness.
Oh well. That was something he could address later. 
“Thought you might want a break from me, considering this is the third time I’ve seen you today,” you teased, giving Eren a light elbow. In the same breath, you finally addressed Pieck, who called your name a second time after you ignored the first. You excused yourself with a quick, “The birthday girl needs me,” and just like that, you were sucked back into the excitement. 
“Oh, yeah. You’re fucked.”
Eren’s head snapped to Jean. Before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, he felt Connie’s hand slap the middle of his back, hard. 
“Three times? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Connie said with a strange admiration. 
“Once was at the dining hall, then the third time was now, dipshit,” Eren clarified. 
“You fucked in the dining hall?” Connie’s eyes widened. But upon further thought, his face scrunched with disgust. What could possibly be sexy about a musty, century-old dining hall?
Jean knocked on his friend’s head. “Do you even have a brain in there?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I’m using it right now,” Connie defended. “Jean, where would you bang in the dining hall? Personally, I’d pick—” 
After exchanging a look, Jean and Eren went to get drinks, with Connie trailing behind, shouting for them to wait up. 
Exactly two beers later, when Eren decided it was time for a third, you appeared again. You were at the bar, leaned up with an elbow on it, presumably waiting on your order. The only obstacle between you and your drink was some guy vying for your attention. He looked like a douchebag, but other than that, there was nothing else remarkable to say about him.
Eren’s pulse quickened; he could feel it hot beneath his skin. But as quickly as the feeling washed over him, he cooled it with a deep breath. There was no use in getting worked up and jealous over what wasn’t his to begin with. 
That didn’t mean he looked away. He couldn’t. Not because he was curious, more like he was watching a train wreck—the longer he stared, the more miserable he felt, and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight. But as the seconds ticked by, Eren found he was no longer wallowing in his self-pity; something was off. 
He noted the intimidating size difference between you and the stranger—how he loomed over you. You were shrinking, backing away only for him to encroach on your space again. 
Eren hesitated. Were you really uncomfortable or was it that he didn't want to accept what he saw? He didn't know the answer to that, which probably meant he was creating problems where there were none. He couldn't go around making rash decisions off some knee-jerk feeling.
At least, that was what Eren told himself, up until the douchebag placed a hand on your waist, then lower, and groped your ass. You shoved him away. 
Eren couldn’t think of a time he’d seen you like that. Maybe he didn’t even think it was possible; you’d always seemed so impervious to him. But right then, you looked vulnerable. Absolutely stunned, whether it was from your anger with the asshat or your embarrassment from the attention accumulating around you—or both.
That was when Eren realized he wasn’t making it up, the moment your eyes locked with his. They went big, more white than iris, silently screaming, ‘Get me the fuck out of here!’ So he didn’t overthink it this time; he actually wasn’t thinking at all as he pushed his way to you. 
He all but put himself between you and the creep. Your chest lightened a little, you could finally take a proper breath again. Your escape route was in sight: Eren would wait with you until the bartender returned with your drink, then the two of you would get the hell away from here and forget this ever happened.
And that was how things unfolded—at least at first. Eren asked if you were okay, even dropping your name to make sure the asshole got the message loud and clear.
He did. It just wasn’t well received. 
He straightened out as if he believed it made him taller, like he wanted to browbeat Eren with his presence alone. Despite the snort he gave, he didn’t sound amused in the least.
“What are you supposed to be? Her boyfriend or something?”
It would have been perfectly reasonable, preferred even, for Eren to lie then. A little white lie that would do more good than harm. You wouldn’t have batted an eye at it. 
But he didn’t. There was a delay in Eren's answer. In that split-second, he convinced himself that a measly ‘yes’ would get misconstrued. That somehow, some way, you’d hear his confession in that single word. 
Eren’s brows twitched. When he finally opened his mouth, he only managed the words, “No, but—” before the guy socked him in the face.
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“Does it hurt?”
You ran the tip of your index finger over his temple and toward his cheekbone, where a watercolor bruise painted his eye. It was a murky color, the color of water after you’d scrubbed the paintbrush clean, with shades of black and purple—maybe even some green. 
“No,” Eren lied as he winced. The tender skin beneath his eye crinkled like paper beneath your touch. 
You bought a soda from the vending machine in the lobby of your residence hall and made Eren use it as a makeshift ice pack. He did as he was told, but only held it there for a silent minute before giving up. He had it resting on his leg now. 
You took his wrist and brought the can back to his face before it became lukewarm and you’d have to buy another. He flinched again and you whispered a quick apology. You plopped onto your bed, sitting at the edge just beside him, quietly watching your swaying feet. 
You mentioned the silence not because you felt awkward or took it personally but because it was just another fact of the matter. You didn’t mind the silence, not with Eren.
Eventually, he sighed and asked, “Is it bad?”
You shook your head. “It could be worse.” 
After the prick swung on Eren, his buddies yanked him back—the situation would have been a whole lot better if they’d done that earlier. They needed to keep a leash on that thing, and you made sure they knew it, too. But despite your bark, you didn’t want Eren to get his ass kicked by three dudes, so you held him back just the same. You locked your arms around his with a hold no firmer than a shout of ‘cut it out!’ But Eren was one to listen, even to the quietest of pleas. 
A security guard rushed to kick out both boys, warning that he was doing them a favor by only kicking them out—and he was right. Even if it was just a slap on the wrist, it was also an undeserved fist to the face. Though you knew you weren’t at fault, the guilt still weighed on you. The guy who was always there for you, no matter the cost, had done it again. 
“Thank you for stepping in,” you quietly said. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
Eren brushed it off. “I just wish I got a hit in.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t. You could have gotten yourself in serious trouble,” you reminded. 
Eren scoffed. “He’s the lucky one.”
“That right?” you teased. “Because you would’ve knocked him out if nobody stepped in?”
“Damn right.”
You laughed because you knew he was being serious. He smiled for the first time since you left the birthday party. A real smile. Big enough that it tugged at his fresh bruise and pulled a faint ‘ow’ from him. 
“God, I’m an idiot,” Eren said with a dejected laugh—but at least it was a laugh. 
“I know.”
You draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into some sort of a hug, one where you rested your chin atop the back of his head. He looked like he needed it. 
You shut your eyes, smelled his shampoo. 
“What time is it?” Eren asked. He sounded as sleepy as you felt. 
You blinked a few times before reaching for your phone. “Just past midnight.”
He shed your arms. Neither of you addressed the length of the hug. He sat upright and said, “I should get going.”
Before you could think of the consequences, you blurted, “Stay,” stopping yourself short of snatching him by the wrist and dragging him back to bed. You inaudibly cleared your throat. “You’ve been drinking. It’s late. You took a punch for me—” There were a million reasons he should stay. “Please.”
You watched his willpower flicker. His eyes drifted between you, the floor, and the window overlooking the route to his dorm. 
“We could smoke? I picked some up yesterday.” Your voice dripped with persuasion. You crouched to the bottom drawer of your cubby and rifled around. You revealed your infamous tea tin—one he’d surely recognize by now. You held it on display for him, raising a tempting brow as you bragged, “New strain,” as if either of you cared about that sort of thing. 
Eren gave you his answer by pushing open your old, rickety window. You could never manage to get it yourself. 
You began to light the candles spread about your room, all three of them, only burning yourself once. Eren picked a spot for himself on the floor and you joined him, watching as he kindly packed a bowl for you to share. He handed it to you to take the first hit. 
What would normally happen next was easy enough to predict. And it would have tonight, if not for the incident.
Admittedly, it was times like these when you enjoyed sex the most. You liked how you felt then. When you weren’t fixated on the show—the production and performance that was fucking—but when you were made conscious of how the wooden stage felt beneath your feet and how the lights warmed your face and left white spots in your vision. How Eren’s hands traversed your body like he wanted to make topographical maps of you in his mind; the delicious heaviness of his mouth on yours. Time moved slower. You moved slower. Unhurried as you touched and tasted each other, not worrying about the finish line because you had let yourself get lost in the journey. 
You looked at Eren then, straight into his hazy green eyes, with all these thoughts whirling in your mind, and you didn’t know what to think. 
You brought the piece back to your lips, lit it, and took a final, deep drag before it was cashed. You scrounged together any incriminating evidence and tucked it back in your cubby. Eren shut the window and pulled the blinds down while you went to blow out the candles. Their burnt wicks and heady curls of smoke masked the stench well enough. 
Though it was not constructed for two, you squeezed to share your bed with Eren. It’d fit you both before, but tonight, it felt snugger than you remembered.
You slept restlessly, if you even slept at all. Minutes passed, maybe even hours. All the while, you stared at the ceiling, making constellations from its dated popcorn texture in what little streetlight shone from the window.
You suspected Eren wasn’t asleep either. He confirmed the hunch after you flipped to your side, away from him, and he pulled you in with an arm around your waist. His hand nestled beneath your tank top and pawed over the soft skin of your stomach. 
Before you could decide what it meant—if you wanted to leave his hand there or not—he started kissing you, from the cusp of your shoulder to your neck. Long kisses. With an open mouth and nips at your earlobe. You felt every sensation at the base of your spine. Another bloom of fire, another tingle of electricity—they coaxed your back into an arch, pressing your backside against his half-hard cock. 
Not a minute later, you had both slipped out of your bottoms. You were naked from the waist down, in an oversized tee you had hiked out of Eren’s way. His cock lay against the back of your leg until you lifted it, making room for him to push inside you. Deep enough for you to feel the stretch of taking him. Your breath hitched in your throat and left a bleary moan in its wake.
You let him take you then, slowly, with his hand still flattened against your stomach to keep you close. You’d never not used a condom before despite being on birth control. You’ve had your mouth on him, and his on you, but hadn’t felt each other like this. You’d thought about it, of course. How much better it would feel without a rubbery barrier keeping him from you. You craved it more often than you wished to confess. 
Eren pressed a groan into the nape of your neck, his breath breaking over your skin and warming what was already on fire. You reached a hand behind you, grasping and grabbing at him however you could, almost as if you feared he might fade away. Your fingers laced themselves in his hair and you didn’t let go.
The world spun around you, your mind blank to everything except how good your body felt—how good it felt to be full. Practically overflowing. There wasn’t enough room inside you for his cock, buried between your legs and stuffing you to the hilt, over and over; his two fingers, plunged past your lips with the pads of them on your tongue like a compressor; the feelings, big feelings, you hadn’t anticipated. All you could do was burst. 
You came then. Though it felt like lit fireworks or an explosion or whatever silly euphemism was preferred, there was a blissful silence inside of you. 
On the outside, you smothered your face with a pillow. You didn’t want to get in trouble for smoking and breaking quiet hours. 
“Come inside me,” you whispered on a flimsy exhale. It didn’t sound like you. You almost wouldn’t have believed you were the one who said it if not for how badly you wanted him to. You wanted him to fuck you through his release instead of his hand, just to prolong the fullness. 
Eren curled himself around your back, shifting inside you. The tip of his cock began hitting deeper than before. Your cunt squeezed around him, soft and wet and bringing him to climax. He bit a moan into your shoulder, his voice tight as it vibrated through your bones. 
You nearly had to remind yourself to breathe. He consumed you, your every thought, every fiber of your being, if just for a moment. The blunt of his teeth against your skin and the mark they’d leave, his cock throbbing inside you and spilling warm release—it was all so dizzying.
You muffled another whimper with your pillow. 
You wanted to face him, craving to look him in the eyes and kiss the bruise he’d earned for you. The thought made your stomach do somersaults, so you only stared at your desk with your back to his chest. 
Eren’s hand dipped below the blanket. His fingers skimmed along your front, down between your legs. Your eyes flitted shut and a gasp parted your lips. You were hot and swollen, sensitive to the finger he pushed inside you and, with it, his cum. Heat prickled across your cheeks—worse after he pulled your panties up for you. 
You breathed hard and in sync, bodies sleep-laden at last, from your heavy eyelids to your limbs that were too lazy to clean yourselves. But messy sheets and tacky skin didn’t concern you much. 
For the first time, you fucked Eren with more than just your body; your heart was all tangled up in it, too. The feeling terrified you. 
Tonight, you needed him with a desperation you didn’t know existed. Not to satiate some primal desire within you but desperate for the assurance that he was still there and he was okay and he was safe in your bed, with you. 
You didn’t know how it happened, but gradually, yet all at once, you knew exactly what you wanted. You couldn’t believe you had missed it for so long. 
What you had with Eren was such a fragile thing, easily shattered by acknowledgment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved better—if you deserved better—than to go on pretending as though there was nothing between you. 
The answer eluded you but the ache persisted. For now, you would maintain the status quo. You would continue to dance your delicate dance. To question it now would be pointless; your gut was already swarming and you were beginning to think you might overheat.
You kicked a foot outside the blanket and hoped for sleep to come easy, not counting sheep but the breaths against your neck as Eren hid his face in the crook of it. 
The next morning, you woke slowly. You lay there, eyes closed, and swore you could still feel his heat against your back. But when you finally roused, you found Eren had left, and he must have taken your troubled thoughts with him.
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