oh-honeyz

[oh-honeyz]

excuse me while i just get this out but… minors/ageless/blank blogs dni

you’ve been living in a tribe your entire life. watching the strong men with muscles everywhere provide and fight to protect their own. so of course you knew one day you’d have to be picked by someone.

but you weren’t expecting the chief (sukuna) who’s 15 years your senior to be the one who picked you. he’s the best provider and he’s so tall, so strong, so intimidating, he’s only talked to you a handful of times and that’s only of recently. asking you your favorite things to do, who you hang out with, anything to get to know you better. even when he brought you a loincloth from his latest hunt you still didn’t realize his intentions.

you didn’t realize it until the youth pastor toji, wanted to speak to you privately about it all. asking if you were okay with these decisions and everything that was going on. making his way to touch at your thighs.

you swallow hard, “he-he wants me to be his bride?”

toji stops his movements, “i want you as well. i plan to talk to him about it immediately. he knows nothing about you, not like i do.”

you feel dizzy. turning 21 just barely a few weeks ago.

when you come out of toji’s hut, the chief is throwing you over his shoulder and taking you back to his place. your face hot all over but he continues until he’s finally there.

“don’t be with any male alone without my permission, got it?” his rough hands slapping your ass harshly, bare flesh meeting his hand, wetness dripping from your core.

“i…” another slap at the stutter and your legs are shaking.

“say it. i need to hear you say it. tell me you understand.” two more slaps, one against your ass and another one against your core.

“i understand.”

he rubs his hard cock against your bare flesh. “gonna breed this little cunt and make you mine, just so everyone can see you with a swell belly, yeah?”

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #toji fushiguro x reader

[oh-honeyz]

Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?

Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 

Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut, NSFW, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  

Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 

Afficher davantage

#al-haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham imagines #SCREAMING #my man my man my man #<3 #al haitham <3

[oh-honeyz]

Inexperienced!reader sending playboy!geto nudes😋

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x virgin female reader (part 3) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 5.8k

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ part 1 / part 2

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: in honor of sugu’s birthday - here’s an update! I cannot stress enough how much I love writing about these two! This might be one of my favorite geto pieces that I've written so far - thank you for sending over this request, nonnie! I'm sorry it takes me so long to get through them sldkfjslfj 🧡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: character mentions: shoko and gojo, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; sending nudes; clitoral stimulation; foreplay; heavy petting; smut; light angst in the beginning (mostly backstory); mentions that reader gets jealous; just the tip (?); oral mention (m receiving)  

When Shoko introduced you to Suguru Geto, she gave you the following warning: “don’t fall for his bullshit or you’ll be reduced to a number.” 

You found it strange that she talked about one of her best friends in such a derogatory manner, but Suguru’s womanizing reputation accompanied him like a shadow. Shoko felt it was necessary to warn you of his behavior considering he would fuck anyone who caught his interest. 

This was the reputation that you tied to a man whose face you didn’t know, and it wasn’t until you met Suguru in person that you began to understand the allure surrounding his character. 

Geto’s beauty is breathtaking, mirroring a night sky littered with bright constellations. When he laid eyes on you for the first time, he bypassed his way straight to your soul. He held your gaze while he talked, speaking with a natural confidence that dominated the conversation. As the evening carried on, you were convinced that the word to describe how attractive he is didn’t exist yet. 

You could tell that Geto knew exactly what kind of reaction he could conjure with a simple smile. 

You almost forgot about Shoko’s cautionary words until you saw the evidence of her claims displayed as faded hickeys on Suguru��s neck. He wore those marks like a badge of honor, and the lack of shame he felt over displaying them had you wondering if he even cared that anyone could notice.  

“He told me he thinks you're cute,” Shoko admitted to you a few days later, and you tried really hard not to react over how much that flattered you. “I would ignore him though. He’s not exactly boyfriend material.”

You swore to yourself that you would be careful the next time you hung out with Suguru, but you quickly learned how difficult it would be to deflect his advances. As time passed you got to see the man in his truest form. You grew to admire his loyalty and consideration towards his friends which was soon extended to you the closer you bonded with the group. His witty sense of humor had you bursting into fits of laughter, but it also paralleled with a serious side that sucked you into long hours of deep conversations. 

Then one night while hanging out at Gojo’s house, you found yourself in the most precarious situation. You had no idea what exactly occurred that had you and Suguru all alone in the living room, while the rest of your friends disappeared somewhere within Gojo’s large estate.

You remember being on opposite sides of the couch to suddenly nuzzling closer into Geto’s space. The man was a dangerous magnet, and throughout the night had been pulling you into him without you even realizing it. Your heart rapidly raced when he complimented how beautiful you looked, and your lungs stopped working when you felt the tips of his fingers lightly hold the bottom of your chin as he decided to close the gap of space with a kiss. 

The brush of his lips over yours was enough for you to forcefully reel your heart out of that lustful haze. At this point you knew you liked Suguru far more than you anticipated. While kissing him would satisfy many of your desires, you weren’t willing to gamble your first experiences on a man who couldn’t reciprocate your feelings in return. The ache just wasn’t worth it, especially when Suguru had the title “heartbreaker” stamped across his dreamy face.

Instead, you pressed four fingers against his mouth and shifted your gaze down to your lap. 

“Please don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it, Suguru,” you pleaded, unaware of how his face fell at the sound of your small voice. 

Only after you started dating did he admit how much it hurt hearing you say that. His only intention was to kiss the girl that he’d grown to like, but he didn’t realize how insincere he came across until he saw your reaction. He knew he had to change then, especially since he’s made it quite clear to everyone around him that he wasn’t interested in serious relationships. 

Nobody believed that he would be able to commit, but Suguru proved them all wrong. You can never take away the effort he put in to earn your trust just to make this work. You’ve both come so far since the early days of your little cat and mouse game - the question of “will they, won’t they” no longer concerning anyone around you.  

That’s why suguru isn’t willing to lose you over stupid reasons that couldn't be talked out, and in turn you vowed that you would never use his past as a dagger in your relationship. 

This trust is what created a perfect harmony between you both, but there were still unexpected circumstances that tried to cut the sweet melody. 

A few days ago, you and suguru were enjoying a peaceful afternoon together. You were making plans for his birthday when halfway through the discussion decided to take a break and stop by the new cafe that had just opened up across the street from where he lived. 

The first thing you noticed about the interaction was the immediate way suguru tensed up upon greeting the barista. The pretty, pretty girl was taken aback by his presence, her voice breaking when his name left her and she nearly knocked over the tip jar resting by her side. 

Suguru nervously scratched the back of his head, an unsteady laugh escaping him as he stated that “it’s been a while” since they last saw one another.

Meanwhile, the barista blushed furiously as she jotted down your orders. You caught her attention flickering to Suguru’s tight hold on your waist when he pulled you even closer to his frame. Your boyfriend's calm demeanor was soon replaced by fake enthusiasm. He was trying really hard to glaze over the awkwardness of small talk by being casual but you could tell that he was flustered.

Despite his discomfort, there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at her - a natural recognition that unintentionally isolated you from the picture. You didn’t even have to ask what happened between them because you could see the passionate memories flicker across the counter through a mere exchange of glances.

That’s the thing about Suguru - his eyes are so expressive; they show the sincerity of his feelings for you and the brewing heat of his desires. They glow vibrant whenever he is happy and dim during moments of sadness. They expand as his anger rises and deepen on days when his sleepiness won’t leave him. There was so much that his eyes shared with you, but this exchange was new because Suguru has never regarded you like that before.

You weren’t bothered by any of it. 

The hard truth is that you had to acknowledge the fact that there were boundaries surrounding the intimacy of your relationship. While you refused to dangle Suguru’s past over his head, you still couldn’t deny that it played a part in why you’ve been maintaining these boundaries for this long.

You had your own concerns that worried you - what if Suguru loses interest the second he fucks you? What if this was just something he needed to get out of his system...a conquest in which he wanted to walk away victorious?

Even though these were ugly manifestations of your own anxieties, they still plagued your thoughts. You always wrestled with your guilt for reducing your boyfriend’s character to a hollow shell, but you still didn’t have an answer as to why you were so different from everybody else. 

The barista reminded you of that very fact. Her infatuation over Suguru was written plainly across her face. You empathized with her feelings because that’s exactly how he affected you. You were absolutely besotted by this man, and knew that he had the hearts of many others tucked away underneath his mattress. 

Her response towards him poked at your jealousy. You suddenly had an overwhelming sense to stake your claim over him. You wanted to interject the entire exchange by pulling him in for a kiss just to show her that there was zero possibility of any seconds chances coming her way. Alas, these were childish thoughts, ones that would only gratify you but make it worse for everyone else involved.

You decided to sweep it under the rug before intervening at the end. You thanked the barista when she handed you your drinks before leaving a few notes in the tip jar as you said your goodbyes. 

Being the gentleman that he is, Suguru profusely apologized about the situation afterwards. He was far more concerned with your own feelings, and vulnerably admitted that he didn’t know how to handle running into his past lovers with you around. 

“You know I'm not trying to fuck this up.” he adamantly claimed when you both entered his apartment, even though there was absolutely no reason to fault him for what just happened.

For once you found yourself consoling him. You kissed his cheek, the muscles easing all over his handsome face and murmured that there was nothing for him to worry about. His broad shoulders fell with relief, and he held your face before pulling you back in to capture your lips for another kiss in acknowledgement of your kind remarks. 

“You don’t have to worry either about anything, or anyone.”

Whatever envy you carried over his contemplation for this other woman dissipated when Suguru locked into your eyes. Your heart skipped over every other beat, something about his expression coiled hot strings around your veins. This was a look that thrilled and scared you at the same time, but you weren’t able to piece together exactly what it meant.

For the first time in the duration of your relationship, you found yourself countering your own decisions. 

What exactly am I waiting for? 

After everything that happened, were you really going to turn around and keep him at an arm’s length? How many more tests did Suguru have to go through to prove to you that he was yours? How many more reasons did he need to give you that there was nobody else he was interested in?

The instant you returned Suguru’s kiss is when you realized that you had been holding back while your boyfriend has been making extraordinary efforts to move forward. The recent incidents you both experienced proved that you desperately pined for one another, and by now you understood how significant it would be when you have sex together for the first time. 

You wanted more, that is why you decided that you would no longer allow reason to guide your judgement on this particular subject and finally chose your heart to take the lead.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊ ┊    ┊⋆     ┊   . ┊    ┊       ⋆˚               ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

Gojo had dibs on Suguru the night before his birthday as part of his tradition with Shoko, where the trio all rang in his birthday together at midnight.

Gojo asked if you would like to join, but you had other plans to put in place.

Suguru was yours from the afternoon onwards; you were setting the scene for his arrival, quite aware that your impending surprise would be put a twist to his day. 

One hand lightly traces the curve of your neck while the other twirls the string of your silk black robe. Your gaze travels over the silhouette of your body reflecting against the mirror, and floating in the background were strings of black and silver balloons that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom. 

You angled your body in front of the mirror, taking a few strides back until your legs pressed against the edge of the bed. Your heart started thumping in your chest, your stomach twisting into itself as you slowly began to undo the robe. Pulling the silk fabric apart, you shivered when the cold air brushed along your torso.

You barely recognized yourself in your brand new lingerie set. The bra had a unique design, from the front it looked like your chest was covered with an enormous emerald bow. The high cut underwear had two tiny strings that pinched the flesh of your hips, and accentuated your curves perfectly. 

You plop onto the mattress and reach for your phone.

Recalling the exact position from the boudoir photo you found online, you decided to replicate the woman’s pose by extending one leg out and bending the other as you twisted your hips slightly to the left. You hooked your index finger around the string of your underwear, and puffed out your chest to ensure the peaks of your breasts were prominent in the shot. 

You can’t muster up the courage to show your face in this lewd position, and decide to keep the phone safely in front of you to hide your expression. With a few subtle adjustments you began snapping your photos, arching and writhing to change your angles after every couple of shots.

For the next set of pictures, you decided to remove the bra and change your position. With the side of your body facing the mirror, you pressed your chest into the mattress and raised your hips. You held the strapless bra in your free hand to emphasize that you were, in fact, naked at this very moment. You even went as far as to boldly drop the bra altogether, hovering your chest just a little bit higher off the mattress to give suguru a taste of what’s to come. 

The entire process felt like an outer body experience.

Once you finished, you swiped through each individual shot, picking your favorites before editing the photos just to adjust the lighting and color.

You wanted the image to look as striking as possible.

Your throat tightened as you opened up your chat with Suguru. You know that he’s still asleep, trying to recover from the night’s festivities. The last messaged you received was around 3 AM, where he informed you that he made it safely back home.

Just got in. I’ll see you tomorrow.

A brief moment of insecurity takes over, psyching you out entirely but with a quick huff you brushed it aside before typing up your reply. This is something you’ve both been looking forward to for a while, and you were confident in taking the first step over the dividing line. 

Morning, birthday boy -I can’t wait to celebrate with you xo  

You sent the text first, then followed up the message with the photos. 

Blue light brightens your anxious face, and you hated knowing that you’re going to have to simmer with anticipation until your boyfriend finally wakes up.

Minutes pass but it felt like hours. You nervously paced around the bedroom doing minor tasks to keep your mind off the photos. You fixed yourself back to your initial attire, before heading over to the kitchen to check on the cake stored in the fridge. You then called Suguru’s favorite ramen bar to confirm reservations for tonights dinner, before finally proceeding to wrap up his second gift which was a new silver chain.

You returned back to the bedroom, placing the gift on your side table before finally satisfying your worries and picking up the phone. 

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when the saw that the message had switched from “seen” to “read” - but there was no response.

After thirty minutes of silence your chest tightens with regret. You thought Suguru would appreciate your daring approach, but when you tried to reverse the situation in your mind, you realized how mortified you would probably be if he were to wake up one day and decide to randomly send you nudes.

You didn’t even know if this was his kind of thing. You’ve never actually spoken about it before and just assumed with how open he was with his own sexuality that he would be elated by the pictures.

How could you drop the ball on him without taking into consideration that up until this point the man has been nothing but patient with you?

He didn’t deserve this.

Before you allow yourself to fall in such a downward spiral, a frantic knock comes through from your front door.

“Just a minute!” you call out, eyes darting between the cupboard and drawers as you start looking for a pair of sweats.

“It’s me, open up.” 

Suguru’s reply had you running on autopilot with your anxiety on full display. You quickly left your bedroom and make your way over to the entrance of your apartment. Your fingers clench into a tight fist, your nails imprinting crescents in your palms as you nervously opened the front door. 

Suguru is panting; breathing heavy like he’d just ran a marathon. The layers of his hair were falling over his face, unable to stay in place from the way he tied his messy bun. Your gaze shifted to his clothes, a mix match of grey that didn’t quite put together a proper outfit. He was wearing gym sweats along with one of his favorite t-shirts and slides with uneven socks. Your brows lifted in surprise, but as you parted your lips to ask why he looked so disheveled, the corner of his mouth twitched into a sinful grin. 

Suguru straightened his spine, showing off his dominating height as he took a few steps forward. He closed the door behind him, naturally reaching for your waist and his touch instantly reminds you of the indecent outfit you currently had on. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack...” he breathes, pulling you into his broad frame and the force of his strength makes you squeak. 

“You didn’t say text me back, I-I thought you didn’t like it-” you blurt out the second your voice finds it’s clearance. 

Suguru doesn’t let you finish. One hand moves to hold your face, while the other tightens its grip around your waist. His lips are on yours instantly, it’s a soft kiss at first until he parts your mouth and slides his wet tongue along yours. You reach for his wrist, tracing your fingers along the smooth beads of the bracelet you bought him when you first started dating. Your nerves wither away, and he only leaves your sweet mouth when he feels you melt into his embrace.

“Are you supposed to be my present? Or was it just the photos?” he chuckles adorably then follows his question by kissing the tip of your nose. 

“I’d like to be,” you mumble against his lips. “I just want to make this day special for you, Sugu.” 

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, and he holds you tenderly as he presses his forehead against yours. He sighs with relief, closing his eyes for a moment and keeping his smile.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to handle you spoiling me like this,” he teases, then reaches for your hand to guide you back to the bedroom.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊ ┊    ┊⋆     ┊   . ┊    ┊       ⋆˚               ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

Suguru’s fingers knead your plush thighs straddled over his hips. I’m so lucky, he thinks, I’m so lucky you’re mine. He rests his head against the bed frame, the strands of his freed mane circling his face like an obsidian halo. He hums at the sight of your perked breasts pushed up by your bra. His thumb and index finger rub the satin fabric of the bow and his eyes twinkle with appreciation. He’s quite pleased that he’s earned this…that’s he’s earned the right to see how cute you look like this. 

“Look at you,” he whispers in disbelief, snaking his bottom lip between his teeth as he studies you with care. His index fingers hook around the strings of your underwear, and he retracts the material before releasing it just to hear the band snap against your skin. 

You reach to squeeze his shoulders in response.

“Do you like it?” you ask politely, referring to the lingerie set even though your boyfriend’s mind is focusing on other things. 

Suguru sighs once more before circling his arms around your waist. 

“I like you. Everything else is just the cherry on top...” 

He arches forward to softly peck your collar bone, then guides his mouth up your neck to plant another kiss underneath your jaw. 

"I can’t stop taking you in,” he mumbles. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. You’re so perfect...”

You exhale quietly. You can feel your body turn into liquid in his embrace as your stomach flutters. You reach for the nape of his neck, lightly scratching the back as you open your lovestruck eyes to soak in his beauty.

“You are too, Sugu.” 

Your precious reply has him searching for your lips to taste your honeyed voice, and he happily swallows the pretty moan that follows. Your fingers thread between the strands of his hair as you allow him to kiss you with unrestricted passion. Tangled tongues interchange with tender bites when two hands suddenly reach for the hooks of your bra. You don’t stop Suguru when he unfastens the band or when he slowly pulls the material away from your chest. You’re too busy devouring his kisses like a hungry kitten while your arousal pools between your legs from the sensation of his mouth alone. 

You can’t imagine it feeling better than even though this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

“I need to know...” Suguru interjects, his breath hot and heavy as he tries to even it out. “I need to know when you want to stop-’

“Don’t wanna stop,” you pout with a shake of your head, your mumbled reply laced with disappointment when he tilts his head away as he raises one brow.

“Are you sure?” 

“Mhmm, more than anything….” 

“But…what changed your mind?” 

You track a line down the bridge of his angular nose, the pad of your finger tapping his cupid’s bow and you lean in to retrieve the kiss you sought out earlier. 

“You did.”  

“Huh,” he contemplates, “I guess...I guess we are doing this then…” 

“Yeah...” you sigh into his mouth as you gently rock your hips. “I guess we are.”   

Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, nodding his head mindlessly at your consenting words.

“Fuck, okay…can-can we just slow things down for a second...” 

He leans back slightly so he can get a better look at you and something twists in his lower belly from your dazed expression. He motions to hold your face in his hand, his thumb swiping over your puffed bottom lip and dragging across a tiny string of saliva. He nearly melts into the mattress beneath him when you absentmindedly kiss the tip of his finger as your eyes fall heavy. 

You have no idea what you are doing to him right now.  

Suguru wants to eat you right up, keep you in place as he allows himself to savor every inch of your bare skin. He takes another second to find the motor controlling his restraints, holding himself back from suddenly caging you beneath him and fucking you until you were a blubbering mess. 

He leers at your chest, bringing one large hand to cup your breast which makes his mouth dry up like he swallowed a ball of cotton. You naturally try to curl away, but stop when his thumb drags over the peak of your mound and delicately brushes your nipple. With nothing but sheer adoration blinding him, he repeats the action a few times until he feels your nipple pebble against his touch. Your lashes flutter like small bird’s wing, and he brings his fingers to the tips of both your breasts to massage both nipples.

“God, look at your fucking tits, sweetheart…” he rasps in between fondling you, “m’pretty girl…you’re more gorgeous than I imagined...” ”

You’ve seen the many faces of his lustful appetite but none of them compared to this. Your clit throbs from the praise; you don’t know how far he’s planning on going tonight, and your thighs clench with anticipation from how sensitive you were feeling already. 

Suguru takes that as a queue to observe the space between your legs and his cock twitches at the darkened patch on your underwear.

“Turn around, sweetheart. Back to my chest.” 

The strong tone of his command sent shivers up your spine. You nod your head, leaving one last kiss on his cheek before shifting your position until you were seated comfortably right in front of him. He groans when your ass rubs over his erection, and you stop yourself from moving when when his hands grip your knees. Flushed against his chest, Suguru drops his chin to your shoulder and caresses the side of his face to your cheek. He runs his nail beds back and forth, before finally extending his fingers and spreading your thighs a little wider. 

“This isn’t going to hurt, I promise. Just relax f’me okay?”

You nod your head, your eyes focusing on your boyfriend’s hands as you watch him lift the strings of your underwear just a little bit higher. The material pulls against you, outlining the shape of your slit and you whimper when he slides one hand underneath to compress his fingers into the fat of your left hip. 

His other hand teases you, knuckles brushing over your lower belly and your stomach sinks from the ticklish sensation. He motions his index finger along the thin band of your underwear, and at a painfully gradual pace begins to direct himself closer to your clothed pussy. 

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning as his chest pinches at the sound of your breath wavering from the contact. 

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he points out in surprise, “Ugh, I haven’t really touched you yet...”

Your nose bumps into his when you angle yourself to face him. Your speaking into his lips, one hand gliding up to hold the back of his head as you sigh out your reply. 

“M’always wet whenever we kiss,” you admit shyly.

Suguru’s brows pinch together in frustration and he prods his fingers deeper into your hip. 

“Shit, I’m on a short trigger right now...” he snarls, while simultaneously turning his head back so he can get a proper look at your cunt. “...I won't last long if you keep talking like that.” 

He curses again under his breath, tugging your underwear aside only to find your glittering slick catch onto the material. He licks his lips eagerly, thrilled to know that he would eventually get a taste of this untouched fruit. He takes in the shape of your lips, and you whimper when his expert fingers press against your labia as he lewdly spreads you open.

Your weeping hole drips honey; the man has half a mind to push two fingers inside you to feel you suck him in, but he would have to save that for another day. He can see how responsive you are, and the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you with too much stimulation.

You’ve given him the access, and he wasn’t going to abuse his privileges. 

He gathers up your arousal with two fingers then finds your clit. The pressure is gentle at first as he lubricates the bud, massaging in a circular motion while loosening his hold on your hip. Your back arches against his ministrations as he maintains his steady pace. His free hand floats up along your ribs until it tweaks your hard nipple. Your voice trembles when you whine, and you hold onto his legs for more support as you begin to roll your hips into his hand. Suguru can feel himself tenting in his sweats, and he pinches your clit before switching to broad strokes to tease your vulva. 

“Like how that feels?” he coos into your ear. 

“Mmph, yeah...” 

“Going to train this pussy to take my dick well, stretch you out nice and good so that’s all you feel when I’m inside you...” 

He won’t admit that it can’t happen yet - the man wouldn’t be able to control his natural impulses with your submission. All of this was equally as overwhelming for him. God knows how long he’s waited, how often he relieved himself with a firm grip around his dick just picturing what was playing out before him. 

He presses his finger against the opening, ghosting over the hole l to tease you. Your hips buck into his hand, and Suguru pulls at your nipple in response. He presses his lips to where your neck and shoulder meet, sucking on your skin until a blemish breaches the surface.  

“You’re all I want, all I fucking need...” 

“Sugu...” 

He rolls your nipple between his finger, his touch returning to your pulsing clit as he tenderly works the bud. 

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me...don’t want anyone else,” he carries on, the words spilling out of him faster than he can think. 

“Suguru, shit-ah...” you quiver, the ache in your core tightening your abdominal walls and the build up has you gripping the back of your boyfriend’s hair roughly.

His lips stay against your neck, wet open-mouthed kisses sweeping your skin and he molds his hand over your breast to latch onto you. His fingers are moving faster now, and you pull your legs further apart as you grind your hips. When his mouth finally finds yours, he leaves just enough space for you both to share breaths.

He knows how close you are. There is no way you would be able to hold off the way he likes just yet - it doesn’t matter if you’ve done this before on your own because Suguru’s touch is still so unfamiliar.

“Sugu, sugu...god, I’m gonna-m’gonna...” 

He silences your angelic voice with a kiss, coveting each and every sound that you have already given him, and knows that he is about to push you over the edge. 

A few more strokes do it; the all consuming feeling has your body contracting, he can feel your muscles pulse when he cups your pussy in his hand. Your hips thrusting into the air as you fight through the waves of your pleasure. 

“Easy, sweetheart, easy...” Suguru laughs into your neck. He holds you until you settle back against his chest, and you try to catch your breath while coming down from your high. 

A few minutes pass until Suguru unwraps his arms around you. He falls back against the pillows, closing his eyes as he subconsciously squeezes the outline of his prominent erection and groans with exasperation. 

The bulbous head of his cock leaked so much pre cum it stained through the front of his gray sweats.

“Sugu?” you call out, and he notices how heavy his head feels when he opens his eyes. 

His thigh muscle twitches underneath your palm. Through a hazy lens he sees you on all fours, your face angling itself over his cock.

You quickly glance back to look at him from under your lashes. 

He sees what you want to do, but his throat tightens like someone had just poured thick honey down the hatch. He blinks away the seconds, watching your curious hands roam underneath his top, and he feels your fingers hook around his sweat pants and boxers. 

“Your turn, birthday boy...” you say in a cheeky voice. 

Suguru moans and it sounds like he’s an actual pain waiting to be alleviated. He raises his hips as you help remove the fabric constraining him and he catches the way your eyes circle into orbs watching his impressive length spring out of his boxers and slap against his lower belly. 

Suguru knows he’s big - his past lovers never complained about what his genes graciously gifted him, but he can practically see the thought “how’s that going to fit” run through your mind when you stare at him like a deer in the headlight. 

You drop his clothes to the side, your apprehension creeping back as your jaw goes slack fixating on his length. Protruding veins run up the shaft, his cockhead a deep purple dribbling with cum. He isn’t neatly trimmed as usual, pushing off his upkeep since he had no reason to be obsessive about maintenance. 

“You don’t...” he grunts, thinking he can just quickly take care of himself to avoid pressuring you, “you don’t have to do anything-” 

You return back to all fours; resting your cheek against his inner thigh while Suguru observes you with curious eyes. He watches you wrap your fingers around the base, giving him a few soft pumps, before leaning forward and licking a stripe up the underside. Your mouth finds the tip, and you kiss the head lovingly before sucking over the slit. 

“You’re beautiful, Sugu,” you sigh dreamily.  

Suguru’s hands catches the bedsheets. His eyes shoot wide open to gaze at the rounded balloons above his head. Your mouth parts, and you take him, carefully widening your jaw as you lower down to swallow every inch. 

“Just the tip...just the tip for now,” your boyfriend sobs, his voice cracking upon making his second demand. 

He didn’t want you to overestimate what you can handle, and he wasn’t stable enough to maintain any composure about fucking your throat. 

You release the head with a little pop, leaving soft pecks on the side as your other hand grabs the weight of his heavy balls. 

“Tell me what to do,” you request, any uncertainty in your voice veiled by your confidence to please him. 

“Suck on it - like what you j-just did,” he informs, one of his fingers moving to trail the shell of your ear, “and just keeping pumping at the base...ugh, fuck...yeah, just like that...” 

You follow his instruction well, your lips swallowing the tip as your tongue rolls around the head like a lollipop. You jerk him off at the same time until you find your own rhythm that suited you. The warmth emanating off of his body blankets him, and he literally feels his soul grow malleable inside him. Suguru moans your name over and over again - it sounds like a prayer on his lips as tears prick his eyes. You don’t stop until thick ropes of of cum release into your mouth, and a flash of white blinds him as you deliver him to salvation.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

tag list: @damn-geto @pensivespecter @ekaterinatepes @jelly-jellx @lollipopd @shuxjodie @mikasackrmann @alreadyblondenow @nanamikentcs @aizumie @mrsmorgenstern @artemisthestar @velvetlight333 @sluttoru @smoothy-ve @bisexualwomanofcolour @bloombb @sleepygeto @dont-ask-me-pls   @half-baked-biscuit @kreishin​

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x female reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto smut #geto x reader #geto x female reader #geto x you #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto <3

[oh-honeyz]

Playboy!Geto Suguru x Inexperienced!Female Reader - “I’d take such good care of you.” 

TAGS: not.sfw, soft smut, fluff, corruption kink, virgin!reader 

A/N: The dialogue line was taken from a smut prompt list but I accidentally copied the link to the wrong one and can’t find the original post >.< In my head Geto is more of a player than Gojo is - and I can’t let go of the idea of Playboy!Geto but also can’t stop thinking about him being absolutely whipped for somebody so innocent (it’s turning my brain into complete mush). Here’s just one of the little scenarios sitting in my head as of now. If you’re interested in requests please check out what I’m accepting by reading the little blurb on my navigation post! xo - (minors and ageless blogs do not interact)

Afficher davantage

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #geto suguru #geto x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto <3

[oh-honeyz]

OAKIE BBIE ! congrats on 300 million gajillion woooo 🥳🥳🥳🥳 !! m here for ur littl event mweheheh :3:3 cld i ask for al haitham ++ D, I, nd K from da nsfw alphabet pwetty pls !

COCOOOO WAHH THANK U!!! <3333 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ and yuuusss ofc huehuehue

a part of my ongoing 300 milestone event!

[ ❥ ] AL HAITHAM + D, I, & K !

[N]SFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI! cw exhibitionism, threesome mention, creampie/breeding mention, dumbification, fem!reader

— d ; dirty secret!

alhaitham would never admit it, but the thought of kaveh catching the two of you in the act is something that makes his heart race. it's why even when he hears the telltale knock at the door, signaling his roommate's return, he doesn't stop ravaging your body—in fact, he tries even harder to pull the sweetest of melodies out of you. you're too wracked with pleasure to even notice.

he also thinks that sharing you with kaveh might be a thing he would be into. he'll never say it out loud, though.

— i ; intimacy!

ohhhhhhh, he is sickeningly romantic. for someone who seems so... carefully neutral all the time, once he falls in love with you — you've got him wrapped around your little finger. this is especially true when it comes to sex: he prefers positions where he can look at you and watch you fall apart around him.

— k ; kink(s)!

breeding. first thing that came to mind, methinks. nothing beats the sight of his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. it drives him insane—and to him, nothing is more logical proof that you are his and his alone than this.

this also may be me projecting but i think he would be a lil' into dumbification. reducing you to a babbling mess is his end goal—nothing says his baby is feeling amazing more than the pretty crystalline tears that run down your cheeks as you mindlessly cry out his name!

"h-hai—thaaam!" you squeal, fingers clutching at alhaitham's broad shoulders as he pounds you into the mattress, his bodyweight heavy on top of yours. he grunts in response, the lewd squelching of your pussy loud in your ears as he just doesn't stop.

"you can take it, darling. just one more for me," alhaitham rumbles above you, grabbing your hands in his to intertwine them tightly as he folds you into the plush comforter.

"please, please, s'too much!" you wail, tears of pleasure gathering in your eyes as you feel every drag of his cock in your gummy walls. it's driving you insane. alhaitham presses his forehead to yours before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

it's when he hears it—the jingling of keys at the front door, a gentle knock, kaveh's faint voice announcing his arrival—and he suppresses a grin as he nips at your bottom lip.

"just a little bit more."

he punctuates his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure. the sight is lovely, he thinks, his darling girlfriend reduced to a complete mess underneath him.

he lets go of one of your hands in favor of playing with your clit, drawing tight circles on the sensitive nub. the sensation has you seeing stars and you don't know how much longer you'll last like this.

he has you creaming so prettily all over his cock in no time, a satisfied smile on his face as he holds you close through your orgasm. the sight is burned in his memory—and he thinks that he would do anything just to keep you here with him, even if it meant bringing down the moon and the stars and the planets, all for you.

hehe. dik

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

[oh-honeyz]

Day 31: Vampirism with Alucard Tepes

Warnings: yandere, dubious consent, vampire, blood, ooc Alucard

Taglist: @actuallysaiyan @loki-love @the-eternal-sunflower

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! I wanted to do something a little spooky for Halloween, so here it is!

Your lover had warned you of his insatiable thirst for blood. He’d told you that the closer the two of you became, the more he longed to taste you. Even more so, the signs had been there. You’d ignored them. Writing it off as affection when his mouth lingered on your throat a bit too long or he held your wrist to his nose to take long, greedy sniffs. It had never occurred to you that all along Alucard was simply feeding his own desire. He’d take in the scent of your blood and relish hearing it pumping through your veins. 

No, you’d trust him so implicitly it had never once occurred to you that he might lose this fight. It never crossed your mind that he might decide he deserved a taste. 

Your own foolishness had gotten you into this position. Low hanging branches tear at your clothes as you run for your life. The silence of the dark night is only broken by the growling of the white wolf chasing after you. It’s glowing eyes don’t miss a single move you make through the woods. 

You keep running until sudden you trip over a large tree root. Just before you hit the ground, a pair of strong arms catch you. Usually it would be a relief to find yourself in the arms of your lover, but now your heart rushes with fear. His eyes glow red as his long blond hair spills in front of his face. Your eyes are drawn to the pearly white fangs exposed through his grimaced lips. You swallow hard as you stare at them. 

“Why would you run from me, darling?” Alucard pouts. “Didn’t you promise to stay with me forever?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to pull away from him. Alucard squeezes you tighter, holding you flush against his chest. He leans in close enough for you to feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper. 

“Oh, my sweet lover,” he coos. “Of course I won’t hurt you. I just need to taste you.” 

“But…” 

“Shush, little dove. Relax,” he kisses you softly as his thumb drags across your pulsing jugular. “No, I won’t hurt you at all, my little dove. I only wish to have a drink.” 

You don’t feel secure with this promise. Just minutes earlier, he had you cornered in the castle and was expressing his desire to drain every last drop of your precious blood. He’d been wild with thirst, and in a moment of sanity he’d told you to run. You had been so deep in the woods you feared yourself lost when you realized he was chasing you. Now, he’s caught you. You’re but prey ensnared in his trap. 

“Adrian, please. I love you so much,” you whimper. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

“It won’t hurt a bit,” he coos softly. 

He pushes your skirt up around your thighs, and his long fingers toy with your slit. You try to push him away, but it’s no use. You find yourself growing weaker and weaker to his touch. He pushes your panties aside and his fingertips circle around your clit. Just as you’re starting to moan with pleasure, you feel his fangs scrape against your skin. He kisses your neck softly, but it’s just a ruse. As soon as you relax, his sharp fangs pierce your skin. You cry out, but you’re too weak to push him off of you. Alucard moans with unbridled pleasure as he begins to drink from that beautiful vein. 

“Please,” you manage to squeak out. 

He only moans in response. Your vision is starting to fade by the time he’s had his fill. When you lose consciousness, you’re quite sure you’ve died. 

Then, you wake up the next morning tucked into the bed you’ve shared with Alucard over these last few months. His cool hand soothes gently over your cheek as he coaxes you to wake up completely. You bolt upright, and you think it was all a bad dream until you reach up and feel the bandage around you neck. There’s one around your thigh as well and one of your wrists. 

“See, my darling,” his velvet voice echoes. “I told you it wouldn’t hurt. You hardly felt a thing.” 

#alucard x reader #alucard tepes x reader #castlevania alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader

[oh-honeyz]

Kia darlinnngggg 🥰 so ik you've been simping over tomoe lately soooo I have a request ~ how about smth to do with heat? Perhaps the reader is a yokai as well, having gotten herself turned into one to be with him, not necessarily a fox yokai ( ahem I'm giving you free reign, rabbit and deer are optional bc ik you love those dynamics ) but it's her first heat with him? She's feeling all hot and bothered and doesn't know what to do and Tomoe is both trying to guide her while also trying not to lose it because he's in heat too? But yknow, he fails at the latter hehe

──── 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I actually had the theme song for this stuck in my head all around Ikea today lol. My first time writing for Tomoe so you bet I made our fox man feral, horny and mean <3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Tomoe x yokai bunny! Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 0.8k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, MDNI, smut, heat cycles, breeding, 'bunny' pet name, creampie, marathon sex

He had told himself that the two of you wouldn’t end up like this and yet here you were: pinned beneath his weight with your belly flush to the sheets, your head pushed down with a clawed hand on your nape and your hips angled upwards, Tomoe’s aching cock pounding into your little cunt over and over again without mercy. When you took on the features of a bunny after becoming a yokai to always be with him, Tomoe had expected that you would end up experiencing a heat similar to his own. Your white-haired lover had warned you of what would happen, had prepared all sorts of herbal remedies meant to help suppress your urges and yet none of it had been enough to make you resist pushing your hand down your pants to try and sate the need between your thighs, moaning unabashedly and unintentionally provoking your partner who had been doing a much better job at hiding his own heat until he heard you moaning his name so sweetly and desperately. 

You had been on your hands and knees earlier but they had since buckled beneath you as you let out little sobs that were a strange mix of overstimulation and relief. Your arousal had already been leaking down your thighs by the time Tomoe found you, teary-eyed and begging him to bury his cock inside of you, feeling so empty without him that it hurt. It had spent the last shred of his restraint and he had been quick to pin you down. Your clothes hadn’t even been discarded initially but now they were tossed all over the room between switching positions and your face burned at the sound of Tomoe repeatedly pounding into you, set on releasing his cum inside of you time and time again, even if it was already leaking out of you and making a mess of the sheets. 

“You just don’t listen do you?” His tone was almost a growl in your ear as his nails bit into the skin over your hips, holding them firmly in place so that you had no escape from him. “I gave you everything I could so that we didn’t have to end up like this and yet you thought you knew what was best.” You let out another sob at three particularly harsh thrusts in a row and yet your cunt tightened around him, “So, bunny, you can keep on crying and take it seeing as you were so sure that this was what you needed.” He pushed more of his weight down on you, leaving you with absolutely nowhere to go and making you take the full force of each thrust. 

The way that the mixture of your cum had him slipping in and out of you with such ease was paired with the obscene sounds of your walls stretching around him and the smack of his skin against yours. You noticed how his moans had become much more vocal, more than aware by now that this meant he was close to an orgasm. You felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck and you were almost certain that he would bruise your poor pussy at this point, “You’re going to take it all…” His voice husked by your ear, “Such a good bunny, you’re going to take it all for me. Help me through my heat, I help you through yours.” His arms wrapped around your body as you were tightly sandwiched between him and the bed, feeling his hips stutter and then slow before stopping entirely, feeling the throb of his cock more so than the spill of his hot cum inside of you considering how stuffed full you already were. 

“Let’s… rest a while, my love.” He panted out, a hand reaching up to tenderly and lazily play with your hair and stroke your ears which had flopped down over your head in utter exhaustion, “It’s been hours…” You could only let out a hum of agreement. 

You felt drenched between your thighs, your skin sticky with sweat, stiflingly hot with Tomoe’s damp skin pressing down on you. Your hair was in tangles and his own white tresses fell over your face, making you shake your head a bit to move it away from where it had been tickling your nose and tormenting your lashes. 

What a mess the two of you had got yourselves in. 

“And you said this would last a week?” You let out a little yelp when you felt his cock push into you once more. You had seen the recovery speed that his heat gave him and yet you had not expected him to continue after suggesting a break, “Wait! Tomoe, you said-” 

“I know what I said and I take it back, I’m not done with you yet, my bunny~” 

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not: 

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@edensrose @asuni921

#kamisama hajimemashita x reader #kamisama kiss x reader #kamisama hajimemashita #kamisama kiss #tomoe x reader smut #tomoe x reader #tomoe smut #tomoe #mylove #screaming

[oh-honeyz]

⁺　 ୨୧ . ᕀ sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything ˚ | ꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ᨀ ꒱ minors do not interact ᨀ w.c ˓˓ 2k explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes [ ahegao, internal view / satoru uses his six eyes during sex ], spit kink, creampies, messy sex, squirting, mating press, fingering [ f!receiving ] + lollynote ! this is jus a quick lil unedited thirst bc i miss my darling love n miss writing.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?” 

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you. 

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied. 

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.  

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see. 

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.” 

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel? 

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords. 

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.” 

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?” 

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.” 

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.” 

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?” 

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze. the affect it has on gojo

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm put my gonna cum right here, ” he babbles desperately,  a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f' me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?.”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-” 

“shut up, angel face. you're about to make me miss the best part of the movie.” 

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[oh-honeyz]

Heat haze ft Morax + fem!bunny adeptus!reader

cw/tags: heat/mating cycles, marathon sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao), Morax has a dragon penis, pet names, fucked stupid, reader calls Morax "My Lord" and Morax calls her "my child", power play??

notes: Pure self-indulgent filth <3 I love the concept of heats in general and though on applying that to adepti, then I remembered it's bunny year so why not... apparently there is a bunny in chinese mythology called the "Jade Rabbit" who serves the Moon Goddess soooo. Anyway. Breeding kink goes brrrrrr.

“M-my lord... I’m sorry I’m ah-” You gulp and try to breathe through your mouth, fingers clenching and unclenching trying to regain some semblance of stability. “I’m not feeling very… well”

Shameful. Lord Morax came to see you, probably talk about important matters regarding this year’s crops and yet-

“Is this your first heat alone?”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn, on instinct you look up panicked as your long ears stiffen in shock but just as quickly you avert your gaze, unable to look at him in the face at the revelation, and to avoid staring at his regal visage, fearful of your own reactions if you were to do so.

Oh he knows. He knows. Of course he knows. As much as you tried to suppress it your scent is probably dripping with want, especially when your thoughts were spiraling out of control mere minutes ago. Being an adeptus in heat is hard enough, but as a Jade Rabbit… it was especially hard on you.

You blink heavily, dumbly, your brain can’t keep up with all the emotions right now. You feel lightheaded but still manage to force out an answer. “N-No… no, I’m… used to it.”

Morax tilts his head and the light catches on his majestic antlers making them glow, and you find it impossible not to look “Of course.” He nods, still keeping immaculate composure. “But haven’t you found a mate yet?”

A mate. Your rabbit ears droop. Ever since you vowed to serve Lord Morax you never had time for such things, with the on-going war and protecting the humans, even as a non-combatant adeptus your duties were many. Agricultural care and development, medical support, logistics… you never had it in you to find a mate. You were devoted to your contract, and, to Lord Morax himself.

“I’m… I haven’t found the r-right one yet…” You mumble, hugging yourself and rubbing at your arm nervously in an attempt to mimic something.

“Oh my child, I’m sorry.” Morax approaches you and tentatively cups your cheek, fingers barely caressing your jaw, the touch is fleeting yet electric.

His hand is warm.

You unconsciously lean into the touch.

And he smells so good, so good.

“I could assist you, if you would allow it.”

You immediately flinch back at the words.

“W-what?!”

Morax simply blinks at you and crosses his arms, putting some distance between you two again. “I apologize if my advances are unwelcome.”

“No my lord it’s n-not that.” You can’t help but stare at his strong biceps, blackened skin accented by fine gold linings…

You try to control your breathing and think! Rationally!!

But still, you’re curious. What would it be like? To feel your God’s scent, your God’s touch, your God’s co-

You quickly shake your head. No, no! That’s indecent, scandalous! You’re not worthy, that’s…

“It’s okay, my child.”

The warm touch is back, hands placed at your shoulders, grounding you, stabilizing you. A shiver runs down your spine yet it doesn’t freeze you on the spot, rather it feels…

Tender.

You stare up at him and this time hold your gaze. He’s handsome and his eyes are the purest brightest molten gold she’s even seen, the bright diamond pupils mesmerizing.

You whine and rub your thighs together on instinct.

“My Lord… p-please…”

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

“Ha-aahh… f-faster, please my Lord please- Ah-! Faster!”

You’re reduced to a babbling, moaning, drooling mess as you lay on golden silk sheets. Head down ass up, your arms have long since given up supporting you and your thighs tremble as Morax rams into your dripping wet pussy over and over and over again.

He lets out a low chuckle “So tight…” He whispers, voice deep and raspy with sex haze, the scent of your heat spurring him on and making his own illuminated beast features to manifest, such as his powerful tail undulating behind him. “You’re practically dripping all over the place, and yet you take me so well…” his breath stutters with another snap of his hips and all you can do is moan loudly, mind foggy with need.

“Oh…” You gasp. “Oh.”

Without pause, he’s slamming into you repeatedly, pulling you down on his perfect thick cock and fucking fast methodical thrusts into you wet hole, aiming for a certain spot that has you seeing stars once he finds it.

“Ah! Ah… Ah!” Your voice barely registers through your own lust-hazed mind. Tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from the rapid buildup in your lower abdomen. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already came, your juices coating your inner thighs and soiling the precious silken sheets. Not that he seems to mind. “O-Oh… Ohhhh. My Lord… M-Morax…”

You’re pretty sure your God has ruined you for anyone else. No mortal or immortal would ever be able to compare to his divine cock, deliciously thick and filling, the dragon shaft lined with small ridges that rub just right against your insides and so utterly big you swear you can feel a slight bump on your navel every time he bottoms out.

You keen and whine when his strong clawed hands pull at your hips. Seems like your legs are also giving up on you so he holds you in place instead. And you love it. His musky scent. His smooth deep voice. His unfaltering stamina.

The Prime of the Adepti. A strong and virile dragon.

And he chose to mate you.

Suddenly you feel him drape over your back, his larger frame practically caging you, pressing against you until his chest meets your sweaty back and you feel his ragged breath against your neck, scenting you and your heat pheromones before sharp fangs graze your tender skin.

You moan and your pussy clamps down on him. You are so close….

“You feel amazing.” He growls. “So good... s-so good for me.”

You buck your hips up to him, clumsily meeting his thrusts as your small fluffy tail twitches. “Nnngh!”

You feel him bite at your shoulder and the sharp jolt of pain is enough to send you spiraling into another climax, moaning high-pitched and gripping him tighter inside you even as he fucked into your slick warmth. Despite the orgasm he shows no signs of slowing down, so neither do you, as the unbearable heat continues to burn inside you, an itch you can’t quite scratch. His hands reach out for your skin, caressing your soft breasts and marveling at how beautifully they fit into his hands. He rubs circles into one of your nipples before pinching it lightly and is rewarded with another high keen and a spasm around his cock.

“P-Please… please… I need it. Please-” You pant, voice laced with desperation, your nails digging into the bedsheets.

“What do you want?” Morax asks, nosing at your neck and lapping at the reddened bite mark he branded into your skin. “Tell me what you need, little one.”

“Breed me!” You choke out “F-Fill me up Lord Morax, I need you to… fuck m-me full, pleasepleaseplease-”

And how could he deny such a sweet plea? Morax redoubles his efforts, panting with exertion and pushing harder, faster, deeper. Shrill little gasps escaping you as your mind goes blank from the pleasure.

“Hah- I’ll breed you properly… mhh… fill you up.” He pants, his pace getting sloppier, his tail trashing wildly, you feel him twitch inside you. “You’re all mine. Mine to take… to fuck, to own, to breed-”

Morax’s breath hitches and he let out a choked groan, spilling his load inside you in thick creamy spurts as you keen and squirm under him, too fucked stupid for words. You coo happily as the heat under your skin finally abates and you feel full, so full of his seed.

His grip loosens as his hips gradually slow down, head hung low as he catches his breath, his cock occasionally twitching inside you until it eventually softens. He gently pulls out admiring the way your pussy clenches on him, the way your legs shake, weakly trying to lock him there, keep him inside you. The drag and pull of his thick cockhead over your sensitive insides making you keen and whimper from its abuse until your pliant body falls onto the sheets, whining pitifully when you feel his slick seed dribble out of your swollen pussy. You try to close your legs and weakly paw at your core.

No, no, no… it’s supposed to stay inside. Lord Morax’s precious cum-

You squeak as you feel something smooth and solid press against your pussy lips.

“Shhh my dear, shhh.” He coos at you, deep voice soothing your frazzled nerves. “This is just a little something to keep it in, to keep you full.” He pushes gently, working what you now realize was a cor lapis plug into your body. You made another whimpering noise as your lips parted for the toy he’d created for you. Red, puffy pussy folds spread open as they did for his cock, taking the tip before he worked the rest until it finally sunk in, lewdly resting against your opening, a glittering orange gemstone keeping you full. “There, nice and snug, do you like it?”

Your only answer is a little chirp, your eyes half-lidded as your body relaxes.  

“Such a good little bunny. You were so good to me my child, so good.” You smile drowsily at the praise, cooing at him as his hand pets your hair and scratches your fuzzy ear. He kisses at your shoulder and starts softly massaging your aching limbs “You were beautiful. You did so well, you took me so perfectly…”

You lean into his touch, curling up to his body, both of you still damp with sweat and other fluids. Resting for now until another wave of neediness hits you.

You both knew your heat would last at least other 4 days…

You idly wonder if by the end of the week you would be honored with carrying his offspring.

#genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines

[oh-honeyz]

big beefy men who keeps rolling their hips and pounding into you while you’re struggling to keep up with their animalistic pace(*≧∀≦*)

[oh-honeyz]

I like how we all collectively agree that Rin is a pervert. Rin is gross, lewd, and vulgar. Rin tells you the dirtiest things with the straightest face; Rin licks the words into your skin. Rin would press his tongue all over you if you’d let him. Rin pats your pussy in praise for the most docile things with a smile on his mouth when you bat his hands away. Rin pushes his nose between your legs just to smell you when you’re wet; Rin makes you lift up his large shirt that you wear to show him the wet gusset even if your cheeks burn in embarrassment; Rin saves that underwear for later. Rin comes up behind you in the kitchen to reach his hand around your hip and stroke at your clothed clit until you’re forced to use him for support; Rin enjoys watching how your hand claws and grasps at his wrist to ground yourself. Rin likes to make you squirt because he loves the mess it makes, he loves how you whine and tell him to slow down because you can’t control it. Rin wants you to cum on his dick, his thigh, his fingers, his face, his stomach—and he let’s you know because isn’t he such a good communicator for you? Isn’t this what you meant when you asked him to voice his feelings more? You can’t really get mad at him when he leans down to you in the middle of dinner with his high school friends and murmurs, “I want you to sit on my face when we get home.”

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #suna smut #suna rintarou #suna headcanons #suna x reader

[oh-honeyz]

Caught: A Thoma Lemon

Continuation of Where's My Hug?

Summary: Thoma's always put on this perfectly innocent facade, but what happens when the truth finally comes out about his perverted tendencies when it comes to you.

Characters: Thoma, Fem!Reader

TW's: Pervert Thoma, AFAB! Reader, masturbation +being caught (Thoma), voyeurism?, dubcon, mentions of sexual harassment, groping, and PDA.

Thoma had been so so careful with you up until then. Containing himself around you, your perfect body, your adorably innocent personality was certainly not an easy task, but he got by with brief and inconspicuous touches and hearing you whine out his name in response. You were so perfectly oblivious. That he was certain of, yet lately it had felt like you were testing him, teasing him, trying to push him over the edge. He had become so good at waiting, though. Despite the way that lingering overwhelming urge to ruin you would creep in the back of his mind every time he wrapped his arms around you, he could always save it for when you were out of sight. He could resist the need to satisfy the urges you weren't ready to help him with. The moment had to be right. You were too pure. He could only strip you of your innocence once. He had to wait.

After a couple months of getting very familiar with Thoma, you'd come to accept his nature, and the excess physical touch didn't make you nearly as nervous as it used to. In fact, after a while you began openly inviting it, initiating it too. It was his love language, after all, a certified way of knowing that Thoma cared deeply about you, and who were you to deny Thoma the right to express his feelings? Besides, he was so warm and inviting. You could melt into his frame like butter if you wanted to, but he couldn't know you wanted to. No, that would make you seem desperate, and you weren't desperate, right? It's sort of a question you'd been asking yourself recently. Thoma wasn't treating you like he used to. He was hesitant, withholding, almost like you were to him when you two first met. Thoma had never been shy or nervous. Why now? What changed? I guess you could say you'd been letting it get under your skin just a little. You just hadn't quite realized how reliant you had become of him, how his touch had become your fulfillment, so if he wasn't going to take initiative and wrap his arms around you so tightly like the old days, you would.

Thoma's little charade was basically history the second you walked into Kamisato Estate in that stupidly tight dress. You were the life of the party, and you didn't have to say a word. The dress and its perfectly placed ruching, how it hugged your curves and drew the eye up and down your figure. The second you and Thoma saw each other, you walked straight up to him with the most innocent gleaming smile on your face and wrapped your arms around his torso, doe eyes looking up at him that he failed to catch and the perfectly clear view of the imprint of your ass that had the blood rushing to his cock in seconds... What else could he do but pull away and stammer off down a dark hallway? He was losing his mind, and had you held him a second longer you would've known exactly what kind of dirty pervert he was, and he couldn't have that.

His rushing out like that was only adding to the confusion you felt, and frustration was quick to join and combine with that confusion. You wanted answers, so you followed after him, but he knew the place obviously way better than you did. There were like a million rooms in the place! It's like you lost him the second he left, but no way were you letting him off that easily. Opening doors in a house that's not yours isn't exactly polite, but you weren't exactly in the mood for politeness, so you swung the doors open as you pleased knowing well if they were left open it'd be on Thoma's shoulders.

You had been looking for a while when you finally started to hear his voice. He sounded a little distressed, you thought. You weren't entirely sure. The walls of the place were muting the sound, so you couldn't make anything out, but you figured it was best to drop the "walk in like you own the place method" and opt for quietly poking your head in instead. You cracked the door open and slid into the room inconspicuously. It was dark, so when you saw Thoma's figure hunched over in the corner, you had a hard time making out what he was doing, but he was breathing heavily, groaning as his hands messed around with something you couldn't quite identify. The whole thing was a mystery to you until you heard your name breathily leave his lips.

"Fuck, Y/N... why'd you have to wear that stupid dress?"

Suddenly, things were starting to make a lot more sense after that. Part of you wanted to walk away, knowing well that it was all kinds of wrong for you to be listening in on this, and watching too, but he was moaning your name. The sounds of his whiny voice calling out your name, sandwiched in between an array of curses and declarations that you shouldn't have worn that dress for anyone but him... you felt like you were flying and you didn't know why, and you couldn't possibly explain the burning you felt deep down inside of you. You just couldn't help yourself.

*creak*

A draft had flooded through the hallway and made the cracked door behind you swivel open, and Thoma spun around in a panic, hands immediately reaching down to cover his erect cock when he saw you. You were panicking as well, trying to evade your eyes and feign a since of decency like you hadn't been watching him touch himself for the last 2 minutes.

"Wha-what are you doing?!" Thoma exasperated as he pulled his waistband up to his stomach, his cock still shamefully pressing up against the fabric.

"Thoma! I just- I was looking for you, and uh... I found you. Haha."

Thoma was shaking his head ferociously, trying to avoid your gaze under the shame he felt, but in doing so he found his eyes trailing down your body, the sight of your thighs pressing together sending a throbbing sensation down to his erection, and he muffled a whimpering moan by pressing a hand across his face. He turned his whole body back toward the corner, ready to bury himself in it if he got the chance. "H-how much did you see?" He asked hesitantly.

You grew silent at the question, but the silence spoke volumes, and Thoma dropped his head onto the wall's surface. You saw everything, he thought. You know everything, and if you bothered to ever talk to him again it would be nothing short of a miracle.

"I- I just wanted to know why you walked away like that," you told Thoma.

He let out a deep sigh. "Well, I guess you found your answer," he said. "You probably hate me for it. I never wanted you to see me like this."

"I could never hate you, Thoma. I just- well, you've been acting different-"

"So have you," he answered back. "You've really found yourself now, haven't you? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you, I'm just not used to this new you, you know... the confidence, the shiny lip gloss, and the tight dresses-"

"Right, because only you should get to see me like that, I know."

"Just how long were you standing ther- You know what? It doesn't matter, because as you can probably tell by now, if the roles were reversed, I- I don't think I could possibly look away," he rambled, his stressed hand sliding down his face. "I'm sorry. I should probably just go," he said, making a push for the door with his head down.

Part of you knew that you should've just let him leave, that you needed some time apart from him to think rationally about the situation, but your heart was beating so fast you couldn't bring yourself to just let him go, so you wrapped your hand around his wrist before he could. “Stay,” you told him. “Please don’t leave me again.”

There was a shaky breath that escaped Thoma, his eyes still glued to the door. "I'm so sorry for being so distant, I really am, but Y/N this humiliating, so if you could just let me leave-"

"No, Thoma!" you retorted, gripping his wrist in your little fingers tighter.

"I... don't understand," Thoma perplexed. "Does this not disgust you? How do you not hate me right now?"

"I told you, I could never hate you-"

"But you're not bothered by this in the least?" He questioned further.

You hesitated for a moment, knowing well he had a point. Being grossed out by him would totally be the rational thought, but you couldn't think of much else than the accelerated beating of your heart, the desperate longing you'd been feeling lately for Thoma, how you'd driven yourself crazy looking for the answer to why he was so strangely withholding. You should've been disgusted by the answer you found, but instead, there was a sort of catharsis you felt, because you thought he hated you. In comparison, this was a relief, a compliment even. "I mean... it's a little embarrassing, maybe, but so are a lot of the things you do to me, and I don't mind all that so much."

With that seemingly harmless confession, a switch seemed to flip in Thoma. His eyes wandered back over to you curiously. “What do you mean you don’t mind?” He questioned, a teasing undertone slipping through his delivery.

“I- I just mean that you’re my friend, and you said that you express yourself physically-“ you stammered are his shift in demeanor.

“Y/N, I asked about you, not me. I embarrass you, but you don’t mind. That’s what you said, right?”

“…yeah, why?” You nervously answered back, removing your hand from his wrist in passing.

Thoma's head tilted in an almost teasing way, like you should know the answer to your own question. He seemed to hesitate with his next point but took a deep breath "Fuck it," he muttered. "Do you... like it when I touch you?"

You felt your chest tighten around your shy heart when he said that. "Like it? Haha, what kind of question is that?"

"A very straightforward one," he chuckled, his usual adoring smile returning with a hint of teasing. "Come on. You're a terrible liar, and it's just me and you, so you can be honest," he encouraged you with anticipation in his eyes.

You suddenly became nervous at the notion, at the intent curiosity Thoma had written all over him. You honestly hadn't thought about that way before. You'd just accepted it for what it was, but the way Thoma looked down on you with his arms folded across his chest and a smug smile across his face, it reminded you that it didn't matter how much he embarrassed you, he always made your heart flutter, and maybe it was the way he embarrassed you that made you that way too. He was right, too. You couldn't lie to him.

"I- I don't know. I mean, you give warm hugs, and your hands-" you stopped. His hands? What were you even saying?! "You know what? This is a stupid question. Why does it even matter?" You objected.

"Y/N..." He sighed dreamily, eyes heavy in lust. "What about my hands?" Thoma asked in a feigned innocence, almost as if he was mocking you.

You looked up at him and felt yourself shrivel under his gaze. This was too much for you, you thought. You should be grilling him with questions in the state you found him, but you were too kind. All you could bring yourself to do was to turn away so you couldn't see that sly look on his face.

"Oh, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you shy..." he cooed, his voice drawing closer. You felt his hands wrapped around your waist and dip down to your hips. He leaned down so his lips nearly grazed against your ear, making you shudder. "You don't just like it when I touch you. Oh no, you love it, don't you?"

Every logical thought you had left was telling you to pull away, and yet you felt trapped- no, entranced was more accurate, absolutely captivated by the way his hands fanned across the front of your thighs and then swam back to wrap around your stomach. Your breaths were heavy, weighted nervously and leaving you quicker than before. This was the place you tried desperately to avoid being, you thought. He was literally wrapped around you, hands exploring you like it was his god-given right, and you couldn't leave because you were wrapped around him in every sense but literal. You always melted into his touch, but he always pulled away before you could become encased by him.

"Do you want to know a secret, Y/N?" Thoma asked, pulling your body ever closer to his so you could feel him, feel his arousal as he pulled one hand up to grab at your chest and the other down to slide between your thighs.

You felt yourself begin to lean into his transgressions, intoxicated by his warmth. "What, Thoma?" You asked in a breathy whisper.

He let off a breath of anticipation against your neck, sending shivers down your body, and smiled. "I like touching you way more than touching myself," he said.

You swore you saw stars when he said that like it was a dream come true for something you didn't even know you dreamt about. You brought one of your hands up to the back of Thoma's neck, pulling him into yours. His lips cascaded over the skin under your ears and you intertwined your fingers in his hair in response. It wasn't long before he was pulled at the edge of your dress, catching glimpses of you guiding his hand down to your panties. Pink panties, he noticed. Lacy pink panties with little butterflies embroidered across the waistband. Even your underwear was just so adorable to him.

"Were you thinking about me... when you put on this dress, this lingerie?" he cooed between kisses.

"Maybe I was. So what?" you told him, little care for shame left in you.

He chuckled lowly. "You're so cute, trying to act like you're not still nervous," he teased. "Your legs are shaking."

"They're shaking because you keep leaving me in anticipation!" You growled, which shocked him quite a bit. You sighed. "Just touch me already. You've made me wait long enough."

"Yes ma'am," he answered, pushing your panties to the side so he could rub two fingers up and down your slit, lapping up the juices for smoother movements. He drew himself back up to your clit and pressed down on it, rubbing against your sweet spot in tantalizing circular motions that made your mouth gape and moan.

He pulled the top of your dress down too until your tits hung off the elastic so he could pull on them and play with your nipples with his free hand, rubbing against the nubs in a way that stimulated you more than the cool breeze already was against your sensitive areas. Your breaths were so quick but heavy there was no way you could try and control the excessive whining moans that continued to escape your lips, a combination of arousal and embarrassment that left you crying out to Thoma, something he found completely enamoring.

"What was it you were saying about my hands?" He asked again. "Could it be something like: oh, Thoma. When you touch me my brain goes numb and I can't think straight. Ya, that sounds about right, doesn't it."

"Ya, something like that," you conceded. "Mock me all you want, you've wanted this way more than I have."

"You know, up until about 10 minutes ago I would've agreed, but now... I'm not so sure."

"You talk too much," you shot him down.

He took your words as a challenge, dipping his fingers down so he could press into you, eliciting a needy whimper from you. "This better?" he asked as he began plunging his fingers in and out of you.

You nodded, thoughts and words completely escaping you. Pleasure was the only thing on your mind, pleasure and Thoma.

He was pushing for a climax for you. He wanted that moment of victory when he saw you cum in spurts onto his fingers in only a couple of minutes. He wanted that validation so bad that it was making his cock strain painfully as it pushed into the plush fat of your ass. The sight of you slicking up his fingers and contorting under him made him impossibly harder and made it impossibly harder to control himself. You were perfect, he thought. He was doing everything he ever dreamed of doing to you, violating you completely, and you liked it. That alone drove him endlessly wild, until he couldn't stop thinking that his fingers weren't enough. No, he needed you to cum on his cock and suck it dry the way your walls were wrapping desperately around his fingers. He couldn't wait any longer for that. He removed his hand from your hole, and you whined at him.

"Hands against the wall," Thoma told you, taking your panties and pulling them down to your ankles, catching a quick glimpse of your dripping wet pussy on the way back up.

"Thoma... why would you-"

"Put your hands. Against the wall," he urged you, growing impatient.

You grew silent turning to look at him for a brief moment to see just how serious he was, and he was.

It was taking everything in him not to press you up against that wall himself, but he waited for you to see how he wasn't kidding, "I'm going to fuck you until my cock is covered in your cum and until I've filled your insides with mine. Understand?"

You nodded both nervously but also excitedly, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it he knew. He knew because you had both hands pressed against the wall but your eyes were turned back on him, watching as he pulled his erect cock back out from his waistband, pumped it a couple times so he could release a bit of precum, then he lined it up against your soaking hole. As soon as you felt the head go in your head immediately snapped back toward the wall, and you cried out in pure ecstasy. Thoma's cock felt so good, better by the second as he let himself sink into you, and he too moaned out in satisfaction as your fluttering walls hugged his cock so welcomingly. You felt him hit the g-spot the first time and fireworks went off in your head. Your whole body felt it. His hands slithered back up your torso, now free to grab at your breasts and play with them like little toys as he slowly pulled himself out so he could fuck you slow and hard. Every thrust was harder than the last as he shoved his cock while pulling you onto it simultaneously. He wanted you to feel him inside you with explicit detail, every curve he rubbed against, every little sensation that made your whole body tingle. He wanted to fuck you in a way that made you remember every move he made, and you knew he was achieving that goal easily. You whimpered with every movement, begging him to keep going without saying any actual discernible words. He knew what you meant. It's why he kept pushing you until you felt that knot building in your stomach come painfully close to snapping.

Then there was a voice down the hall.

"Thoma. Thoma, where did you run off to? You're missing the party. The messes are starting to pile up!" He called out, a voice much calmer than the man pistoning into you that you could recognize anywhere. You turned to Thoma to urge him to stop but he kept going, kept plunging into you even as the voice drew closer.

"What's wrong? Don't want Lord Kamisato to catch you with my cock inside of you?" he teased.

"You-you're evil..." you answered weakly as you tried to stifle your moans.

"Thoma, where the hell did you go? And that friend of yours too, I haven't seen her either-" Ayato called out, his voice echoing into the room.

"He's getting closer... better hush up now or he might walk in on us. Unless, you like being seen in such a compromising state. After all, you've never stopped me from touching you in public before."

"Shut up, Thoma-" you went to chastise him, but you nearly gasped as he began to pick up his pace. He grabbed at your waist and began to ram into you much faster than before, which made your insides impossibly tight. You took your hands off the wall so you could cover your mouth and muffle the loud moans that kept trying to escape you and Thoma used it as an opportunity to turn you proudly toward the door, the door you failed to shut.

"There's been a breeze, tonight, remember?" Thoma teased further against your ear, fucking you at a steadily fast rhythm. "I can see him just down the hall. What will he think if the door just- flies open and he catches us like this?"

You moaned into your hands louder than intended, knowing Thoma would take that as confirmation that you were fantasizing about the extra attention, but really you were just close, really close.

Ayato began to approach the door and you were trying not to think about that door flinging open and the light draping onto you, but all you could really think about was how you were about to cum.

"Is your friend okay, Thoma? Does she need something I could perhaps help with?" Ayato asked into the supposed emptiness.

"I don't know," Thoma whispered. "Is there something the master can help us with?"

You nodded your head no ferociously, a near panic as you felt your climax begin to set on without your permission. Thoma's pace began to grow erratic as your walls fluttered around him and milky cream poured all over his cock. You thanked your lucky stars when Ayato passed the door without a clue and went passed your room. Thoma couldn't hold himself much longer either, and your warm cum spilling all around him had him spurting thick globs into your sensitive hole. He pressed his mouth into your neck to stifle the moans escaping him. He unfolded into a total mess as he reached his release, any sense of composure evading him as he rode down his high. An array of exhausted pants were traded between you as you both caught your breaths.

Thoma soon removed himself from you and went to the dresser by the window to pull out a couple towels. You leaned your back against the wall, unable to do much else. Thoma took the liberty of kneeling in front of you and gliding the towel across your legs after cleaning himself up. You didn't contest to his efforts. Still, you had a bit of a bone to pick with him.

"That was some stunt you pulled," you chastised him. "What were you planning to do if he actually caught us?"

Thoma chuckled, putting the towel to the side so he could stand back up and talk to you. "Exactly what I said I'd do. I'd have invited him to join us. What? It could've been fun."

"Lord Kamisato is about the least spontaneous person I can think of, and he's your boss-"

"He's also a good friend of mine, and for all the time I've known him the one thing he's always done well is surprise people," Thoma explained.

You sighed. "Ayato doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You wanna bet on that?"

A/N: uhhh, hey guys! I know it's been a while and this is very random but hey, I updated the one thing no one was asking for lmao. Happy new year!

#thoma x reader #thoma smut #thoma genshin impact #thoma genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact thoma

[oh-honeyz]

Thoma: “Where’s my hug?”

A Thoma Smut Drabble. 18+ NSFW Minors Do Not Interact! Not proofread.

Word count: 764 words

TW's: groping, masturbation, mentions of corruption kink, pervert Thoma.

Thoma’s definitely the “where’s my hug?” guy, but it’s okay, because everyone in Inazuma loves him. He’s never been shy about the fact that his love language is physical, and that goes beyond romantic and sexual means. He just feels closer to people when he can get physically closer to them, and so he’s always been one to pass out hugs, and there’s no ulterior motives to it. But you… you changed that. He introduced himself to you with literal open arms and you hesitantly allowed him to engulf you in his frame for a brief moment. He quickly noticed the way the scent of Sakura petals wafted off you, how your cheeks had grown rosy when you two separated, and how warm and supple your skin was when his hand lingered on your wrist for second in his daze. He was instantly addicted, and he craved more of your touch, whatever he could get. For a while he took it slow, cherishing the brief and fleeting moments of wrapping his arms around you for just a couple seconds and then peeling away from you like he wasn’t desperate for you to stay there. He’d smile with crinkled eyes, so seemingly innocent and sweet. He’d go home though and sprawl out on a chair or his bed and fidget with his pants zipper because he’d waited for a moment to himself all day because of you, a moment where he could stroke his cock to the tarrying image of those big sparkling eyes looked back up at him as he pulled away. You were so adorable and naive. He wanted so badly to ravage you, pump you full of pleasure, and make you see stars, but alas, he was such a gentlemen. All Thoma could do was gradually move his body closer and stay enveloped around you longer, inch by inch, second by second, every day, until he was pressed up against you with only clothes separating your bodies and you didn’t even question it. When you remained oblivious he started to get really brave. He’d wrap around you from behind and bury his chin in the crook of your neck, and you’d reply with a bubbly giggle that always made him melt. It was such a wholesome moment, until Thoma “accidentally” pushed into you too hard, his slight bulge brushing up against your clothed sex, then he’d “accidentally” move his hands up your abdomen and lift your shirt ever so slightly so his burning hands glided across the bare skin. You’d whimper and grow red in the face, moaning out his name in embarrassment. “What?” He’d ask without a trace of guilt. “Did I squeeze you too hard?” And he’d tilt his head toward you and let out a chuckle before removing himself from your grasp, and you’d think of it as nothing more than an accident, but in truth it took everything within Thoma to control the sensation of blood rushing to his cock in arousal. He buried that thought deep in his mind of the rest of the day, letting it sit and simmer and grow into a greater desire. When he finally got home, he rushed into his bedroom and locked the door and thanked the archons that he didn’t lose his mind to the sound of you moaning his name so prettily. He wanted so bad to hear you moan his name again. He wanted to hear you say it over and over again as he pounded against that cute little ass of yours that felt like it was practically built for his cock. He wanted to run his hands up and down your smooth bare skin and hear you whine and beg him for more. He stroked his cock to that thought over and over again. He jerked himself against his pillow and imagined it was you whimpering under him, and he came so many times that night, strings of pearly-colored liquid shooting out of him and all over his sheets, wishing it was you his was painting with his cum. He was such a dirty pervert, groping you in the middle of the Inazuma streets because you were too oblivious to see his truly vulgar intentions, and you would never know better either, because Thoma was such a gentlemen and everybody loved him. Everyone would love him regardless of how he fantasized about ruining you while grinding up against your ass, his hot breath becoming weighted and heavy against your neck as he suppressed a moan.

He was such a dirty pervert, and he didn’t deserve you.

#genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #thoma smut #thoma genshin #thoma thirst #geshin impact #genshin thirsts #thoma genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut

[oh-honeyz]

Shadow Kiss

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Vampire AU, Roommates AU, Smut, Fluff, Comedy

Summary: Supernatural creatures don’t scare you, so when the cute neighbor who lives just across the hallway offers you a chance to move in for cheaper rent, you agree in a heartbeat–even when he consumes human blood on a daily basis and making thirst trap videos on TikTok for a living.

Warnings: vampire sex, drunk sex, sex in front of a mirror, blood sucking, unprotected sex, slight choking, swearing, alcohol consumption. 

Word Count: 18K (I'm sorry, he's such a diva in this fic, I had to include a lot of his crazy antics 💀)

I'm very proud to announce that this is my first collab with Nokky from @rainbuniart! Thank you for the amazing drawing, baby. I can't wait to see your Vampire Prince Eren fanart next 😍😍😍

Supernatural things don’t really scare you. Growing up in a family that tells urban legends and mystical myths as bedtime stories makes you feel somewhat reserved toward spooky stuff, to the point that you won’t even bat an eyelash during a jump scare at literally any scary movie out there. It’s not like you’ve seen any supernatural creatures with your own eyes but you believe in their existence, especially when you live in a town where freaky things happen on a daily basis.

You’re not sure about werewolves and zombies, but vampires do roam the earth the second the moon replaces the sun. It’s not merely a rumor anymore, it’s a fact. But they keep their presence a secret, trying to act as humanly as possible so they won’t gather unnecessary attention. And since no one has found any dead bodies with bite marks or severe blood loss, people don’t identify them as a threat. You perceive things similarly. As long as they don’t bother you, then you can coexist in peace. That’s what you believe.

So when you visit your neighbor in the middle of the night, the unbelievably hot guy who lives just across the hallway, you figure you’ll see him smiling back, maybe even offer you a cup of coffee out of courtesy. Now, you don’t usually barge into someone else’s apartment even when the front door is unlocked, but seeing how the two of you are already on a first-name basis, always greeting each other with a nod whenever your eyes make eye contact, you think to yourself, Yeah, he wouldn’t mind if I come in, would he? What’s the worst thing that could happen anyway? He’s too cute to be a serial killer. Which, you realize soon enough, was poor, terrible logic on your part.

But you twist open his doorknob with a click and invite yourself in.

So clearly, you did not expect to see him sitting bare-chested on the couch with his girlfriend’s legs hooked around his waist. Clearly, you did not expect to see his hand yanking at the roots of her hair, forcing her to expose the column of her neck and making her call his name in the most wanton moan you’ve ever heard in your life—even if you’ve had a fair share of watching porn movies (for, umm, research purposes). And you most clearly did not expect to see him sinking his canines deep into her skin, paying no mind to the hot, crimson liquid that taint her bare shoulder, and groaning in bliss as he relishes the taste of her blood.

So naturally, the only thing you can think of is:

Oh shit.

“Wait!” A hand finds its way to tangle around your wrist when you slip behind his front door to run back to your apartment. His icy cold skin makes you flinch in surprise but you keep your face still. As you turn around to see the owner, you’re greeted by a pair of red, glowing eyes. You remember precisely that your neighbor, who you assume is in his early twenties, has a pair of emeralds instead of rubies. But perhaps your mind is playing a trick on you because, by the time you blink, they change back to green, only this time, they look darker than the night.

His brunette hair is long enough to cascade down to his shoulders, seeming unbelievably soft and silky as it frames his strong cheekbones. His lips and cheeks are smeared with fresh blood, possibly from trying to wipe his mouth in a haste with the back of his hand. His fangs are no longer shown and although he seems breathless, you can tell he’s not breathing from how still his chest is moving (but you’re too distracted with the sight of how toned it is to care). And his abs… Let’s not talk about his abs, you mentally slap yourself, knowing that you could make a whole PowerPoint presentation to inform the world about how perfect they are. His black jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, unbuttoned but not yet unzipped, and it’s harder for you to not stare at his V-lines compared to the amount of blood that painted his lips.

Trying to act nonchalant, you simply ask, “Yes?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you're not a vampire who was drinking blood from your girlfriend’s neck a few seconds ago?”

He gapes, eyes growing wide, before, “Okay, then it is what it looks like.”

You retract your hand, giving him a formal nod. “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, as in, no problem.” You nonchalantly shrug. “You've got a kink. I understand.”

“No, I mean—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, somewhat dizzy from your reaction. “Why are you so calm about this?”

Your forehead creases in confusion. “Would you rather have me freaking out and tell our landlord that you’ve been spilling a maiden’s blood on his carpet?”

“Well, no, but—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Also, I’m a professional. I don’t leave stains.”

Your eyes drift down to the carpeted floor underneath him, stained by a few droplets of crimson. “Sure, you don’t.”

The man, catching your gaze, turns flustered. “That was from last night. I was in a hurry.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I haven’t spilled anything today.”

“Congratulations, I’m impressed.” You clap your hands twice, face blank. “Well anyway, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to sneak into your apartment without permission and disturb your…” You scratch your cheek, attempting to find the right word. “Late night snacking time—”

“Oh, God.” He rubs his palm over his face but before he can protest any further, his lover is calling him from the inside of his room.

“Eren, baby, come back to me. I haven’t cummed yet.”

You stare flatly at him, trying not to look as judgmental as possible but most likely failing terribly at it. “She sounds nice.”

He mirrors the look on your face. “Yeah, well, she tastes nice.”

“Ugh, too much info there, buddy.”

“No, I mean, her blood, not her—” You’re not sure whether vampires can blush but this one surely seems like he can. “Why did you even come here again?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You recall. “This is completely cliche and I wish I could provide a better excuse but I was making coffee and I ran out of sugar. Do you have some I can borrow? And maybe some cream?”

“Seriously?” It’s supposed to be a sarcastic response, but when he sees you nodding your head, he adds, “Do I look like I drink coffee in my spare time?”

“You spend eternity without drinking coffee?” You gasp, laying a hand on your heart. “I feel sorry for you.”

“Leave. Please.”

***

On the next evening, you find yourself crossing the hallway and knocking on his apartment door again. Knowing how patience has never been one of your virtues, you spin his doorknob after your third knock. Like last night, it’s unlocked with a click so you invite yourself in, calling his name.

“Jaeger, are you here—”

“I really need to fix that stupid lock.”

The sound of his voice startles you when he suddenly walks into view, but not as much as the sight of him with a towel hanging around his neck. His long dark hair is pushed back, dripping water to his bare chest. You know you shouldn’t look but that’s exactly what you’re doing, following those droplets as they slide down his navel, soaking the towel he has wrapped around his waist.

He notices you’re staring and he lets you take as much time as you want to marvel at his body. When you come back to your senses, bringing your eyes back to his face, he tosses you a small smirk, “So, how was it?”

“How—“ You clear your throat. “How was what?”

“The experience of running your virgin eyes over my god-like abs.”

You cough once but other than that, you succeed at keeping yourself reticent and unfazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So, you’re fine seeing me with human blood on my face but completely left in shock when I’m half-naked?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You sound like a robot with the vocabulary of a toddler.

“You do know us vampires can tell when you’re lying, right? We can hear your heartbeat.”

Fantastic. “Oh, yeah, that’s right.” If acting nonchalant doesn’t work, it’s time to bite back with sarcasm—that’s always been your motto. “Because you totally heard me walking into your apartment last night.”

“That—” He clears his throat. “I was… distracted.”

“You mean you were too horny to notice.”

“You—” He let out a harsh breath, perhaps a habit he invented to make him seem more human? “Are you going to visit me every day? ‘Cause I’m gonna have to file a complaint if you are.”

“Can’t I greet my neighbor?” You sweetly ask, batting your eyelashes.

He snorts loudly but walks away, throwing himself on the couch. “Seriously, why aren’t you surprised about this?”

“About you being a vampire? Or about your God awful taste in women?”

“Yeah?” He mocks back, making a face. “As if your boyfriend Armin Arlert is any better.” When he sees you tuck your chin, seemingly mortified, he snickers. “Enlighten me, Princess. How does it feel to have a lover that can only last for one minute during—”

“Okay, I’ll take my words back. Everything. Can we move on, please?” You try to yank yourself back to your normal state, even when you feel downright ashamed. “So, this vampire thing. How long have you been a vampire?”

“Long enough.”

“How old were you when you first turned?”

“Young enough.”

“How often do you drink human blood?“

“Often enough.”

You glare at him, earning a sly grin in return. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”

He sends you the best solemn expression he can manage, even when his lips are itching to form a smirk. “Serious enough.”

“Right, okay, I’m leaving. Have fun being an asshole for eternity.”

But the second you pivot in your heels, Eren is already on the other side of the room. His superhuman speed startles you, almost knocking you off your balance. Closing the front door, Eren leans his back against it. “Now, now,” he croons, tilting his head, “You come in as you please, uninvited. You don’t think I’ll let you go just like that, do you?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you want?”

“I think it’s something that we both want.” He steps closer, his husky voice turning smooth and alluring. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

You gulp, suddenly becoming nervous. He’s an arms reach away, and then closer, and closer until you can feel his cold fingers tracing against your cheekbone. He lifts your face, locking his striking green eyes with yours and you swear, you see them glow.

“I’m—” You can feel your breathing stutter. “I’m not giving you my blood.”

“But it’s not blood that I want from you.” His eyes are hooded, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about this lately, so much that I could barely think about anything else.”

Your heart is a ticking bomb inside your chest. “A-about what?”

He pulls back his lips, showcasing a pair of white fangs that petrifies you at once. He dives his head, the tip of his canines grazing against the supple skin of your neck before he shifts closer to your ear and he whispers.

“About our rent. Do you want to move in together so we can split the rental fee?”

***

It’s both ridiculous and dumb, his offer to move in together for cheaper rent, so it’s even more ridiculous and dumb when you agree to it. Several reasons make sense, actually—at least, to you anyway: 1) your neighbor may be a vampire but he’s super hot and although that doesn’t make everything okay, it does make his offer sound incredibly tempting, 2) your landlord is going to raise the rent in the following two months, 3) your part-time job’s salary can only cover so much of your living cost and you have no savings whatsoever, 4) if you can ignore the fact that he brings random girls at night for midnight snacks, he becomes much, much more attractive.

Of course, there are risks to think about as well. Sharing a place with another person can be a hassle, so you can only imagine how problematic it would be to share your home with a vampire. What if he loses control? What if he gets too thirsty and starts drinking from you instead?

You swallow hard. The thought of it is actually kind of… sexy.

Armin. You mentally slap yourself in the head. You have a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop having a crush on your damn neighbor.

But it's not like there is anything serious going on with Armin, is it? You guys were just lab partners in high school, went on a couple of dates, had a terribly awkward first kiss, had a heavy make-out session with him ejaculating under one minute when you dry-humped him on the couch of your living room and that’s it. You like him, he likes you, but yeah, nothing serious.

“My apartment or yours?” You ask Eren after a week has passed by, the second he opens his door for you. “Your apartment is bigger, but mine is cleaner.”

“Whatever you want, Princess,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mind as long as we can split the fee.”

“Yeah, why is that? You’re running out of money?”

His smirk instantly falters. It takes him a few seconds before he answers in chagrin, "Yeah."

"You've been alive for what, centuries? And you're still broke?"

Your judging tone makes him tighten his jaws. “Well, it’s not exactly easy for vampires to get a job these days.”

“You literally have superhuman skills.”

“Well, you guys have technology!” He throws his hands in the air, absolutely disgusted with the word by the sight of it. “And the Internet! Sure, I can run pretty fast, I have super hearing and super strength—hell, I can see in the dark too but these fucking technologies can do literally everything I’m capable of—and everything I’m not capable of—with only a few clicks! Do you think that’s fair? For me, an eight hundred-year-old vampire, to be pushed aside like this by a goddamn remote? And what is that thing you guys do on your phones where you dance to random songs and do things like taking off your shirt— ”

“You mean TikTok?”

“YES!” He exclaims dramatically with his head thrown back. “I fucking hate that thing! Back in my days, we needed to use flattery and gold and gifts to win a lady’s heart—not me, though, have you seen this face?” His cocky smirk returns for a few seconds to make a point before he starts raging again. “But look at them now! They just took off their clothes and they got hundreds of girls saying, Mmm, Daddy, spit in my mouth and call me a whore—how is that fair?! I also want to spit in a girl’s mouth and call her a whore without having her file a restraining order against me!”

Never in your life would you have thought that you’d see a vampire complaining about TikTok’s thirst traps with his cheeks puffing out in anger, but here you are. “Do you need a hug?”

He’s still pouting but he weakly shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

“There, there.” You give him a pat on his back as he leans down so you can reach his height. “I’ll teach you how to make a thirst trap video someday, how about that?”

He nods like a child. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You pull away, squeezing his shoulders. “Don’t worry, you’ll get through this. So, about moving in together. Shall we talk about house rules and stuff?”

“Sure, but before that,” he sweetly smiles, opening his door wider for you. “Come in. I won’t bite.”

It’s something about him using that poor choice of words with that teasing smirk on his face that makes your stomach feel uneasy but you nod and let yourself in. As he closes the door, he adds, “Unless that's what you’re into.”

“Getting my blood drunk by a vampire?” You scoff, trying to steady your racing heart though he can probably tell already. “Why would it be something I’m into?”

“Well, my ladies surely enjoyed it,” he chuckles and you secretly think to yourself, yeah because you’re fucking hot, that’s why, but you keep yourself ignorant on the outside. “But if you’re ever curious,” he coos, eyes gleaming as he snatches a hair tie from his wrist, pushes his bangs back with one hand, and ties his hair up messily in a bun. “I’m down anytime you want.”

You shudder, but from disgust or excitement, you’re not sure. “Thanks, but no thanks. So, house rules?”

***

It turns out to be shockingly easy to share an apartment with an undead creature of the night. Your source of information regarding vampires is from the collection of your young adult supernatural novels, ranging from something serious like Interview with The Vampire to something mediocre like The Vampire Diaries, and something absolutely ridiculous and downright outrageous like Twilight. So it’s not really surprising when your first assumption of vampires are dead people who look unusually pale but strikingly attractive, have constant frowns on their faces as they brood over literally everything that’s happening as if they’re constipated all the time (they’re not since vampires don’t have that bodily function anymore) and kill people in their spare time by sucking their blood dry.

But Eren isn’t like that at all. At one point, you have to remind yourself that he’s a vampire who's lived for 845 years and not a brat going through puberty.

Because Eren isn’t pale, his skin is tan as if he was kissed by the sun when he has been hiding from it his whole life. It’s smooth, unscarred, and almost golden under the fluorescent light of your apartment.

He’s not heartless either. He cried (he wouldn’t admit it but he did) when he watched Hachiko, even when the dog owner was still alive and well. He kept shouting to the screen, “Bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit is going to happen to the dog—look how cute that dog is—look just how fucking cute he is—he doesn’t deserve any pain—if this dog dies by the end of the movie, I will combust!" By the end of the movie when the dog died (oops spoiler alert), Eren was bawling his eyes out, coughing and choking and everything. At one point, he even said, “Fuck, I feel like I’m about to throw up my intestines.”

“Chill, dude. It's just a movie.”

“THEY SAID IT WAS BASED ON A TRUE STORY, YOU COLD-BLOODED WITCH!”

So the thought of him killing someone by sucking their blood dry? Seems very unlikely.

And he’s not broody or angry all the time. Yes, Eren has quite a temper, but he’s extremely playful and annoyingly mischievous. He keeps his stock of blood in empty bottles of red wine and places them inside the fridge with a handwritten note that says: “It’s really just wine, Princess. I bought some as a housewarming gift. Come take a sip.” You did, once, out of curiosity, and from that day on you promised yourself that you would never trust his words ever again for as long as you live.

Being a monster, he should’ve been the cause of people’s fear, but in reality, Eren gets startled easily by a lot of things—even the things that shouldn’t scare a baby. You will never forget the day when a loud crash came thundering from his room, two seconds before he came barging into yours, screaming, “THERE’S A COCKROACH FLYING IN MY ROOM!”

“And what did you do?”

“I THREW THE TV AT IT BUT THAT FUCKING THING STILL LIVES!”

“What?! But that’s our TV!”

“IT WAS FLYING TO MY FACE AND I PANICKED—WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

Even a butterfly that sneaks in from the window makes him jump on his feet. It was cute the first two times it happened, but seeing how he keeps on throwing random things—your phone, included—to keep the bugs away, you probably should start adding another house rule.

Speaking about rules, they’re pretty basic. It’s settled that you’ll both do your cleaning separately. No borrowing things without permission, no spending too much time in the bathroom because although he doesn’t need to go to the toilet, Eren enjoys drawing himself a warm bubble bath for hours. He'd do the most cliche things too, like putting Michael Bublé’s songs on speaker, taking a sip of his ‘red wine’ and calling it the perfect “Bublé Bath.” Now, you might think he would look fancy when he does it. His beautiful long hair grazing his shoulders; the colorful bubbles (yes, he’s using rainbow bath bombs) doing a poor, poor job at hiding his God-like body; his tongue running across his lower lip to wipe the blood before it dribbles down his chin, maybe even a sight of his fangs peeking out behind his devilish smirk. H-O-T. But it turns out that’s not the case.

Imagine walking into the bathroom to find a vampire chilling inside your tub, his legs draping on the edge, his fist curling in the air as if he was holding an invisible microphone in his hand. He'd have his eyes closed as he belted out his high notes, passionately singing, "Let me go homeeeeeeee" as if he was auditioning for a lead role in Mamma Mia. This is what you have to deal with every Sunday morning.

And you’re fine with him bringing girls over to your place as long as he does his midnight snacking in his own room. You were against it at first, but then you figure that you’re going to have Armin in your room from time to time too (your date night is cheaper this way) so you really don’t have the right to forbid him.

But man, if only you could take your words back.

Because when Eren said his ladies surely enjoyed it when he drank from them, you didn’t think that they would enjoy it this much. And you didn’t think that drinking blood from a human equals having sex with them all night long.

The sound of “Aah, yes, fuck me just like that,” and “Bite me again, Eren, please, I want you to bite me just as hard as you fuck me,” can be heard coming endlessly from his bedroom whenever he brings a girl over—sometimes even two at the same time. You have to plug your AirPods into your ears to tone down your suffering, blasting the volume to the max until you can literally feel your ears turn deaf. Even when you’ve pulled your pillow over your head, you can still hear them. Your apartment has excellent sound-proofed walls so your neighbors don’t really hear the loud screeches they’re making, but for you who sleeps in your bed just across the living room? A living hell.

Fortunately, it doesn’t happen every day. It doesn’t happen every week, even, since he always keeps some stocks of blood in the fridge.

“Did you take this blood from those girls?” You grimaced one night, as you opened your refrigerator to slide in your leftover and noticed three huge bottles of red wine filled up to the brim.

He laughed, waving a hand. “Of course not, stupid. How could I even do that in the first place? I bought some blood bags from the hospital, obviously.” He was sitting on the couch before but when he delivered his next line, he suddenly stood behind you, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. “And just in case you’re wondering,” you could feel his smirk grazing your earlobe. “I only drink directly when I want to have sex.”

The heat was spreading almost immediately to your cheeks so you hid it by throwing a punch to his stomach, which he easily dodged. “Still,” you complained, “There’s blood in my fridge.”

“Hey, I never complain when you keep your celery juice in there.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t eat or drink human foods, but who the fuck drinks celery juice?”

***

Eren is also quite passionate and it shows whenever he talks about something that he likes or intrigues him. It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence, moving from one random topic to another, never letting an awkward pause stretch out for too long. But he can also be exceptionally annoying when you have some paperwork to do and he’s bothering you because he’s bored out of his mind. He’ll start pestering you with questions—unimportant questions—like, “If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?” Or “Why is it that when you are sleeping it’s called drool but when you are awake it’s called spit?” And the stupidest of them all, “Why did Superman wear his briefs on the outside of his tights?”

And you’ll eventually start to lose it, throw a pillow to his face and yell, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

But by the end of the day, it’s really fun to have him around. Not just because you can secretly enjoy the sight of him coming out of your shared bathroom with only a towel hanging low around his hips, but also because he’s a vampire and you can spend your time doing actual research about it.

“So,” you began one day after the sun had sunk below the horizon and he crawled out of his room with the biggest bird’s nest on his head. You had a romance novel on your lap, your fingers running through the pages. “Are you like an actual vampire or are you the romanticized, somewhat gay vampire they usually depict in books?”

“Well, I’ve been with a few men before but I still prefer women better.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table. You kind of just stared at him, not exactly judging his words, just… bewildered. Noticing the look on your face, he added, “When you’ve lived for a century, you gotta learn how to keep things interesting, even if that means having a dick in your mouth.”

“That’s…” You swallowed. “Not exactly something I want to imagine.”

"You've never had a dick in your mouth? That's sad."

"I meant, imagining you."

"Oh." His devilish smirk returned. “You should, though. Try picturing me with your boyfriend Armin for a sec. Don’t we look cute together?” You had to look away when he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just had to. “Actually, I don’t care what their biological sex, gender, or gender identity is,” Eren shrugged. “As long as they’re pretty and not hairy, I’ll sleep with them.”

“You’re okay with all genders but you can’t handle pubic hair?”

“No, I meant, hairy. Like a werewolf.”

“You’ve slept with a werewolf?!” You gaped. “I didn’t know they even existed!”

“Yep, not doing that again.” He shuddered at the memory. “I had fur in my butthole because of that.”

“You know there are things you can share, and there are things you should bring to your grave. That last one is the latter.”

“Sorry, can’t do that. You see, I don’t have a grave.”

He didn’t have one, true, but you were so tempted in making one for him right then. “So, these vampire books you said you read,” Eren went back to the previous topic after cackling for a whole ten seconds at the aggravated look on your face. “How do they depict us exactly?”

“You’ve never read one?”

“Have you ever read any books about humans written by vampires?”

“Fair point. Well, it said that vampires couldn’t see themselves in the mirror.”

“Myth,” he replied, leaning his head against the couch. “I can see myself in the mirror and I like seeing myself just as much as you do whenever I come out of the bathroom.”

You almost choked on the cinnamon cookie you just ate. “Excuse me?!” You coughed, eyes starting to get a little teary. “Who said I like looking at you?”

“You don’t?” The way his eyes twinkled made you a little bit weak. A puckish grin grew apparent on his face. “You sure about that?”

You cleared your throat, flipping another page of your book. “Next question,” you continued, ignoring the soft laugh he emitted. “Do garlic, holy water, and silver scare you?”

“They don’t scare me,” he clicked his tongue, vexed by the way you composed your words. “I just don’t like them.”

“Right, so that’s a yes. Do you have to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s home?”

He ground his jaw, bitterly muttering, “Yes.”

“Can you read someone’s thoughts?”

“No, but I can tell how they’re feeling through their heartbeat.” His eyes were boring into yours, lips curving upward. “Like you, for example. I can tell that whenever I’m around you, your heartbeat runs just a little bit faster.”

You glanced away, rubbing your nose. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Ah,” he showcased his perfect marbled teeth as he grinned knowingly. “Just like that. Your heartbeat is increasing again. Are you lying to me, Princess?”

“You’re so annoying, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Speaking of that,” you immediately said, knowing it was the perfect chance to avert his attention to another topic. “Can you charm someone?”

“With these looks?” He gestured to his entire body. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” But when you started scowling at him, he added, “But if you’re talking about mind compulsion, yes, I am able to do that. I can erase and alter people’s memories, even controlling them only by making eye contact.”

“That sounds pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like doing it.” The sudden change in his attitude left you frowning. He seemed pensive as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “I’ve done that many times in the past and I didn’t—” He released a sharp breath, as if talking about it reminded him of something that he loathed about himself. “I hated it.”

You tilted your head to the side, curiosity gnawing at your chest. “What… did you do exactly? If you don’t mind answering.”

His jaw tightened, seemingly conflicted for a couple of seconds before he forced himself to smile. “I do mind, actually.”

“Oh, umm… Sorry.” Eren, like everybody else, had secrets he wished he could keep to himself. And that was fine, you should respect his privacy. But seeing how he had no problems sharing everything else with you made you wonder even more, even slightly worried. Did he trick people to give him their blood? You mused. No, if he only did that, he wouldn’t look this distraught. A hint of dread crawled up your skin. What if he did… something worse? What if he—

“What are you brooding about?” He lightly nudged you with his elbow, tittering. “Relax, I’m not gonna use compulsion on you. Hypnotizing someone to get what I want just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to feel a connection, you know?”

You could tell how much he wanted you both to act casual, pretending like he didn’t say anything weird. Deciding to honor his privacy, you dismissed the matter for now and went back to your regular teasing. “So doing one night stands with vampire groupies is the perfect way to earn that connection, I suppose?”

He had his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he grew both irked and amused at your comeback. “You really know how to attack someone’s pride, huh?”

“Part of my charm,” you mimicked him with a nod. “Okay, next question. Can you die with a wooden stake piercing your heart?”

He rolled his eyes. “Everybody dies with a stake in—what is this, an interrogation?”

“Do churches—”

“Okay, Princess.” He closed your book, his smile stretching widely but it wasn’t enough to reach his eyes. “I think that’s enough. My turn now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not entirely pleased with the way he just suddenly changed the direction of your conversation. “What do you want to know?” You indulged him anyway.

He tilted his head, propping his elbow on his thigh, fingers tapping against his cheek as he rested his chin on his palm. Gazing at you intensely, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”

It didn’t take even a split second for your cheeks to turn warm. “T-that’s—What kind of question is that—”

“Ah, so you are.” His smile grew a bit larger, but you weren’t sure whether he was entertained, aroused, or just excited to mock you about it. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me a lot lately? Because you’re curious?”

“For the last time,” you emphasized, though your heart was hammering against your rib cages. “I wasn’t looking at you. I never—”

“You’re adorable when you lie,” he snickered, a lopsided grin painting his face. “Your heartbeat sounds like you just did a marathon. Are you okay?”

You threw your book at him, successfully wiping the smirk on his goddamn perfect face before you raced back to your room.

“Ah, she’s really cute.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you slammed your bedroom door behind you.

***

For a vampire, Eren’s presence is as blinding as the sun, always managing to lift your mood whenever you’re too stressed out about your college assignments or drained from your part-time job. Of course, he’s also the cause of your stress more often than not, but whenever you get into a fight with him—usually because he’s so disorganized and you’re too obsessive to keep everything in order—it doesn’t last long and it always ends up with him making you the best dinner you’ve ever had to compensate for his actions, even when he’s not the one at fault.

Eren doesn’t consume human food but he makes the best cuisine you’ve ever tasted in your life. And the sight of him wearing your apron with his bangs tied to the side using your hairclip is really, really something to behold—which is weird because that obviously doesn’t scream sexy in any way, or masculine even, but it never fails to make your stomach somersault in delight.

“Dinner is served, Milady,” he says, laying down a plate of Spaghetti Aglio e Olio in front of you, making you gawk at the sight. “And it’s special because it contains a lot of garlic—seriously, like a lot. I had to put some gloves on and everything.”

“You’re an angel.” You nearly cry and it’s not an exaggeration. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

“Well, I haven’t really thanked you for covering my rent last month so…”

“It’s fine, you can pay me back later.” You take a hold of your fork, moistening your lips in anticipation, and wasting not a second longer before you dig in. When the cheese melts inside your mouth, you almost moan in joy. “Oh my God, this is so good. I love you.”

He chuckles, suddenly standing behind you, leaning forward so he’s right next to your ear. “Yeah? How much?”

You raise your silver spoon in the air and he immediately leaps to the other side of the kitchen, startled and terrified out of his mind. “Hey, that’s not cool!” He barks. “I thought we'd talked about this!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you take another spoonful of the dish. “Man, you should really make a job out of this,” you comment. He only cooks whenever he feels sorry for you for going through a hard day—whether it was because of him or something else—but if that’s what it takes to have this magnificent cuisine enter your mouth, you don’t mind suffering more often.

“I really should, huh?” He takes a seat on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling a few inches in the air. He ties his hair up in a bun like he always does, with a few strands of his baby hair falling to his temple. “I’m really running low on money.”

“I thought vampires were supposed to be rich and, like, noble.”

“You’re confusing us with Aristocrats.” He grieves. “I used to be filthy rich, actually.”

“And now, you’re like this. What happened? Did you get robbed?” You chuckle to yourself but he’s not laughing. He’s doing that thing again where he turns pensive, his lips squeezed tight as if he was trying to keep his thoughts away from morphing into words. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny.”

“It was kinda funny.” His little smile returns, albeit a bit forced and awkward. “Do you think I can get a night shift at a restaurant downtown?”

“Oh, I actually know a place. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Like on a date?”

You almost drop your fork. “Why do you have to make everything weird?”

His cheeky grin is contagious but you’ve become a master of handling your expression. “I just like seeing you turn all flustered,” he confesses. “Have I told you how cute you are?”

“Today? Not yet,” you mutter as you munch on your food. “Yesterday? Approximately two hundred and thirty-five times.”

“Then I’ll try to break another record today.” He throws you a wink.

“Shut up and let me eat in peace, please.”

***

“Eren.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop posting a goddamn selfie every ten minutes!” You almost throw your phone to his face but since it’ll be a waste, you decide to throw your shoe instead. “I didn’t teach you how to use Instagram for this!”

Eren easily dodges every single thing you’re flinging at him. “Didn’t you tell me to promote my cooking skill? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“How does this—” You show your phone’s screen to him, almost smacking him in the face with how fast and hard you’re doing it. You slide your thumb over his Instagram feeds, showing more than fifty different pictures of his close-up face (and he just made that account two days ago, Jesus Christ). “—promote your cooking skill?!”

“But, look,” he guides you, clasping his hand around yours so you’re both holding your phone. He taps from one picture to another. “This is me holding a spatula. This is me boiling water and this is me pouring barbecue sauce—”

“Oh my God.” You almost yank every hair out of your head—or out of his head. “I follow more than four hundred people and all I can see on my timeline is your damn selfies!”

“Correction, my damn cute selfies.” He pecks your cheek. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

But all jokes aside, it actually works. His adorable (and hot) selfies—no matter how bad you hate to admit it—are attracting more followers each day that by the time a week has passed by, he has gained more followers than you have (and you’ve had your account for three years, shame on you).

And in the following two months, he gets his first endorsement deal.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, gaping as you stare over his shoulder to take a glimpse at his phone’s screen, shamelessly reading his direct messages. He’s getting an offer to become a brand ambassador for this little bakery that has a cover photo of a lady with chubby cheeks baking cupcakes. “I can’t believe there are people crazy enough to hire you.”

“Hey, privacy!” He immediately stands up from the couch, covering his screen with his palm. “I could’ve been sending nudes!”

“You’re sending nudes?”

“Well, not my nudes.” He rolls his eyes.

“How is that any better?!”

“Look, I’m busy. I got a gig.” He grins proudly. “I’m on my way to becoming a celebrity, babe. Do you want my autograph now before it’s too late? I could sign your bra if you want. I mean, I’m totally down if you want me to sign your tits, but if you ever think that could be awkward—”

You smack his head with a spatula.

***

“What are you doing?”

You question the vampire the second you push open your bathroom door, catching him in the middle of lifting his shirt in a slow, sensuous manner as he casts a sexy smirk at his camera. He sighs at your presence, yanking his white wifebeater back down before he picks up his phone. “I’m making a thirst trap,” he explains, not even sparing you a glance. “People have been begging me to join TikTok so I made one last week and now I’m trying to reach a thousand followers by Sunday. I only need about a hundred more.”

“By making thirst trap videos?” It’s more like a statement than a question. The disgust in your voice is apparent but he plays ignorant.

"Obviously,” Eren says, tapping his thumb against his screen. Snickering, he adds, “They call me Daddy now.”

“God.”

“I won’t call myself a God, but,” he chuckles, hurling a flirtatious wink. “If that's how you think of me, sure. Also, what do you know about OnlyFans? They want me to make one too.”

“Kill me. Just kill me now and end my suffering. Please.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” He snorts. “Hey, recommend me a song for my thirst trap. I want one that makes me look like I’m the filthiest whore in town.”

“You already look like the filthiest whore in town.”

“Aaw.” He’s flattered. He’s actually flattered. “Thanks, babe. You too.” He puckers his lips, making a kissy face. “Now, enough with the praise. Let’s go back to this. I’m thinking about using Britney’s Gimme More but—”

“Oh my God, Ren, a cockroach!” You point a finger at the marbled floor, shouting as dramatically as possible.

“FUCK—WHERE?!” The second he’s distracted—yelping like a little girl—you jump on your feet, snatching away his phone. “Hey, what are you—”

Dashing toward the front door, you shout back, “I’M BURNING DOWN YOUR PHONE!”

“WHAT—GET BACK HERE!”

***

It’s your first date night after passing nearly half a year without contacting Armin due to him going overseas for his student exchange program, and now that he’s back, you’re nervous for various reasons.

First, you haven’t told Armin you’ve been sharing a place with a guy.

Second, you certainly haven’t told him that this guy is a vampire.

Third, you absolutely in any way cannot tell him that you’ve been secretly crushing on this guy while your boyfriend was away studying.

And last but not least, you know that if anything happens tonight, whether it ends up with you fighting with Armin or finally losing your virginity to him, Eren can hear every single thing.

So you barge into his room, hand laying on the front of his bedroom door as you push it open. “Eren.”

Like always, he’s laying idly on his bed, head almost dangling on the edge of it with his smartphone in his hands. “Yes, baby?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “How many times should I tell you? Don’t call me that.”

“You’re not my baby anymore?” He fakes a loud gasp. “I am shocked.”

“Armin is coming over tonight.”

His movements stop abruptly. “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s been nothing but sweet to me.”

His eyes lose the mischievous spark he usually displays in them. “And yet, you keep drooling over my body. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”

“I never—” You exhale loudly, throwing your head back. “I’m not going to have this conversation again. He’s coming over tonight to have dinner—”

“But you’re a shitty cook.”

“By dinner, I mean take-outs,” you admit your defeat. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a favor.”

“Princess,” he calls, turning over to his stomach so he can face you without having to see you upside down. “I know I said I wanted to make things interesting, but having a threesome with you and Armin? So suddenly like this? Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little awkward between us? I barely know the dude. You should at least tell me what kind of person he is, whether he likes action movies or romantic ones, whether he blames someone else when he farts—I need to know him before I have his dick in my mouth.”

Talking to him gives you headaches, you should’ve really come prepared. “Are you done?”

“Do you still want me to continue? Okay, well—”

“Shut up, please for the love of God, shut up.” You know you should take your leave before he starts yapping again. “Look, that super hearing thing you have? Can you turn it off just for one night?”

“Sure thing. Click,” he says, snapping his fingers near his ear. “Done. Now I’m deaf.”

You flatly stare at him. “I’m serious.”

“Whaaaaat? I can’t heaaaaar youuuu.”

“Eren!”

He groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “Well, it’s not like my ears have on-and-off buttons I can just switch, okay? What do you want from me?”

He’s right, there’s nothing you can do. “Then, can you leave the apartment for the night?”

He opens his mouth wide, hand going to his chest. “You’re kicking me out of my own apartment? This is heresy!”

“Eren, please!” Great, now you’re stomping your feet like a child. “I just really need some privacy for tonight.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” He raves mockingly, but his eyes are somewhat cold. “Seriously? With that guy? I think you could do so much better, Princess.”

Vexed, you jeer back, “Yeah? And who do you have in mind? You?”

You’re not sure whether it’s your words or the way you say them that makes his blood boil but his eyes suddenly turn darker, almost glowering at you. It only happens for a second or two before he switches back to his happy-go-lucky self, so you’re not sure if you even see that clearly.

“Well, it’s not my business, is it?” He casually chirps, smiling at you again although something still feels off. “Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop on you two. I have a lot of kinks but voyeurism isn’t one of those. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“You…” Something feels really off with the way he’s acting. It’s like he’s visibly upset but trying to act nonchalant about it at the same time. “You’re sure?”

“You have my words.”

“Okay then.” Whatever it is, you figure you can deal with that later as you’re running out of time for your date. “Well, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

As you shut the door behind you, turmoil starts to fill your chest.

***

Your date with Armin is going well. It’s going so well, even, that you end up lying on your bed, perfectly naked, lips swollen from his kisses. He's hovering above you, both breathless and speechless at the sight of your curves, his sapphire eyes shifting from one spot of your skin to another.

And unfortunately for you, he is also clueless.

Armin has a packet of condoms in his hand, and no matter how embarrassing it is for you, you already have your legs spread on the bed, waiting for him to… well, do whatever it is he’s supposed to do. You always thought that it was okay for you to be clueless about sex because guys usually take the lead, right?

Wrong.

“Okay, wait, let me just—” Armin’s fingers are trembling due to anxiety. His poor, innocent mind cannot handle being so painfully turned on and awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Your boyfriend has always been awkward with literally everything, which kind of makes him adorable but it does not come as cute—not in the slightest—when he’s doing the exact opposite of what he's supposed to do. Somewhere deep in his mind, he probably knows that he’s supposed to tear apart the package sexily with his teeth, put the condom on within seconds, and thrust into you as painlessly as possible. But in reality, what’s currently happening is he's trying to catch the condom that flew out in the air after he managed to tear the packet apart with his shaky fingers. He then progresses to try putting on the condom for approximately fifteen minutes while flinching several times when he accidentally slaps the elastic band against his cock.

The whole thing is a fucking disaster (no pun intended) and all the passion, desire, and arousal that you once felt swirling in your stomach vanish in an instant. And when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it does, because being a virgin himself, Armin doesn’t really know where to, for the lack of better words, put it in.

“Armin?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That’s my asshole.”

So with a reassuring (fake) smile, you lay a hand on his chest and gently push him backward, trying not to wince in shame when you suggest, “Maybe we should stop and try again some other time?”

You two dress back into your clothes in silence and after you escort him to your front door, Armin tries to kiss you at the same time you’re leaning in for a friendly hug so it ends up with him knocking his teeth against your forehead.

When he’s gone, you close the front door with a sigh, pressing your spine against the wooden surface as you soothe the pain on your temple away with your fingertips. It doesn’t take long before Eren peeks his head from behind his door. Noticing you’re alone, he steps into the living room, leaning against the wall just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing.

“So,” he begins, acting casual with his hands neatly tucked inside the pocket of his jeans. “How was the date with—” He suddenly bursts out laughing, one hand holding his stomach as he nearly tumbles down to the floor, cackling like a mad man. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but holy fuck, did he really put it in the wrong hole? Oh God, this shit is just beyond me, man.”

With your shoulders slumped forward, you walk back into your room, trying to gather back the pieces of dignity you have left.

***

“You know what I should do?” Eren asks with a game controller in his hand. To stop him from making fun of you and your terrible incident with your boyfriend, you’ve borrowed a PlayStation from your cousin. Even though he claimed that he despised technology, Eren is actually brilliant when he puts his mind to it. It doesn’t take more than two hours for him to master the game, already adapting to every button of the controller, even manages to land a few high scores in the last ten minutes. He used to prefer to live in the old school way, but that soon changed after your influence.

“Pray to God for forgiveness so He won’t send you to hell?” You offer, as you take a seat next to him on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs with your eyes staring idly at the screen.

“Cute, but no.” He clicks some buttons aggressively, trying to reach yet another high score. “I should become a historian. I mean, I’ve seen things happen with my own eyes—the first world war, the second world war, the worst of all: the birth of Donald Trump. Hell, I was even besties with Jesus at one point.” He sneaks a glance, but seeing no reaction coming from you, he juts out his lower lip in disappointment. “It’s cruel that you don’t indulge me with my jokes these days.”

“Oh, you want me to respond? I thought you just liked hearing yourself talk.”

“Heeeeeey,” he hisses, leering at you. “I know you’re hurt that your boyfriend tried to butt-fuck you but don’t throw this all on me.”

Oh my God. “Right, then let’s try this.” You have no choice but to please him this way before he destroys whatever is left of your pride. You do a quick search on your phone, throwing a random question from what you found in the article. “Who led our country in 1950?”

“Easy. The guy with the bald head. No, wait, is it the skinny one with the huge mole on his neck?”

“Name, genius. I need a name.” You exhale in exasperation.

“Oh, I got it! The one with the annoying high-pitched voice!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to remember shits that happened seventy years ago?”

You give him a look, eyes staring at him lifelessly. “You’re right, you should totally apply for the job. You’ll nail it.”

***

“I can’t believe this.”

“Saying that multiple times won’t really change anything, Princess.”

“I can’t believe this,” you repeat, this time while standing up from the couch, slamming your fashion magazine down to the table. “I can’t believe our air conditioner broke when it’s nearly forty degrees outside! Aren’t you hot?!”

“Am I hot—” He snorts, flipping a page of his novel. Yes, it is actually quite bizarre that he spends his spare time reading. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m hot. Haven’t you seen the number of views my thirst trap videos got in one night?”

“Ugh, God!” You plop back into your seat, throwing your head back in vexation. “What are you even reading?”

“That vampire book you talked about the other day.”

“Which one?”

“The one that’s interesting.”

“Oh, Interview with The Vampire?”

“No.” The way he rolls his eyes as if he’s disgusted with your guess is beyond you. “Twilight.”

“Oh my God, stay away from me.”

“What—this is actually good!”

“These vampires sparkle under the sun—aren’t you, at the very least, offended? Because I’m human and I’m livid.”

“That’s what makes it interesting, actually,” he retorts, eyes moving back and forth as he reads through a passage. “They’re so different from us in real life, so it’s like seeing through a new perspective. I’m Team Jacob, by the way. I know I said I wouldn’t bang another werewolf but Jacob can, like, get it.”

“Good Lord.” You palm the side of your face. “You’re more than eight hundred years old but you have the taste of a teenage girl going through puberty. I’m ashamed of knowing you.”

“You’re just cranky because of the weather.”

“I’m literally dying.” You can feel sweat drenching your back, all the way to your shirt and you just took a shower twenty minutes ago. “You’re lucky you’re immune to temperature changes.”

“Then wanna sit on my lap?”

Your ears must be playing tricks on you. “Excuse me?”

Eren sighs, closes his book, and throws it away to the side. Turning to you, he repeats slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Do. you. want. to. sit. on. my. lap?”

You send him a blank stare, annoyed. “I heard you, asshole. I’m not an idiot. I’m just shocked at your offer. You’re really going all out in harassing me these days, huh?”

“What—” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m a vampire, remember? I have cold skin. Here,” he takes one of your hands, sliding it down his shirt as if it’s nothing, and presses it against his stomach. “Can you feel it?”

All the blood rushes to your face, making you feel lightheaded but also conscious of how his skin feels underneath your palm. It is cold, though not as cold as he’d made a big deal out of it. It’s like the room temperature during the spring, at most. But compared to how sizzling it is right now, his skin is nice to the touch, relaxing even.

But all that thought just goes straight out of the window when he shifts on his seat and you can feel his abs muscles contracting.

“Whoa,” he stops, looking at you. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat is insane.”

You smack him on the head and try to suffocate him with your cushion. It doesn’t work since he doesn’t breathe, but at least it can stop him from seeing how flustered you are.

But when another day passes by and your landlord is still taking his sweet time trying to find a cheap handyman to repair your AC, you decide to take on his offer. You know it’s weird for roommates to cuddle but, as you try to reason within yourself, you will be sitting on the-sexiest-man-you’ve-ever-witnessed-with-your-eyes’ lap, your back pressing against his (hopefully) bare chest, and snuggle close until your body heat is no longer screaming at you in agony. You don’t really see any problem with this. After all, you have been imagining how it would feel like to sit on his lap every time he does that manspreading thing on your couch.

So, really, what’s there to lose?

“Okay,” you begin, standing in front of him in an already awkward posture. “So, how can we do this without being weird about it?”

Eren tilts his face up, leaning his back against the couch, phone in his hand. “Do what?”

“Do…” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, what you offered me yesterday.”

“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow in question, but the way one side of his lips curves upward betrays his act. “I forgot. What exactly did I offer you?”

“You’re seriously going to make me say this out loud?”

“Princess, I’m clueless.” His smirk grows wider, his voice dripping with allure. “Please. Enlighten me.”

He’s toying with you, that’s for sure. And no matter how much you want to feel those arms around you, there’s no way you’re gonna let him degrade you like this. “Fine, then forget it,” you sulk, turning around on your heels with your cheeks puffed out but Eren laughs in the most innocent way when he’s clearly nothing like that in reality. Calling your name in a sing-song voice, he circles his fingers around your wrist and tugs you back until you tumble down to his lap.

“You’re never honest,” he says, his velvety voice suddenly only a whisper away. His arms are tied securely around your waist, pulling you close until you can do nothing but lay your back against his chest. “But you’re cute so I forgive you.”

You can’t form a word, too busy trying to compose yourself. You can’t hear his heartbeat—since he’s the creature of the undead, obviously—but you assume with the proximity you’re being, you would’ve definitely heard it if he had one.

You didn’t notice it before but now that you’re sitting on his lap, your palm pressed against his thigh for stability, you realize that he’s wearing black ripped jeans with holes that are oh so terribly distracting. If you dare to move your finger, you’ll be able to trace the smooth skin at the inner part of his thigh.

You gulp hard.

You can hear him snickering behind you. “Thinking something dirty?”

It feels like you almost swallowed your tongue. “What—no!” Flapping your hands in panic, you almost fall from his lap but his fast reflex won’t let you. He embraces you tighter, causing you to fall back to his chest with a small oof.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he chuckles lowly, his lips grazing against your earlobe. “This is nice. We should do this more often. You fit perfectly in my arms.” He says his line sincerely with no trace of humor or teasing in it, which effectively makes you curl your toes in bashfulness.

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep your heart rate going like that, Princess,” he titters.

“Yeah, well,” you try to push him away by pushing your palm against his cheek. “Unlike you, I don’t spend my time snuggling with the opposite sex, so of course I’m nervous.”

“You’re sure it’s not because of me?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’d most likely have a bigger reaction if Armin was the one holding me instead.”

The way he suddenly goes stiff intrigues you, but you don’t dwell on it. “Is that so?” He simply retorts back, his tone suddenly turns cold and it makes you feel queasy.

“So, uhh…” Your breathing tatters when he becomes mute, only the sound of the ticking clock on the wall can be heard. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He only hums, placing his chin on top of your head. Since he’s always so talkative, it gets really tense when he’s quiet. “Did I offend you or something?” You question.

“I don’t know, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

“Then let’s just leave it at that.” Seeing how you keep fumbling with the remote in your hand, he snatches it away and proceeds to switch the channels. “We’re watching Twilight.”

“Nooooooo, not again!”

But his arm, as he raises it high in the air, is longer than yours so you can’t steal back the remote no matter how hard you try. And as you jump up and down, shifting back and forth on his lap, Eren warns, “I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but if you keep doing that, I’m gonna get a hard-on.”

You immediately stay still, hands tucked neatly on your lap, chest thundering. “You—Why—” You shake your head, flushed. “How can you say things like that?”

“Things like what?”

“Sexual things like that.” The more you reveal your thoughts, the more you turn sheepish. “Don’t you have any shame?”

“What, I can’t be honest?” He snorts. “I didn’t mean to harass you or anything. Just letting you know in advance. It’s completely a guy thing.”

“No, it’s not just that. You always flirt with me—calling me baby or princess, telling me how I look cute all the time when you don’t even mean it—“

You’re interrupted with a loud sigh accompanied by an impatient groan. “Turn around. Look at me,” he orders and his tone is irrefutable. When you turn slightly, making eye contact, Eren has his eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring at you. “I know you’re gullible, and I know you’re dense when it comes to things like this but I swear to God, if you don’t start taking a hint, I’m gonna have to push you against the wall and kiss you to prove my point.”

You’re dizzy and nauseous, your stomach is flipping like crazy and you’re conflicted between believing him or laughing at him because although he looks dead serious right now, you can’t help but wonder what if, after you give in to your feelings, he sends you that signature cheeky grin of his to reveal he’s just joking all along? You’re not even brave enough to imagine, even when the vivid image of him pushing you against the wall, his knee slipping between your legs while he brings your wrists over your head and holding them still with one hand is enough to keep you awake for hours.

So you decide to take the easy path. “Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You shrug, acting casual. It’s a miracle that you don’t stutter when you deliver the next line. “You told me to take a hint, that’s what I’m doing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, confused. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything more? Or do anything about it?”

“Nope.”

Slowly, there’s a shift in his expression. He shakes his head in amusement, tongue protruding against the inside of his cheek. “You really are something else.”

Surprisingly enough, he leaves it at that. Though it’s somehow uncomfortable, you follow his lead and just keep your eyes glued to your TV screen as he chooses his movie.

You have no interest in watching Twilight—absolutely nothing, zilch, zip, nada!—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your eyelids start to become heavy in the first thirteen minutes of the show. You would’ve fallen asleep way sooner though, if you weren’t too distracted with the way he laid his hand on your thigh, sometimes unconsciously rubbing or squeezing it with his palm when he got a little bit bored with the scene, causing your breath to get hitched in your throat.

The room’s temperature is still hot even when it’s in the middle of the night, successfully making your bangs stick to your temple. But you feel relaxed as you listen to Eren quietly humming something to himself. Soft, melodious sound is resonating from his chest directly to your ear and you begin to drift away, floating into your dreamland.

***

“Hey, wake up. It’s almost morning.”

Your bleary eyes are greeted by the dim light of the room. The TV in front of you has already been switched off so the only thing that can be heard in your apartment is the buzzing sound coming from your fridge and the faint ticking clock.

“What time is it?” You rub your eyes, not aware that you’re still sitting on his lap, with your spine leaning against his chest. It’s until you feel his arms loosening around your waist that you begin to think, oh fuck, what have I done?

You immediately jump off his lap, tripping over your feet but manage to hold your balance by placing a hand on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You screech, face aflame. “You kept holding me in that position all night?”

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck. “I would've waited until you woke up by yourself, but you know, the sun is about to rise.”

You’re still pretty much flabbergasted by the whole thing. “You really should’ve woken me up.”

“Well, you seemed like you were having the best sleep you’ve ever had.” He stares at you with mischief in his eyes. “Did it feel that good being in my arms, Princess?”

You’re about to explode. “Okay, wow, look what time it is.” You try to look at your wrist and mentally slap yourself harder when you realize you’re not wearing a goddamn watch. “A-anyway, you really should go back to your room before it’s too late.”

He chuckles at your stupid antics before he stands up from the couch. Ruffling your hair once and making a mess out of your strands, he heads back to his room. As he slides open his door, he spares you a glance over his shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You kept calling my name in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”

Whether it’s true or he’s just flirting with you to get your reaction, you don’t want to know. “Just go to your room!”

***

A few moments after the sun sinks below the horizon, Eren comes out of his room with bleary eyes and his shoulders sagging forward.

“Good morning, Princess,” you joke, your hands busy mixing coffee powder, sugar, and milk to make your own version of Dalgona coffee. Eren scratches the back of his head, his eyes are barely open as he heads to the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. When he opens the fridge, he groans loudly, noticing that he forgot to restock his red wine. He slams the door with a loud huff, drags his body to the dining table, and sits down with his cheek pressed against the table. Seeing how you’re not paying him any attention, he groans again, louder and whinier this time.

“Okay, what?” You ask, leaning your back against the counter, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“I’m thirsty,” he grumbles, jutting out his lower lip.

“Then drink.”

“I don’t have any money left to buy even a bag of blood. Why do they have to make it so fucking expensive?” He grouses, pouting. “I mean, I can always steal one but I’m scared of being caught.”

“Scared of being caught? You, with your superhuman speed and strength?”

“Well, they have those security cameras installed all over the place! I don’t want to get arrested or worse, go viral!” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his nonsense. “These fucking technologies, man, I swear to God, they’ll be the death of me someday.”

“Then just go outside. Our town is filled with walking blood bags.”

He groans again, now pressing his forehead against the table. “Man, the effort I have to make just to survive. I’m so done with drinking blood from slutty girls. They’re bitter.” He sticks out his tongue in disgust at the memory.

“Yeah, why is that? Why do you only drink from them?”

“Because they’re the only ones who’ll agree in a heartbeat.” His voice is muffled as his lips are brushing against the surface. “Also the sex isn’t too bad if you can ignore how annoyingly loud they are.”

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” You grimace at the flashback. It really has been a while since he brought one of them back to his room and you were ecstatic about it, knowing you were the only girl he had been giving his attention to. “Why don’t you just compel someone to give their blood? You can erase their memories too after you’re done with them.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a monster.”

It’s cute, you suppose, the way he tries his best to defy his nature. “Then…” You tap your fingers against the mug, somehow feeling timid. “Why don’t you try being in a relationship with someone? I’m sure they’ll be willing to give you their blood if they like you that way.”

“Yeah? With who?”

“I don’t know, like…” Your cheeks grow hot, bringing your face down to conceal your eyes with your bangs. “Maybe just someone you like.”

“Are you volunteering?”

The way he suddenly has you backed against the counter, trapping you inside his arms, and whispering seductively with his lips almost grazing your own makes you jump on your feet. Your mug slips off your fingers, crashing to pieces when it hits the marbled floor.

“Careful!” Eren holds you by the waist, stopping you just a split second away from stepping on the broken glasses. You realize your hands are fisting against the back of his shirt, embracing him for support without knowing. You pull away immediately, clearing your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, letting you go. “I mean I did, but not like this.”

You sigh. “It’s okay, just step away. I need to clean this up.” He tries to help but you won’t let him, as having him in such proximity is only going to blind your senses, unable to function properly. Even just thinking about the way his strong arm fits the curve of your waist a few seconds before already makes you lose focus that you end up cutting your finger with a shard of glass.

He catches the little surprised yelp that escapes your lips and immediately bends down to check on you. “See, this is why I told you to let me clean up instead,” he complains, carrying you to the sink and drenching your finger with running water. “Let me see.” With a hold around your wrist, you can barely do anything but let him examine your cut thoroughly. “Well, it’s not deep but it’s… still…”

Noticing how he trails off, you look up to check on his face, catching how his green eyes are now glowing a bit brighter. His lips are parted as if in awe from the way droplets of blood seep from your fingertip, trickling down to your palm.

“Eren…?”

His eyes start to change color, drifting back and forth from your face to the tear on your skin. You know where this is going but when he brings your hand closer to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood off the lines of your palm, you nearly collapse to the floor.

“Eren, wait—” You hiss, cheeks reddening as you try to retract your hand but his hold is firm on your wrist. He licks his way up before he brings your fingertip inside his mouth. Eren has his eyes closed, a moan almost tumbles off his lip when the coppery taste taints his tongue. He sucks on the wound, wanting to taste more, to rip your skin apart with his teeth and—

“Eren!”

He jolts awake, his irises turning back from scarlet to viridian the second he witnesses the dread that paints your face. His fangs are drawn out but he immediately retracts them before you get a detailed look, his face flushed as he takes a step back.

“Sorry—” He looks away, rubbing his nape with shaky fingers. “I didn’t mean to—shit, I really have to go—I need to drink—” and when you blink your eyes again, he has vanished from your sight.

With your heart thundering inside your rib cages, you lean back against the kitchen counter, your legs trembling underneath your weight.

That was close. So fucking close.

There’s fear growing inside you but it’s not from the memory of him with his fangs extended like the true monster that he was. You’re not scared of him, you’re scared of yourself because you know you want him. Even when you've seen his true form, you still want him and you want him in any way possible. You want him to belong to you, to be with you, to be desperate for your touch, your blood, your presence, your everything, just as much as you are about him.

You bury your face in your palms. I am so fucked.

***

Hours turn into days and days turn into months, and before you know it, it has been a year since he moved into your apartment. The friendship that blooms between you feels nice and you want to keep it that way but it’s getting tough when he keeps on bringing random girls in skimpy dresses back to his room. You used to be furious by how loud they were being, but now you’re pretty much angry just from imagining him being with someone else. And it doesn’t even have to be sexual—just picturing him bonding with another person, even when it’s not as strong as what you two have, already aggravates you so much.

The thoughts of him keep revolving in your head no matter how hard you try to push them away. It even puts your relationship with Armin in jeopardy, as you can barely pay him any attention. It doesn’t surprise you at all when he decides to break things off, saying something cliche like, “I think we’re better off as friends,” and “It’s not you, it’s me,” which in normal circumstances will piss the hell out of you but when that happens, you simply reply with, “You’re right. Let’s be friends.” And there are no hard feelings—no feelings at all, even, which is weird considering you were only a month away from having your first anniversary with him.

Now that Armin is out of the picture, you can finally bring all of your attention back to Eren. But the more you think about it, the more you’re not sure about the whole thing. He’s a vampire, isn’t he? What future do you expect to have with him? Let’s say you date him and things go well with your relationship, and then what? He’s going to stay young with that cute, boyish look on his face and you’re gonna be all wrinkled and gross, how are you ever going to be able to stand that? What if he wants someone prettier than you? What if he gets bored?

Or maybe it’s just lust you’re feeling. You don’t love him, you’re just physically attracted to him. That’s right. Strictly physical.

And yet, as you see him dressed handsomely in a black button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows—him running a hand through his thick, luscious hair as he ties it up to showcase his temple, your mind screams: fuck.

And when he smiles at you, placing a plate filled with the exact dish he knows you love down to the dining table while saying, “I went ahead and did some research about you. I was about to buy you some presents but I thought it would feel more personal if I cooked something for you so,” and stopping to gaze at you with tender eyes before he adds, “Happy birthday, Princess.” You think to yourself: Jesus fucking Christ, just marry me already.

Eren goes all the way with everything, from placing scented candles on the table, playing soft music in the background, even escorting you to your seat, pulling your chair back for you, and setting down a napkin on your lap. It’s too much for your poor brain to comprehend, and your chest is suffocating from all the feelings swirling behind it. Eren looks so beautiful—almost goddamn ethereal, even—in that shirt and those black khaki pants, sporting that sexy man bun. It almost feels unreal to have someone like him standing before you in the dim light of your apartment. He looks like he belongs in one of those romantic renaissance paintings that they display in the museum.

“You’re not hungry?” He asks when a few seconds have passed by and you haven’t munched at your food like a caveman (because that’s what you usually do).

“I’m—you—” You splutter, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you try again. “You look nice.”

You can already tell that he’s about to say something along the line of “But, baby, I always look nice.” So when he just softly smiles back and thanks you about it, telling you how you look just as nice when you know you look like a storm just hit you, you’re pretty much lost for words.

“You seem exhausted,” he comments, frowning in concern. “Hard day at work?”

You can’t trust yourself that you won’t start rambling nonsense again while answering his question so you decide to just reply to him with a feeble nod.

“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “Your heartbeat is going through the roof again.”

You loathe yourself for being so transparent. “I’m nervous because you’re suddenly being so nice to me. I can’t help but think you have a hidden agenda or something.” That’s a lie. A complete lie.

And you’re sure he knows it too. “And what if I do?” He challenges, raising an eyebrow seductively. “What kind of a hidden agenda do you think I have for you?”

Why is it so fucking hot in here?! “I don’t know…” You start fiddling with the fingers you have placed on your lap. “Drinking my blood, maybe?”

His expression is a mystery to you, even when his smirk seems familiar. “And would you be okay if that’s true?”

You can’t answer but fortunately for you, Eren lets out a chuckle, telling you that he was simply making a joke. You force yourself to laugh but it sounds like a wheeze so you stop before it gets even more humiliating.

Eren walks to your seat with a bottle of wine in his hands, sliding down the glass to your side as he smoothly offers, “Wine, Milady? It’s not blood, I swear.” And you believe him because this time, the liquid seems more ruby than crimson.

“You really need to relax.” Eren leans his back against the edge of the table, raising the glass of his usual red wine in the air before he clanks it gently against yours. “To the cutest, sweetest roommate in the world.”

You immediately take a sip to hide the flush that blooms on your face, flinching when the burning, mildly bitter flavor hits your tongue. You’ve never drunk any alcohol in your life and although this first experience feels rather unpleasant, you keep chugging more of it down your system.

“Does it taste good?” He questions, secretly smiling to himself as he witnesses how fast you’re drinking the whole glass down. You shake your head in response, which earns another laugh from him.

You’re not sure whether it’s because it’s your first time drinking alcohol or you just have a low tolerance when it comes to it, but you can feel yourself getting both lightheaded and drowsy not long after. Eren, who takes notice of that, moves you to the couch so you can rest more comfortably. “I better take this away,” he tells you, circling his lean fingers around your wine glass but you stop him.

“No,” you say, eyes a little bit unfocused as you push him away. “I’m fine. Pour me some more.”

“Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“Just another glass, Jaeger, don’t be a bitch about it.”

Your words stun him for a second before he chuckles. “Damn. All right, just don’t blame me for it,” he states as he pours you another one.

“I have a question for you,” you coo as he takes a seat on the coffee table, facing you. “What were you like in the past?”

He freezes, taken aback but collects his composure within seconds. “Why the sudden interest?”

“No reason. It’s just you’ve never really told me about yourself.”

“I thought I’ve told you enough. I even told you about my dick size.”

“Which I never asked.”

“But you were curious.”

You try your best not to get sidetracked. “When I asked you about mind compulsion,” you slur out your words. The alcohol in your system makes you feel brazen. “You looked like you’ve done something in the past. Something… awful.”

You don’t notice the way his hold around his glass tightens at your guess. “Well, they don’t call me a monster for no reason,” he keeps his voice light even when he feels something churning inside his chest. “I did something, yes, but… I promise you I won’t do that again.”

You can sense it again. That feeling where he seems like he wants to say everything but he’s too scared to do so. Reaching out to pat his hand, you assure him, “Eren, you know I won’t judge, right? What you did in the past wouldn’t change the way I think about you.”

His smile is melancholic, eyes dull with sadness. “I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“Afraid of you?” You tease him. “Ren, you’re a six feet tall vampire who’s afraid of cockroaches and makes thirst trap videos as a hobby. There’s literally no way I could be scared of you.”

Your laughter is a delightful symphony in his ear but for the first time, he doesn’t have the energy to mirror you. Your laughter subsides at his reaction, and you slide your fingers past his wrist to tangle around him. “You don’t have to keep everything to yourself,” you utter. “Eren, if you’re in pain, tell me. If you need help, let me know. If you want someone to listen to you, I would love to do so. And if you want someone to accept you for who you are—for who you truly are—not just a vampire but also the person you were before, I will be that for you.” You disentangle your hand from him just to brush a stray lock that falls out of his bun, tucking it behind his ear. “You’re not alone, okay?”

Eren watches you in silence, his lips parted but his tongue can’t shape the words, not when you’re smiling so delicately like this. There’s gratitude welling up inside him, as well as joy and the affection he holds for you, but there’s also fear. What he did in the past was… something he was sure you weren’t ready to hear. He’s afraid that your thoughts about him would change despite your promise. He wants to tell you the truth. He’s dying for you to know every part of him and the past he’s been trying to hide, but… He’s terrified.

He chews on his lower lip, contemplating. “Would you… believe me if I told you I was a prince?”

You blink. “You were?”If you weren’t intoxicated, you would’ve laughed.

“Yeah. Seems very unlikely, doesn’t it, with the way I’m behaving now?” He chuckled sheepishly. “But I was, eight hundred years ago. Before I was turned into… this.” He casts his gaze downward, looking at his palm and remembering the first night where he had warm blood staining his hands and his own fangs puncturing his lip. “I came from a place called Paradis. We were the strongest kingdom on the continent for decades, ruling over four others. I was their second prince.” He’s better at concealing his emotions this time, and with alcohol fogging your thoughts, you fail to notice the way he has his other hand clenching into a fist, his nails digging hard enough to leave marks on his palm. “It’s a boring story, though,” he says, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “I don’t want to put you to sleep. We still have a birthday to celebrate.”

“I wish to know more, actually,” you chuckle, swirling your wine inside your glass before you take a sip. “Eren Jaeger, The Second Prince of Paradis. Has a nice ring to it. Did people announce your title like that when you stepped into the room?”

Eren’s eyes widen as the ghosts from his past come alive in his head. Those voices he’s been trying to silence, those faces he’s been trying to forget, they’re all revived at once.

Look at him. Eren Jaeger, The Devil of Paradis.

A disgrace. A filthy half-blood. He should’ve died, just like that witch.

No. We should kill him.

“Yeah,” Eren swallows. “Yeah, they called me like that all the time.” He brings the tip of his glass to his lips, gulping down a thick amount of blood to distract himself.

Oblivious to what he’s feeling, you move toward another topic. “Does everyone’s blood taste the same to you?”

“It differs,” he answers. “But only faintly. I’m not that picky about it.”

“And how does it feel having your blood sucked by a vampire?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He sways his head from side to side, chuckling lightly. “I mean, of course, I can have my blood drunk by another vampire but I’m not that kinky. I know some vampires who are into that kind of shit though.”

“Well, by the sound of your girls screaming like they were giving birth, it’s either very painful or very…” The sight of him staring at you intently, taking in your features, nearly throws you off tracks. “Pleasurable.”

There’s an awkward pause and silence hangs around to fill the space. The voices inside his head gradually turn into whispers, drowned by the curiosity that builds up within him. You’re being transparent, every emotion, every desire you usually kept hidden is now showing vividly on your face. He doesn’t intend to be cruel, but if this serves as a chance for him to know how you truly feel about him, then he will take advantage of it. “How come you’re asking me these questions?” He asks.

“Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you confess, feeling braver with each second passing by. “And it’s not just about you drinking my blood, but more about you entirely. You know what I mean?”

Eren places his glass down on the table, leaning towards you. If his heart was beating, it would be pounding right now. “Not sure, but I’m all ears.”

“I… just…” It’s getting harder to speak when he’s so close, you can start locating every tiny mole he has on his face and his neck. The small one near his Adam’s apple is the one that distracts you the most. “I just think we’re compatible with each other, you know? And I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company this much before. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re both endearing and so freaking annoying at the same time—how is that possible?”

But Eren isn’t laughing. His eyes are deep and dark, raking over your profiles with so much intensity but when he swats the bangs out of your eyes, his touch is tender. “What else? Tell me more.”

You lean closer to his touch like how a kitten would, making him gulp slightly at the sight. “I get so vexed whenever you spend your time with someone else. I know I have no right to be jealous since we’re just friends but I can’t help it.” You exhale, rubbing the side of your face with your palm. “It’s so fucking tiring to think about you this much when I can’t have you.”

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that when Eren reaches out a hand to touch your face, you jump in surprise, spilling wine all over your blouse. “Shit, this is my favorite shirt,” you whine, hastily settling down your glass on the table. “Can you get me some tissues?”

But what he does is lift your body with both of his arms and carry you to the bathroom. You cling onto him with a yelp, trying to keep yourself away from falling even though you’re sure he’s perfectly able to hold your weight.

Eren places you down on the bathroom counter, your fingers gripping at the edge of your sink. Sitting up straight, you begin to feel conscious of your surroundings. “What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite shirt, right? We need to wash the stain before it sticks,” He explains, his fingers going to your collar. You nearly stop breathing when he asks for permission to undress you, “May I?”

You swallow the lump in your throat before you offer him a weak nod. “Yes.”

He takes time unbuttoning your shirt one by one when you know he can rip it apart easily with one finger. He’s so gentle, his touches are paper-thin but whenever his icy fingertips make slight contact with your skin, it sends electricity to every inch of your body.

When he manages to untangle the clothing from your body, you’re only left in your bra and your white satin lace cami top. You can tell he tries to be polite by not staring at your exposed skin, and instead, focusing on fixing your blouse. He drags it over to the sink, drenching it with water.

“Where did you place the detergent again?” He asks, reaching up over your head to check on the top cabinet and he’s so fucking close that you can see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks. And it’s really, really tempting to just lean over and—

Eren flinches when he feels you sinking your face in the crook of his neck, mapping your lips on his skin and breathing in his scent. You don’t know what vampires usually smell like but Eren reminds you of summer even when you’re not sure what summer smells like. It’s funny how you’re not making sense, even in your own thoughts.

Pushing you away by the shoulders, Eren’s eyes gleam in a way you’ve never seen before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…” You can’t form a word—you can’t even form a thought as you’re too busy staring at his lips, musing over how smooth they look, how thrilling they must feel against your own. And perhaps he’s thinking the same thing about yours too because when you lean in for a taste, he meets you halfway.

The kiss feels warm and it doesn’t make any sense, because the rest of his body is icy cold but as you press your mouth against his, all you can think about is how his lips are hot and soft, so fucking soft and delightful and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you don’t care.

You breathe heavily through your nose, yanking at the collar of his shirt so he’s closer to you than he’s ever been. You tilt your head slightly, angling your face so you can meld your lips deeper against his. He instinctively reacts by holding the side of your face, his fingers slipping between your strands, his tips curling around your nape.

He kisses better than any man you’ve ever been with and you’re sure he’s better than any man you’ll ever date in the future. Eren knows what he’s doing. Even when he’s caught by surprise, his lips are dancing against yours so sensually that they leave you melting in his arms.

Sliding your hand up to his chest, you can tell how his skin stands in contrast to the warmth of his mouth and it makes you shiver. Your breathing rags as you moan into his mouth, letting him taste the alcohol that lingers inside yours. You trace your tongue along the puncture of his fang that’s still retracted, almost as normal as a human’s but something inside you tells you it’s not going to stay that long if you continue with this. Anticipation builds up fast inside you. There’s absolutely no way you’re going to stop what you’re doing.

But Eren is surprisingly more chivalrous than he looks. He pulls away, giving you a few inches of space to break the attraction. It’s not enough, your mind is still heavily clouded by the thoughts of him, so you reach up to kiss him again, catching his lower lip between yours.

“No, wait,” he vocalizes, his voice sounding breathy even when his lungs no longer function in the way they used to. He circles his fingers around your wrists, holding them down against the counter so you won’t be able to move.

“Let me just kiss you,” you plead, eyes dazed and desperate. “Please.”

His chuckles are soft, almost inaudible. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not, I swear.” It’s horribly embarrassing how much you crave his touch as if losing physical contact with him causes you madness. “Hold up your fingers and ask me to count them. I’ll guess it right, trust me, so can you just—” You try to move your hand to pull him close but his grip around your wrist is stronger than your strength. “Eren—”

“Look, I want this just as much as you do—” He cuts his line short and continues it sharply with a groan when he feels your knee sliding between his legs, giving him the friction that he needs. “Fuck. I probably want this more than you do, but—” He loses control for a split second, re-attaching his mouth to yours with so much fervor, tongues desperate to taste one another. The way you whimper against him makes him groan, his hand gliding down your thigh and spreading your legs apart so he can fit himself between them.

It’s when his fangs suddenly puncture your lips, drawing a hint of blood and making you cry out in surprise that he wakes up from his reverie. He pushes himself away immediately to the other side of the room. You almost topple forward from suddenly losing his body to lean on, only managing to keep your balance at the last second by gripping at the edge of the counter.

Eren turns around, facing the bathroom tiles as he leans one hand against the wall while his other one covers his mouth. He curses under his breath, loathing how he nearly lets the monster inside of him take control of his body.

“Eren?”

“Sorry, let me just—“ His shoulders are shaking, trying his best to soothe the thirst that overwhelmed him earlier. His canines feel burning. “They’ll go back in a minute.”

“No.” You jump down from the counter, moving to his spot with careful steps. “Let me see them.”

He shakes his head, unable to find the courage to face you. “Stay away.”

“I want to see them.” You place your hand on his shoulder, caressing him gently until he finally submits to your touch.

You only ever saw him with his fangs retracted twice in your life but even then, it was always too dark and too fast for you to see him properly. But now… Now you can take your time.

God, he’s gorgeous.

His eyes, as they peer into you in concern and the uncertainty that he might hurt you, are radiant, glowing like ambers in the dark of the night. But instead of jade green, they shine luminously in crimson, so strikingly beautiful that you can barely look at anywhere else. His fangs are now twice their usual size but he can still hide them behind his lips if needed. It’s the way they become frighteningly sharp that sends a shiver down your spine but you brave yourself enough to reach out to him.

“Can I… touch them?” You hesitantly ask. Eren looks conflicted by the question but soon gives you a timid nod. He parts his mouth slightly so you can trace your fingertip along his cuspid. It feels like a knife splitting your skin, making you flinch in surprise.

He hastily pulls back, terrified at the thought of hurting you. “S-sorry—”

“Do it with me.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, your heart rate soaring. “I want you to drink from me.”

“You’re being insane—”

“Please.” You lay a hand on his chest, inclining your head and pushing back your hair to expose more skin of your throat. He feasts on the sight of the pulsating vein that paints the side of your neck, his blood boiling with need. “Just try, Eren…”

The glimmer in his eyes shows that he’s yearning to fulfill your wish but he cups your cheek again, fighting back his raging desire to consume you. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Your fingers find home in his waves, pacifying him with your tender touch. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time and—”

A high-pitched yelp that flees from your lips cuts your sentence short and you have to muffle the rest of your scream by mouthing against the fabric that covers his shoulder. Eren doesn’t waste any second after he hears your confession. His canines are prickling against the skin under your jaw, just between the earlobe and the collarbone. It hurts when he sinks them—so, so badly—that tears begin to form almost instantly behind your closed lids.

Eren suddenly lets you go, his ruby eyes widening as he gazes at the way blood is gushing through his bite mark. “Fuck,” he says, “How can you taste so—” and he dives in again, moaning rather loudly when the warmth of your blood fills his mouth, swallowing a big gulp each time. “So fucking good,” he murmurs in pleasure, tightening his hold desperately around your waist as if you’re the thread that keeps him alive.

“Wait—Ah!” You’re being pushed back, your body squeezed between the tiles and the muscles of his chest. The key-shaped pendant he wears above his heart is digging into your skin. He lands one hand against the wall as he sinks his face deeper in the crook of your neck. You fall weak, your fingers fisting the back of his shirt, twisting and pulling until the fabric slides off his shoulders.

The pain only stays for a few seconds before a rush of endorphin seeps into your skin, running through your veins and pumping euphoria to every inch of your body. You begin to relax, eyes becoming half-lidded as you go into a trance, your heartbeat slowing down. You’ve never done any methamphetamine in your life but you imagine that it must feel somewhat like this.

“Eren…” You breathe out, feeling a little bit lightheaded. The strap of your camisole is falling off your shoulder while his shirt is pooling around his elbows. You can feel your knees slowly giving out under your weight and you claw against his back, your fingers gliding against the muscles underneath his shoulder blades as you try to maintain your balance. “Eren, I… I can’t stand…”

He breaks away only to haul you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist, and wind your arms around his neck. He carries you back to the bathroom counter, placing you down on the same spot as before, your legs dangling in the air.

“Better?” He rubs comforting circles with his thumb along your cheekbone, analyzing your expression. You nod, your gaze going down to focus on his fangs again. Your blood paints his lips. Some of it trickles down his chin. He’s a monster, he truly is, but his eyes, though they are now scarlet and flickering like torches, are tender and patient.

He slides his hand down to the hem of your camisole, fingers rubbing against the fabric as he peppers soft kisses along your jawline. “Is this one your favorite too?”

“Huh?” You’re having the hardest time trying to focus. “Oh… No, not really.”

“Well, then,” his lips are still sucking bruises on your neck when he rips both of your camisole and your bra with one flick of his hand, exposing your bare chest to the cold air.

Jolting in surprise, you squeak out his name but you’re silenced with another kiss, one that is so consuming, so deep, so wild that you nearly sob against his mouth. The taste of copper makes you frown in discomfort but the knot starts to loosen when his tongue darts out to meet you in a messy kiss.

His hand goes down to your breast, cupping the side while he runs his thumb along your sensitive bud. You rake your nails against his back in response, aching for more. His other hand is tracing the curve of your waist, going down to your hips before he tears your skirt away. He tosses the clothing somewhere across the room, following your previous ones.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he reminds you, hooking his hands at the back of your knees before he pulls your legs forward. Pressing his hardness against the wetness of your lingerie, you both let out a whine.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Want you so bad, Princess.”

“Me too,” you keen, circling your legs around his waist for stability. “Don’t stop, please,” you murmur against his ear, robbing a low groan from the back of his throat.

It’s unfair that he’s still fully clothed while you’re almost nude. You tug on his shirt and Eren helps you toss it to the floor. You roam your lips to every inch of his bare skin, your lipstick staining the front of his chiseled chest before you mouth against his shoulder.

Eren licks along the wound of his previous bite, emitting a sinful moan when your blood sparks ecstasy in his mouth. His fingers are tentatively rubbing you over your lingerie and you beg with your lips muffled by the skin that covers his collarbone. “Take it off. Just take it off, please—“

You can feel a tiny laugh reverberating from his chest from how desperate you’re being but you don’t care. You really are that desperate.

Eren is more than willing to comply, sliding your lingerie down your thighs and you help him push it off your legs completely. You guide his palm to your heat, breathing out his name in a soft moan when his fingers promptly slide between your folds, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His mouth finds its way down the valley of your breasts and he goes lower and lower until he has his head between your legs.

You nibble at your lip in anticipation when he presses open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh. Eren makes sure he has his eyes fixed on yours when he dips his fangs into your supple skin, making you quiver with the sensation. The second bite isn’t as shocking as before and you’re so aroused by the little mmm that escapes him. He drinks from your thigh, his tongue flicking over the wound before he sinks his teeth again, maintaining his gaze on yours all the while. “Sweet…” His moans are so sexy and obscene, you feel like you can listen to them forever. “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess.”

“God, Eren.” You’re going insane, you can feel it. “I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me.”

And he probably is too because he’s abandoning all of his self-control at once. The way he sucks bruises on your skin, lapping at the trail of blood that painted your body is almost animalistic, raw passion mixed with lust and uncontrollable desire. He drags his mouth to your center, tongue darting out to lap at your folds this time. Your hand goes straight to his head, slipping your fingers between the strands before you tug on his bun. He grunts a little when he feels you yanking at his roots, his hair tie sliding off until his strands fall loose, brushing against his shoulders.

You rock your hips against his mouth, his eyes glowing even brighter, filled with lust. He retracts his fangs just so he can suckle on your clit, abusing the same spot with his expert tongue. You taste even sweeter than your blood, intoxicating him to his bones.

“Come back to me,” you plead. “I need you.”

He returns to his feet and unbuckles his belt in a hurry, his mouth finding purchase on yours again. He pushes his jeans and briefs down just low enough to release himself from his confinement. You can feel his tip grazing against your clit before he glides his length down your folds, pulling you by the legs so you’re almost lying down on the counter with your upper back pressed against the mirror behind you.

His eyes are hooded but they speak reassurance when they bore into yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

Now that it finally sinks you’re going to do this for the first time, your lustful desire quickly changes into jitters. You nod, permitting him to proceed.

The feeling of him stretching you little by little is excruciating and he can tell that too, hissing, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” as his eyebrows adjoin in the middle. Unable to handle the pain, you reach out a hand to stop him but he grabs your wrist and plunges his teeth into your skin.

Another jolt of pain sends tremors all over your body before the rush of endorphin hits you like a wave, gradually reducing your pain until you’re in haze again, blissful even, but also even more aroused than before.

“You’re okay?” He licks the blood that trails down your arm before he presses a lingering kiss against your veins. “Are you still in pain?”

You’re breathing hard but you can feel your heartbeat slowing. “No. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He brushes his smile against your forehead before he returns to position. “Let’s start slow, okay?”

“No…” You push your body forward, tangling your arms around his neck. “Don’t hold back.” You lean close to his ear, kissing his shell once before you whisper, “I want you to fuck me, Ren.”

His grip on your thigh tightens, his mouth colliding with yours in a frantic kiss. “I’m gonna move,” Eren gives his final warning before he rams his hips forward, filling you up so deep, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Even when he said he was going to be gentle with you, he’s doing the exact opposite. Or maybe he is going gentle, which only makes you wonder how wild he can be once he stops caring about your safety. The thought of him losing control of his mind as he pounds into you senselessly makes you shudder, your walls closing hard around his length.

“My God.” The feeling of your heat enveloping him—squeezing around him—makes him drop his temple on your shoulder, dissolving him into a groaning mess. “You are driving me insane, do you know that?”

“I can take it.” You hold his face, caressing his sharp jawline with trembling fingers. “It’s not painful anymore, so please, just… Do whatever you want with me.”

“But I’ll break you.” Although his eyes speak like he wants nothing but to grant your wish.

You let your tongue slide up from his chin to his lower lip, stopping just to whisper, “Then break me apart, I don’t care,” before you crash his mouth with yours again.

Eren’s thrust is both deep and hard, knocking your breath with each drive of his hips as he holds you by your waist, nails clawing into the skin. Maybe it’s because there’s still a trace of endorphin in your body that heightens all your senses and washes all your pain away because everything feels so unbelievably good. His touches, his kisses, his thrusts, and the way he moves his hips faster and faster until you can’t properly breathe—everything feels amazing.

And his voice—God, his voice—the way he moans and grunts against your ear, or when he sprouts expletives while he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck, lips scorching hot against your skin, makes you think fuck, why did I waste a fucking year doing nothing when I can have him like—

You’re interrupted from finishing your thought when Eren suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss. He turns you around, forcing you to land on your feet again with your stomach pressed against the edge of the counter. You place both hands on the marbled surface as he pulls your hips closer to him, pressing his hardness against your behind as he glues his chest to your spine.

“Come here, look,” he says, holding you by the jaws and elevating your face just enough so you can gaze directly into the mirror. He shifts his hand, now holding back your bangs so your eyes are reflected perfectly. “Look how beautiful you are,” he purrs right next to your ear, the tip of his nose brushing against your jawline.

It’s both embarrassing and arousing to see yourself being held domineeringly by him, the curves of your body fit his perfectly even from behind. Your lips are bruised and swollen, blood smears messily around your neck, your wrist, your thigh even on your hips from the way he trailed his coated fingers along the skin.

Eren raises two of his blood-smeared fingers to your lips, mixing your lipstick with your own blood before he slowly drags his fingers away, painting blurred lines of crimson on your cheek. He sighs at the sight, eyes half-lidded as they glow brighter. “If I’m a monster,” he says, voice low and breathy, “Then you’re a fucking goddess.”

You shiver as you avert your gaze, ashamed of how sultry you look in the mirror and how sinful his gaze is as they rake over your body. He presses close, completing the dip of your spine with his chest like a matching puzzle. His fingers curl around the front of your neck, forcing you to look at your reflection once more as he licks a stripe up your wound. “We look good together, don’t you think?”

You’re panting hard, chest heaving up and down with each breath you take. “Eren…” You long for him to fill you again like before. “Please, just—"

He glides his hand down between your legs, teasing your cunt with small touches but strong and fast enough to make you quiver. “So sensitive too,” he chuckles, nipping slightly at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Before you can retort anything back, he pushes the head of his cock into your heat again, agonizingly slowly at first but slams the rest of it with one snap of his hips.

“I’ve thought about this—about us. I’ve been thinking about you so much, it scares me,” he confesses, with low groans interrupting his lines. He thrusts steadily into you, his cock rubbing deliciously against your walls. “You’re driving me crazy with that face of yours. Your lips, your voice—whenever you call my name, whenever you pout after losing an argument—the way you secretly stare at me wherever I go—ah, fuck—”

“I don’t—” You gasp, thighs trembling under your weight. He wraps an arm along your stomach, holding you still while he pushes in deeper. “I never—”

“And the way you lie just like now,” He chuckles, kissing the middle of your shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re so cute—so fucking cute that it pisses me off whenever you talk about Armin when we both know he can’t satisfy you the way I do—he doesn’t understand you—doesn’t get your stupid jokes—” He begins to fall out of rhythm, hips moving faster with each thrust. “He doesn’t deserve you—I deserve you.”

You catch the sight of your reflection, noticing how he sometimes throws his head back in pleasure, his strong hands gripping the sides of your waist as he rolls his hips, again and again, thrusting into you until you can only cry out his name and nothing more. It’s too obscene, too erotic for your eyes to witness, and when he locks his gaze with yours in the mirror, you nearly faint.

“E-Eren—” You reach out a hand behind you, trying to find him for support but he holds your wrist against your spine, pumping into you with strong strokes. He leaves you with no option but to press the side of your face against the marble countertop, your mouth parting in a silent scream.

The sounds of his groans and your whimpers echo through the bathroom walls, along with the sound of your skin slapping against his. His teeth prickling against your shoulder, his eyes drifting back to the mirror to see how you look underneath him. He sinks his fangs deep into you one more time, making various sounds of pleasure as he drinks your blood.

“Ren—”

“Cum,” he orders, growling against your skin. “Come on, baby, I need you to cum on my cock." The sensation of his thrust, his fingers slightly choking you as he holds you by your neck, and the amount of endorphin that washes over you soon drives you to your release. You mewl out his name, clenching tightly around him. "Mmm, yeah, fuck, just like that—" Eren lets out a guttural moan with his head thrown back in pleasure. He's not giving you a chance to ride your orgasm slowly as he continues ramming his length into you. "Perfect. You're so fucking perfect, Princess. Feel so good around my cock—”

A train of expletives tumbles from his mouth as he embraces you closer, feeling every shake that you emit directly with his body. You’re not sure if it’s from the loss of blood or everything else combined, but your vision starts to blur and suddenly your world turns black.

***

When you wake up, you’re lying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling you’ve seen a million times with your eyes barely open. You’re still pretty much in a haze, not sure if you’re still floating inside your dream or you’ve returned to reality. It’s until your door opens with a click that you can start to differentiate.

“Ah, you’re awake.” He peeks inside through the door holding your favorite mug, already dressed back in his favorite black tee and matching jeans. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Can I come in?”

He walks in without needing an answer and, weirdly, he doesn’t seem nervous or awkward. Unlike you whose blood is rushing fast to your face, your heart thrashing wildly inside your rib cages. A flashback comes in like an unstoppable train and you almost reach out a hand to your neck, wanting to know if his bite marks are still there.

The way he acts is so natural that you begin to wonder whether all that happened was simply your imagination. But when you try to move your body, jolts of pain run like electricity to your bones, and you freeze. It feels like somebody is trying to crack your head open, tearing your body apart. You fall back to the bed, weak and enervated.

“You all right?” He immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed before he gathers your face in his hands. He observes you closely, looking for signs of discomfort. “Be careful, okay? You lost a lot of blood, so I wouldn’t move too much if I were you. I brought you some coconut water. Here,” he places the mug down on your nightstand. “And some supplements too. They’ll help with your blood loss. I’ll cook some fish and eggs for dinner later.”

You can only nod, too tired to even speak. His eyes begin to soften, his fingers reaching out to caress the strands of your hair. “I guess I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry.”

“A bit…?” You croak out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, unable to stop a smile from forming on his face. “I tried so hard not to but you were so cute.” He leans closer, his lips hovering above yours but he rethinks his decision before he closes the gap. He moves to bestow a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “Call me when you need help. I’ll be right outside.”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he stands up from the bed, but the way he trips on his feet once makes you realize that oh, maybe he’s embarrassed about all of this too.

“Eren.”

He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as he lays a hand on your doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Where does this leave us?”

His face turns stern. Spinning over to face you, he questions further. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you pause, wetting your lip in anxiety. “Do you want us to pretend it didn’t happen?”

His eyes darken, seemingly upset. “Do you?”

“I… Uhh…” Your heart is beating so fast that you feel nauseous. “I don’t, but—”

“Then don’t suggest something like that,” he sighs, walking back to your bed again. He kneels on the floor so you’re eye-to-eye, squeezing your hand with his larger one. “Don’t scare me, okay? I finally have you where I want you.”

You look away, attempting to hide your flustered face. “But then, what are we now?”

“I don’t care what we are. I just want us to keep doing this.”

“Doing what, having sex? Drinking my blood?”

“No, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, of course, that too. Plenty of that. But what I meant was I want to continue to have this kind of relationship with you. Just the two of us living together, making fun of each other, or spending hours watching re-runs of your stupid TV shows.”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They’re stupid. I only watch them because of you. You are my favorite show.” He winks to break the tension and you blurt out laughing, shoving him playfully by the shoulder. But when your giggle starts to fade, Eren leans in to cup your cheek, smiling softly. “I just want to spend more time with you, as long as you’d let me. So can we have that? Please?”

“I…” You’re so captivated by his features. The perfect shape of his lips is the one that steals your attention away. “I guess…”

“You guess?” He scrunches up his nose cutely like a child. “You’re playing hard to get again? Really? After all the begging you did in the bathroom?” Seeing you turn flustered only makes him want to tease you even harder. “What was it that you said? God, Eren, I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me—“

“Okay, shut up, geez!” You slap a hand against his mouth, steam practically coming out of your ears. “Yes, we can have that. I’d… love to have that actually.”

Kissing your inner palm, he lovingly smiles against your skin, appreciating your honesty. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?”

***

A/N:

There will be a prequel for this fic, called BEFORE DAWN, which will flesh out more details on Eren's background story when he was a royalty 845 years ago. It will be a tragic love story between a prince and his servant, and how he ended up being turned into a monster at the end.

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!

If you haven't read the other story I made for Vampire Eren called MIDNIGHT BITE, you can check it out here.

SUPER MASSIVE THANKS to Nokky and Sandra for being my first readers. I love you girls so soooo much ❤️❤️❤️

Also, this is a rewrite of my old NCT fic called Love Bites so if it feels familiar, you know why hehe

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-jaeger @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza Thanks for reading, lovelies! ❤️

#eren smut #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren #DAMMMMN #it’s hot in here

[oh-honeyz]

you say the word, im on the way | e. yeager

♤ tags ;; fem!reader, cheating (on reader but not by eren), exes to lover, past toxic relationships, arguing and insults, very emotionally charged sex, co-dependency (in a way), childhood friends to lovers, streamer!eren (BARELY mentioned), make-up sex, oral (f!recieving),, unprotected sex, so much dirty talk, praise kink, petnames angel, baby, pretty girl, eren kinda.. talks to ur pussy djhsdj, 18+

♤ wc ;; 10.2k (utter agony)

♤ a/n ;; i really like. this isn't the best. but that's fine i had a lot of fun alr. very self indulgent. title from teenage fever by drake.

♤ synposis ;; after your boyfriend cheats on you, your ex, eren, shows up for you against all odds. you give into him against your best interest.

You wait for him on the side of the road. 

The rain is coming down in heavy sheets. You’re soaked to the bone having left in a hurry with only a single suitcase of your things. Your phones nearly dead, less than 20 percent with an ever-depleting battery. The closest place to charge your phone is too long to walk in this weather.  And it’s so late the buses have stopped running. 

Even if you could leave, it’s dark and dangerous. Your heart is in your throat, and the only streetlight is so far it hardly makes you feel any safer. You don’t know a single person in your ex-boyfriend's hometown other than his parents, but you aren’t sure you can face them right now if you wanted to. 

It’s not like you wanted to call Eren. Or for him to see you as sorry as you are. Dehydrated, exhausted, emotionally battered - you don’t even like seeing Eren when you’re at your best. You’re sure as soon as you get into his car, he’ll start arguing with you. You’ve spent the last 15 minutes mentally readying yourself for his harsh comments whatever they may be. 

You don’t have the luxury of being picky. He’s safer than venturing by yourself or taking an Uber. And he owes you one, anyway. Nows a good of a time as any to take him up on that. 

Relief fills your whole body when you see a car pull up onto the side of the road. It’s an all-black sports car. Typically Eren, it sticks out sorely from all the other cars that have passed by. Wiping your eyes, you clear your vision to see Eren inside. He’s wearing a black cap and mask. 

Your feet sink in the mud as you walk up to the car, but he beats you to the punch. Approaching you in the dead of night with a sort of anger you can feel before you even look at his face. He has a jacket with him made of that thin plastic material. 

Before you open your mouth, he’s pulling the poncho over your head. He puts your arms through before he drags you by the wrist to his car. Hurriedly, you grab your suitcase and track it through the mud while you follow. Your voice is too hoarse to protest him, but you shout over the rain. 

“Fuck Eren,” You half yell, wriggling your wrist free from his grip “Let me go,” 

When he does, you stumble forward. You don’t get a look at his face as he walks over to the driver's side. In your exhaustion, you don’t think twice about it or assume he was doing it on purpose. You resign yourself. Hearing the back trunk of his car open, you try and read his face through the tinted windows. But even with the lights on, you can’t. 

Sighing, you truck it towards the back. Your feet sink into the soft earth under you, huffing as you pick it up and shove it into the trunk. After you close it, you hurry back to the passenger seat, finally opening the door to see Eren. 

He doesn’t even look at you when you do, eyes focused on the road. You stare at the interior of his car, grimacing at the thought of having to pay him back for getting it covered in mud. Left without a choice, you get in. 

The plastic on his seat tells you he might’ve thought ahead. You aren’t sure if you should be comforted by that or not. 

The door closes with a soft thud as you get to sit. The sound of the rain is muted almost instantly and leaves you with nothing but the radio, virtually silent, and Eren with a hand over the wheel. You put your seatbelt on and then settle more into your seat. Turning your body to face the window. The tension in the air is so thick you can feel yourself choke around it, breathing through your nose. 

Eren’s car smells like spearmint. You’re expecting to be berated at some point, for inconveniencing him or otherwise. After all, you called him through a sob and asked him for something you’re sure he’d rather not be doing. 

Instead though, he puts the car in drive, steps on the gas, and does a turn until he’s back on the road home. 

He doesn’t say a word or even looks at you. Maybe reminding him of the fact he owed you meant he was going to treat this interaction as entirely transactional, which is infinitely better for you. You let out a breath of relief, shivering. He turns on the heat without you asking. 

You decide against speaking and give him a glance of acknowledgment. He doesn’t return the gesture. 

You hear your phone buzz in the pocket of your pants, and fish it out. As you expected, it’s just your ex-boyfriend. A slew of missed messages and calls. Your eyes hurt getting adjusted to the bright lights as you send him a quick stop texting me tonight before clicking it off. You want to throw your phone in the river, and yourself. To float down somewhere far from here, and pretend nothing ever happened. 

With the white noise of rain no longer drowning out your invasive and sad thoughts, you find yourself choking back more tears. The wound is still fresh, tender, and bleeding. 

You’ve always had bad taste in guys. 

But you thought this time would be different. He was different. Patient, and attentive and so thoughtful. It was always stable. You met his family, for fuck sake. His mom, dad, and sister - are all good people. A nice house with a garage, health insurance, and a college graduate. From a different place than you and your friends. 

It was never all that exciting, but you thought it was better that way. To keep it simple. You put in the effort to make it work. Got comfortable with complacency, and waved off all of your friends when they insisted you should date someone better. Someone who suited you more. 

Maybe someone like Eren. The thought makes your stomach sour. 

But your ex, he wasn’t a bad guy. It wasn’t so easy. He was safe, and after your other experience with romantic relationships- safety wasn’t something you could dismiss with the idea of deserving more. More was abstract and intangible. Slippery. 

 You were content, so you stayed. Stability, you told yourself, I just want stability. 

He was the last person you could imagine cheating on you. Unsurprisingly with a girl from his hometown who he’d told you about before and swore he got over. Feeling stupid, you let out an exasperated laugh. It’s your fault for trying so hard. For taking his inch and trying to turn it into a mile.

For believing it’d be enough to try. Maybe you know better than anyone, there are just some people you never get closure with. That distant look in his eyes concerned you. But a guy like him didn’t seem like he’d cheat. 

You’ve never been so wrong. 

Your stomach rumbles as you close your eyes and go over the fight. Subsequently, you forget Eren is even in the car with you. His presence fades into the background, face pained as you think of your exes apologies. He seemed sorry. 

But you’re not someone who can forgive or forget easily - so you broke up. It just complicates everything. Already broken up, but you have to get your things. Find a place to stay for the month because it’s too expensive to go home early. Delete him off your socials, and maybe get in touch with your therapist again. The laundry list of post-break-up things to do is the most frustrating and most taxing. 

The emotional healing and distrust go in some compartment until you can actually unpack them. After the initial devastations scabs over, you’re sure the sore feeling of sadness will come back with a vengeance. 

That’s later though, and this is now. 

Moping is a pipe-dream, seeing as you’re in a place where you have no one and nothing. The only person you know lives here is Eren, but you’re not really expecting any help from him after tonight. Maybe 3 days max, if he’s feeling generous enough. 

At the very least, he must feel pretty sorry for you. No snippy remark or sarcastic gripe since you’ve gotten in. You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, just as before. It’s almost impossible to get a read on his face, and that thought leaves your mouth bitter. 

As bitter as a favor. As bitter as a memory, you swipe your tongue on your teeth to rid yourself of the taste but it lingers. 

You avert your eyes to your hands, peeling the skin off the edge of your fingernails. After a minute or two, you drive in front of a stoplight. The red reflects onto your sneakers and into Eren’s car. 

“So,” He starts, voice filled with that familiar sharpness “How’s the boyfriend?” 

Ah. There it is. He almost disarmed you with his silence. It’s a weird way to start scolding you, but you’ve never really understood why Eren does what he does. You sigh, clearing your throat. It’s thick with tears you’ve been shedding all evening. 

“Ex-boyfriend.” 

The light goes green, and he takes a right. He lives farther than you thought. 

“How’d you fuck it up this time?” 

Normally, his insistence on blaming you would frustrate you. It’s classically Eren. The projection was always the name of the game when you two were dating, especially at the sour end of your relationship. 

Your desire and ability to fight are diminished though, turning into ember and ash. Giving him a shrug, you laugh a bit. 

“Don’t know,” You say with a little more honesty than you were intending to  “I just uh. I don’t know.” 

He sighs this time, and his voice goes a touch soft. Sympathy feels worse than his anger. How pathetic you must look settles in. 

“...What happened?” 

It’s hard to get yourself to say it. Even though you know it. Getting the words out feels like climbing a mountain. You lean back into the headrest and turn away from him. Watching the passing cars intently, you smile. 

“He cheated on me. From uh, a girl with his hometown,” You say, forthright. Hoping his pity might make him go easy on you “His first love. I came home and found them in our bed,” 

You can feel him go stiff beside you. 

You realize that anything he said to you right now probably wouldn’t hurt. The numb pain outweighs everything else that you think it’d slide off your back.

“And?” 

“Uh... I don’t know. She left. And we got into a fight. Broke up with him and said I’d figured something out. Just didn’t really want to be in the same room with him,” You sigh, rubbing underneath your eyes “Packed my shit and sort of wandered around trying to figure out what to do. Called you when I saw how late it got,” 

“Should’ve called me earlier,” He says simply. You chuckle. 

“Like when?” 

He huffs. 

“Earlier. Would’ve picked you from his place and fought him or something.” 

You smile somberly. 

“I thought about it, buut I thought that'd upset him, so I didn’t,” 

This he scoffs at, anger in his voice. 

“That’s so like you,” 

You wish you could disagree. 

“Yeah,” You say back, unsure of what else to do “Yeah, guess it is.” 

“What’re you gonna do now?” 

You take a deep breath in. 

“I won’t be in your hair long. I’ll try and score an Airbnb and wait it out. Leaving early is expensive as fuck.” 

“You could stay with me if it’s just a couple of weeks,” He offers easily “Airbnbs are more expensive than a ticket, right?” 

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that? Does she know you’re picking me up?” 

He stares out into the road, jaw clenched. 

“We broke up a while ago.” 

“What happened there?” 

“None of your business.” 

You scoff. 

“Of course, it isn’t,” You reply, a little angrier than you can control “Your personal life never is. My mistake. I’m a little rusty on how this works.” 

His voice is so cold it’s chilling. 

“Don’t,” He grits, hands hard on the steering wheel “Don’t fucking start,” 

“I’m not trying to start anything. But it’s hypocritical for you to ask me about the shit that just happened and not even tell me why you and your girlfriend broke up.” 

“I’m doing you a favor,” He justifies in a half-hearted way you’ve grown accustomed to “I deserve to know,” 

You laugh, voice strangled. 

“You deserve a fucking foot up your ass,” You spit, suddenly shaking “A simple ‘It’s complicated or ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ would’ve sufficed.” 

“You’re still good at picking fights,” He goads, mouth twisted in a sneer “Did you nag him too? Maybe that’s why he went crawling back to his first love” 

It’s too far. He’s too far, and he knows it. It’s all over his face, even masked in anger. You shoot him a deadly look, arms crossed over your chest. Suddenly, tears well up in your eyes and you can’t even look at him. It was a mistake, of course it was. You shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting anything from Eren was your own fault. Even basic decency.

Whatever camaraderie you used to have dissolved a long time ago. You bite your tongue

“You’re the fucking worst,” You sniffle, closing your eyes “Just drop me off at a hotel. I don’t want to be around you. It’s my fault for assuming you’d be civil.” 

His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight. 

“Tell me how you really feel,” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’m being plenty civil right now,” 

“Fuck. Do you get off on provoking me? On hurting my fucking feelings?” Your voice comes to a scratchy yell, unable to contain the anger in it “I just got fucking cheated on. In the middle of a city where I don’t know a single person other than you. You’re the last person I want to fucking see, Eren. The last,” 

“So why’d you call me crying?” 

“I didn’t have a choice! If I had a choice, I would’ve called anyone else. Would’ve called Jean or Connie or Armin—anyone. Anyone who isn’t fucking you.” 

He clicks his teeth. 

“Liar,” He says with the sort of confidence that floors you “You would’ve still called me even if everyone we know was in the city,” 

It stings that he’s right. Your strength crumbles. 

“So what if that’s true? What does it matter that I thought of you? That’s always been my issue, right? How’d you put it again?” You laugh out loud, a little out of it “I should stop expecting anything from you, right?  It’s my fault. I should just stop having expectations for anyone. It must be me.” 

He looks a little strained. Almost sorry. You scoff. 

“Yeah,” You mumble, exhausted “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. No matter how much I heal, or how hard I try to do the right thing” 

“Y/N—” 

“I worked on myself. Went to therapy. Took time off from dating altogether. Did everything right and still,” Your mouth fills with iron “Still. Still. I can’t find one person to treat me decently. Congrats, Yeager. It’s just like you hoped.” 

The silence that follows says more than you ever could. You rub your temple. He’s probably right that you pushed it. 

“Sorry for snapping on you,” You reply, voice tense “But, I still want to be dropped off at a hotel.” 

“Why?” 

You laugh. 

“What do you think? Think we’re gonna be able to play house for two weeks? It hasn’t even been an hour and we’re fighting,” 

He’s thinking. You can see it on his face, the tight strain of his jaw, and his brows. You haven’t seen him in person for more than a couple of years. But the familiarity always lingers. It doesn’t feel unusual, even the fighting. 

He hasn’t changed. That much is obvious. 

You shouldn’t have called, you think. It might’ve been better to get hypothermia and walk to the nearest motel.

“It’s not your fault he cheated on you,” He says. You think it’s his way of apologizing, a piss poor attempt at comforting you “Guys are just scumbags. Hung up on their first love or whatever. It’s not uncommon,” 

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. Frankly, you don’t have the energy for either.

“Does that include you?” You attempt to joke. To your surprise, he laughs. His voice is hoarse, and a touch resentful. Not at you, though. That feels important. 

“Yeah.” He replies, not looking over at you “Me especially,” 

It’s the first time he’s said as much about himself in your presence. Before it was that you didn’t understand him or that you didn’t get it. It’s too early to retract your previous statement. Hope sparks anyways. For what, you don’t want to know. 

You nod sagely.

“You especially,” You affirm without any trouble “At least you know.” 

This time, he smiles at you. It’s barely there. This whole conversation and the good nature of it is like walking on eggshells. You both know that. 

Eren breaks the silence first as he pulls into another lane. 

“Stay with me for tonight,” He offers “Just tonight,” 

You don’t know why he insists. A loud yawn slips through your lips and your inclination to protest dwindles before being snubbed out completely. Shivering, you nod. Your head feels heavy. 

“If you say so,” 

You think you feel a pair of eyes on you before sleep washes over you like a tide. They might be Erens, but in your delirium, you can’t be sure. It doesn’t take much for you to succumb to sleep. 

__ 

After your car ride ended, Eren woke you up gently to help you inside. This time, he took your luggage without your asking and helped you into his home. 

He lives in one of those luxury apartments with a doorman. It’s fancier than you could ever imagine yourself living in. There’s a chandelier in the lobby, with a gym and a pool.  Trekking mud into such a nice place makes you feel guilty. Eren seems unbothered. 

You take the elevator up to the 7th floor, and then a right into the hallway. Eren fishes the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

This is a bachelor pad. It’s the first thing that crosses your mind when you enter.

 The decoration is minimalist and expensive. Boyish in its extravagance, littered with pricey things only Eren Yeager would buy. The couches are black, the carpet is white and the windows are big panes that overlook the entire city. 

A flatscreen takes up most of the room. There’s a kitchen but it looks unused. It’s lived in, in the way that there are running shoes and clothes. Mess that happens when you spend your time somewhere, but it’s void of things a girlfriend would have in the house. You would know. 

On one of the walls is a painting of a woman's naked body, tastefully done. From what you remember of Eren’s ex-girlfriend, she’d have his head over something like that. 

Eren clears his throat behind you. When you turn to look at him, he looks a little sheepish.

“Broke up a while ago huh,” 

He looks surprised at your deduction. You poke your head at the painting. 

“She would’ve beat your ass for even thinking about putting that up,” 

His expression is affirmative. After you’re done taking it in, all of your sensory issues hit you all at once. You pull the sleeves of your soaked hoodie over your hands but you’re freezing. His eyes widen. 

“Ah, shit. Let me get you a towel. I’ll turn the heat up too,” 

“Thanks, ‘ren.”

The nickname slips out of habit, but you don’t get a chance to retract it as Eren shuffles off to grab you a towel.

 It doesn’t take him very long, a few in hand. You watch him idly as he turns on the heat before hurrying back over to you, shoving towels your way. You make him hold them for a minute, taking off your poncho and hanging it to him. 

You dry yourself off to the best of your ability as Eren goes to put away the raincoat. 

“Mind if I shower?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Would be concerned if you didn’t. I can get us food or something while you’re in there,”

“That’s… thoughtful of you. I’d appreciate it. I can Venmo—”

He puts a hand up, sitting on the back of his couch while you dry yourself off. 

“Save your money if you’re worried about it.” 

“I don’t want to owe you anything.” 

Your frank way of speaking to him irritates him, same as always.

“You won’t owe me,” He assures first “I know we hate each other's guts now, but I’m not gonna let you go hungry.” 

Warm. It makes you feel warm. You avert your eyes as you dry yourself off. 

“Your mom would have your head,” You murmur. He laughs. 

“My mom might forgive me. Zeke and my old man would hang me like a flag,” 

“How’s Zeke been?” 

His expression goes dry. They’re fighting. Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Fine. On my ass, as usual. Business is good. I’ve got a niece now. Zeke’s wrapped around her finger,” 

You’ve seen it floating on social media. You feel a little melancholy. It must show on your face. 

“You should still visit home sometimes. Don’t be a stranger,” 

You smile sadly.

“Easier said than done,” 

“...Even if you don’t see me. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jean hasn’t stopped bitching about you going to see just Armin.” 

You don’t know if he catches it. He misses you. You’re too afraid to confront it but unable to ignore it. You think over his words.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” You start, voice slow “But after everything… after everything.”

There’s a minute where neither of you talks. Yet it’s not silent. The room is tense with everything you want to say or everything you did. Every regret, every memory starts to buzz all at once inside of your ribs like a spark of electricity through your hollow. 

“If tonight didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again,” 

He shakes his head with the same confidence as before. 

“I would’ve found you.”

He says it like it doesn’t need any explanation. As casual as relaying the weather to you. He gives you a look, scratching his jaw. 

“Go shower. How’s Thai? Same as before?” 

It takes you a second to find your voice. 

“Y-Yeah. Same as before. Where’s your shower?” 

He directs his eyes towards the bathroom. You grab your small luggage on your way, offering him a quiet thanks. The sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, faster than the pounding rain. 

__ 

Time passes like sand between your fingers. 

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a full stomach - you and Eren are left totally in each other's company. Your expectation of it being awkward or even marginally uncomfortable becomes unthinkable after a while. Despite how late it is, you aren’t tired or all that sad. 

Truthfully, you don’t know how to handle how familiar Eren feels. Like a durable winter coat with a heavy and comforting weight on your shoulders. It’s not burdensome to talk to him. He matches your pace and picks up easily on your quips. Natural lulls in conversation don’t feel uncomfortable and every misdirect or anecdote opens the door for more conversation. 

Maybe you should’ve expected that. You and Eren grew up together. Along with Mikasa and Armin, and everyone from your hometown. It shouldn’t surprise you that Eren is comfortable. 

When you look at him, you see home. If your gaze lingers. even a second too long or if you think for a minute more than necessary, you’re caught in the web of memories you’ve spent your whole life making. 

You wonder about your ex-boyfriend. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. Maybe it hurts because you understand perfectly. No matter how much you love after, there’s nothing like first love. If he saw that in her eyes, it’s all that much harder to feel angry. 

The only thing keeping you grounded is remembering that you’ve tried before and it failed miserably. It sinks you when you float too close to your heartwarming nostalgia. 

The acrid truth is that this is all temporary and circumstantial. 

Every now and again you remind yourself you’ve just been very vulnerable. And Eren’s grounding presence is helping you. 

Again and again, you remind yourself that. 

“High school was so ass,” Eren leans back into the couch, stretching his legs out “Mrs. Carnegie was such a bitch,” 

You give him an unimpressed look. He looks like you remember when he’s like this. Having changed into his own clothes, hair tied up messily. He’s adjacent to you on the couch, far enough to stretch his limbs comfortably.  

“She was nice to me. She was a bitch to you because you kept interrupting class,” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“And who was I doing that for?” 

Your heart skips a beat. . 

“Man, whatever.”

He laughs at you. 

“Weak come-back,” He hums, laying his head on the back of his couch. He tilts his head in your direction “I was a good boyfriend in high school at least,” He adds, a little softer. 

“You were. You were kinda like a puppy,”

He groans. 

“Don’t say it like that, that’s humiliating.” 

“What are you talking about? Puppies are cute.” 

“Yeah, but hearing that now is embarrassing. I’m a man now,”

You raise a brow.

“Men can't be cute like puppies?”

“No,”

“But Armin is right there,”

“Doesn’t count. He literally looks like a fairy prince. Statistical anomaly,”

That makes you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts. 

“Why’re you laughing? Am I wrong?” 

“You just said it so seriously. He is an anomaly but I think Connie is cute in a puppy way too,” 

“Connie’s bald ass? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I like it, his hair looks good buzzed.”

“You’d find something nice to say about a pile of trash,” 

“I like your long hair, Yeager.”

He gives you an unimpressed laugh as you break out into laughter. 

“Low fucking  blow,”  

“Cry,” 

This time he laughs instead, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it easily, holding it to your chest. 

“I do like the hair though. It’s all you ever talked about,” 

He gives you a little smile. 

“You remembered. I thought it’d make me look cooler. Alternative or whatever. Don’t know if it’s working,” 

“Your fans seem to love it,” 

He looks sheepish at the mention of his work. You laugh. 

“It gets a mixed response. A lot of people miss the short hair. I mostly keep it long because it’s easier to style,” 

“Both are nice. I like your short hair more when I think about it,” 

“Yeah?” 

“I guess it’s cause it was short when we’re growing up. And uh,” 

“When we were dating?” 

You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Yeah. When we were dating, it was always short,” 

He closes his eyes, suddenly deep in thought. 

“You wanna know why I kept it short?” 

You think you’d be better off not knowing.

“...Why?” 

“When you’d play with my hair,” Subconsciously, he pushes his hair back a little “I could feel it better when my hair was shorter. Thought if I’d grew it, you wouldn’t touch it cause it’d get greasy quicker.” 

All at once, you pull back. Whatevers on your face isn’t enough to make Eren waver when he looks at you. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes. Ocean blue, and full of something dark. Tempting like an abyss or a siren song. You swallow a lump in your throat. 

“It’s something I’d do,” 

The way Eren stares at you is so intense. You’re dancing around it now. What you both want to talk about it. A conversation that’s gone untouched for more than 4 years. Sober and aching. Different but the same. 

Eren breaks the tension first. That’s twice.

“I’d cut my hair short if you asked me,” 

You’re quiet. 

“I’d do whatever you want,” 

“Eren,” 

“What?”

What do you say? Don’t? Please? What could you say that means more than his name in your mouth? 

“You know what,” You say weakly “You know,”

A conversation you’ve had a hundred times before. It burns like bile rising in your esophagus. Crushed windpipes under the burden of love. Your hands grip the ends of the pillow tighter. He sits up straighter. You don’t want to talk about it. 

“Do I?”

“Eren,” A warning. 

“There’s not any point in talking around it, “ He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie “Around this. Around us.” 

“There is no us,” You correct sharply, shaking your head “Not anymore,” 

His face doesn’t have anything you can read. You know yours must read of resentment. Eren is his usual blank. 

“There could be,” 

You shatter at the sentiment. The hopeful, easy way he says it. Like he doesn’t remember anything, and that you two are strangers. You know better that you aren’t. That no amount of healing can take it all back. Maybe you could forgive Eren, and somewhere far down the line - you could even be friends. 

But us is impossible. You tried us. It blew up in your face. 

“Fuck you for even saying that,” Your voice comes out garbled “Fuck you for even thinking it,” 

“How is it fuck me? For wanting to fix our relationship, seriously?” 

You hate him. With everything you have in you, with a burning fiery sort of anger. A resentment that’s spent  years strangling you. Every time you’ve bitten your tongue, all the time you tried to fix it. 

It’s all so messy and so unspeakbly touchy. 

“The sooner you get it out of your head there’s a relationship to fix, the better off we’ll be,” 

“Bullshit. Bullshit there’s nothing. I make you feel nothing?” 

It’s not what you said. He knows that, but he means what he’s saying. And he knows your answer already because he’s like that. He already knows everything about you. Where to make you hurt, and how to make it sting. Eren is a scar, not a bruise. He stays, for as long as you’re alive. No matter how faint, or how healed - he stays a part of you. 

He knows that as much as you do. That’s why it took you so long to leave. Of course you’d end up talking about it like this, but that’s not what you wanted. Or maybe it is. You don’t really know what you want from Eren. What you were hoping for when you stayed up late to talk to him and reminisce. You think just camaraderie. 

“I hate you so fucking much,” You croak, wiping away angry tears “More than anyone in my life, I hate your fucking guts,” 

“You don’t mean that,”

“I do,” Your reply comes in an angry hush “I can’t forget how we ended Eren. The months after I left were some of the worst of my life. Do you know how long it took me? To get better?”

His jaw clenches. 

“I didn’t think you would leave,”

His confession stuns you into silence. His arrogance never fails to astound, Like this, it feels incredibly frustrating. Your stomach sours. 

“...You thought I would stay? After everything?” 

“You said you would,” He raises his voice this time. He sounds hurt. Angry. Sad. All things you didn’t know he could still feel “You—you fucking promised. It was supposed to be forever and you left first.” 

“You can’t be serious,” 

“You promised,” 

“Yeah,” This time you sit up. Everything hits you at the same time “When I was 17 and in love. Before you treated me like shit,” 

He winces. So he does know. 

“You remember now, don’t you? You changed. You left for college, you stopped picking up my calls. You were such a fucking flirt that half of your campus thought you were single till I moved in. You remember that Eren?” 

His silence makes you madder. 

“You remember. right? How I’d desperately try and fix our relationship while you ran around doing whatever? You always looked so fucking indifferent. All we ever did was fight. Nothing I did worked,” 

“Y/N—” 

“I didn’t know anything other than you. If it was anyone else… But it was you,” 

“I’m—”

“You used to tell me when we were kids that if any boy hurt my feelings, you’d kill him. You remember that?” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Don’t make it sound like I just up and left for nothing. We both know that’s bullshit,”  You choke back a sob as you think about it. The gaping hole in your chest that Eren always left splits open again. 

“I’ve always loved you. Always. From the minute I could walk and talk. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Eren,”  Even now, you don’t want him thinking that “I left because you didn’t love me. I left because I realized that” 

The silence that follows your rant exhausts you so much you slump back into the couch. You learned your lessons the hard way. That love was meaningless to safety. That stability was a luxury few can afford. Nothing is guaranteed.

This second time around, you know that love can’t be one-sided. Maybe that’s what all of this has been trying to teach you. 

You cry silently, taking in deep breaths. You have no idea what he’ll say, and you don’t know if you care. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“....What?” 

“I’m sorry,” His voice breaks a little this time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him cry “I didn’t mean for things to end like that,” 

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” 

You know it’s a mean thing to say. It’s not kind or forgiving. His sincerity doesn’t even feel real to you at the moment he says, but sorry doesn’t make you feel better. Sorry doesn't fix it.

“I know,” 

“Then why say it?” 

“I still love you,” 

Drowning. You’re drowning in murky waters, hardly getting air. 

“You don’t love me,” 

“Don’t say that,” His voice sounds weak and desperate. You haven’t heard it like that in so long. Vulnerable “Even if you hate my fucking guts. I still love you, always did. Always.” 

“Then why did you do that to me?”  

“I was terrified,” 

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Eren. Spoken to him, or even called him on the phone. Years. Checking on him through his social media and streams was all you ever got. Sometimes Armin would fill you in, or Mikasa.

But Eren, in your eyes, had remained how you left him. He got arrogant you think. He got his fix and grew up to be tall and handsome. Had aspirations and grew out of his shyness. 

And instead of growing together, you grew apart. You started to accept the fact that the Eren you loved was no longer someone you could reach. The young, doe-eyed lovesick boyfriend. Eren was just a college boy now. Not your only exception, not the love of your life. 

Accepting that was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in your life. 

So why does he sound like someone you used to love? And why now, of all times? 

“When you talk like that, it makes me think you’re different.” 

“I am,” He stops for a minute, hands folded “I’m trying to be.” 

“...Why were you scared?” 

“It’s uhm, I don’t know how to say it,” 

“Take your time,” 

“Doing long distance made me realize how much I needed you,” His voice is hardly over a whisper. “It was ego. But I hated that. I had it in my head that you were off with other guys, and I—I don’t fucking know—I was stupid. I wanted to feel like you still wanted me,” 

“So what? You made me chase you?” 

“Yeah. Something like that. When you moved in, it just… I don’t know. I saw how everyone looked at you. I didn’t think it would make me so angry to see you like that,” 

“Sounds like…” 

“Self-sabotage,” Eren interjects “That’s what my therapist said, at least.” 

“You’re in therapy?” 

“Only a few months, but yeah. It helps.” 

“I don’t understand you at all,” You shake your head “ Not at all,”

“You bring out the best and worst in me.” He replies with a humorless laugh on his lips “Still. Around anyone else, it doesn’t matter. What they do or don’t do,”

“And me?” 

“You,” He rubs a hand over his face, voice shaking. He tries to be lighthearted but the sentiment is sincere “I make myself sick thinking about you,” 

It feels hot under your clothes. 

“We shouldn’t be… I shouldn't—”

“I know. You drive me so fucking crazy and I get so angry. I know, but how the fuck could it ever be anyone but you?” 

Your breath hitches. 

“What’re you saying?” 

“That I want you. I want you so fucking bad. I don’t want to ever be away from you ever again. I can’t help but want that,” 

You can feel him coming into your space. How he scoots closer to you, just enough that he’s moving across the couch. He’s so much bigger than you remember. Stronger. It's all moving so fast. When he puts his hand on your knee, you tense but don’t move. The dizzying smell of his cologne catches on your tongue and tickles your throat. 

His eyes dart down to your lips. His hands running up your outer thighs. You’re defenseless. Weak, you pull back a little. He doesn’t move. 

“I can’t just forgive you overnight—” 

“I know,” He leans in a little more. Close enough that his breath touches your skin “I’ll keep trying. I want to try again. I’ll earn it this time. I’ll chase you, and you can ignore me all you want,” 

He’s being cheeky as much as he’s being serious. Classically Eren. You’re so screwed. 

You feel your throat close up as he inches forward. 

“You’re so bad for me.” You whisper, the words too heavy. 

“Two sides of the same coin,” He says back, then he smiles “We’re made for each other. You think that too. I know you do,” 

“I wanted stability,” 

“I’ll try to give you it. If that’s what you want.” 

“And if you’re just a rebound?” 

“As long as I’m yours,” 

“You’re such a scumbag.” 

“I know,” 

Everything falls from under you the minute you kiss him. 

A little noise of surprise leaves his lips that instantly morphs into desire. It’s an uncouth display of emotions, so animal that you can hardly call it love. It’s something in between love and hatred, the opposite of indifference. All the intensity of life, of every terrible emotion you’ve ever had. You kiss Eren Yeager first because you miss him, despite yourself. Everything after that is just another blurry detail. 

He moans into your mouth. Where your hand has landed on his chest, he grabs your wrist and then drags you into his lap without ever breaking apart. You end up over him, with his lap under yours.

When he has you where he wants you, he hugs you close to his body. You can feel the hardlines of muscle through his shirt, his arms secure around your back. Your tits are pressed against his chest, bra forgotten. The slightest brushes are what make you feel the most.

Eren’s shaky breaths and the overwhelming way his lips move against yours. Indecision in how to treat you. Soft kisses that are followed by rough ones. The intensity of your own desire consumes your ability to act cordial, as you squeeze against Eren tight. 

You can feel the rapid beat of Eren’s heart in his chest, grinding your hips into his. 

In between kisses, he makes sure to nip at your jaw. You can feel his teeth pierce your pulse point, his tongue lapping over the leftover wound that leaves you shaking. 

He litters bites like that on every inch of your skin, your neck left with an ache. There’s something ironic in Eren licking your wounds over, but the words escape you before you can utter them.

Even in just being claimed, the feeling is intense. It makes you visceral. Not to be worked up from touch or words, but something else entirely. Something cosmic in it’s very existence. 

Eren finally pulls away from you, just barely to glance at your swollen lips. He meets your eyes as his teeth sink into the lower one to make you whine. He talks to you while your eyes are locked. 

“Fuck,” His voice is thick with lust. Heat splits you right in half “Fuck, fuck, baby. Been so long,” 

“Y-Your hands,” 

“Can’t take em off you,” They’re smooth as they feel you up. Shamelessly squeezing the fat of your hips in between in his fingers, grabbing your ass hard. A guilt creeps up for comparing him to your ex-boyfriend. 

But all you can think about is how Eren is the opposite of stability. Images pop up of when you used to have sex, so many years before. He was meeker before, less assured. You thought his confidence would make you sick, but it doesn’t. 

Rather, the look on his face while he gropes you makes you wet. Chewing his lower lip, feeling your body like he’s dying to see it under his clothes. Impatiently and unabashedly wanting you in a way that is distinctly Eren. 

There’s truth in the sentiment that no one could ever fuck you like Eren could. It’s one you’ve kept to yourself for so long that you almost forgot it. Eren knew your body and shaped it to his hands years ago. You like being touched because of how he touched you, a memory you carried like a torch. 

It was Eren who wanted you first, who fucked you first, who made you cum first when you were both so awkward and clumsy. 

“Look at you,” He groans. His hands inch under your shirt, skin on skin. Pinching your nipples gently, till they’re hard against your shirt “Look how sexy you are,” 

He knows what you like, what you like being told. 

“My pretty fucking girl,” 

Fuck. Of course, he remembers that. 

“Oh, you—” 

“So pretty,” He parrots. Even with electricity buzzing in his movements, he’s patient. Undresses you gently. When your skins bare, your shirt tossed to the other side of the room, he kisses the underneath of your tits. Each one, he kneads them. Appreciates them,  worships them. All of that undivided attention that he always used to give you when you were dating. 

When you were in love. 

“You still like when I tease ‘em too,” 

His tongue runs over your hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth, His free hand occupies the other, taking time to give them both equal attention. Your body starts to ignite, little sparks of electricity flitting up your spine. 

Letting your fingers card through his hair, you glance down. He looks up at you with his mouth full, eyes lidded. His lashes are long against his olive skin, sun freckles over the bridge of his nose. Your hands reach to touch the moles along his cheeks, all in places you remember. 

You don’t resist the urge for intimacy. Not things you did with your ex, but with Eren. You press a kiss to his hairline and his hands get a little tighter. Your want expands, fills like a balloon. 

Feeling his cock nudge against your shorts is surprising. A blush crawls over his face, grinding his hips up into you. It’s muscle memory to do it back - rocking yourself until he’s nestled between you. Dry-humping like this makes you feel like a teenager again, doing this in Eren’s dingy basement when you weren’t ready to lose your virginity. 

Except Eren knows what he’s doing. He shifts his weight, sitting up enough to push up against your clit. His mouth deatches, a string of saliva in his place. The cool air against the swell of your tits make, adds to the sensation. 

He grabs your ass again, this time just to push you up. To set a pace as you grind against each other. 

“Wanna know something?” 

You choke back a whimper. 

“Mm,” 

“I used to jack thinking about you,” His voice is slick when he speaks, a low whisper “Remember? You used to be too sensitive so you’d rub against the edge of your bed. Thought about it all the time after you told me,” 

Your jaw drops open. 

“You—” 

“You’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Not too sensitive for this, but—,” He does it with more purpose, a long slow drag so you can feel his shaft against your clothed cunt “you still like it slow,” 

“Eren, holy—” 

“Everything you like,” He hums, this time matching how he moves you with his own body “Still remember every detail,”

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah baby,” He dips his head to kiss against the column of your throat again, this time sucking deep dark hickies. You can feel his lips when you moan “Everything. Kept me company,” 

You’re almost too afraid to ask what he means. 

“Eren,” You half beg, fingers twitching with want “Don’t tease me,” 

“What do you need?” 

“Uhm,” Embarrassed. For some reason, Eren asking you is making you embarrassed. You’ve never been before “This is so humiliating,” 

“You were always shy about asking for it,”

“So why’re you making me, asshole?” 

“I like watching you squirm,” 

“Shut up, you’re awful,” 

“Put something in my mouth, then?” 

Your eyes go wide, and he smiles. His breath brushes against the shell of your ear. 

“You wanna sit on my face, right? Shut me up,” 

It was a stupid arguement you had. At the latter half of your relationship, sometimes the only way you two resolved things was sex. Eren referencing it makes you mad as much as it makes you wet. 

When you were both a little inebriated, he used to beg you for it.The memories of that make you nod. Your voice is coarse with lust.

“Wanna sit on your face,” 

“Take your shorts off,” 

Taking off your clothes is haphazardly done. You and Eren part ways. He takes off his shirt and hoodie to reveal a body cut from pure marble. He was always athletic, but clearly his gym rat posting on his IG story were genuine and not for show. He sends you a little smirk when he catches you staring, flexing his muscles a little. 

“Do I look good?” 

You nod, awestruck as you wriggle out of your shorts leaving you in just your socks. Eren does the rest slowly, stood up and taking off his sweatpants His thighs are muscular, strong with a little dark hair. It’s on his stomach too, just barely there. 

The fabric of his boxers strain against his cock. It’s big, bulges against the black material that you can see the skin. It’s intimidating to look at. 

Your eyes follow him to the couch. You watch him get comfortable, moving pillows around to make sure there’s enough space. He flashes you a smile when he’s laid down, untying his hair as a last touch. 

“Come here, angel,” He signals, waving you over “Come sit,” 

The air brushes past you as you approach him. He reaches a hand out to lace with your hands. 

“Face that way. So you can hold onto my hair, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” 

It takes you a minute. It’s easier to climb over his chest, inching towards his face. When you’re spread right over his neck, he gives you a cheeky grin. His hands reach over your thigh, pulling you apart. His eyes are zeroed in on your clit, finger brushing back the hair on you. The affectionate way he does both makes you want to hide away.

Eren is holding you in place so you can’t move. 

“Look at that,” He whispers, breath fanning your cunt “Look at how wet you got for me,” 

Instead of putting his tongue where you need it, he cranes his neck to one side and presses kisses into your inner thigh. Licking at the skin, he holds your eyes. 

“Tell me something,”He goes an inch highe and leaves a hickey before repeating it a little bit aove “Did he ever get you this wet? You can be honest,” 

Your clit throbs between your legs. Eren grins, as you squirm. You look down at him, shaking your head. 

“Not like you. I mean, he wasn’t bad but he wasn’t—”

“But he wasn’t me, was he?” He goes on, his lips pressing right against your achy clit, arousal on his lips that he licks with ease “Could never be me, could he?” 

“Eren,” You whine. His smile gets bigger, tongue licking one long stripe against your folds. 

“Say it baby. That I’m the best you’ve ever had?” 

Your reply is a meek yeah. It’s hard to do anything with confidence or self-assurance when your entire body is begging to be pleasured. Eren gives you a few more kisses on your clit, like he’s making out with it. It’s sweet and lazy, making your hips buck for more. 

“I’m the same,” He coos, sticking his tongue out as he forces your weight down so you’re not longer hovering but sitting on his face “There’s nothing like you,” 

He doesn’t hesitate to dive in right after that. Burying himself deep, your hands immediately fix at the base of his hair. He’s not shy about it, his tongue laid flat, creating just enough suction around to feel. It’s perfectly pracited, familiar. 

Eren eats you out from memory. That much is obvious to you as soon as you feel him, the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue. It’s a measured build of pleasure, soothing a long-time ache that slowly escalates to something more. 

A mewl escapes your throat. He moans against your pussy, nose bumping against you. Tugging at the roots of his hair, you wiggle your hips to get him to give you more. 

You feel the coil in your tummy when Eren goes a little deeper, sucks a little harder, moves a little faster. Encouraging you to use him to the best of your ability as he pushes your hips, nails dug in the skin to keep you steady Looking down makes you see him completely blissed out, like he’s in a comfortable dream. 

You don’t really remember the last time someone went down on you like this without asking. Like he’s enjoying it all on his own, like he wants you. There’s vigor to how he takes you into his mouth, tastes you greedily, with appreciative grunts and groans. 

The word perfect falls flat to how Eren licks your pussy. Perfect is too prim, too neat. Whatever Eren makes you feel between your legs, is far from perfect. Eren is something more. More intangible, hard to touch. He eats your pussy perfectly, but messily. Desperately, lovingly. Every inch of you is wanted, tongue nestled against your folds and on your hard clit like he wants to stay. He looks at you intoxicated and it shows in how much joy he takes in tasting you. Hitched to your very existence, like a planet revolving around the sun. 

He does it like it’s a privilege, a divine gift. Sucks like it’s sweet, ripe fruit in scorching summers. Water in an oasis, deserving of only the highest praise. Not worth wasting even for pride. Shameless. 

You can feel yourself tipping closer and closer to the familiar edge. Each second pushes you to it, closer and closer and closer before you feel the feeling again. Deep in your body, undoing you completely.

“Eren, oh—” 

You cum hard. It’s the first one, the most intense. Eren is unyielding as you hit your high and start to fall back down, catching on each layer of the ozone. You moan his name over and over, Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s all you can think to say. The only person you’d trust to catch you from this high, you fall foward. Hand gripping on the couch, you try to wiggle away but he won’t let you until he’s had his fix. 

When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath. 

You lean back, catching sight of his face. It’s dripping down his chin. He reaches his hands to wipe it with his fingers, then sticks his hands up to you.

“Open your mouth up,” He says, pushing his fingers against your tongue “Or come down here and clean me up, maybe?” 

You widen your eyes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you wiggle down until you’re face level with him. He gives you a glance, encouraging you. Unsure, you push your tongue out against his neck, tracing down to his adams apple. He groans, voice vibrating. 

“Fuck yeah,” His hands comes around the back fo your neck “Just like that baby. That’s perfect,” 

Your memory reminds you. You repeat your actions, tongue dragging over his nec and chin, presses kisses and bites all along his jaw and neck. Eren moans above you appreciatively. The sound is pleasing. Hearing it over and over eggs you on to “clean” him up well until you reach his lips. 

The way he kisses you is sweet and gentle. He kisses your lips before peppering them on your face. 

“Fuck, look at what you’re doing to me.” 

“Making you sappy?” 

“Already was. I’m so hard for you right now, it’s fucking stupid,”

You let out a whine.

“Mm,” 

“Condoms upstairs,” 

“Don’t need ‘em. ‘s fine. Just give it to me how it is,” 

He shivers against your body. 

“I wanna cum just thinking about it,” 

“Don’t think about it and come fuck me,”

He laughs, handing coming down on your ass. 

“Get up,” 

You stand up and Eren follows suit. He gives you a quick peck before whispering in your ear. 

“Bend over the edge of the couch for me,” 

Shivering, you nod your head and walk beind the couch. You shoot Eren a look over your shoulder, seeing him ease his cock out of his boxers to give it a quick stroke. It’s just high enough that you struggle to get over it all the way. His eyes are piercing, watching you as you bend over like he asks. You push your ass towards him. 

“Like this?”  

“That’s perfect, angel. Stay like that,” 

You can hear him coming towards you. The weight of his body, bare chest against your spine is almost startling. He’s not crushing you, but you’re still completely pinned under underneath him. You wriggle your hips back, struggling to move.

His hand creeps lower and lower, finger slipping through your folds. He feels you up like that for a while, whistling. 

“You’re so wet,” He coos. His voice is smooth in your ear. You moan. He rests his chin just over your shoulder as you turn your head to kiss him. Slowly, he slips his middle finger inside. You’re surprised how little resistance there is really. The pad of his finger reaches far, rubs against your g-spot without second guessing it.

Your squealing makes him do it again. It’s a careful move. Your body responds to him eagerly as he slips another one, steady. Until he’s knuckle deep, stretching out unhurriedly. When it’s no longer a tight fit, he pulls away from you. 

Over you, he repositions. You can hear him spit in his hand behind you, the way his palms move against his cock. It’s all completely quiet besides that, lewd little noises that clue you into what he’s doing. Not seeing him makes the anticipation greater, leaves you vulnerable to whatever he wants to do. 

“Missed this pretty pussy so much,” He hisses, the head of his cock pushing past your folds until he’s snug against your hole. The muscle clenches “So fucking warm,” 

“Eren,” 

He pushes forward, a calculated push of hips. You both moan when he enters you. Just the tip, just the familiar curve of his cock. Your inside ache, deep inside. A place only Eren could reach, you think. He groans nto your ear. Your feet are barely touching the floor in this position, Hardly reaching the ground, toes holding you up. The back of the couch digs into your stomach. It’s puts a pressure on your lower belly, that Eren must feel.

All your muscles are tense. Tight. The tip of his cock rubs against your walls. He’s so hard. Intrusive. You clench around him again. Jaw agape, you moan as he pushes even further. 

“See that?” He whispers, against the shell of your ear. His hands grab yours, putting them behind your back till your defenseless “She remember me,” 

The moan you let out is entirely involuntary once it hits you he means your pussy. Your walls spasm around him. He chuckles at that. 

“That’s right. She loves me even if you don’t, doesn’t she?” Pulling his hips back until your empty, he fills you again. Harder this time. You choke on air “We made love tonight, didn’t we?” 

“Eren, shit” 

“I like when you say my name baby,” He says, another thrust “Like when your pretty pussy welcomes me home. It’s mine, isn’t it? Always has been. Bet he wasn’t making you feel like this, was he?” 

All at once, you feel Eren for what he’s worth. You feel his cock, the curve and the shape the weight as it drags inside of you. You feel the weight of his body, all the stretch in your thighs as he casts over you like a shadow. The gravelly way that he speaks reverberating in your bones. He’s fucking you like he’s all the way in the bottom of your stomach. 

Like a puzzle piece, Eren completes you on a level no one else in the world could. The way he talks to you reflects his, confidence not unearned. He’s cocky and awful, but his dick is doing this to you. Making your mouth fall open until your drooling underneath him. He answers every craving you ever had, that bone-deep sense of dissatisfaction that you’ve spent an entire year burying. 

Eren fucks you like he’s in love with you, and only you. His cock kisses your cervix, and it feels like the same kind done at weddings. A vow to you, a promise. It feels so fucking good when Eren fucks you. Nothing in the world could ever quite comparing to that satisfaction. Deep in your body, primal and hungry. 

“You were made for me,” He pants in your ear “Made just for me. No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. Remind you that. You get it now?” 

You whimper out loud. Yes comes out naturally. Eren kisses your shoulder blade before sinking his teeth into it.

“Knew you would, 

Eren fucks you the only way he’s ever known to. Deep and paced. You can’t say how he does it with anyone else, but with you it’s always been the same. Like he’s carving you out with his cock, the way you’ve always needed. You know you’re starting to be close again with each thrust. It’s a memory that your body welcomes. 

Eren knows what you need to cum, but he waits. Like always, he keeps at it until your walls are tremor. Until you’re just getting there, and you need the extra push to get you to your end. He keeps you at the end as he fucks you, whispers filthy things in your ear until you reach the point of desperation that you’re begging. 

“Please, Eren,” At your limit, pleaing “Please make me cum,” 

“There’s the magic word,” 

He snakes a hand around, reaching your clit and giving it a gentle rub. Everything happens at once. It’s perfect motion. Equilibrium. You can feel your knees start to give in as he gives it to you, the tension gently easing out. A carbonated soda, cracked open slowly to make way for the big finish. The release. Eren speaks to you again.

“Cum for me angel. Give it to me,”

Like a seismic wave, you cum hard on Eren’s cock just like he asked. He’s not far behind you, thrusting through the waves of pleasures. Your brain melts out of your ears completely, babbling to him to give you his cum too.

And he does in record time, shallowly rutting into you until you’re full of him, shooting deep. You feel your insides painted white, content at the feeling. 

When he pulls out of you, you feel it drip onto his hardwood floors. You’re unsure of what comes next, but he pulls you right into your arms. Into his chest, even with wobbly legs. 

“I’m not gonna let you go again,” He assures, more to himself than to you “You’re mine. Forever and always,” 

Against your better judgement, you give in. Just for now. Just for the time being. 

#eren x reader #eren smut #aot x reader #aot smut

[oh-honeyz]

HEARTS PLAYERS

✩ a chishiya x reader where hearts players are all one in the same, until they're not

✩ a/n - chishiya is knees deep in denial in this one

Chishiya didn't like Hearts players. 

For one, he found the notion of a 'hearts player' rather cheap. It doesn't take a lot to take advantage of a person; despite his disinterest in understanding the human heart, it was no great feat to fool one. However, the mind was a much more complex task - and perhaps he was biased, but Diamonds pretty much had that covered. 

Even so, he found some Hearts players slightly intriguing. Was the capability of understanding a person's heart really such a special thing? Chishiya's inability to see the value in a person's emotion, compassion, was what put him at such an advantage to the rest of the people in the Borderlands. Who would choose to trust their heart, something that breaks so easily, rather than their mind? 

And so he was slightly curious when the new executive turned out to be a Hearts player.

Chishiya had been expecting the newcomer for some time; the Beach's recent growth meant more competent players would be joining the ranks, and he was interested to see who Hatter might consider skilled enough to invite into the executive board. Despite what most might believe, it was no high honour to be an executive, however lower your assigned number would be as a result. It just meant more people would be out to kill you. 

Which didn't bother him as nearly as much as the frequent meetings the Hatter insisted on holding, during which he often contemplated climbing through the open window on the fifteenth floor.  

Aside from your status as a Hearts player, Chishiya finds the rest of your introduction a bore. There is already a Hearts player on the executive board, in any case; Mira, who seems to have been here ever since the Beach's beginning, and whom Chishiya mildly dislikes. What does interest him, however, is how you are smiling; there is not one welcome-faced person in the room, and yet your expression is strangely warm. You must be a fool, he muses, but from where he stands most Hearts players often are.

Before he can look away your eyes meet his from across the room, and he is momentarily caught off-guard when your smile becomes directed at him. He gives you a small wave, quick to regain his composure. He sees your fingers twitch at your sides, wondering whether to wave back, and the corner of his lips tug upward into his usual complacent expression. But you are guided into a seat before you can do any more than nod in his direction, and Chishiya leans back in his chair. You are nothing special, he decides, and probably just as predictable as the rest.

But he finds his gaze drifting back to you as Hatter drones on about something he doesn't care about enough to listen to. You look as bored as he is, making a cat's cradle with your fingertips under the table. The action somewhat amuses him, with your eyes lowered in quiet concentration.

Without warning, his vision is abruptly filled with those eyes of yours again as you catch him watching you, meeting his gaze in surprise. Unabashed, he tilts his head at you - after a beat or so you merely smile again, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly in quiet laughter. 

Chishiya sighs, the soft breath soundless to the person seated next to him. Do you think you have found a friendly face, someone to acquaint yourself with? So it's just that. A Hearts player's naivety. He doesn't need to know much more about you than that to guess how competent you'll be at playing games, or how long you'll survive for. He turns away, certain that you've served your purpose in keeping his mind off of this tedious meeting.

But it's strange that you still linger in his thoughts long after the meeting is over.

- Chishiya is slightly annoyed when Kuina asks about the new executive. He doesn't see the need to talk about you, or why Kuina should show such a sudden interest in executive matters - you are just yet another member of the Beach. Why waste time talking about something so unimportant?

"A Hearts player?" Kuina says curiously. She takes a sip of her coffee, and grimaces.

"Yes," Chishiya concedes. "Why do you keep drinking that garbage? You clearly don't like it."

Kuina snorts. "Don't change the subject! And my coffee drinking habits are none of your business."  

The blonde shrugs. "If you like torturing yourself, so be it." 

"You're literally the worst." Kuina eyes him with distaste, taking another strenuous sip of her coffee. "Right, well. What's this Hearts player like? Any good?"

Chishiya sighs. In his mind, an ideal world, the discussion has already moved far beyond this point. "Don't know." He says impassively. He hopes that the additional and unspoken 'don't care' is evident in his tone of voice, since Kuina is clearly set on this topic of conversation. He raises his palms, giving Kuina a dry smile. "Why don't you find out for yourself?"  

She groans, and Chishiya's grin widens as he advises her to watch her precariously tipping coffee cup. He expects she will pretend to throw it at him in response; he finds it unsurprising when she does exactly that.

-

Chishiya considers skipping the next executive meeting, unenthusiastic to spend another hour in a room with a collection of people far more pretentious than even himself. The summer air was rather weighted, and he presumed the warmth in the air would make him drowsy. Yet he could think of no better way to spend his time, either. 

He exhales, stuck between the two options, neither any more enticing than the other. Could he play a game? No, it's still much too early. Perhaps he'd better go to the meeting after all - he had skipped quite a few this past month, and although he cared little for the Hatter it might be beneficial to remain in the man's good graces. 

As if carried on the lazy summer wind, the brief thought of you passes through his mind, but it is gone before he can dwell much on it. 

The conference room is already mostly full when Chishiya arrives. Ann calls it ill-mannered, Chishiya calls it fashionably late. Besides, even Hatter is yet to arrive, so clearly he has come in good time. 

Chishiya notices you glance up as he takes his seat at the back of the room. You give him a small smile, like before. He smirks, giving you a wave in return. Strange that you would think you had found a friend in him, of all people.

As you shift your hands on the table top, he catches a glint of pink foil between your fingertips. He raises his brows, making no attempt to inquire about it, but you seem to notice his gaze on your hands. The smile on your lips turns into a grin, and you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to check if Hatter has arrived yet. 

Confirming the Hatter is still absent, you turn back to Chishiya, who watches you with his brow furrowed. Admittedly, he has no idea what you're doing. Carefully, tilting your hands towards the blonde as if guarding a great secret, you open your closed palms to reveal two foil-wrapped chocolates.   

Want one? you mouth.

Chishiya can't help but snort, earning him an odd look from Ann beside him. He catches the soft laugh that escapes your lips at his response, the chocolates still sitting on your palms. Certainly, you might not be special, but you were proving to be more interesting than he initially thought; out of all the things he had expected out of today, this was not one of them. He decides to play along, his lips curving in amusement.

What flavour? he mouths back.

You blink. The wrapper is pink, you reply. 

The blonde frowns. What does that matter?

Pink means strawberry, you explain. Everyone knows that. 

Chishiya feels an odd sense of utter disbelief. What is he doing? he wonders, and what kind of useless knowledge was that?

In the end he accepts the chocolate, which makes your eyes light up in a way that almost surprises him. It's only a chocolate, yet you seem so delighted; it causes a strange twist in his chest, which he passes off as contempt. Of course someone like you would be so happy about such a simple thing. It's another thing he dislikes about Hearts players - they always retain such unnecessary emotion. 

But that quality seems so much different, so much better, on you. 

Then comes the ordeal of you trying to slide one of the chocolates across the table to Chishiya, which has the both of you concealing laughter behind hands and the clearing of throats. The chocolate ends up on the floor. Ann shoots Chishiya another glare. 

Chishiya couldn't care less about Ann. 

-

Chishiya is aware that you are not fond of playing games. 

He has picked up on the way you chew the inside of your cheek whenever the Hatter talks about collecting more cards, the way your gaze lowers to the table whenever the subject is breached. He finds this unsurprising. Even as a player of hearts, you yourself are soft-hearted, the gentleness in your eyes and the way you continuously smile contradicting your card specialty - but every executive has made their way on to the board for a reason. What had made it so that you were able to stand in the same room as him? He finds he would be interested to see you play a game. Would you be so friendly with your life on the line?

He is mildly disappointed to see the group arrangement for the evening's games. The group he is in will play a Clubs game, speculated to be low-level. He usually finds it insulting when Hatter delegates these kinds of games to him, the man's frequent disregard for Chishiya's intellect irritating - but whatever. He is much more intrigued by the game you have been selected to play. 

 Your name is under the group for the Diamonds game, located in Shinjuku. 

His eyes lazily trace the rest of the list. He wonders if you are as intelligent as your status as a Hearts player would suggest; many would say Diamonds and Hearts are interchangeable, though Chishiya much prefers his title as a Diamonds player, he was just as confident in his ability to clear Hearts games - but there are some who are exceptions to this common theory. He finds Kuina is listed under the Shinjuku Diamonds game as well. Perhaps she might be able to provide some insight on your capabilities when she returns, if he is bothered to ask by then.

But he doesn't have to wait that long to find out.

He sees you first, on the way back from his own game. His game, a Six of Clubs, was mind-numbingly easy, although he'd disliked the way his group had looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to solve the game himself. They weren't his problem. Why should they expect anything from him? He shoves his hands in his pockets, stopping when his fist closes around a small object wrapped in foil. He realises the chocolate you gave him is still in his pocket. 

He wonders why he hasn't thrown it out yet.

"Chishiya?"

Chishiya blinks, realising you must have seen him too. He lifts one of his hands from his pockets to wave, and you give him a smile, although it seems more weary than usual. It's strange, how his throat tightens at the thought, but he lets the lazy smirk surface over his lips. "That's me, yes."

"Glad I wasn't mistaken, then." You joke. "How was your game?"      

The blonde shrugs. The nicety is far too bland for him to give a substantial answer. "Nothing remarkable. Yours?"

You pause, deliberating on a reply. "Well, I suppose it wasn't anything remarkable either." You let out a quiet laugh. "I'm not great at Diamonds games, though, so considering it was an Eight I'm lucky to have made it out at all."

Chishiya hums, offering no response of his own. He thinks quite the opposite, actually. He is sure that the wan expression you wear is not because you lack of skillset - judging by the way you spoke so flippantly of the number, you had cleared the game without much challenge. No, the reason was one Chishiya himself had never cared for. It was clear enough by the conflicted look in your eyes, one he had seen on enough people to recognise instantly, that you weren't as indifferent as he was to the lives of other players. Quite a few deaths in your game, then. He sees the way you rub your thumb over the side of your index finger, a habit of self-reassurance and comfort. A habit he had unlearned a long time ago. 

Here was another thing he disliked about Hearts players; they were always much too concerned about other people's business.

He presses his lips together. You would be so much more interesting, so much more worth his time if you dropped this soft-hearted quality of yours. But as he studies you he can't explain why somewhere in him too difficult, too abstract to pinpoint feels the need to say something to you, to offer you some form of comfort. This was not his problem, as much as the survival of the other players in his game wasn't his problem. 

So he doesn't know why the words escape his lips of their own accord.

"Give me your hand."

You look at him, surprised. Chishiya is also surprised. 

"My hand?" you say doubtfully, and the blonde nods. You peer at him for a moment more before uncertainly holding your palm out to him, although you don't lose the apprehension in your voice. "Okay..."

He places the pink foil-wrapped chocolate into your hand, his fingers brushing your palm as he does so. He ignores the warmth that briefly lights up is fingertips. Probably friction, or something of the sort. The chocolate is, astonishingly, still in good condition, and you close your fingers around it and bring it closer to you. The smile returns to your face as you laugh unreserved. 

"You kept it?" you murmur, glancing up at Chishiya with a grin. 

He gives you another shrug. "I don't like chocolate." This is a lie. He is no big fan, but he doesn't mind the confectionary, either. And he is particularly fond of strawberry, as the pink wrapper indicates.  

You raise your brows as if seeing through his lie, but you say nothing nonetheless. Instead you thank him, the content smile still resting upon your features, and Chishiya finds he is somewhat relieved to see your expression is much more relaxed than it was before.

But when you suddenly wrap your arms around him, whispering another word of thanks into his shoulder, he feels himself tense at your touch; Chishiya has never liked physical contact, especially not from people he barely knew. Yet he simply lets you hug him, although he makes no attempt to hug you back. You pull away after a moment, suddenly further from him than he would've liked.

"Ah, I'm sorry...I should've asked first, I just..." You apologise, clasping your hands together in a flustered way. The action makes it difficult for Chishiya to keep the amused look off his face - for a moment he is tempted to taunt you, wondering if he could draw a new expression out of you. Something devastated, perhaps, if you thought you'd ruined whatever relationship you had with him. An interesting change to your usual bright smile. 

Chishiya exhales, unable to help the slight upward tilt of his lips. "Don't lose sleep over it," he shrugs. He won't torment you, at least for now. You did give him a chocolate, after all. He's simply repaying a favour. "It's not a big deal."

There it is again, that smile of yours that exasperates Chishiya no end, relieved and tentative. Strangely, he has the sudden urge to move closer to you and observe your happiness at close-quarters. Surely there was a limit to how much a person could smile a day? But he merely dips his head in response as you bid him goodnight and disappear, careful to make sure his complacency never wavers.   

It's odd, though. No matter how hard he tries to push it away, a question lingers in his mind for the rest of the night.

Why didn't he pull away from you then?

-

You begin to sit next to Chishiya during executive meetings. 

He can't say he is surprised.

Only, he can't say he despises it either, the way you draw out the chair beside him and ask him if you could sit there with dancing eyes. He should hate that you think the two of you are friends. He does hate the way his throat seems to tighten when you smile, which should be reason enough for him to shut you down.

But for whatever reason, he doesn't.

Maybe it's because he knows that even if he does shut you down, you would pay him no mind. So why bother? It's not as if he doesn't welcome the distraction from the executive matters he is well above hearing about for the fourty-fifth time. 

You bring with you more pink-wrapped chocolates, as if you had never really believed the lie he'd told you. Chishiya finds when he eats one that they're much too sweet, even for him - you are content eating the strawberry chocolate, however, the over-sweetness of the confectionary not seeming to bother you in the slightest. Chishiya can't seem to refuse when you hand him one. 

"These are terrible," he mutters under his breath, chewing on one of your strawberry chocolates as Hatter points at his card collage. 

"Why do you eat them, them?" You grin, folding a pink foil wrapper into a condensed foil heart. The irony of you folding hearts is not lost on him. 

But Chishiya honestly doesn't know the answer to your question.

He doesn't know why he lets you press the little heart into his palm either, your touch warming his hands as if he is holding them to a winter bonfire. The twist in his chest is growing stronger, and he can only ignore it for so long. It's strange that he suddenly doesn't know so many things; Chishiya finds uncertainty alarming - to be uncertain was a concept he was unfamiliar with, his ability to predict the outcome of every situation he encountered one he prided himself on. He is always certain; of himself, of the world, of where people stand in his regard. He is certain he dislikes Heart players. 

Especially you. 

You, who possesses every quality he condemns, who somehow makes him feel the need to understand his own heart no matter how much he tells himself he does not. Something else he is certain of; he does not need the emotions that may surface from doing so.   

But when he looks at the foil heart in his palm, the remnants of shared strawberry chocolate, was he really so certain anymore?

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya oneshot

[oh-honeyz]

all and half pt. i

in which your fate intended is the one person you can achieve true pleasure from 

pairing: modern au! alhaitham x fem! reader, minor kaveh wc: 10k+ (i wrote over 70k+ words for genshin alone last year, that's crazy talk) rating: mature 18+

a/n: so we have two people to thank for this. 1. @mystic-sky rescued my sanity with this fic. i always worry about characterization and plot sense. she's actually the culprit who got me into genshin so really it all started with her. and she made me tear up a bit so here we are. 2. you guessed it, @mediocrityexpert who never failed to mention this man at all opportunities with pictures included until i became the simp you see now. this fic is meant to be her wish banner charm! hope this story brings as much joy as his homecoming

you had a plan. 

a simple and easy one-step outline that was meant to be fool-proof for a lifetime.

avoid your fate intended and you wouldn’t have any problems 

the idea of connecting with another living being on a level of complexity assisted by the archons would be thought to be a spiritual venture. except the very gods who wrote the lining principals found more value in physical compatibility rather than soul binding merit.

it was proclaimed, since what is thought to be the beginning of teyvet, that an individual's soul would be tied to another through the carnal utopia found at the peak of an orgasm. scholars liked to believe that it was a forethought with intention to cultivate the proliferation of humanity; but you like some just inhaled a little too much meditation incense.

if you never reached true nirvana then there was nothing for you to compare it to. thus, you could go about enjoying the frivolousness of life and it's untethered freedom. 

there was something to say about 'true love' when your soulmate could only be found at the peak of an orgasm. they say for those who have had sex in the past that nothing is commensurable beyond that. you don’t even have to love the person. the sex is just that good. 

apparently it’s the worst for virgins—never knowing what came before and rarely having the courage to experience anything less. 

the idea of soulmates was a broken concept of love. ruining stable relationships for the desire of an infallible sexual experience. to think fates were willing to reduce passion down to its most carnal physical form and bind people to it. 

it was the forbidden fruit for some. 

or what was left after it fell from the hands of celestia.

you weren’t in a relationship; had nothing to tie you down. but you refused to have your body hijacked by one person who could only rock your world because of erotic devine intervention. 

it didn’t make you easy by any terms, just determined to always have a taste for what else the world had to offer. 

there was good sex out there.

mind blowing, leg numbing sex.

and not everyone needed the most expensive cake in the shop to achieve satisfaction. 

and that had been the testament of your life thus far, until today.

you were there, edging over the line you’d come to know like a second home, when it all just stopped.

the sheets shifted as the figure hovering above used his hold against your headboard to halt the progression of his hips.

“sorry, i just can’t.”

and the dessert began to crumble.

his face pinched in a way that was far from sexy, “it’s not you.”

of all the times. 

“i just thought it was all myth and legend you know. it wasn’t possible for one person to hold the key to your sexual awakening, right?”

and now he was pulling out. no, no, no. you head hit the stale fluff of your pillow with a thump. 

“or maybe it’s just you-.

you found flimsy satisfaction thump in the sound that came from knocking the second pillow into the blonde head of hair.

“okay, okay. not you. it was great before. but now it’s just—“

archons.

groaning into the mattress, you accepted that the mood was beyond repairable, left to simmer in the rustled sheets and sticky wetness connecting your thighs. honestly what was fate thinking ruining a perfectly good thing. 

“you don’t even love them, kaveh.” you grumbled out crassly. maybe it was a little insensitive. but it was true.  

he’d run into them on a whim, no more bound to you than you were him. it had only taken one night and and a short consideration to make a difference it seemed.  kaveh had once he was a pessimist like you; willing to stick a middle finger to fate and find your own asylum without discovering the road paved out for you. 

the two of you shared stories, marking your own sexual discoveries while exploring ones of your own. you could have married him. 

maybe. 

eventually, possibly, after accepting that you had unearthed all you could from your back- and other various positions.

were you selfish to deem it unfair ?

you’d taken a chance. you filtered through all the variables in an attempt to beat the odds. only to have it slapped in your face. and they even took away your orgasm with a last hoorah. 

“it’s fine.”

it wasn’t. 

well, you would move on. he was the best so far but there were plenty of fish in the sea it seemed as if he caught a bigger one, so to say. it wasn’t the least bit awkward as the two of you gathered your clothing, less of you as in the comfort of your own home you were comfortable in just a shirt and panties. 

an old shirt of his in fact. 

the last of your collection. 

he has the nerve to actually look guilty at the door and you can’t bring yourself to weigh him down any further. 

“hey, we were in a mission to find all the wonders of sex. be happy you get to clock out before your dick fell off.” the pat on the shoulder you give him feels lacking, but you had to stretch to get there so it wasn’t without effort. 

his lips split into a small cautionary smile. 

“hey, maybe yours is—“

no. nope. no evil spirits in your house. 

all hospitality leaves you as you press and prod him through the door. just because he was content didn’t mean you were ready to accept the deal. 

“don’t let your next orgasm send you into a coma. baby steps, kaveh.” 

he laughs like you expect him too, waving you off with a wider grin as he departs, likely to slip into the bed of his dreams. 

and now you were left with an absent orgasm and one less reliable partner. 

great.

                                                 |     ⚘⚘⚘      |

it’s funny how something so soul binding can’t even be properly taught in school. it's wholeness left for young people to discover on their own experience and limited research on the subject available to the general public. teachers spoke lightly on the topic of becoming one with another through body and soul.

the only interesting thing to come from joining the akademiya was dissertations being written as close to erotic novels. 

you convinced yourself to take it easy-ier over the last few weeks since kaveh's unforeseen retreat. you were not that desperate for a good lay and fate would end up handing you want you didn’t desire if you weren’t careful. so instead of your usual nightclubs and after hour ventures, you found yourself wasting hours in lighter pubs. 

maybe not completely losing time. a decent drink and sound music was as good a stress reliever as any. 

relaxing into the bar seat, you manage to keep from losing your balance. the lack of back support seemed like a latent encouragement of chances of falling to the floor, but you were only two glasses in at the moment. as your fingers traced the edge of the glass in languid circles, you wonder if you should just call it a night. 

it had been quite awhile since you’d let yourself wander into bars. back in your early undergrad days, it had been in the accompaniment of friends to alleviate any stress built up over the semester. it was safe to say you’d matured a little since then; or at least discover an alternative that was just as satisfying. 

but then kaveh had to go and ruin that. 

it was as equally frustrating to admit you were both dissatisfied with the abrupt departure as you were pleased it ended before it festered into something too entangled for you both to escape. though 'finding your soulmate ‘ route was still well outside your expectations.

nearly a year ago, your introduction to kaveh had been fortuitous. he was a graduate, senior to your status, but a frequent of the akademiya due to renovation projects. he had been a pretty face, an easy distraction when his latest construction was near the vahumana school grounds. 

all it took was a pair of wandering eyes and a few smiles to strike up a conversation. after a cursory drink here and there and a night out of fun, the kindling chemistry began. 

it had never been an intention for either party to make it more than that. one shot too many had kaveh confessing about his mountains of debt that put him in direct servitude to the akademiya. 

and you had no desire to date either, at least not while the sages were still prickling your nerves about research. but you also were willing to admit that you were getting a little too old to be bar hopping for a night out.

kaveh fit comfortably in the midst of both criteria. 

he was a reliable lay and it helped that lately it took effort to run into one another. he was always focused on a new project and you spent more time in the library than your own apartment. which was ironic, because the majority of your ‘meetings’ occurred at your place rather than his. 

something about a belligerent roommate. 

now he was out gallivanting in the desert in the pursuit of creative inspiration; an interesting metaphor when he was towing his newest obsession along for the ride.

but apparently that was a thing of the past as you found yourself in an establishment that was better referred to as a tavern than a bar, or at least one less frequented by akademiya students. the campus bars were always full and bursting with a cocktail of students and occasional faculty members. it was a dangerous mix of egos and alcohol. 

it was why you found it worth it to venture to port ortmos on occasion to the habour tavern. the lack of boisterous music was nice, but the atmosphere was empty of intrigue. not to mention the place hardly offered a promising selection. not a favorable gift of wine, and top shelf liquor was hardly in their vocabulary, let alone supply list. you decided eventually not to waste time trying to explain the ingredient of a zaytum sunrise. 

a sigh tickled you lips and your shoulders sagged an inch lower. really there were more pressing issues than laminating over bed partners. you were rapidly approaching the end of your scholarship, making you one step closer to your dissertation. which was still a prospective theory with no hardened evidence worth presenting. 

it took something akin to guts to challenge the age old belief of soulmates. in sumeru, it was the equivalent of a religion and you stood as the outsider throwing rocks at the stained glass chapel.

what you believed wasn't meant to be interpurted as hate, but clashing ideology tended to paint one side as the villain in order to raise the value of the rest. 

you didn’t want to topple the pedagogy, but be given the opportunity to confront it fairly. but with a theory so widely supported in droves, it was no surprise that no one took it seriously. the akademiya hadn’t even blinked when you had proposed it, not threatened in the slightest. 

nor had you wanted them to be. all you wanted was to be heard and given the chance to provide a new perspective. 

your mentor had been rather agreable about the matter, offering encouragement and diffusing tension in equal bouts. but they also had their concerns, more so for your future than the present. 

though not insistent on deterring you, they often hinted at your growing fascination in conservation and rejuvenation of old practices to save the future. the histories of the past often held secrets for the future, they liked to say. vahumana was as proud as any house, determined to make their mark on the world and the research that gave it life.

but you liked to argue that the past also had plenty of mistakes as well, a shaky ground to dispute your soulmate theory on but one worth grasping all the same. 

“maybe i should just summerise my conservation efforts,” you grumbled audibly, reluctantly tipping the ice-melted drink down the back of your throat. it was the easy way out.  the more practical route with postgraduate application as well. 

discussing soulmates with anyone felt too much like a religious sermon. the emotional process was part of the passion needed to drive the evidence behind the dissertation. half of the presentation was to comfort the audience of your opinion and you had plenty to say on the matter. 

cutting your gaze back over your shoulder, you gradually took in the atmosphere of the tavern. it was small, likely a family owned heirloom passed down generations, a homey style that you’d seen quite a few bars back in the city try to replicate. frankly, it was dusty, cracked and you missed the appeal but it seemed popular with the quieter population. perhaps not as full tonight, but most tables were occupied by one or two patrons. sensibility correcting your wandering gaze, you reluctantly trained your eyes back forward. no need to garner anyones attention, there was hardly anyone here for that kind of late night ventures. mature men were a stark difference from akademiya students. you shudder off the imaginary thought of a stranger’s touch. 

eventually you set your glass down for the last time, signalling the bartender without a word as he rounded back to check on you. in their approach you considered balancing one more round on your psyche. it’d been only been your second glass, watered down at that. you’d linger longer if need be to sober up. but archons, did you just want a glass of wine.

you parted your lips to initiate the order, the bartender not far away to request, but then his gaze was snapping beyond you. a slow tilt of familiarity formed his lips, followed by a polite wave. mannerisms encouraged you not to turn your head, but curiosity was a painful pinch. it was almost too difficult to resist. you were grateful when the bartender moved for you, not even perturbed when he bypassed you for a few seats down. 

the quiet bustle was still too heavy for the distant conversation to carry. idly you twist at the mini straw floating along the melting ice as you way.  

it took a few more moments for the bartender to return to you, an apology muted at his lips but you shrugged it off, sliding the glass closer. “just one more. no ice.” he gave his affirmation, the soft smile still lingering. you weren’t piqued by his brightened service. he’d been nothing but amicable to you, but it was something to take notice of. 

the moment his back turned, the burning itch came back. just a peek. everyone got first looks, it wouldn't put you on the spot. you was sure it was nothing you hadn’t seen before but now you had to be certain of it, the tethers of inquisitiveness pulling at your gaze. 

okay, well you definitely hadn’t seen that. 

he was certainly something to observe. the first thing that caught your attention was his musculature, mainly the girth of his arms that were propped against the bar as unaware of the potential interest they could draw.  not to say it was the first time you had been impressed, but he was filled out in a way that tore a page out of a different volume. you had grown use to the leaner builds at the akademiya. 

but it wasn’t just his build, his presence alone took up so much space it was already hard enough to miss him without that silver threaded hair. he held an air of authority that felt strangely familiar yet foreign in the port. 

the click of glass against the counter brought heat to your cheeks as you were caught, your head whipping back to attention. “thank you,” but he was already gone, moving on to the next attendant. 

you filtered through a quiet breath, pretending to be engaged by your phone with spotty service. at this point you were nearing an issue you weren’t ready to admit to at such an early stage. while you were comfortable in saying you could go quite a while without kaveh, the eccentric architecture; kavrh jr’s absence was starting to have some drawbacks. 

to think the bastard was possibly warming someone else’s bed while you refrained from tempting your own. what you refused to believe was that it was the best time of his life. you brought that man closet to the archons than anyone could. 

yet here you were siting alone in a tavern nearly undressing a stranger after hardly a few weeks of no intimacy. what were you thinking even considering the idea? the bartender floated neatly around him but aside from that he hardly gave the impression of being approachable. 

archons ... and weren’t you just imagining how uncomfortable it would be to be approached by someone from this bar. but technically weren’t you one encroaching now? had this been just another city establishment, for one you’d have some proper wine. but at the very least you’d usually just talk. if the receiving end didn’t like it, then oh well, you weren’t circling them like they were the sun.

so he wouldn’t be any different.

besides, if you didn't say anything now you’d be running scenarios of this moment until you really did go insane. you dreaded the thought already. 

you were slightly attracted to him- okay, pretty attracted. and you were still a young adult, it was the season of flings and one offs. surviving your final year at the akademiya thrived a little excitement. cutting your eyes sideways, you recalculated your chances. maybe he-

��if you have something to say, say it. your flittering is just as distracting.”

if warmth described you before, flames were dancing beneath your skin now. the man wasn’t discreet in the slightest, not caring who listen to the exchange. or maybe he was speaking to someone else- oh no, he was looking at you and he was not very intrigued. for a pause you were caught by a churring sea of turquoise. 

you stumbled over deliberation shortly before a new emotion countered the transition. weren’t you just accepting cutting losses? if he was lacking interest then what was the point. 

against your internal will, your lips pulled into a scowl at the potent irritated disinterest in his voice.  “yes, because i’m sure it’s me that’s distracting” 

well, that was not exactly how you intended to start this whole scenerio. playing hard to get was already a slippery slope and your face of indifference was faltering. you could see it mirroring back from the look of reflection on his face. or maybe that was just him contemplating the consequences of just leaving. or maybe he was truly in with the owner enough to kick you out. 

for another moment it looked like he might just, and then something shifted. he reached for his glass again, the amber colour much like your own but in a higher volume. the amount of his intake challenged yours as well, or so you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so entranced by the movement of his adam’s apple. 

“-students.”

what?

you caught the tail end of fostering chagrin but you knew you were rapidly eating up his reserves for patience. really, he could have just been here to relax, not get harassed by some akademiya scholar. 

the man stared at you for a second longer, then scoffed. “apparently the standards have dropped. what school are you from?”

“i…” you trail off, feeling a little nonplussed by the implied merit. “vahumana.”

he hums, a sound audibly dry with scrutiny. “the study of history and the past of our predecessors. fitting to dig into the business of others as you cant seem to mind your own.”

you narrowed your eyes at him,” and you must have been haravatat.”

he huffed in amusement and reached for his glass, the rim tips against the tilt of his lips. he didn't diffuse your assumption. “why's that?”

“because only you would be so far up our asses to know what business we were sticking into.”

there was a smile, but the tone was serious. “cute. what year?”

“final.”

“good. any longer and you might have become unbearable.”

you shot him a look of rebuke,”those same standards would imply that you got kicked out.”

“aw, its adorable that you think we’re held at the same degree,” he said. “i’m afraid i simply out grew their expectations.”

you scoffed. he was so stupidly cocky. “uh huh.” you prepared to turn away when he chirped back, amusement bleeding into the heart of his motive.

“done biting already? didn’t think you would bend to authority so quickly. but i suppose akademiya students know when to fall in line.”

you shot him a chiding look. he came across as tall but the way his torso seemed to stretch even seated. it would have been impressive enough without the additional bulk that added an unfair amount of definition to his clothing—attire that had speckles of familiarity in both its design and colour scheme. 

“you work for the akedmiya.”

he watches you silently. allowing you to work through the calculations. he obviously wasn't a teacher, you would have at the very least heard of him by now especially since he was confirmed haravatat. he had maybe a year or two on you,  just enough to be an established graduate.

looking back now, he did look a bit distinguished. the fine details of his clothing hinted equally at quality and prestige. though the material was tighter to form than usual robes, but you would admit it had it's own unique sense of flair. still it didn't give the full answer you were looking for.

“that’s all you can differ? disappointing.”

“if i’m so unsatisfying, why bother holding a conversation?”

he gives you a look over and you realise you weren't the only one noticing a few things. he was just more subtle.

“with your mouth closed, you’re mildly appealing.”

you could barely resist the roll of your eyes. “funny, most men would say they might prefer it wide open.”

“you must have a lot of soulmates with that kind of confidence.”

this time the effort was for naught as you turn away. 

“oh, sore topic?”

his voice carried despite the action, a touch more smug. 

“well i’m assuming your odds of not finding your true partner are promising enough.”

surprised into reacting, you twist your body in his direction. it was an odd choice of words given the subject. it almost felt as though he were implying something.

“i have your interest then?” 

the intrigued man angled his body towards you leaving you no room to misinterpret his attention. “we both agree that there is physical attraction. and though i doubt i need more points, the likelihood of us discovering the epitome of pleasure is a low possibility.” the offer  is so blunt as he roves you over with calculating appreciation, but those eyes… that blue-green fire-

don’t find that arousing. he’s being a dick.

feeling a bit unsettled by your desire, you averted your eyes briefly before raising them back to his handsome face. you had never once considered yourself weak, the spirit alone strong enough to challenge the akademiya worth its weight in mora. 

pure stubbornness was your greatest defence against a lot of things. 

but temptation was a trial fought time and time again. 

he read your resolve like an open book and finished his drink in an impressive swallow before rising to his feet. he waved down the bartender with a quick hand and then put down a few notes of mora with the other. he walked with intent, hardly harbouring an inch of reprieve in any direction. whatever he was, this was his hunting grounds and he set his sights on you. 

your mouth was dry, glass still untouched as you visibly shuddered under his shadow, “i’m not some easy student-”

archon be willed, you denied yourself the privilege of running your sight down the length of his arm as it benched securely between you body and the bar. there was a smart smirk on his face that you hadn’t witnessed yet, a challenge that you’d be dragged through whether you wanted to or not. “no, you’re just spun too tight and could benefit from new lesson.” 

you parted your lips to rebuttal but he silenced you with a hum. “i’m not going to play the role of some authoritative figure you desperately need. you can either come along or play games with someone else.”

a streak of heat crackled along your nerves at the rawness of his words. to be honest, he looked absolutely done with your presence but there was a primal edge of something you couldn’t place rooting him there. whatever drug him down to this bar was still devouring away at him, tightening his defences to the peak of stress. 

yeah, you bet he could use a stress reliever alight. 

your eyes slipped close as a low groan escaped you.

                                                 |     ⚘⚘⚘      |

it had taken you an embarrassingly small amount of seconds to fork over common sense as you hastily scrambled to procure payment, only to have your attempts overrun by another careless slip of a few bills to cover much more than you had spent that night. it was no wonder he was so popular here.

he didn’t just walk like he owned the place, it certainly seemed like it as he guided you out of the door with a firm hand at the small of your back. not one pair of eyes crossed your paths and from the corner of your own you witnessed the bartender already moving to clear your spot. 

a minute later, you were outside in the slight chill of the nighttime air. but where you were expecting the man to hail a car, instead urged you along the cobble-stone path.

“you live in port ortmos?”

“is that a problem?”

“i just …”

he lifted his chin slightly, “expected me to live in sumeru city? no, i stay there enough for work.”

you hum thoughtfully at the new information,“so that’s why the bartender was so familiar.”

“or maybe he just likes me.”

“or maybe he just likes your money.”

“why are you so sure that i have money?”

it takes effort not to mention the cash he’d tossed so carelessly onto the table top. there could have been one too many stuck to gether, but he had not even paused to check. instead you gesture marginally to the fine clothing stretching over the girth of his arm.

“well at least i know you're only after my body.”

“it's certainly not your personality,” you respond flatly. 

“you would prefer the bigger of the two.”

you click your tongue and look away, determined not to snort at the smooth jest.

the short trip ends when he taps his key fob against the entrance of a modestly built apartment complex overlooking the port. 

“anyone you need to inform of your nightly ventures?" he breaks the silence as he hits the bottom for the elevator to jerk into motion.

it occurs to you with no great pleasure that he was indeed right. you had followed the man with only the speculation that he was part of the akademiya in some capacity. at least you had confidence that he hadn't drug you to some seedy part of town and as long as the bartender didn't sell you out, there would be an evidence trail. 

still you shot off a quick text to a friend, letting them know of your location in the port.

“good girl.”

you scowled to which he returned the gesture with a broad smile.

fortunately, the elevator door opened before anything more could spark. he stepped out first, leading you four doors down before unlocking it and flickering on the first light available. he waved you in with a nod of the head. 

if he was a secret murderer, he was one with good tastes. from the entrance, the home opened up into a modern looking living room with panel windows hanging high above the quiet streets. to the right, an impressive kitchen held more appliances than you even knew what to do with. you assumed the final hallways led down towards the bedroom and other accessory rooms. overall, it was quality living. something to dream of after finally graduating from the akademiya. yet it still did not offer anything more of his position. 

overly curious, you ask, “what is it you do again?”

he smiles, all mischief, “i’m just a feeble scholar.”

the man expects your scoff, lip curling higher as he vaguely gestures to the darkened kitchen,“i’d offer you a drink, but then i’d have to cut the night short. i don't sleep with drunks.”

you shrugged off your jacket, folding it over before lying it on the couch. “i’m not a lightweight.”

he tucked his free hand into his pocket, “but you’re in my home. house rules for guests i’m afraid.”

his shoes echo off the floors as he walked towards you, teasing closeness until you stepped back in turn. a second later, you were backed against the wall connecting the kitchen to the hall.

you swallowed hard to control the nerves flaring under your skin. it was infectious with the way his eyes travelled slowly from your eyes to your lips. he was shameless, continuing down past your collor bone to the subtle swell of your breast until the weight of his gaze dampened your breaths. 

eagerly, you arched your spine,” how else do you treat your guests?”

his eyes retuned to your face,” i suppose you’ve earned that much.” he shuffled closer and trailed his thumb along your jawline, then leaned in and kissed you. his other hand came up to cradle the other side of your face as his lips tugged gently at yours before coaxing them apart. 

then his tongue slips into your mouth and you whimper. its an embarrassing sound that pulls a reaction from him as he breaks the kiss. 

he’d never been close enough before to take in the spicy smell of his person, an additional spritz of expense. something about it burned your nose from this proximity, like he was activating too many of your other senses to not notice. his hands were hot and heavy as they groped at your body, following the curve of your hips and testing the weight of your breast. 

his tongue lapped at your neck, each action only a span of minutes already accumulating a pool at your core. 

you just wanted to kiss him again but he seemed to conveniently remain out of reach. to test it, you craned your neck again only to have him counter by nipping at your ear. 

“did you come to that place just to get laid, sweetness?”

you were beginning to edge away from the dry tone of his voice but he had yet to be proven innocent from the other assumptions. blood finally returned to your hands, rendering you with the ability to move as you grappled at his own body, lavishing in the not so hidden display of muscle. “did it look like it?,” you eventually responded back. 

that earned you another nip, obviously not the answer he was looking for. it wasn’t a gentle one either. the sharp bite of it was still echoing through your nerves and ripping a yelp of arousal from your lips. 

“i just wanted a drink.”

he bit you again. 

you quickly wailed out the truth of the matter, a short sentence about your growing frustration before waiting for another reprimand but the firm pressure of lips responded instead and you sagged into the warmth of it. you dared to ask the same of him but you doubt you had enough strength behind your teeth to get him to comply. 

his pace was ruthlessly, hands sliding and discarding clothing, certainly not interested in prolonging the moment. 

“you’re going to miss that attitude when i’m done with you.” 

the weight of his words should not have produced the reaction that it did. but god did it make you so wet. this man would probably fuck anything. and everything would let him fuck them. 

you’re grappling on to his bicep, meaty muscle probably tenderised from long hours at a pricey gym. he loops one of your legs around his waist, leaving the other standing to allow more room for himself. his fingers are dry when they first touch you, though not for long as they absorb the slickness your body throws at him wantonly. a thumb tweaks your numb and your breath hitches into a pant as he curls two thick fingers into you without warning. 

his face remains refined but his touch is explorative, teasing the spongy walls as he stretches them to their limitations. “unexpected debut but not a bad way to end the night.”

you wished his words would have less of an effect on you, the dichotomy of them and his touch making you out to be a blushing virgin. 

and he keeps talking. 

“akademiya girl, huh? bet you think you’re so smart. “

you keen lowly as he introduces a third fingering, forgoing rudimentary scissoring to just plunge them into your depths. you arch against his hold bucking with no ground to stand on. his hitches your leg higher as a reminder, threatening your barely there balance. 

“look at you, all spread out for me. i said what five words to you? did they not teach you manners? a lot has changed.” he presses with the intent of stretching limitations, and you’re grateful for the debauched ministrations. science and biology taught you more than enough about anatomical proportionality. 

“no resistance. you’d let me fuck you for less wouldn’t you? ” but with the way words just kept off his tongue without preamble, you were nearing certainty that he’d ride the glide of your channel without much resistance. 

he works a hand up the loose material of your shirt, sending your bra into disarray as he tweaks a nipple sharply. the pain is acute, shuddering through your body like a ripple. your groan rolls into a soft hiss as he does it again, enunciating  the action with words. 

“i asked you a question.”

the pressure returns and your body squirms. it's enough to plunk the strings of obediency as your mouth is quick to answer.

“yes!”

his fingers rip from you, cutting the strings of your impending release and you hear the tell tale signs of a belt jingle. the material of his pants shifts, but unlike you they never leave his hips. 

“fuck.” he frees himself, af the musk of him permeates the air. it’s almost intoxicating, urging you too look but you fight the urge. “i knew it. you came to that tavern looking for someone to bit that edge off.”

 you don’t have to, because he’s pressing into you thick and hard and your walls flutter around him. with efficiency, he hitched your last standing leg up as well, leaving you suspended at his mercy. “good thing i came in, i bet you were getting unbearable to your little friends.”

the wall reverberates against the knocking of your body, the offbeat staccato telling any nosey neighbours all they need to know. that's if they weren’t already use to the frequency of overnight guests.

“just needed a few pumps to set you right. “

you tilt your head back and his immediate reaction is to latch back onto your neck, no doubt intending to bruise you both physically and mentally. he’s not immune to his own sounds, grunting through explications with each thrust. archons, it’s so hot, feeling the weight of him dragging over the wet hole, soon to be coined as a delicious ache before the night’s end. 

it’s uncertain if he drew blood, the sticky wetness of your throat a toss up between the possibility and perspiration. 

his name. you need to know his name. desperate to whine it, cry for it, tattoo it onto your tongue. you ask as much of it without realising. 

-haitham. 

you’re supposed to learn of it so soon but don’t disappoint the expectation following the admission. 

“my name is alhaitham.” his name rolls off fluidly and you bite down to savour it before it’s gone.

your head rolls back against the wall, mouth parted for air as your eyes squeeze shut. your breast rise and fall with each hurried breath as alhaitham pins his focus on the thrum and the heat of your clit. 

he’s back at your throat, nosing against the constrictions as your voice strains high and desperate.it was dominating, overwhelming, and even though you could accept that you enjoyed it, you still couldn’t understand why. domineering had it’s attractive qualities, sure, but it was arguably a delicate matter. one that took a fine tuned perspective to account for any aversions and hone in on the pointes of gratification.    

and he knew.

“you looked so pretty at the bar. i’m almost grateful you were so nosy. now you look even more gorgeous. pinned against my wall like a painting.”

a shower of sparks rain down over you and cracks open the door to the flash of lights stippling the dark behind your eyes. you rock yourself forward until it becomes clear that you’re fucking yourself on his fingers until theirs both slick and resplendent with your essence. 

it should be the end, the cut off of your journey but the trip feels like it's leagues long until the horizon breaks and you’re no longer anchored to the terrestrial spear but floating within the realm of celestia. 

he removes his fingers slowly, excruciatingly so, and smears your release over your clit and skin. your nerves feel as delicate as your bones feel weightless. 

you're fortunate that alhaitham is close enough to catch you as you all but collapse against the wall, feeling like someone—no your fate intended—removed all the bones in your body. cheek pressed against his chest, you inhale the scent of his skin while wondering if this was the exact feeling kaveh had. it was indescribable. like you were racing toward the end of days, on the verge of expiring by your own inability to call back the breath that alhaitham had stolen from your lungs. it's a dichotomy of wonder and fear as you come to terms with a terrifying realisation. 

you want more. 

alhaitham lets out a throaty hoarse sound when you bury your hands in his hair and tug at the thick base. he presses his lips harder against yours, determinedly set on devouring you with teeth and tongue if he can get away with it. in turn, you wrap your legs back around the already familiar notch at his hips and squeeze, drawing your front flush against his. 

his erection remains hard and insistent. it’s enough to make you sigh happily against his mouth, arousal blooming above her navel at the promising orgasm it will provide. 

“i want you,” you gasp between kisses, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other continues to pull at his hair. 

alhaitham grunts again at the action and sneaks a hand down between you two to cup your wet mound. two fingers press up, spreading your spend and is immediately reward with another sweet hasp from your lips as he teases the sensitive nub. 

archons, just the faintest touch of his fingers against you is enough to drag back the reminder of the shattering kaleidoscope until the only thing you can think of is him—alhaitham— with either his soul-binding fingers or his cock buried inside. you don't care if it's a repeat performance or something new, as long as you come. 

the truth is so palpable between you but alhaitham has sense enough not to mention it. instead he dips as his arm slips under your knee to pull you into his arms. he walks you towards the darkened hallway where the door at the end opens into his bedroom.

alhaitham pulls at your clothes and you let him, sliding them down until you’re left with nothing and reaching for his. he follows you onto the bed, bracing himself over you. he lowered his head to kiss you, holding you still as he ravishes your mouth until you’re forced to break apart, breath haggard from the effort. 

you blink blearily up at the broad shoulder hovering just by your nose as you resist the itch to squirm. the grip holding you down had lessened dramatically in the last few minutes, the weight of trust holding you still. a soft sigh tickles your lip as his forehead rolls against yours, light and nuzzling.

“you’ve finally lost some of that attitude. that is good. you’re doing so good,” his voice is less dry, holding warmth and reverence for compliance. your head tilts up to seek his lips again, craving the gentle touch and the taste of exhalation.the sharp edges of thoughts fade away, leaving only room to consume and receive. a reward comes in the tweak of thick fingers returning to your apex, twisted deep within you and curling for purchase. in return, you sigh into his mouth, pleased, as you rock into the affection.

“think you can return the favour? let me see what all the fuss is about?” his smile savours the flavour of saccharine, both appealing and intoxicating and you find yourself nodding in acceptance without cause. alhaitham knows he has you anyway- always had- you’d crawl for his mercy if just to have a a taste of the nirvana only he could give you.

he feels the motion of your nod, pressed so close,” i’d like to know what it’s like. feeling your open mouth, the sounds of your gasp as you choke on my cock. ”

his hand remains low, twisting within you as your own rides the length of his body. it’s a stretch, but you manage to brush against the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein protruding against the surface. your heart thrums, seeking his praise even as his hand leaving you and his thighs shift upward until he hovers at your face.

the heat of him bobs from the movement, tapping your lip and smearing its tackiness. his hand cards through your hair, rumbling veneration as you lick it away then open your mouth to stretch around him.

alhaitham’s hand, girthy and wide, teases the nap of your neck, forming a brace without asking. the rhythm of your tongue is met with a heavy groan of approval, the volume increasing as you swallow around him. the coordination of suction is breathing is an erratic dichotomy but you managed- for him. your mouth continues to caress him as he grows, hips beginning to undulate in aid.

“you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you, sweetness? for me?” he’s curled over you, blowing through harsh pants as he coaxes another inch down your throat. it still lacked the depth that he would have wanted, but you would still make it good for him.

tears bubble behind your eyes, though not from pain, from sacrifice as you nod once more. it’s still an impossibility to take him to the hilt, but with passion you come close. swallowing the bitter taste of him until the taste of it is tattooed on your tongue. it’s a musky bitterness, thick with salt.

his voice is but a whisper, rolling against your ears. “yes, sweetheart. make me proud.”

you splayed your hands against his thoughts, fingernails digging a little into the skin there but alhaitham could care less. in fact, you dared to say he enjoyed the pinch of pain. it most noticeably shattered his ability to prologe his release as his eyes closed and he allowed the orgasm to surge through him. 

this close, it was impossible not the notice the intense ripple of sensations as his nerve endings sparked with a powerful wave that had his knees trembling above you. just when you feared he might topple, he leaned back, rolling to the side and combing a haggard hand through his hair. 

then your eyes connected and the truth you’d damned up inside, burst forward, barrelling through your defences and overwhelming you. 

this man. alhaitham was your soulmate. this stranger whom you’d let take you home, ravish you beyond your wildest dreams and given you an core shattering orgasm that you were still reeling from. alhaitham who had come to lean in closer than you realised, must have come to the same conclusion as his mouth sealed over yours. 

the featherlight caress of your lips to his made your body yearn for something more than one-sided release, the promise of coming together as one—

a sudden feeling of panic gripped your gut as the final dreads of your euphoria dripped away. scrabbling for your bearings, you nudged at him until he had no choice but to pull away, leaving you more exposed than ever. 

alhaitham’s face was flush with exertion, eyes to feverish but his face was unguarded with uncertainty. 

“are you alright?”

no, you definitely were not and you wouldn't be until you got home. even then you likely wouldn't be okay. you never would be the same after tonight.

“i should go—i shouldn’t have—i just need to leave.”

your heart seized with the sudden ache as realisation weighed down on you. this was not how this was supposed to go. not at all. you pushed yourself off his bed and onto your feet, hastily scrabbling for your clothing. 

alhaitham picked his movements carefully as he straightened up on the bed,” it’s fine if you need space. i know this is a lot but it’s late. you should stay the night.” he gestures out out the door,” my roommate is gone for the weekend, you should take his room.”

but you were hardly listening as you pulled your top over head and headed for the door while working your arms through the sleeves. despite his offer, you continued past the adjacent door until you neared the entrance. 

alhaitham’s steps were heavy as you followed behind. his hand came to your back to steady you as you hoped from one shoe to the other until they fit snug. 

“you are overwhelmed and it's too late. you're not thinking clearly. i don't want you out in the city like this.”

you turned on him before he could finish, “you don't know me. just because were—you—,” you guested widely between the both of you. “this doesn't change anything. “

reading the room, the man carefully held up his hands in surrender. it should have been a commercial sight for a man of his stature given his still nude state. 

“okay, okay. just wait, please.”

it’s the agreeableness that gives you pause. its give him just enough time to round the counter of the kitchen and rummage through one of the doors.  he spares the time to bring a pen to it. when he returns, its with a small card.

“i’m not asking for anything. but if you want to reach me, here. i wont seek you out. but you know where to find me.”

whether he was referring to the tavern or his home was vague. but the look in his gaze wasn’t. no matter how much he tried to hide it, it was there … the expectation. 

you turned away and opened the door, clutched the cardstock in your hand as you hurried to the elevate and punched the downward key until it blinked and the doors opened. you threw yourself inside, not looking back not when the doors closed but until you were free of the building and ducking into the hailed car. 

fucking kaveh, it should have never ended this way.

it had been quite a long time since you’d felt anything remotely shameful after a night in bed with someone new. with kaveh it had never been an issue as he’d wormed his way into a positon of comfort before he’d ever reached your bed. 

the both of you had decided that you enjoyed the fragile lining between friendship and something more, confident that neither would seek out the unknown. he was focused on his growing list of projects to offset his student debt and you were still trying to make the most of your own expenses into your education. 

it had been a simple arrangement that you had been forlorn to see it unravel. but you couldn't put stocks into blaming kaveh forever. he certainly had not led you to the bar housing your soul mate and had no ploy in getting you into their bed. 

no the blame had been solely yours. 

you had barely been able to look at your reflection in the mirror, finding it all the more damning to written the swollen redness of your lips and early signs of hickeys dotting your throat. there had been no point in examining the rest of your body as you slipped into the shower to wash away what you could. however the ache of his presence remained seeped into your bones even as you fell into your blankets.

there had been one too many unsuccessful attempts to silence your mind, your more reasonable half having a field day over-analyzing your choices. 

eventually you'd given up on sleep altogether in favour of squinting against the glare of your phone. if you were going to be riddled by guilt, the best thing to do was to spin it into a web of evidence. for months, you had been trapped trying to craft a damning theory to challenge the damn-near will of the gods. 

and in return they made you into your own attestation. 

in your initial presentation, the sages had challenged your theory as one-sided, some even edging to accuse you of envy. at their age, it was difficult for you to speculate if one or any of them had found their soulmate. there was no rhyme or rhythm to discovering your fated partner. 

some discovered them early, others had to wait until their last breath. 

but in the city of sumeru, where the god’s will was paramount to divine expectation.

if anything the only thing worth of your envy was the free state of mondstat where the country had thrived under their archon’s guidance to seek out their own fate.

it was a plausible dream but sumeru was your home.

closing your eyes, you leaned back against the flatness of your pillow. but behind your eyelids, however, were the lingering traces of last night’s memories etched there. it began with those blue-green eyes, then the image panned out to reveal the entirety of alhaitham, broad and defined in ways built from a fantasy. 

hissing out a sharp curse, your eyes snapped open to shatter the visage. 

it was starting to feel like a never-ending joke. why could it not be as simple as falling in bed with an attractive man. 

you’d barely typed out a sentence before you eventually gave up, signalling defeat with the snap of the device closing. rubbing your eyes, you kicked the device to the edge of the bed and sprawled back against the bed. 

hopefully tomorrow would bring forth a more concise mindset.

|     ⚘⚘⚘      |

you woke several hours later tangled under a sea of blankets and the lingering taste of zaytum peaches. the faint glow of sunlight coming through the window indicated that it was sometime in the afternoon. instinctively, you rolled over to reached for your phone, heart stuttering at the feeling of hard cardstock against your fingertips. 

there had been no effort made to forget about what had transpired less than twelve hours ago, nor was it meant to be a rude awakening. those thoughts were better suited after a shower and something to eat. 

for now you roll out of bed in pursuit of the bathroom, mint taste and burn of mouthwash would help restart your day on a better note. you considered a second shower as well. the heat and steam was always a nice balm on a clogged brain, always helping to clear your head and think. 

the promise of peace lasted about as long foam forming from the slow drag of your toothbrush against your teeth. it didn't take very long at all for your mind to sink into reality; the fog dissipating somewhat as you realised with dread that this would not be something you could avoid without some confrontation. 

alhaitham

the name did not come without an overhanging cloud of density. it was a weighted thing, something of a reminder but you could not figure out the source beyond the stranger you’d met at the tavern bar. 

it was fairly customary name in sumeru though your tallied occurrences were low. perhaps a stray soul at the market in passing but nothing of significance. it had been an akademiya joke to place him in harvata without truly knowing, purely inspired by the natural flow of banter. 

but there wasn’t an alhaitham currently part of the darshan that you knew of. to be frank, when the name alhaitham came to mind it was only accompanied by occasional whispers in the absence of a highly regarded graduate and now scr—

your brows rose with each fragment of proof as realisation dawns with nauseating clarity. the soothing shower quickly becomes a brisk wash as you will your mind to calm. 

you were so stupid. so so stupid.   

spitting carelessly into the sink , you stagger through your strewn clothes as you return back to your bedroom with renewed vigour. the card you had tried to forget was quickly snatched up.

alhaitham kaysani 

grand scribe 

he was that alhaitham. the name bringing forth sobering clarity that had evaded you while post-orgasm. you had only known him in name, never having the opportunity to meet him. he wasn’t just faculty, he was damn near a sage after his achievements and one of the youngest to get so close. 

and he was your soulmate. 

snarky

callous 

rational

these were all phantom rumours stitched into the reality of the man you’d come to witness. 

but he was also dominating

attentive 

and responsible when baring you to the world and unravelling you at the seems. there could be little fault in you for not recognizing him at first given the circumstances. you had never met the man before yesterday.

now, in the safety of your own home, you can admit to yourself that deep down, twisting your perceptions, you'd be a little relieved to have found him. yes, you were scared— worried that fate might have skipped you in your doubt— but the fated milestone was reached. and he had wanted you, albeit sexually, the setting had made you desirable enough to bring you home. even after discovering the truth, he’d reached for more. 

in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest. 

despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future. 

you were both scholars, but he was more welcoming to the present evidence than you were. though given the abrupt shift in your reality, a bit of additional clarity felt like a needed kindness. 

tossing the card back down, you returned to the bathroom with the first spark of determination kindling. if your thoughts were going to be set aflame, you knew who to invite to the bonfire.

                                                 |     ⚘⚘⚘      |

“i thought you said you and kaveh were through?”

finding a friendship with dehya had been an unexpected but appreciative experience. sumeru city was built by and for the cultivation of scholars under the aged guidance of late archon of sumeru. the akedemiya prided itself on its accumulation of knowledge, though it had yet overcame its ostracism of the children of the desert. 

it boiled down to conflicting views of the source of knowledge and whom it ultimately belonged too, but those like dehya hardly cared little of the dispute. it was old news kept relevant but elders who needed to let the new generation decide the future.

ultimately, she found interest in your defiance. shared stories among drinks and good company overwriting centuries of bad blood.

you drew the steaming cup warming your palm closer, finding solace in the simple smell of caffeine rather than the taste of it. dehya kept her inquiries limited when you had first requested her company at the portside coffee shop but now her curiosity was brimming as she scrutinized you from across the table.

“we are.”

“so this has something to do with the random quality of life text i got last night?”

the curl of her lips hinted that she already knew the answer, the slow grin widening further when you tossed her a less than impressed scowl. 

“i found someone new.”

the sharp red of her freshly pained nails drummed patiently against the table top as her raised brow encouraged you to get on with it. 

with a huff, you opted to just get it all out. 

“i met a guy at a bar who ended up being my soulmate.”

the woman had the courtesy not to laugh outright in your face, but the quiet snicker that escaped through the side of her mouth couldn't hide her amusement. 

“you know i was rooting for you. i thought if anyone could defy the odds it would be you.”

her support, while generous, was one-sided towards your benefit. dehya had her restraints when it came to the exaggerated nonsense spewed by the akademiya on the subject. but she couldn't deny it’s biological merits after discovering her other half in the form of her childhood friend and now girlfriend. 

dunyarzad believed in a more muted rendition of the historic value of soul mates, a hopeless romantic that thrived on the magic of dreams. in a way you both humored the young woman, if only to be plagued with her infectious smile and outlook on life. 

dehya smirked, leaning forward on her elbows. the flaky croissant you had purchased as a show of gratitude forgotten. “so you go out with a stranger and they rock your world … and now you’re in the same boat as the rest of us."

you stare at her blankly, “it’s not that simple.’’

“it is if you stick by the facts,” she answers smoothly. “so you had one good night, you’re not obligated to marry him. if anything, you're the one hung up over it. why not just leave it as that and move on?”

your body jolts with the instinct to protest, but the weighted gaze she holds over you keeps you rooted until the words seep in. you had hardly delved into the details of the night, but she was reading you like an open book. 

society’s expectations weren't your reality. nor had alhaitham’s surmise given his perplexed but visible patience during your hasty escape. he had made the same discovery as you but didn’t hold you accountable for an explanation. 

instead he gave you the option. 

seek him out or leave it as it was. 

knowing him would be an emotional burden but you had lived this long without encountering him and would eventually outlive the physical reminder. 

dehya drew your attention back by the soft sound of her spoon clinking against the side of her mug.

“you’re my friend, but sometimes you scholars are all the same.”

setting the spoon aside, she leveled you with a look. “once you get a theory planted in your head, anyone outside of it is well out of reason. you all forget that the world is full of theories and opinions and there is so much more to explore if you would be more wiling to accept ones that aren't your own.”

her face softens as she reaches out to fold her palm over yours. 

“you came to me for advice at least, so let me give it. everyone's soulmate situation is unique. your parents for example.” you flinch at the mention, years of memories solidifying the reason you sought out the akademiya. 

dehya's fingers squeeze in reassurance as she continues. “at least hear him out. maybe their theory will compliment yours. and if not, well next time call me to a fight rather than a cup of coffee.”

the thinly veiled joke pulled a tight smile from your lips. 

she was right though. as a scholar you had encouraged a new experience and were left to analyze the variables. the night had been an unexpected outcome but not a failure.

in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest. 

despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future. 

you managed to finish your coffee before dehya eventually coaxed you out of the shop, muttering about a fresh text from dunyarzad as you parted ways at the entrance. 

the warmth of her encouraging hug still lingered as you plucked the contact card from its perch on your nightstand.

flipping the card, you found a neat scrawl of additional numbers, the intention clear. 

with that in mind, you reached for your phone and typed out a message. 

‘i’d like to talk.’

your thumbs tap against the screen idly, hoping he was awake and wouldn’t keep you waiting. it was a safe assumption that the man was a morning person when the reply was sent a few minutes later. 

‘fine. would you like me to come to you?.’

you thought about alhaitham coming to your flat. 

grand scribe alhaitham who was hardly as inconspicuous in sumeru city. 

soulmate alhaitham who had yet to have his way with you in your bed-

the last thing you needed to think about was either of you coming.

‘no, will you be home in the evening? i can be there.’

his reply was simple.

‘4pm.’

you stared at the text with a writhing feeling in your gut. it definitely needed to happen, a talk like this was better addressed soon than later. but maybe this was too soon. there was no taking the words back now but how hard would it be to just delete them? a simple swipe and tap and they’d be gone. 

you’d avoided alhaitham this long. and if you stayed away from a certain tavern you could continue to do so. he didn’t seem like a man who would put effort into something that lacked fruition. 

exhaling slowly, you tossed the phone away before you made another rash decision. confronting it now would be the smart thing to do. it was the best way to keep yourself from spiralling down a path of the unknown. just because you discovered your soulmate, nothing had changed. 

granted he gave you the best orgasm you’d had so far in your life, it was just that. a night of carnage that had you waking up with nothing but regret. how could anyone chase something so recklessly because they felt that the archons put their stars too close together?

yes, tackling this now would let you set the record straight. you didn't want a marriage proposal but that didn't mean— no, you wouldn't speculate or conjure up anything until you got on the same page. alhaitham seemed like a rational person, he likely didn’t believe in soulmates either. a good night in bed got the best of everyone. 

for a long moment, you stood in the noon shadow of your bedroom before eventually returning to the bathroom to finish your routine. as you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you tried hard not to look too close at your reflection again.

picking back up the phone, you craft and send a quick message to kaveh.

‘hope you haven’t fallen into a coma.’

and you hoped you aren't falling into a deeper mess. 

continued in part ii

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