#absolute filth but he’s cute i suppose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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cheonstapes · 5 months

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ok but nerd!miguel & piss kink.. idk.. thoughts r thunking..

(he luvs the humiliation of it all. that’s all ima say.)

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘GOLDEN SHOWERS’ (*≧∀≦*)

a/n ~ this exactly what you think it is, digital footprint goes crazy. THANK YOU ANNONIEE!!!!! love you🩷 nerd!miguel creds to @nymphomatique 💞

pairing; nerd!miguel x rich!fem!reader

wc; 800+

cw; SMUT!! filth, miguel and reader are a bit drunk, literally just piss and fucking. NAWT PROOFREAD - i finished this on the train

This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

He had took the initiative for the first time in your relationship, inviting you to his dorm for a little private party to celebrate you passing your recent test — one he helped you study for. What he wasn’t anticipating was half of your class showing up too. His heart was pounding out of his chest, fingers shaking slightly as he gripped the red cup in his hand.

The whole night he’d been downing drink after drink, the small amount of people doing nothing to calm his nerves — the music was booming, bodies grinding against each other, the sickening smell of alcohol in the air. “Heyyyy, Miggy! Thanks for throwing this party for me, you’re too sweet, baby.” He couldn’t help but blush at the slurred praise, regardless of if he actually intended to throw this party or not.

Your smile was just too pretty. Even under the dark lighting, he could see the shimmering of your tongue piercing — smiley poking out beneath your glossy lips. “You’re…You’re welcome.” The closer you get, the more his stomach falls to his ass. The drink in his hand goes down somewhat smoothly as the cup in crushed between his strong fingers, the same ones making their way to your exposed hips.

“Oh, someone’s feeling bold, hm? You wanna dance, then let’s dance.”

The way your hips swayed against his own was sinfully delicious, his mind slightly fuzzy as the substance intoxicated his thoughts. It was hard to stay focused regardless when having some as beautiful as you throwing your ass back against him in front of all these people — but he’s had one too many drinks to give a fuck about the stares, all he wants is you.

So he has you, bent over his bathroom sink — your heels scraping against the paint of his bathtub. “F-Fuuuck, miggy! Slow d — nngh — own.” The music was loud enough that no one could hear the way he was absolutely ruining your little pussy, a concoction of your shared fluids dripping out of you and down your sore thighs. Your tits were so soft, his thumbs gently caressing the cool barbells — tugging on them to bring out your cute little whimpers.

“My…shit — my bad, mommy. ‘S just, t-this pussy’s too fuckin’ tight — can’t…can’t stop.” Not that he wanted too, despite your complaints you couldn’t stop sucking his fat cock right back inside of you. It felt like you were wringing him dry, suctioning out everything he had to give you. At his current state, he knew he wasn’t gonna last very long — but poor Miggy couldn’t really tell the difference between the sensations he was feeling right now.

It was a familiar feeling nonetheless, the pressure on his lower stomach, the clenching, throbbing — but those drinks were starting to catch up with him, fast. The pressure on his bladder was getting worse with each slam of his hips against your ass, sending tremors throughout him. “M-Mommy? I’m — I think…’m gonna - ugh, shit!” You knew, from the amount of liquid you saw him consuming — you knew. “Gonna what, pretty boy? You gonna cum, or is there something you’re not tellin’ me?”

Jesus, your smile. The way you looked back at him, gripping onto the sink for leverage to grind back against him — sinking the blunt tip of his cock righttt against your womb. He cheeks were flushed both from the alcohol and from embarrassment, he was not about to tell you what you wanted to hear — you clearly had clocked on already so what’s the point of telling you what you already know?

His hips stuttered, the force of his release threatening to push his cock out of your stained hole. “God, you’re so dirty, Migs — ‘s like you’ve been waiting to do this, hm?” It felt so strange, the sudden warmness coating your walls as a steady stream of his piss left his sore tip. “S-Shit, sorry, I…I couldn’t control it.” He quickly pulled out, letting it drip onto the floor. Miguel wasn’t really sorry though, not with the way you were clenching sporadically around nothing — the look you gave him the moment he filled you up.

His mind is a vault of nasty, nasty things he wants to do to you — the sight of you now has him unconsciously stroking his soaked length, he was already so close to cumming anyway. But of course, he always, always, came inside his pretty mommy — can’t let it go to waste when he could be giving you a little baby instead. Squeezing his base, he pushed himself back inside of you — the fucked out moan you let out making his breath hitch.

The fat of your ass rippled against his pelvis as he pounded back into you, a messy mix of his cum and piss creaming where you two were connected. His hands anchored your waist, arching your back so he can fuck himself that much deeper in you.

“One more, mommy — let me fill you up one more time.”

-i’m sorry 😔

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #cheonstapes films!🪷#miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #nerd miguel

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

Note

so, i’m currently taking a west civics class in college, and i am currently researching ancient greek civilizations, most notably, the arts and culture of ancient greece. i know you have written a fic based on its mythological stories, with minotaur könig (bless your beautiful soul).

but through my readings, i couldn’t help but come up with such a dirty daydreams while in class. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking about könig and… the ancient olympics…

i know, realistically speaking, women were not allowed to attend or watch these games for the most part. so, in a universe where könig’s dedication not only falls upon him being a top man, but being the perfect man in honor of being recognized by the god of strength himself, he becomes so enticing in the way he trains and readies himself for such a significant event of his life. he’s never really had much to care for, neither does he need to prioritize anything that isn’t him or his training. he’s a workhorse, nothing stopping him from being the best, most valuable follower of zeus. that is… until…

well, it was your fault, and you admit that, but he wasn’t stopping you either. i mean, who could blame you, this little thing sneaking and peeping at a man who’s at work in order to provide to cute women like yourself. in fact, you argue that this was your way of appreciating a man, to observe them in their element in such a loving gaze. it didn’t help that könig was a man who preferred to train naked too, in all his glory, so of course there was no missing you, you were just too obvious for a man like him to notice you.

and with every grunt he’d give after each swing of a fist or a blade, a mew is what you’d give in return, your own form of a cheer for him to keep going. and you promised you didn’t mean to stare and make distracting noises, but an innocent maiden like yourself was just too hypnotized by this new anatomy that was found between this man’s legs. so outspoken, so dirty for your mouth to spew such beautiful filth to a stranger.

was this könig’s new test of endurance? part of the program to make him stronger for the olympic event that was just around the corner. he has heard man advising others to refrain from sex before the games, but he hadn’t even been given the chance to work on that since no one was bold enough to approach him like you did. he wonders, does fucking before a game really make a man weak, does thinking about shoving his big dumb cock in his soon-to-be wife distract him too much to succeed? perhaps, perhaps not, one thing he does know though, he’s got someone else to honor and worship, which makes his training all the more necessary.

Oh my god….. I’m totes not getting caught up in the fact that women were not allowed to participate in these activities….

This led me to think, what if some misbehaving little creature decided to peep at this Hercules reborn? She gets caught one day, but because she’s absolutely carefree and unhinged, she asks König if he could show her how to train.

CW: Nudity, implied sexism/misogyny (Ancient Greek society thang), teasing König to the point where he gets a boner and growls

Our Olympian hero gets so confused that he forgets he was supposed to report you or throw you out of the gym. Outside, where birds fly free and the sun tortures the trainees, he has picked a spot where he can train in solitude and silence: for some reason, other people’s stares make him uncomfortable… Until this curious, sweet little nymph came around, perched atop a wide rock, munching some wild mountain herb as she watched him train.

He allowed her to watch him train for two days, but on the third, he marched over to her and told her she needs to leave. Women are not allowed here, doesn’t she know that? Where are her parents? Does she have a husband?

No, no husband, and her parents don’t really care what she does. Well, this explains why she’s behaving this way. Running around the hillside so untame, watching men train—can’t she see she’s putting herself in danger? Any one of these men could decide to just take her on the barren land if she’s not careful.

She just giggles and asks, would he like to take her? Then points out that men shouldn’t waste their seed before a big competition. Also, Zeus’s wife would not think well of him if she saw him rut innocent women on the hill... There’s nothing but heaven above them, surely someone would see. The gods could curse him with a weak ankle, or a sprained muscle, a failing heart or a snake bite…

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” he says, but there’s even worse to come.

Next, she asks if he could show her how to lift those smaller rocks, how to throw a javelin or a discus. Could he teach her how to wrestle…?

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs while his groin floods with warmth at the thought of wrestling with this pretty, wonton woman. She’s absolutely disgraceful, and yet, he doubts she’s running from man to man, teasing them to death. She’s not begging to get raped, she’s just… a little gullible, or something. Happened to take interest in him, little thing. As she should, after all, he’s the pride of this city...

“You fear I’ll become better than you?” She asks with little stars in her stare.

“Bah. Don’t be ridiculous...”

They’re both smiling, now. This kind of banter and games he has never experienced with a lady, she’s making him extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, fly high like Icarus. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t get burned…

When he still refuses to show her how to train, she shrugs and goes over to the wooden javelin that’s taller than her. Picking it up, he expects the gods to smite her down with a sudden hail or thunder, but nothing happens. The sun keeps on shining, and the sheep keep on baaing. She weighs it with two hands, then starts to look for a spot to try and throw it.

“Wait,” he calls after her, but she only looks back at him with a smile. Picks off to run, with the javelin securely in her right hand, she runs like a deer while he lumbers after her, completely perplexed.

Insufferable woman… He’s growing hard from the cock as he runs, somehow aroused by this silly chase. Like Apollo trying to court Daphne, but his Daphne is not meek and unwilling; she’s giggling as he huffs and runs after her like a stumbling giant.

At a distant field of nothing but rock and weather-beaten flowers, she stops. Shields her eyes as she looks for a perfect spot, she’s not even breathless when he finally catches her. She turns around to look at her hero, catching his breath in the sun.

“You’re not fit enough for a marathon,” she comments. “Did you lift too many weights?”

“Give me the javelin,” he pants, dismissing her blunt analysis of his weaknesses. Stepping towards her, he extends his hand, offering her a chance to return it to him without fuss.

“Wrestle it from me,” she smiles, so playfully and brightly that his cock suffers another throb.

Gods damn this woman... She’s toying, playing with him, teasing him to the point where he’s left no choice.

He doesn’t want to hurt her, which means the “wrestling” becomes an awkward battle of snickers and limbs. His cock gets in the way, and to an outsider, this might look like a scene of an oddly gentle, upcoming rape… This little minx is giving him such an ache in his head and his loins that he’s gritting his teeth by the time he gets his hands around the wooden spear. By then, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms above her head as she’s lying on her back with him on top of her.

“I’m not letting go,” she laughs as they both hold the spear, his erection now blissfully trapped between her legs.

“Who sent you,” he grunts, head spinning as he tries to figure out which of the gods is trying to give him trouble this time.

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re here to thwart and tease me. Tell me who sent you, now.”

“You think I’m sent by some angry god?”

Her eyes sparkle even more, if possible. She even giggles under him and under the sun, her laugh like a thousand little bells in his ears.

“That’s so cute…!”

His grunts turn into a hollow, painful growl – even Tartaros is better than this.

“Train me, and I’ll let you have your silly javelin,” she smiles, even licking her lips before they purse together innocently.

But he knows she’s far from innocent. She has to be a curse of some sort, a plight sent here to torment him, because he finds himself sighing, “Alright…”

He gives her one condition: she has to wear clothes; no flaunting herself around him and especially not around the other men if they were to ever see her. They will both get flogged or worse if this mockery comes to daylight… She gives him a soft, adoring smile this time, and says of course, whatever he says.

The next day, she’s waiting for him at the training grounds, javelin in her hands…

Completely, utterly naked.

#könig x reader #könig x you #silliness #torturing könig #we all know how this will end so i don't have to write a full fic for it right ^^

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 3 months

Text

Cursed Lips Sink Ships

A/N: Nothin special.. Just out fave cursed speaker takin things a bit too far..

Toge didn't mean to. He swear on all that he honors the word just slipped from his lips. If any ones to blame it should be you. Two of you in a empty class room, supposed to be practicing a few techniques. That went out the window when you tripped, grabbing onto Toge's arm and taking him down with you.

He absolutely cannot recall how it ended up with you shamelessly writhing in his lap nude. One hand sloshing around inside your hungry lil puss while the other kneads your tit, deep blue manicured fingers massaging the soft flesh roughly as you moan out to him.

"Tooogeee! You see it? Don't look away, pussy's so wet for you. She likes you so much, huh? Know you like it too. Dont think I can't feel how h-hard your dick is. Bet it's as pretty as you are.. Mmmm.. Keep watching."

So he stares at you through the wide, long mirror adorning the thin wall. The sight and nasty filth spewing from your alluring lips makes his dick twitch and leak in his black slacks. Bad enough they're fucking drenched from the mess spillin outta you and he doesn't have a second pair with him.

"Doing so gooood, Toge. Listen like such a good boy. Ahhh.. Got me so close, gonna cum on my fingers so hard."

Fuck, he wants to see that. NEEDS to see it like he needs air. Toge just hopes he can hold his nut before then. It doesn't help that your ass repeatedly grinds slow circles on his cock. Doesn't help at all that you smell so good: like fresh fruit and blossoms and he doesn't know why that's so arousing.

"Ohfuckohfuck! Never felt this good before. Cause of you, Toge. All cause of youuu!"

Now he has to close his eyes for a moment, can't take the way your head leans back on his shoulder as you stare up at him in a daze. Body so soft, curves on display as you press against him sensually.

He doesn't understand how you think he can endure this. Just the sounds of your loud sloppy finger fuck is finna make him abandon this lil charade. He's bout to have the whole school hear the wails he can draw from your glossy lined lips.

"Open your eyes, Toge. Mmmfuck- gotta keep your pretty eyes on me, member? Eyes on me and n-no touchin. Then maybe I let you get a taste.."

Toge gulps, eyes opening as he squirms into the hard floor. His nails dig sharply into his thighs, hoping that's enough to keep from pinning you down and stuffing his face into your puffy brown folds.

"Ohhhh! Toge! Toge, I'm so close! You ready? Huh, baby? Ahhhfuh- wanna see me cum?"

Its cute how quick he nods for you, gaze so desperate as he stares in-between your legs through the reflection. So fuckin thirsty for it as you lose control in his arms, goosebumps covering his skin when your fingers rub neat little circles on your clit.

"Almost theeeere-"

'Come on, sweetheart.' Toge thinks. 'Cum for me. Lemme have it, y/n. Cum, cum, cum-.'

"Cum."

He doesn't mean to, the word spilling from his lips before he can stop. Cursed energy flowing out with it, compelling you to obey forcefully. The orgasm is so fuckin ferocious, forces your pitiful lil puss to contract around your fingers powerfully. It doesnt matter that you rip both hands from your overstimulated frame, still cumming like you got direct pressure on your throbbing lil button.

"P-plee-easse To! S-stooop! STOP!"

The amount of liquid that comes outta you is insane, bathing Toge's lower half as you drain your pussy on his clothed cock. You buck so widly in his lap, he has to grip your spasming body tight. Just cant take his eye's of your reflection, watching when you reach back to grip the hair at his nape to anchor yourself.

"Togeeee!"

Toge's so sorry, so so fuckin sorry. Can't believe he got caught slippin like this. He doesn't know how to help you more than covering up your hysterical shrieks with his palm as he cradles your body to his. Feels like Satan himself when he has to tense his gut to not buss at the scene before him.

"Salmon.. Salmon.." He whispers soothingly at your ear, apologizing over and over.

You cum for a full minute, the longest 60 seconds of your fucking life. Can't breath or see pass the tunnel vision as your sweaty frame goes limp in Toge's arm. Don't feel him shakin your body frantically and tappin at your warm cheek as he tries to wake you. You're completely outta it when Saturo clears his throat, knockin sharply outside the classroom door.

"Is everyone- uh.. Everything okay in there?"

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

Text

kinktober '22 ║ XX

pairing: javier peña x steve murphyx f!reader x horacio carillo

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 2.1k

summary: after another day of being unsuccessful in catching escobar, you offer the boys another way of relief.

warnings: foursome?? gangbang??, oral (giving/receiving), rimming (receiving), fingering (vaginal/anal), spit as lube, double penetration, for the sake of this fic no one is married, handjobs, alcohol consumption (everyone is aware of what's happening reader does get a little bit tipsy tho), creampie

a/n: this has been haunting me since I first started watching narcos, and kinktober is the perfect time to write such filth so yeah, this is dirty, also so much fun to write-- enjoy xx also this was supposed to be less then 1k words

MLISTS . LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

You dreamt of it before but never expected it to actually happen.

It’s late. Very late. Everyone has already returned to their homes and to their families. Meanwhile you –having absolutely no one except for Steve, Javier and Colonel Carillo– are cooped up in the Colonel’s office, all four of you on edge for having Escobar slip from your fingertips once more.

Javier is the one to pull out a bottle of whiskey that he hides in the drawers of his desk.

“For rough days,” he’d said. “And today has been a rough one, wouldn’t you guys agree?”

The liquor burns at first, but at the second glass it goes down easier, the burn not something that you look forward to. By the fourth one you’re still aware of your surroundings and who you’re with, but you have that certain buzz in your veins, warming you up from the inside out that makes you giggle constantly.

“Well she seems gone,” Steve muses, tilting his glass to his lips and swallowing the rest.

“I’m not!” you exclaim, sticking your bottom lip out. “I’m totally fine, don’t ruin this for me Murph,”

Javier is sitting next to you, you feel him shift, his fingers slowly starting to scratch the back of your neck. You lean into the touch, the ticklish sensation making you keen and ache for him. He’s a flirt, you know this, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it from time to time. You hear Carillo’s soft chuckle, his chest trembling as he rolls the glass between his fingers. You meet his glance, a soft smile tugging at his lips when you do. With a heated face, your eyes trail down his body. He’d opened up the first three buttons of his shirt, giving you a delicious view of his chest. It’s unprofessional but you had to admit you oogled him from time to time, wanting to squeeze those magnificent pecks since the first day you met him. He must’ve noticed your looks, he startles you by clearing his throat and you find yourself curling further into Javier’s heat with embarrassment.

“Cute,” he hums, his eyebrows raised. However his smile never wavers.

“We should head home,” Steve suddenly says, oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Carillo. “It’s late and we need to get here early tomorrow,”

You’re devastated when the other two agree, Carillo already heading to grab his coat and Javier making a move to get up. Without a second thought you hold him in place, your fingers wrapped tightly around Javier’s arm. His gaze drops to you, surprised and confused. You can’t let them leave. You just can’t. Not when your arousal is pulsing between your legs, heat licking your skin, begging for them to ease the flames.

“Don’t,”

Your voice cuts through the air like a bullet, Carillo and Steve both freeze at your tone, six pairs of eyes glued to you. You let out a stuttered breath, not really knowing what to say or how to go about it. Luckily Steve fills the silence with the obvious question lingering in the air.

“What’s wrong, bird?”

“I think–I think we shouldn’t go home…not–not yet,”

Javier relaxes back, his arm sneaking around your waist and pulling your flush against his chest. You see a smile cheating at his lips, eyes sparkling with understandment.

“And why shouldn’t we? Do you want something from us?”

Fuck, you can’t handle the teasing in Javier’s voice. Your heart is about to burst through your chest.

“Maybe…we can have some fun?” you swallow thickly around the knot rapidly forming in your throat. Carillo closes the door. “It’s been a hard day. We–We can unwind? If…If that’s alright?”

Steve’s grin is wide when he meets your gaze, he playfully nudges Carillo in the shoulder, and in return Carillo gives him the most offended look he can muster. It makes you giggle, Javier’s grip around you tightens.

“I think we should be asking the Colonel,” he muses. “It is his office after all,”

Carillo doesn’t answer, instead he struts towards the blinds and closes them, the sound reverberating within the somewhat small office. You haven’t realized the breath you were holding until he turns to you and Javier, his gaze locking with yours.

“Just in case someone decides to show up,”

Everything happens so fast after that. You find yourself stripped naked on all fours, Javier is behind you, eating you out in the most enthusiastic way possible as Carillo lays underneath you, his shirt now fully unbuttoned while his tongue dances across your tits. A moan ripples from your throat, taking full advantage of this Steve inches closer, his cock firmly in hand, he nudges your lips with the tip, a dollop of precum staining them as he pulls back.

“Can I?”

You stick your tongue out, looking up at him between eyelashes eagerly. You spread your fingers across Carillo’s broad chest, you can’t help but squeeze them as Steve pushes in between your lips, cock throbbing against your tongue. However, you gasp away when Javier pushes two fingers inside, his tongue moving up to tease your asshole. He groans into you, fingers digging into your thighs.

“Fuck you taste so good baby,” he rasps, a series of slurps following. “Do you think you can take two of us?”

“Prepare her well and she can,” Carillo chimes in from between your breasts, his large hand cupping the side of your left tit. His gaze finds yours, softening in an instant, the change in mood makes your clench around Javier’s fingers. “Isn’t that right, amor?”

You nod as you move towards Steve’s cock once again, taking him halfway into your mouth, you feel Javier’s tongue pushing through the tight muscle, your body tenses at the unfamiliar penetration. Steve’s thumb brushes the side of your cheek, pulling your squinted gaze up to face him. He’s looking down at you softly, a small smile on his lips. You’ve never seen him look at you like that before. It makes your heart beat even faster, your insides a flurry of emotions.

“Relax sweetheart, Javi will take good care of you– And if he doesn’t we’ll kick his sorry ass,”

Much to your surprise, Javier doesn’t retort, instead he hums and wiggles his tongue forward, curling his fingers at the same time. Stars burst across your vision, and before you know it the tip of Steve’s cock is touching the back of your throat. You swallow around him, hungrily swirling your tongue around the tip. He lets out a strangled noise, he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, his thumb still delicately caressing your taut skin.

His precum coats your tongue, at the same time Carillo draws your stiff nipple into your mouth, teeth gently nipping the sensitive nub. A muffled shout vibrates around Steve’s cock and his hips stutter forward, burying more of himself down your throat. Javier continues to fuck you with his fingers as he pulls back, your hear him first, then feel the wetness across your gaping hole. Your insides clench around his fingers and he inhales a sharp breath.

“Looks like someone liked that,” he teases. “I’m going to loosen you up with my finger now, alright?”

Looking up at Steve you nod, he turns to Javier and does the same.

“She’s good, you can go on,”

And he does.

You’re surprised at how much you feel with only one finger inside of you. The stretch of it makes you squeeze your eyes shut, eyebrows knitted together as you breathe heavily through your nose. Steve’s thrusts trail into a soft roll of his hips, allowing you to breathe.

“She’s so tight,” Javier grunts, pulling his finger out and slipping the same finger past his first knuckle. A whimper falls from your lips. “–mierda,”

Carillo looks up to you with a questioning gaze, a look that goes unnoticed by you. With an idea shaping in his mind, he sneaks a hand down between your bodies and begins to draw quick circles around your clit. Arousal pools between your legs, slick dripping down your thighs and his fingers. Your mind spins, body burning as you start to bob your head up and down Steve’s length. His fingers slide to the back of your head, blunt nails scratching your scalp. With the help of Carillo, Javier soon slips a second finger, then a third– Sweat coats your skin, a tingle running up and down your spine again and again. You moan around Steve’s cock, his balls laying heavy on your chin, spit dribbles down the corner of your lips. Carillo moans into your skin before pulling away from your tits.

“Do you think you are ready for us?”

“Y-Yes,” you say, throat already sore. You stroke Steve’s cock as Javier positions himself behind you, slotting his length into where his fingers were not moments ago. Carillo aligns himself with your throbbing sex, the mushroom tip fitting inside of you nicely. A mewling gasp tears away from your lips. “Fuck–”

You feel like you’re about to burst at the way they fill you up, you continue to stroke Steve’s cock with enthusiasm, your grip tightening around his length. He lets out a shuddered breath, his head falling back as he shallowly thrusts into your fist. When Javier and Carillo start to move in tandem with each other, you fear that you might black out at any given moment. Every thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, uncontrollable moans and a string of curse words etched into your lips as they fuck themselves deeper into you. During all of this, Steve’s cock finds its way back between your lips, fucking your mouth as the other two claim your from the inside.

The noises that echo within the office are down right sinful. Steve is more silent then the other two, Javier being a tad bit more verbal than Carillo. Javi calls you every pet name imaginable, praises and good girl’s falling from his lips as he pounds his hips into yours. With a half-ear you also hear Carillo but you hear only Spanish, not a clue of what anything he says means. He grabs your breasts, squeezing them while canting his hips into yours. Your cunt flutters around him, your insides squeezing them both. You moan around Steve’s cock, he throbs and twitches on top of your tongue.

Heat pools in your lower stomach, folds soaked with slick. Your orgasm breaches you suddenly, all your muscles seizing as you gush around Carillo’s cock. The sounds you make are muffled thanks to Steve’s cock, the men inside your groan with unison, you can feel both their cock’s twitching, ready to burst.

“Where should we cum?” Javier asks, and Steve pulls out of your mouth momentarily.

You take heaving breaths, pleasure overwhelming and still tickling your skin. Still, you manage to answer.

“Inside–” you gasp. “I want all of you inside,”

Carillo groans, his hips stammering. You hear him whispering out a fuck before fucking into you with impeccable strenght and speed, Javier hisses behind you, his cock throbbing. He can feel the other man moving inside of you, making his balls ache with the need to release. You swirl your tongue around Steve’s cock and suckle on the tip, he’s the first one to go, cumming down your throat in thick ropes. You swallow around him, moaning at the taste.

The corners of your vision turns black when two men fills you to the brim, most of it spilling outside as they ride out their orgasms by fucking their spend deeper into you. Your head falls onto Carillo’s broad chest, your mouth decorating his pecks with wet, open mouthed kisses. Their thrusts slows down into a halt but they remain inside you, Steve disappears for a moment and comes back with a glass of water, he presses the glass rim against your lips. You drink eagerly, most of it spilling down your throat and landing on the colonel’s chest.

Javier pulls out with a groan, not forgetting to place a fleeting kiss at the small of your back. You shudder at the feeling, you feel Carillo’s lips at the top of your head.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, you hiss when you feel a paper towel at your backside.

“Sorry,” Javier says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “The colonel doesn’t have spare towels in his room,”

“I have shirts, you can use one of those. Don’t hurt her,”

A small chuckle parts from your lips. “It’s fine, I just wasn't expecting it,”

None of you returned home that night, lost in each other's bodies until morning came.

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove , @rainbowcreepie

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x f!reader #horacio carillo x reader #javier x steve x reader x carillo #narcos fic #narcos x reader #kinktober '22 #kinktober 2022 #smutober

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saiikavon · 2 months

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(I’ve been volunteering at a cat shelter so my brain is full of cats. Also for some reason I really like it when Kaiba is a cat, so what better way to shake off the rust from a couple of weeks of no writing? Here we go.)

Seto does not usually take this route on his walks. Strays tended to congregate more freely in alleyways where trash got overlooked. Animal control was less stringent than in nicer neighborhoods, which was a plus, but the same could not always be said for the residents in the area. Old Tanaka on his porch was more likely to throw heavy objects than Miriko-San in her cute penthouse.

But, well, Seto has little choice today. His usual route had garnered some...inconvenient attention, and he'd been forced to take a detour. As it had been said, animal control could be a bit of a nuisance in a nice neighborhood, and Seto is not keen on ending up in the pound for the evening.

Skipping his walk isn't an option, either. Spending a minimum six hours a week in animal form was necessary to keep a shifter's body healthy, a fact which Seto had drilled into Mokuba's head many a time before. Seto refuses to be called a hypocrite over a minor upset in routine.

Still, this area is...unpleasant. He has to resist the urge to shake his paws on every step, disgusted by the grimy trash stains splattered over the asphalt. He wrinkles his nose as he passes an apartment undeniably belonging to a smoker, and tries not to pay attention to the filth lining the bottom of the brick walls. Surely, he'll be taking a long, hot shower once he gets home.

And then, the worst arrives, making kissy noises like an imbecile, holding fingers with their split, dirty nails out, presumably for Seto to sniff.

Of all the neighborhoods to wind up in...

"Come here, pretty boy," Jounouchi croons, making more of those embarrassing noises, even as Seto sits in place with ears pinned back in obvious displeasure. "C'mon, kitty, it's okay. You lost, precious? You hungry?"

Seto flicks his tail. As if he needs any more reasons to want nothing to do with the idiot.

He contemplates turning away, forcing this foolish deadbeat to either continue embarrassing himself until Seto turned a corner or to leave himself, but something makes him pause. There is an earnestness in Jounouchi's eyes, a determined compassion in his gestures that he supposes may be considered benefits. Assets. There's no telling whether Seto will be forced to reroute again; why shouldn't he have someone looking out for a lonely stray in this backwards neighborhood?

Convenience, he tells himself. That's all. That's the only reason he steps cautiously forward, offering Jounouchi's dirty fingers a cautious sniff.

The idiot actually beams at the small gesture, and rubs in between Seto's ears, earning him a swipe and a hiss.

Don't touch me until you've washed your hands, you dirty mutt!

Jounouchi doesn't seem put off by the near-scratch, however; he only chuckles and leans back on his heels, still grinning. "You look like you're a long way from home. Never seen a stray around here with a coat as nice as yours. You get lost, pretty boy? Or someone dump you?"

He frowns at that. Seto's heart twinges for the concern, despite himself.

"Hey, either way, I bet you're hungry. Hope you're not too fancy for some canned convenience store tuna."

It certainly isn't Seto's favorite. But again, the earnestness gets to him, somehow. He offers little more than a slight chirp, tail flicking.

He watches as Jounouchi stands, smiling once more. "Wait here. I'll go grab you some."

Seto scoffs to himself as Jounouchi begins to turn toward the nearest building, aiming to go inside. He stands and stretches instead of waiting, following at the deadbeat's heels up the concrete steps. There is absolutely no chance he's spending a second longer out on this filthy street if he doesn't have to.

"Oh, you wanna come in?" Jounouchi's grin widens, eyes practically glittering. Ridiculous. "Well, okay, then. Sorry in advance about the mess. I haven't gotten to the laundry yet today."

There's a surprise. Seto decides not to comment with any noises on that, instead carries on following Jounouchi into his warmer, marginally cleaner apartment.

He'll have to leave eventually, but Jounouchi is, surprisingly, not so bad...perhaps, if the pattern holds, Seto might consider changing his route permanently.

So long as Jounouchi never finds out it’s him.

#puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaiba is a cat #animal shifter au

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 2 years

Text

Make-Up Sex

Dom!Valkyrie x Fem!reader

a/n: Hi everyone! I felt like I haven't written a really spicy story in a while so here's something fun and also new...if you saw one of my previous posts, I am now also taking Valkyrie requests! So...enjoy the first of I'm sure many to come. Also am I the only one who’s been literally THIRSTING so bad for her? I’m sure I’m not lmao but DAMN is she FINE😩😫

LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO MY VALKYRIE TAGLIST!

Summary: Story takes place in New Asgard (TLAT SPOILER FREE!) you and V get into a fight and I'd say it has a very happy ending.

Warnings: SMUT!, 18+ only, fingering, eating out, strap, a lot of filth.

Word Count: 2264 Words

Request: (Anon) dom!valkyrie x fem!reader with absolute filthy smut. Like they have a fight about something they don't even remember anymore and they make it up with aggressive sex.

“You’re fucking kidding me right V?” You snap at her after what seemed like hours of you two fighting over the same thing again and again.

“Love, seriously it is nothing. Jane only has eyes for Thor, it’s very obvious.”

“That’s not my point. You can’t just be blatantly flirting with her when we’re together.”

“Y/N, you need to stop being so anxious, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“How am I supposed to believe that even for a minute if you can’t stop fucking looking at her? Yeah,” You scoff, “ I see your eyes wandering up and down her body every time she walks into the room. The stupid fucking smirk that comes across your face with it too.”

Valkyrie rolls her eyes at you as she pours out a generous glass of scotch for herself.

“Look, I’m not “eye fucking” anyone.” She says as her hands draw overly dramatic air quotes. “I’m just doing it to mess with Thor, the same way he did to me when the two of us started dating.”

A confused look crossed your face. “What’re you even talking about?”

“Really.” Valkyrie says with a smug look.

You raise your eyebrows in her direction with a slight shoulder shrug.

“All he did was hit on you when I first brought you home. It took me months to get him to stop, I’m just playing around now…getting my revenge.” She says with a cocky wink.

You just roll your eyes and turn around heading for the door.

“Wait! Where you going?” She runs up behind you, grabbing your shoulder

“Fuck off V. I can’t do this right now.” “Y/N, love, it’s just for jokes.”

“Was it really a fucking joke when you told her how hot she looked today? As if I don’t realize how hot she looks, much better than I do every day. Was it really a joke when you talk to her about how you’d treat her better than Thor can? That shit hurts Val. I’m sorry but I can’t do this right now.”

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, shut up. Don’t ever tell me anyone is hotter than my girlfriend ever again.”

“You’re THE ONE WHO SAID IT.”

“I never EVER said she was hotter than you. I gave her a small compliment, besides that’s not the point nobody is fucking hotter than you. You are the most drop-dead GORGEOUS woman I’ve ever met and trust me I’ve travelled the nine realms, I should know.”

What she did had you enraged but all the words coming out of her mouth just made you fall that much more for her.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as your eyes scan her face, not sure where they should land after hearing what she just said. As your gaze settles on her lips you push yourself into her, crashing your lips into hers in one swift motion. As your tongues fight for dominance, your knee is slowly grinding against her, making her squirm underneath you. You feel Valkyrie’s breath hitch as you smirk into your kiss. You feel her hands grab you, quickly turning both your bodies so you’re shoved against the wall as she looks down at you with a smile. Her one hand has a forceful grip around your neck, slowing down your breathing.

“Awe look at you princess. You’re so cute when you think you’re the one in control.”

A small gulp pushes itself down your throat that she felt pass by her tight grip. Your eyes were locked on hers for a moment as you feared what was going to happen next.

Valkyrie’s hand releases you as her mouth starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. Some of them were more bites than kisses, leaving dark purple marks all over you.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you gorgeous.” She growled into your ear. You felt your knees weaken at her words and a pathetic whine escapes your lips.

Valkyrie takes a small bite of your lower lobe as she pulls away, looking at you again, admiring you and thinking of all the things she was about to do to you.

Your eyes trail down to Val’s pants as a noticeable bulge catches your eye…she was packing.

Before your eyebrows had the chance to even raise, you felt her hand come under your chin and pull your face up to lock eyes with her. “Uh uh uh princess, not yet. Be patient my love, there are lots of things I want to do to you first.”

She knew how much it bothered you when she calls you princess and yet she will continue to do it just to ensure you were frustrated.

Valkyrie’s hands trailed down your body, eventually hooking a finger into the waistband of your pants pulling you away from the wall and over to her thrown.

“Strip.” She says as her eyes attempt to undress you before you got the chance.

“Sit.” She towered over you as you sat on her throne, vulnerable to anyone who could walk into the room at any moment.

“You’ve been bad beautiful,” V says as her arms cross and one eyebrow raises at you.

“How many times do we have to do this until you realize there’s no need to be jealous of anyone else?” Valkyrie gets down on her knees and starts leaving kisses along the outside of your thighs.

Feeling a little cocky you look at her and regretfully opened your mouth, “already on your knees for me your majesty?”

A head tilt followed by a low chuckle, V immediately gets up yanking you off the chair so quickly you nearly fell over. If it wasn’t for her pulling you back towards her and wrapping her other arm around your waist you would be laying on the floor. Your chests pressed up against one another, the cold of her armour touching your bare skin, sending shivers down your back.

“What did you just say to me, darling?”

You knew better than to open your mouth again but was it ever fun to challenge Valkyrie’s dominance over you. You just knew that she would punish you for whatever you said or did if it was anything but obeying her every word.

“Down.” She says putting her hand on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Val’s hands were occupied with her belt buckle as you looked up at her with innocent eyes and concern for what was going to happen next.

“How about, we put that pretty little mouth of yours to work so it doesn’t get you in any more trouble hmm?” She says with a smirk as her hand takes a fist full of your hair, slowly lowering your lips down onto her strap. Your breathing slows as you take in less air with her not letting go of you. “Look at me princess while you suck my cock.”

Your eyes dart up to her face as your lips start to go numb from the motion and friction against the silicone. Valkyrie continues to make your head bob up and down as her hand pulls your hair and uses it to push you further down on her cock.

“Have you learned your lesson yet love?” She says loosening her grip on you and slowly caressing your cheek with your mouth still full of her dick.

Maintaining the same eye contact, you slowly nod your head at her as a smirk comes across her face.

“Come,” she says, offering her hand out to you to pull you off the ground.

“Since you were such a good girl, taking all of daddy’s cock, you get to sit and enjoy me doing something for you now.” She says gesturing towards the throne again as you take your seat.

Valkyrie spreads your legs and without wasting time allows her fingers to run up your folds which to nobody’s surprise were soaked. “Someone’s quite excited.” She says with a smirk. You were about to roll your eyes at her when the shudder of pleasure shot up your body at the feeling of one of her fingers entering you. Your mouth opened to let out a moan that didn’t want to come out as your head flew backwards, eyes closed as your body filled with pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck V.” You groaned out as another one of her fingers entered into you.

Val was slowly increasing the speed of her fingers as her tongue found its rightful place drawing circles on your clit causing you to squirm under her touch. Valkyrie can’t help but smile when she looks up at you, seeing how pretty you look with your eyes shut and head thrown back trying to swallow the moans she’s creating.

With all the teasing and tension between the two of you, it makes sense how quickly you were ready to cum. Your hips started bucking up and down on her mouth.

“V— I think I’m getting close.”

You feel Valkyrie insert a third finger and her arm starts pumping in and out of you as fast as she can as her tongue draws figure eights on your clit. Your hips are bucking into the air as you cum all over her face, pushing her fingers deeper inside of you.

Everytime she makes you cum she has the most devilish smile on her face. Once you came down from your high, you felt her lips on yours again.

“Do you like how you taste princess?” She whispers into your kiss.

Fuck you nearly melted right then and there.

You nodded in response to her question as you pulled away from her face.

“I’m not quite done with you yet, love.” She says, pulling away and offering her hand to help you up. As you stand, you almost topple over from how weak your legs felt post-orgasm. Valkyrie chuckles watching you struggle to stand.

“Allow me.” She says as you wrap your arms around her neck and jump up to wrap your legs around her waist. She carried you over to the wall, backing you up against it as she slowly lowered you down onto her strap, giving you enough time to adjust.

You let out a loud moan when her tip entered you as your pussy stretched to take her full length. Fuck was this hot. She has done many…many things to you before but holding you up, fucking you against a wall? That’s new.

Valkyrie watched your face as you moaned in pleasure from her cock slowly going in and out of you. Your pussy soaked her cock as she continued to pound into you. Small whimpers falling from your lips only made her thrust into you faster. Her head would lean into the crevice of your neck, panting as she pounded you.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge again just from her movement, your clit was pulsating, begging to be touched.

“Val, I think I’m going to cum again.” You mumble.

“Not yet princess.” She replies.

A groan falls from your mouth at the sudden absence of her dick. Valkyrie lightly lets your legs fall to the ground and brings you over to the conference table, pushing on your upper back, forcing you to bend over it. She grabs one of your thighs, pulling it up so your knee is resting on the table top. You feel her lick a strip up and down your pussy followed by the tip of her cock slowly teasing your entrance. The small bit of attention your clit got for her mouth was almost enough to push you over the edge but you knew there would be consequences if you came after she told you not to.

After a few seconds of your folds being teased, you feel her push into you, taking all 8 inches at once you let out a loud groan. Val held down your leg for leverage as she pounded your pussy, you could hear how wet you were with every thrust into you.

“V— please. I am so close, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it for.” You say clenching yourself around her cock. You feel her bring a hand down onto your ass cheek as you wince in pain.

No response as she continues to increase her pace at which she’s thrusting into you.

Her thrusts are getting sloppy and breathing is shallow. “You ready to cum for me princess?”

“Yes, daddy, please let me cum for you.”

“Cum for me, gorgeous.”

Finally, you release all over her cock, as your hands try to grab onto the mahogany table she had you bent over. You screaming her name as her thrusts slow down and your legs stop shaking.

Valkyrie slowly pulls her length out of you and before you had the energy to lift yourself up and turn around to look at her, she already had her pants up and her belt being done up. It didn’t even look like she just fucked the hell out of you but holy shit did you look ruined. She just looks at you with a smirk as you try to fix your hair and compose yourself as you scan the room for where your clothing ended up.

“Did you learn your lesson princess?” She asks with a smirk. “Or will I have to teach it again later tonight?”

Her cocky attitude always worked on you and only the gods knew you were ready to run your mouth again later once you could walk straight.

-- The End --

Some tags just for notis: @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @3xbyrn320 @thorya22 @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @wandanatvoid @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @yelenaslyubov

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proship-angelbunny · 1 month

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Wow, I expected the story of how Alastor and Percy started dating to be dark, but this is a whole other level of dark ... I love dark couples, and good character work. So, I was wondering how would Angel and Husk (+ Charlie) react if they found out the truth about their relationship? I think they would think that Percy is the victim in this relationship, and that he is in this relationship against his will (well, because he is a child), which of course is not the case, nor is Percy the victim

HOW THE HAZBIN CAST WOULD REACT TO FINDING OUT ABOUT ROSECEST

Charlie

Oh she’s absolutely traumatized by this. She’d basically immediately bonded with Percy (because ooo cute doll who’s so incredibly polite) so she’s heartbroken by the discovery

Charlie blames herself for this, for being stupid enough to let a obvious predator into her hotel, for not catching on sooner there was something off about the supposed “father and son” they claimed to be, for letting Percy get “abused” under her roof

She’s absolutely inconsolable, locking herself it her bedroom like in ep 7, not talking to Al for days, not letting anyone near her accept Vaggie

If Charlie is seen at all then she’s a mess, huge eye bags from not sleeping, unwashed and tangled hair, just a wreck

Charlie is convinced Percy is just a helpless victim in all of this

Basically the discovery breaks her, sure she has Lucifer and Vaggie, but no proof redemption is possible, the overlord who was responsible making this more then just a dream turned out to be a irredeemable monster, and does anyone down here even deserve redemption?

Alastor

He had a suspicion this wouldn’t go well at all, he tried so hard to keep his darling little doll away from the hotel, not wanting to fill Percy’s mind with such nonsense as “redemption” and “morality” as if he could even be redeemed at this point, that boy is his

Eventually he relaxed (knows how go manipulate everyone) enough to let Percy stay with him

They both play their parts well, after all they’ve had decades to prefect their little act, sneaking kisses and anything else that would jeopardize their facade behind closed doors or when no one was watching

He tries to keep Percy isolated even in the hotel, often watching his son’s interactions to make sure Percy isn’t getting pulled away from his controlling loving grasp

Once the secret is out he’s furious. Immediately trying to find whoever saw them so he can make them pay

If you thought he was being mean in ep 5 then ohh boy he’s worse. No more nice pleasantries, no more polite alastor, no everyone is going to see just how sadistic and cruel the radio demon can be

No one is safe from his wrath, even those who’ve been with alastor for decades

Sure his souls probably get the nicest treatment out of anyone, but all of them are still threatened with harsh punishment if they don’t help him

Percy (thankfully) isn’t physically punished for this, he’s simply watched constantly to make sure he doesn’t run off with charlotte

If he gets his hands on the FILTH who caught them…well let’s just say he’ll be on air for a while

Vaggie

She saw something like this coming…

not something THAT awful but she was right to not trust alastor at all

She’s absolutely disgusted by the discovery, sure as a former exorcist she’s done some awful things, but abusing a helpless child like that…it crossed a line

She can barely look at Alastor without wanting to rip him to shreds

Vaggie is thankfully kept occupied by Charlie’s breakdown, gotta be a supportive girlfriend :)

She desperately wants to try and talk with Percy about this to reason with him, maybe somehow convince him that what Alastor is doing is very wrong, that her and Charlie can help him, anything

She knows Charlie is in no state to be the group’s leader so she steps in to the role

Angel

He’s…..conflicted. On one hand he’s horrified by/for Percy, but angel also understands how hard it is to escape a abusive relationship

He wants to talk to Percy about this, to maybe help the kid get out to make sure Percy doesn’t end up trapped like him. But he can never get Percy alone long enough to talk

Angel knew since Percy arrived there was something more between the boy and alastor (if them being so clingy wasn’t a obvious enough hint) he’d often be “conventionally up” after everyone else had gone to bed to try and catch them

His drunken tirade is actually what got this whole mess started

Angel is absolutely terrified of alastor after learning the truth it reminds him too much of Valentino

If Angel was making progress on recovery in season 1 oh boyyy that’s gone. He’s back trying to numb everything with sex, alcohol and drugs (hell it’s probably worse because he can’t get the image of Percy being abused/his own memories of Valentino to stop)

Husk

Oh boyy…husk

He doesn’t take it well at all, he already didn’t like alastor to begin with and that’s absolutely true now

The way I picture him finding out is through drunken rambling from angel. He first writes it off as just Angel being wayyyyy to intoxicated and probably confusing one of his scripts for something real

But his mind refuses to accept that answer, so he goes and confronts alastor about it

The more they talk the less convinced husk is that alastor is innocent of everything

They get into a whole big fight about it (picture something similar to the leash scene from ep 5 but more aggressive) and the rest find out from there…

Niffty

Being Alastor’s oldest trapped soul comes with some oerks, like already knowing your boss is in a romantic relationship with his adopted son

Yeah she’s hurt about everyone getting into a whole big thing about this, but she’s really too busy cleaning and being her chaotic little self to really care

She makes sure to spend some extra time with Percy after everything goes down, trying to help distract her bestie and basically adopted baby brother with her usual antics (roach puppet show woooo!!!)

Niffty continues to look up to alastor even after everything is revealed, continuing to be around the two constantly.

If rosecest end up leaving the hotel niffty soon disappears with them as well

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

Text

Fuck Yeah 1st birthday fic vote

I survived one year on this hellsite! 😉 It's been a wonderful almost 365 days in our little Pedro fandom - March 19 was the day I posted It Would Be, and what a ride it’s been since! Thank you friends, mutuals, readers, followers and everyone who makes it so much fun to create and to share with you guys ❤️

How about a ✨ fic vote ✨ to celebrate? It's been a while since we had one, and I've been very mean and teasing y'all with so many plot bunnies. Help me decide what to write next!

Since I have no plans to start a new series after I finish Palomino, these are all one- or two-shot ideas. I hope to get round to writing all of them at some point, but I will write them in the order of votes received. Fic summaries below the cut!

Young!Joel Miller x Baker!F!Reader | outbreak, what outbreak? | fluffy meet cute with a smutty second part | planned two-shot

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

The first draft of this idea was Speed Dial, which was supposed to be a PWP, but as it turns out, I'm not great at PWPs... so how about a two-shot instead?

Javier Peña x Centra Spike Analyst F!Reader | accidental audio voyeurism | one-shot, might be more | sexual tension galore

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re alone and transcribing a tape recording of an informant for Javier Peña, something you've done a hundred times before - except this time, you overhear something that is clearly not meant for your ears.

I've been stewing in this idea since before New Year's. Probably the most creative idea I've had so far, and will probably be difficult to write, but this fic haunts my dreams and I will have no peace until I sit down and write it.

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader | straight-up filth | planned two-shot

Summary: He's absolutely not your type. But hey, what happens in Glastonbury stays in Glastonbury - especially mistakes in the shape of a silver-tongued, smarmy American cowboy sporting a ridiculous belt buckle.

After going to a music festival last weekend, this is all I've been thinking about.

Joel Miller x F!Reader | self-conscious!Joel and shy!Reader | 👏🏻 body positivity 👏🏾 | planned one- or two-shot with potential to be more

Summary: Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.

That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.

There, he meets you.

Thank you everyone who has been so enthusiastic about this idea! It definitely has Grays vibes, but can you blame me for wanting to give this man reassurance? I’m also super excited to write a shy reader, which is a departure from my others ❤️

Frankie Morales x F!Reader | enemies to lovers | second chances | angst | planned two-shot

Summary: At the Summer House where you and the boys have always spent the last week of August, some traditions are held sacred. Above all, Frankie always brings a girlfriend, and you're always single.

You really should’ve known better than to tempt fate. The summer Frankie shows up alone and you bring a boyfriend is when it all falls apart.

I am beyond excited about this one. I've teased the idea before - it's going to be so self-indulgent and will have all the tropes that I've wanted to write for. It's been a while since I've written angst, and damn this will be angsty!

Got any burning questions? My askbox is open as always! I'll leave this poll up for a week, excited to see what the results will be ❤️

#fuckyeah1stbirthday #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #kingsman fanfiction #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #narcos fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x fem!reader #fuckyeahpolls

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chess-writes · 8 months

Text

Braids and Connections

YuzuMayo

💜 Warnings: none as far as i'm aware besides Mayoi-typical self destructive speech. possible ooc, no confirmed relationship hut they do crush on each other really hard.

💜 Note: wwow i love rarepairs with absolutely no content. also i find it funny that Mayoi and Ritsu have been in the most fics so far when i'm actually a MikaP/ShuP.

💜 Summary: Yuzuru does Mayoi's hair.

Mayoi always tried to take care of his hair. He really did. The texture of tangles and oil made him uncomfortable and unhappy.

But no matter what he did, Yuzuru always insisted on brushing and redoing his braid. Mayoi couldn't understand how someone so elegant and sweet would ever enjoy being near filth like him, much less touch him.

But Yuzuru always insisted he didn't mind, and also said time and time again that he loved playing with and doing his hair.

"Mayoi-san, your hair is very soft." Yuzuru complimented softly as he untied Mayoi's braid. Mayoi was hunched slightly, sitting criss-cross on the floor. Yuzuru sat behind him on a chair, smiling down at him.

Mayoi blushed and squirmed slightly. "You're too kind to me, Yuzuru-san..." he lightly bit at his thumbnail.

Yuzuru started to comb through his hair with his fingers, careful to not painfully tug on his hair. Mayoi sat still, trying to not fidget or squirm too much.

"I'm simply telling the truth. It's very soft, you take good care of it." he pulled out a brush and started to slowly get rid of any remaining small tangles.

Mayoi squirmed a bit more, and Yuzuru could tell he was flustered.

He thought that was very cute.

Yuzuru hummed quietly as he brushed, not stopping when the tangles were gone. He was almost in a trance, fully focused on the idol in front of him.

How could he not be? Mayoi was kind, gorgeous, and nice to speak to. Yuzuru enjoyed being near him, and Tori had even commented on the way Yuzuru always made sure to say hello when running into Mayoi.

He was lost in thought, humming as he played with his hair. Mayoi made no move or sound to object to this. Yuzuru couldn't see it, but he had a relaxed, albeit flustered, smile.

It was peaceful.

Yuzuru put down the brush and started to lightly play with his hair again, running his fingers through his hair and even gently massaging Mayoi's scalp.

He could see his ears turn red, and he almost couldn't stop himself from cooing about how cute he was. Thankfully, he's learned to not speak without thinking.

As much as the butler was enjoying this, he could tell that Mayoi was starting to get a bit overwhelmed. He was squirming a bit and fiddling with his fingers more. Yuzuru didn't want to upset him, so he quickly redid the braid. He was careful to keep it sleek and elegant.

"Alright, i'm done. Thank you, Mayoi-san. I quite enjoyed our time together." Yuzuru smiled as he stood up, offering Mayoi his hand.

Mayoi took it, biting the inside of his cheek. "I.. I enjoyed it as well. I know a filthy creature like m-"

Yuzuru shook his head, reaching out to gently grasp Mayoi's hands. He held them to his chest, enjoying the flushed expression the other had.

"You are not a filthy creature, Mayoi-san. You are a human. A sweet, lovely, and caring human." he spoke softly. He knew it would take more than a few words in a tender moment to make Mayoi change his views of himself, but he still wanted to express his feelings.

Mayoi was shying away, staring at their hands touching and shrinking into himself a bit. He was occasionally glancing up at Yuzuru's face, but he never held eye contact.

"Aha.. sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I suppose I can be a bit intense sometimes." Yuzuru said as he let go of Mayoi's hands, aware that he was close to overstepping Mayoi's comfort boundaries regarding physical touch.

Mayoi shook his head this time, hugging his hands to his chest. "You didn't scare me...! I was simply... shocked. You're so kind to me... you seem unbothered by me..." as he spoke, he started to smile slightly and blush, a clear sign that his mind was wandering.

Before Yuzuru could respond again, his phone buzzed from a message from Hold-Hands. He recognized the specific notification he had set for Tori.

"Ah.. my apologies, Mayoi-san..." Yuzuru said as he pulled out his phone, viewing the message sent.

Tori had asked (demanded) Yuzuru to come to him, as fine was going to do idol work and he wanted Yuzuru to do his hair.

"I've been summoned. I must take my leave. Again, thank you. I enjoyed our time together." he grinned at Mayoi, giving a small and polite bow.

Mayoi made a squeak of surprise from the gesture and rushed to say that such actions weren't needed, but Yuzuru simply placed one finger against the others lips.

It was a short moment of intense eye contact and odd levels of intimacy, but as soon as it started it ended.

Yuzuru and Mayoi gave their own final goodbyes, and he listened to Mayoi scuttle away, before his footsteps went silent. He was impressed by his ability to hide his presence.

The entire walk to his dorm was a pleasant one, with his thoughts being full of a certain purple-haired idol.

#yuzuru fushimi #fushimi yuzuru #fanfiction #ensemble stars #ensemble stars!!#enstars #fanfic #mayoi ayase #ayase mayoi #yuzumayo #mayoyuzu #has anyone else even heard of this ship #it's cute #butler and ghost

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ascendthisday · 2 years

Text

BEAUTIFUL, DANGEROUS.

gif by veilofmegiddo

Paring(s): Slash | Saul Hudson/Fergie Duhamel

Word Count: 2,200~

Info: Extremely Dubious Consent, Roofies, Murder, Stalking, Obsession, Knife Play, Almost Necrophilia, Grinding, Blood Kink, Stabbing, Knife Play

Summary: Slash was fucked up, no doubt about it. The world wobbled as he followed around some chick he had just met at the bar. She was blonde in itty bitty shorts that couldn't possibly be legal, God, she was perfect.

Authors Note: THIS IS DIRTY AND NASTY AND GROOOOSSSS!!!!! Slash literally dies in it lmfao so read at your own risk and probably watch the music video beforehand <3 happy reading!

Slash was fucked up, no doubt about it. The world wobbled as he followed around some chick he had met at the bar. She was blonde with her cleavage out and shorts that couldn't possibly be legal, she was absolutely perfect. Her name- Farley? Frankie? Something with an F. This girl and her shiny studded leather jacket twirled in the Sunset Strip's thousands of blinding lights. He hadn't even drank that much, just a little bit of whiskey he had sipped on while chatting up some chicks. It was weird because he couldn't quite remember anything he had done in the last fifteen minutes.

Suddenly, he was in a car. When the hell had she called a cab? He stared as she stripped off her studs. On her arm sat the exact same tattoo as him, twins.

"Wha- That's my lady- Slash, mine." He slurred, desperately motioning at his arm. It was kind of cute in a fucked up way. "I know, baby. D'ya like it?" Fergie cooed as she ran her fingers along the slightly raised skin. Technically, she wasn't even supposed to be wearing it as loudly and proudly as she was, she had only gotten it done yesterday! But, what is life worth if you don't take any risks? Slash hadn't quite had the common sense to buckle his seatbelt, so with every turn, he slid a little harder into her hip. "Mm, wait til we get to the hotel, big boy." Fergie purred every single time and patted his thick leather clad thigh.

The car skittered to a stop in front of the grubby motel she had been camping out in. "Alright c'mon, let's go." She grinned, tugging his big frame out of the car. Slash may have been a short guy, but god was he bulky! He had stayed in his fair share of slimeball motels, but even in his drugged state, he could tell this place was pure grime. They must have looked insane with the six inches of height between them and the clear difference in sobriety.

Fergie skipped her way through the relatively empty parking lot. Slash woozily giggled while still desperately clinging to the smaller woman. Eventually, they paused at a door "M'kay, just a warning, it's a little messy in here." Fergie giggled as she fished her key out of her bra. She finally pulled it out and began to fight with the lock, brazenly missing the small slot a few times. Slash tiredly wrapped himself around her, smiling into her hair. He sure as hell didn't know this woman, couldn't quite remember her name, but he liked her weird ass.

Speaking of asses, his hands trailed down to grope at her ass as she unlocked the door. Fergie giggled. Immediately, a pungent stench fled the air before him. He couldn't see much in the dimly lit room beneath his tinted sunglasses, but he could make out vague piles of something, trash, he assumed. It was disgusting, but it wasn't the worst he had seen. Hell, if the pussy was good enough, he didn't quite care about the mess!

As he let the small woman lead him inside the room, he was suddenly more aware of the true filth that was her motel. Cockroaches crawled to and fro in heaps of rotten styrofoam takeout containers. Water bottles, beer cans, and other such containers laid in a thick coat upon the grimy carpet, spilling the remaining liquid in thin in small round stains. It was almost cartoonish in the way that he could practically see the green stink clouds sliding off of the heaps of garbage. Flies twirled around the room, buzzing through every piece of trash in the small space. Maybe Slash's drugged brain had just exaggerated it, but the room felt so violently messy that he couldn't have imagined a human living there.

They crunched their way through the room until the odd pair reached the bed.

"Holy shit." Slash grumbled, staring in the collage above her headboard. It was him, all him. Just Slash. No Axl, Steven, Duff- just Slash. The rundown T.V. They had passed a few steps prior had also had a video of him playing upon its worn screen, but he had shrugged it off for the most part. This could not be shrugged off. This was scary! She was on him before his brain could entirely process the bulk of obsession before him. Despite being significantly smaller than him, Fergie managed to shove him over with ease. He grunted upon impact, but stayed silent. Once again, he could handle crazy if the pussy was good enough.

"Beautiful." Slash murmured under his breath as she began to straddle him. "Dangerous." She grinned, throwing back her mop of blonde curls. The statement was confusing, to say the least. He didn't understand what she meant until he was cuffed to the bed frame. Somehow, she had managed to pull his hands above his head without him noticing and weave the steel around his wrist and through the bedframe. He couldn't even imagine where she had gotten the initial cuffs! While very much dazed, Slash tried to awkwardly fight the restraints, but she had already caught his other wrist in the round metal before he could writhe around too hard. "The- What? Fuck." He hissed, lazily tossing his head from side to side.

The top hat upon his head slid off with his wriggling, although he was still rather sluggish. Fergie grinned at him as she began to swivel her hips upon his groin. He groaned. Curious hands lightly pulled the hat off of the pillow above him, it was almost teasing in the way she playfully paced it upon her head. Even in the dim artificial lighting, he could see the metal detailing shimmer above him.

Acrobatically, Fergie twirled herself around on his midsection. swinging her legs over him and slotting them back around his waist so fast he couldn't quite fathom that she had even moved. Her tiny shorts rode up her hips even higher. They slid up so high, Slash was sure he could almost make out the shape of her pussy. It was weird, but not inherently bad. The younger woman slid her small body down his worn leather pants. He could feel the heat radiate off of her body, even through the several layers of thick fabric between them. Somehow, through his distraction, he ended up with his legs also bound. How the hell was she doing this?

She flipped around on him once more, now facing him. Is this what it felt like to be a pommel horse? Probably! She began to roll her hips once more, basically dry humping him. Slash groaned beneath her, flexing his fingers. It was frustrating, this was frustrating, but he held back his voice. Instead, he let soft groans float from between his lips.

"Saul," She sing-songed, shaking her breasts in front of his face. "mm, don't you wanna touch me?" The older man grunted and dug his nails into his palms. It wasn't a secret that he was painfully hard, but Fergie continued to play innocent. "Did- I, Did I do that?" He slurred, bucking his head toward her breasts. Grinning, she swept her finger along the brim of his hat, which was still sat upon her head, and began to slide her fingers down to the large 'SLASH' tattooed across her left breast. "This?" She questioned as she traced the large black letters. "No, baby, this was a pipe dream. I couldn't have ever imagined you below me, not when I got it." He mumbled something incoherent in response.

She slid her hand into her bra and pulled out a thin, shiny piece of black plastic. He was suddenly much more aware when she fiddled with the plastic and a sharp piece of metal popped out. "A knife- What? What the fuck!" He shouted- or, attempted to shout, but it came out more so as his normal speaking voice. "Don't play scared, baby, I know you're a fucking pervert." The sly woman above him bit her lip as she inched the metal closer to his tattooed stomach. Just above the graffitied 'CASH', she began a soft red line. It didn't hurt, the knife was sharp enough that it didn't cause pain, more so discomfort. Despite that, he flexed his abdominal muscles away from the cool sliver.

"Fuck- shit. The hell is wrong with you?" He cursed as she slid the blade into him, ever so slightly deeper. He fought with the restraints upon his wrists, but his aggressive flailing didn't do much. She drew that line all the way down past his navel and just to the top of his thick belt. When she passed his bellybutton with the knife, she made a point to clink the metal against the piercing. Maroon bubbled from the incision and began to slide down his barrel chest. Fergie folded her slender frame over him and licked up every single droplet of blood that smeared down his body. "Sweet." She grinned with her blood rimmed lips.

Stretching out the skin on his right hip as if she was tattooing him, polar opposite to the top hatted cat, she began to carve out a large 'F' on his skin. He hissed and tossed his head around in his head of big black curls, tangling them to his head. The sunglasses he had dawned for the night uncomfortably poked at the bridge of his nose, the plastic awkwardly poking at his skin. Though, it was hard to focus on the small uncomfortable things when you're being sculpted away like a statue. Pained whimpers slid out of his mouth with ease. Fergie clamped her bottom lip between her teeth with focus. "'F', for Fergie. You're all mine now, baby." She grinned and swept her thumb along the streaming blood.

Her slightly rust stained fingers tenderly plucked off his sunglasses, unveiling the soft pink oval indentations left on either side of his bridge. It showed off both his pink scleras and the sloppy tears that trailed down the sides of them. Suddenly, the two of them were much more aware of the shivering sobs that wracked through his thick chest. He was terrified. "Shh, baby. It's okay. I've got ya." She cooed, sliding her blood dripped fingers along his wet cheekbones. He flinched away from her touch initially but eventually found himself leaning into her fingertips.

Fergie smiled a sincere grin at him and gave two soft paps to his cheek. He tried to smile back, but it never quite reached his lips. Slash had experienced some kinky sex, but this was scary. Even when he was drugged out if his mind he could admit this was fucking weird.

Fergie took her hand, knife still firmly fisted between her knuckles, and raised it above her head. Her palms began to perspire against the shiny plastic. This was the endgame. No more fun, no more wolf V. rabbit. This is where it all ended. She wrapped her other hand around the one initially holding the knife and slammed them down. It was as if time slowed for Slash harder than it already had, he could feel the sickening fear slide through his bones the moment he saw the knife near his head. By the time he could open his lips to scream, she had already made contact.

The crunch his skull made as the metal punctured it was sickening. For good measure, she raised her hands up over her head a few more times and slammed the blade back into his gorgeous, gorgeous face again and again. His blood splattered upon her skin with every strike she made. His body twitched under her, slowing down as his life slipped away under her palms. She could feel the warm piss stain at the crotch of his pants as his bladder gave away at its final release. It wasn't- shouldn't have been sexy, to feel his heartbeat pause under her palm as she pressed it to his left breast. But it was.

Blood steadily oozed away from the several gashes in his forehead, staining her already stained pillows. Fergie swept two of her fingers along the crimson and began to dance them across her body. She drew out a gorey line from the start of her jawline, through the valley of her breasts, and down to the hem of her shorts. Small chunks of brain matter occasionally disturbed her grisly drawings, but she couldn't find the time to care. He could be hers, forever. Isn't that just perfect?

A grin pecked at the sides of her mouth as she bent over and placed a sloppy kiss to his warm mouth. He'd get cold eventually, sure, but for now, he was just right. Twirling his curls between her fingers, she slid her tongue across his bottom lip. A makeout session with a corpse, the corpse of mega rocker Slash, was a little weird. She'd admit that, but weird was good.

A thick iron stench floated around the room, piling up atop of the already mildew, mold, and other grime that made the motel stink. Fergie basked in it. She adjusted her body to the point where she was laying atop him, head resting upon his chest. Fergie's eyes fluttered closed as she began to doze off. Before she passed out, she pulled her hair away from the thick puddles of blood that had accumulated on the mattress. Who wanted a blood dye job?

She had fulfilled that exact promise she had made him earlier on in the night. She was infact beautiful, but so very dangerous.

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marauderswhore4 · 2 years

Text

Flower Crown

-Jegulus

Warnings: Fluff, that's about it

Regulus lounged on the loveseat, gangly limbs sprawled over the arm of the dark red seat. In his hands he held the newest muggle novel Addie had lent him. He smirked at the thought of his parents seeing him reading this supposed filth. 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', he couldn't wait to read this.

He'd not long flipped the first page when he felt a tentative tap on his shoulder. It made him flinch, ever so slightly, but he relaxed upon seeing James's bright hazel eyes shining at him.

"Oh, hey, Jamie." He said, endlessly glad to see James and not Barty or even Severus. His gaze dropped to James's slightly shaking hands holding a delicately made flower crown of blue-grey petals and vibrant green leaves. "What's that?" He asked with a smile.

"Oh, right, I made it for you." James replied nervously. "Reminded me of your eyes."

Regulus could've melted on the spot. "It looks lovely, James, thank you." He gratefully took the crown from James's outstretched hands and nestled it into his own wild curls. He then shuffled on the sofa to make space for his boyfriend. "Come on, I want cuddles."

James's face lit up and he eagerly climbed onto the seat, burying himself into Regulus's chest. His arms looped around the younger boy's waist and Regulus rested his own hands on the small of James's back. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, but both boys found themselves being lulled to sleep by eachother's warmth.

"Ssh, you'll wake them!"

"But I have to get a photo, Wormy!" "They're so cute."

"What? Absolutely not."

"You're such a spoilsport, Marls, they look so happy."

"You would think so. I'm surprised you're not jealous of Reg, Lily."

"Sirius, get that camera away from them now!"

"But Moons-"

"Shut up." Regulus sighed, opening his eyes to see Remus hauling Sirius back, a red-faced Lily and Marlene scowling. Peter squeaked and hurried up to the dorms.

"Sorry, Reg." Sirius said, pausing before adding, "Can I please take a photo?" He barely had time to duck Regulus's slap.

James stirred, groaning and tightening his grip around Regulus's waist. He buried his head further into the younger boy's chest - if that were even possible anymore. Regulus couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"How can you not call that cute?" Lily elbowed Marlene, cheeks still crimson.

"I just don't get romance." Marlene huffed, eyes turning glossy and hands gripping at her arms so violently that they might snap.

"Leave her be, Lils." Remus sighed, giving Marlene a knowing look. What didn't that boy know?

"Hah! Got it!" Sirius exclaimed, holding his camera in delight. Remus groaned simultaneously with Regulus.

Author's notes:

Please accept this as an apology drabble because I have had no motivation recently ♡

This is also me coming out as a Jegulus shipper because they are sO cute

Also threw in some ace/aro Marlene because whilst I love Dorlene, I love ace/aro!Marlene (sorry!!!)

Requests are open, on my page there are my rules ♡

Any feedback is greatly appreciated!!

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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