#give it to us raw and wriggling

[makoodles]

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

#asks #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod smut #drabble

[charliemwrites]

Hybrid AU with Ragdoll!Reader and Siberian-mix!Konig

Reader is a rescued cat hybrid that Laswell's sister in law has been taking care of for the last 3 months. When she meets this little ragdoll kitty, so bright and friendly and curious, she immediately thinks of the 141. Hybrids have a lot uses in the government. Sometimes combative, sometimes therapeutic. The 141 could use a companion animal, given the close call Soap recently had and the general trauma the whole squad has.

With the kitty's permission and cooperation, they assess her as a possible therapy placement. She tests so well and so high that Laswell (again, with consent) immediately starts paperwork to place her with the 141 before even bringing it up to Price.

He's a bit skeptical at first. Even without being a combat hybrid, their jobs are high stress, very dangerous, and not very stable. But Laswell convinces him to at least meet Ragdoll.

They do introductions at the sister-in-law's house, where the kitty will be most comfortable. Ragdoll takes one sniff of him and starts purring like a little engine. He's visibly surprised, and Laswell can barely hold back her grin as the kitty climbs into his lap. They spend the rest of the afternoon discussing arrangements while his new hybrid naps because obviously he can't say no now.

Price becomes her primary handler. They move her to his barrack and give her a week to settle in, but she's not a skittish thing by any means. Wants to follow him everywhere, curls up in his bed, meows sadly at the door when he leaves her alone. It becomes clear very quickly that the usual introduction manuals are too slow for her.

Kitty meets Kyle next. Again, instant purrs. She presses her cheek into his palms, then wriggles her way closer to brush up against his cheek. Lets out a little "mrrp!" when he stutters out a pleasantly surprised, "hello there." She nibbles at the brim of his hat and grins when he gently redirects her, chirping at this fun new friend.

Two for two, Price and Kyle decide to introduce her to Simon and Johnny. They let her explore the common room first, get comfortable, and then call the other two in. Kitty watches from behind Price as Simon and Johnny enter.

Johnny is a dog hybrid with Simon as his primary handler. Price has faith that his sergeant will behave well with the new kitty, but he's not sure of what her reaction will be. Johnny's obviously, visibly excited, tail wagging, but Simon gets him to sit and wait while she makes the first move.

It takes absolutely no time at all for her to pad out from behind Price and approach. Simon goes first, offering a hand. But she barely even sniffs him before cuddling up to him, pawing curiously at his mask. He lets her, clicking his tongue when she dislodges it a bit, but then he gently nudges her towards Johnny.

His ears are perked forwards, tail still swishing. Kitty's ears are twitching, eyes big and curious. But her tail is up and curved curiously, not even a little fluffed. She gets in real close to his face, sniffs, then bumps her forehead against his chin. Which is when he loses patience and licks a big stripe up her cheek. She mews indignantly, ears going airplane mode, but thankfully doesn't swat at him.

It literally couldn't go better. She's a perfect fit.

Over the next few months she settles in with them happily, an absolute dream of a hybrid. Not very verbal, at least through human speech, but perfectly communicative and incredibly friendly.

She chirps whenever one of the 141 enters a room, has a different tone for each of them. Purrs if one of them so much as looks at her, all slow blinks and little smiles. Chitters when she sees them running outside through the windows.

Even grooming is relatively easy. She lets them brush out her floofy tail without much fuss, only trying to retreat if they catch a tangle. Readily gives up her hands to trim her claws. Even opens her mouth for them to brush off her fangs after raw meals.

She curls up with Simon on bad days, warm and purring, breathing little puffs of air against his collarbone. Lounges with Kyle after hard missions, nuzzling against him while he pets her soft ears. She spends hours upon hours in Price's office, curled up on his lap while he does paperwork or talks over the phone, kneading biscuits into his stomach.

Her friendship with Johnny is maybe the most surprising. They play wrestle just about every night, rolling around on the rough carpets in the common room and nipping at each others ears. She'll pounce on him, little teeth flashing, but almost always get bodied by his larger stature. The others will let them play until one of them - usually Johnny - gets too excited and makes the other yelp. At that point, Price or Simon will usually scoop one of the hybrids up and tsk at them for getting rough.

She's the 141's precious kitty, sweet and friendly and outgoing. The whole base knows her, though she's never far from one of her boys. And they know what it means if Ragdoll doesn't like someone.

It's rare, which is why it raises neon red flags. The first time is a new recruit that reaches to pet her without introducing himself first. She twists around on him, but usually even that would be recoverable. Except when he keeps trying to touch her, she gets a whiff of him and hisses, scrambling away.

The guy doesn't last long.

It happens again a few weeks later with a nurse meant to be giving her checkup. She gets low to the table, tail poofing up, and growls low in her throat. When the nurse rolls her eyes and tells Price to just hold his hybrid still so they can get things over with, he knows instantly that his little ragdoll was right to react that way.

With that in mind, it's no surprise that no one trusts Philip Graves when he visits their base and she takes an instant dislike to him. He introduces himself correctly, but she still hard reverses away from him, nose scrunched up. Ears back, tail fluffing up, she slips behind Price and glares from around his arm.

Problem is, Graves is used to dog hybrids. He's great with them. Kitties... not so much, even with a manual. Ends his week at the base with a couple of proper bite marks and an itchy scratch on his hand.

Given her reaction, Simon and Johnny aren't too shocked when he betrays them in Las Almas.

When a team from KorTac is scheduled for a joint assignment, the 141 is bracing for a similar reaction. Especially because they have their own cat hybrid - some big mixed breed.

Kyle even suggests keeping Ragdoll inside for initial introductions on the tarmac, but they all know that's not actually viable. Their kitty wouldn't talk to them for the rest of the day if they left her out like that.

So Price double checks that her little bell-collar is on and brings her out to meet the KorTac team.

Their cat hybrid is even bigger than expected - no wonder he's a combat placement despite being a domestic breed. He keeps his face hidden behind a big black hood with cutouts for his ears, fluffy tail slightly tangled-looking.

Price hasn't even finished introductions with the KorTac team when she makes a rolling little chur noise, bright and curious. The bigger hybrid zeros in on her instantly, ears flicking. She pads out from behind the captain and slips away before he can catch her. Any calls for her to come back are fully ignored.

She trots right up to the Austrian and mrrps again, pausing mid-step, waiting for a response. The other hybrid doesn't respond - at least he doesn't seem to.

"Sorry, kitten, but he doesn't really do the cat noises," Declan tries to tell her. But he's also ignored, and no sooner has he spoken than she's getting into the other cat's space, continuously making little "brr" noises.

And then to everyone's shock, he's bending down to greet her in return, nuzzling her cheek and forehead through the hood. She starts to purr, pressing up close, tail swishing lazily. A noise erupts from him, deep and rough, rattling in his chest. Johnny jumps and snatches at her shirt, dragging her back to the safety of their team.

She mewls sadly, arms extended to reach for him.

"He's growling, Doll," Johnny corrects, arms curling around her middle. For the first time ever she starts to wriggle. "He's too big for you to mess with."

"I... wasn't growling," the Austrian pipes up. "I apologizes if I caused alarm."

Johnny shoots him an incredulous look.

"Then what was that?" Kyle asks, confused.

"I don't... often purr."

Price takes one look at their still-wiggly kitty and the Austrian leaning towards her, as if wanting to follow, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Shit."

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #reader fic #fanfiction #hybrid au #ragdoll!reader #siberian-mix!Konig #konig #konig cod #konig x reader

[bruhstories]

i see your inexperienced, virgin choso and i raise you best friend fuckboy choso (you just don't know about it)

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚

He's so dorky it's ridiculous. Clueless, innocent — "Y/N, what's this?" Choso picks up your bullet vibrator from under your pillow, and your cheeks burn, snatching it away from him. "Mind your own business, edgelord!"

And he somehow always leads you into conversations that are just so embarrassing.

"I raw-dogged that donut today."

"That's not- never mind."

"Is that not the correct term?"

No, Choso is too pure, you think. Too sweet, too nice, too naive to be doing anything nefarious behind your back, right? Every time he goes on a date, you make sure to encourage him, to fix his outfit and hair, to tell him to use protection because he's just so gullible!!

Until one day, when you're both drunk and he just needs his best friend's help. He just doesn't know how to kiss girls, how to touch them, how to make them feel good. And you're such a good friend, you offer to help, of course!

That's how you end up with Choso's cock deep inside your cunt, his fingers pinching your nipples, and his mouth hot and wet against your skin. He fucks you, hard and fast, and you're too far gone to realise you've been played.

"H-harder!" You wriggle and whimper under him, pushing your ass up, bucking your hips against his.

Choso delivers, of course. He would be a horrible friend if he didn't. Running his fingers through your hair then yanking it, he pushes deeper, the tip of his cock brushing past your cervix and your legs give in.

"So tight-" He kisses your shoulder, his free hand sliding between your thighs to lazily rub your clit.

"Fuckfuckfuck- I'm cumming! Choso, fuck!" You babble, knees weak and your entire body exhausted.

He's quick to finish, not wanting his best friend to pass out because he's just incredibly caring, and he definitely didn't lie to your face your entire friendship. A few more thrusts, and he's done, filling your sore cunt with his cum.

But Choso's still your best friend, and he makes sure to clean you up and hold you in his arms while you watch a movie. It's a routine you can get used to.

#choso kamo #jjk #jjk choso #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader smut #choso smut #kamo choso

[1-800-luvmail]

[ read part one w/ price here ! ]

reader who would rather skydive without a parachute than have their self sufficiency questioned vs cod men [ 2 / ? ]

könig assumed that when you invited him to bake with you, it was going to be a cute little activity for the two of you to do. a simple afternoon in your kitchen, making some baked goods to enjoy later.

he could not be more fucking wrong. you bake up a storm, leaving trails of flour, baking soda, sugar and whatever other substances you've used in your wake. you also seem to be eyeballing every single measurement. it's chaos. he's never seen a more disorganized process of making red velvet cupcakes.

the worst part is, könig can't seem to understand why he's even there.

"hey can you pass me th— nevermind, i got it." you say, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a bag of chocolate chips which was just a little too high. he's just a whole 6'10 ft of useless, standing in your kitchen, and getting in the way.

so instead of waiting for instructions, he choses to make himself helpful by attempting to clean as you bake. it works smoothly for the most part. he wipes up any milk you've spilt on the counter, places a batter covered spoon in the sink to be washed later (not before taking a little taste of course... and mess be damned, you're good at baking even if the sample he got was raw), and moves the bowls you don't quite need yet out of the way.

everything is going fine. you're talking to him like this is the most calming activity on earth and he's replying with little hums of acknowledgement and nods as he swiftly tries to get a little more batter from the whisk you've just stopped using.

"hey— no. you're gonna get sick. there's raw egg in there." you chide, just as he's about to sneak a lick. he wonders how you even noticed, considering you seem to be using 110% of your concentration on filling up the cupcake liners with just enough batter for each cupcake to be roughly the same size, which happens to be the only semblance of consistency you've had this entire baking session.

"i'm not going to die because of a little batter." he counters, amused by your concern. he can't help but chuckle.

you snort, rolling your eyes. "famous last words of an impatient man."

eventually, your baking frenzy subsides. the red velvet cupcakes are cooled after being pulled fresh out of the oven, you've made an insanely good homemade cream cheese icing to go on top (which you begrudgingly allow him one taste of. one.), and it's time to decorate. you've piped on most of the icing already, but the unsatisfied stare you give your baked goods allows him to piece together it isn't over yet.

"i think these need sprinkles." you murmur after a moment. your eyes glance around and eventually land on possibly the highest shelf in the kitchen. where the sprinkles just so happen to be. he tries to supress laughter when he sees the disbelief on your face. "motherfu—"

"i will get it." könig interrupts, stepping towards the shelf. you step in front of him, blocking him from getting there, hauling a chair with you.

"nope. won't need to. 'm innovative." he watches you set up the chair and get ready to climb up— only to gently grab your forearm and tug you back.

"famous last words of a stupid person." he scoffs, echoing your words from earlier.

you shoot him an exasperated look as you wriggle out of his grasp.

"c'mon, i do this like, what— all the time? hasn't killed me yet." you say, pointing at the shelf. "it's not that high. i'll just climb up to reach it."

"or you could swallow your pride and allow me to get it."

"and what fun would that be?"

he sighs at your response, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he mutters something to himself. probably in german. not like you could hear. you were too busy staring up at the shelf and getting the chair set up.

on one hand, könig wants to help to prevent you from potentially falling and eating shit, but on the other, he knows you well enough to understand there's no stopping you. so instead, he settles for a compromise.

könig moves the chair out of the way.

"i said, i'm getting it by myself. i kinda need the chair for that." you huff, glancing back at him, only to watch as he lowers himself, arms wrapping around your legs. "hey wh—"

before you can process, you're hoisted up into the air with a startling ease.

"alright," he isn't even trying to hide his smirk as he lifts you up, high enough to reach the shelf, "you can get it."

#val's 💭 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod warzone #call of duty #könig #könig x reader #he'll literally b ur personal ladder idk what to say #he's strong. and tall. might as well make the most out of it #i've actually had severe könig brainrot and honestly as someone who dgaf abt this man usually itz a welcome change #hes such a kyutie :33

[dollfacefantasy]

daddy kink with chris and you’re overstimulated and crying and he kisses your hair and tells you it’s okay… like, he acts like he’s helping but also doesn’t slow down at all… he started going harder once he saw you crying…

pairing: chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, overstimulation, dacryphilia

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ermmmm this is pure smut but school has me too tired to do a full fic and i wanted to make a picture so yeah hehe. thank you for this ask, it's right up my alley. i hope you like :) as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

Today was a bad day for Chris. Or at least it had been until he got home and found you, laying in bed without a care in the world. He tried to be normal about it at first, he really did. He nodded a hello as he walked through the bedroom and settled the dust from his day. He went through the motions, breathing deeper to try and chill out. But as he looked at you, the more the urge built within him to get rid of some of that tension, pump it all deep inside of you. He couldn’t help it. He was just so overwhelmed, and he needed his little stress reliever to help him out.

He climbs on the bed and slots himself next to you. His lips find your neck immediately. You can feel the raw need in his movements. A giggle bubbles from your lips as part of his facial hair scratches against your neck. Poor baby, clueless as to what was in store for you. Your ear meets your shoulder to give him some more room on your throat, and he doesn’t let it go to waste. Nipping at your skin, tongue laving over the small love bites he litters you with. You moan and shift slightly as the tingling from your neck drips down your spine to the pit of your belly.

“Chris…” you whimper. 

He doesn’t remove his mouth from you though. Amateur mistake. He was obviously in a mood. Your eyes flutter as his large hand squeezes your waist.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself.

A sharp breath fans across your neck as he briefly disconnects. “What is it, baby? Feeling needy too?” he asks before kissing your throat a bit more.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, sinking down on the bed more.

He chuckles against your throat, one of his hands pulling on your thigh to spread your legs. His fingers only tease your inner thigh for now. They don’t coast across the part of you that aches for him.

“So easy, precious,” he breathes before scooting down.

He positions himself between your legs and tugs your shorts down quickly. After they’re discarded, he presses his lips to the skin the pads of his fingers had just been smoothing over. His breath hitches at the soft, plush warmth of your flesh. You bite your lip and merely watch him close in. He can feel your gaze, and it only serves to make his semi-hard cock even stiffer.

Looping his arms over your thighs, he pulls you even closer. Your head squishes on a couple pillows as he buries his face between your legs against your clothed cunt. He inhales so deep that it’s audible. So is the groan he lets out after. You feel his lips against the fabric of your panties before he licks the cloth too. The pleasure was dulled by the barrier, but it still got you going seeing how needy he was.

He drags his nose against the garment to take in more of your scent before using his mouth again on your covered pussy. More arousal collected beneath as you watched him go at it. With a small impatient wriggle of your hips, you whine in anticipation.

“Just a second, honey. Wanna enjoy this,” he grumbles. 

It honestly felt like he was trying to suffocate himself between your thighs. That’s even more true once he finally yanks your panties off. He’s right back to what he was doing, smothering himself with you. Your head falls back as he laps at your folds, grunting at the taste of your slick on your tongue. He sucks on your clit while flicking his tongue against it, making your arms flail while you cry out for him.

Your heels dig into his back while you whimper and writhe. He holds you in place and devours you. You can still hear those sharp breaths coming from him, each one is calculated since he seems insistent on not coming up for air.

This wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Chris was always a pretty dedicated lover for you. He never teased too much, but usually he would mumble a few things here and there. Not now though. It seemed he was lost in a haze of lust, eating you out for his own reasons rather than your pleasure.

You’re sure of this when you reach your first high. You shriek and jerk, legs trembling and only secured by his strong arms. Gasping, your fingers claw at the blankets on the bed. Despite all this though, he doesn’t stop when you should be coming down.

“Daddy,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t even verbalize that it’s too much. A string of whines leaves you instead, and your words come out jumbled. Your legs pointlessly kick as he continues licking up your cunt.

“It’s ok, dolly. Daddy just needs some more time with this pretty pussy,” he grunts, “It’s gonna feel good, ok?”

You whimper again as you nod, barely stuttering out an “ok” before he dives back in. He makes out with it, taking in all of you that he can. Flattening his tongue and dragging it over your sore clit, he sends shocks through your body. You feel like static on a broken tv, vibrating as he works you closer to the edge again.

The sheets twist and crumple underneath you from the way he has you squirming and shifting around. Your legs go taut as you crash through release for a second time. It doesn’t take as long since you were so sensitive from having just cum. You squeak this time, quieter than the last. Your limbs shudder with more intensity though, and your eyes roll back.

And he still keeps going. You move your legs more this time, to which he responds by tightening his grip. Breathy whines continuously tumble from your lips. Your mind is melting down into a puddle. You can’t find the words to protest this time, so you don’t. That’s fine with him. He continues on, chin completely coated with your slick at this point.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to restrain the pathetic noises coming from you. The way he went all in, you’d think you were the best thing he ever tasted. He’s not even rocking his hips into the mattress. All his focus is on you, the way he maneuvers his mouth on you. It’s not long until you’re cumming for the third time.

He’s still not showing any signs of letting up, so you will yourself to intervene.

“Chris!” you yelp without thinking, your hips bucking in time with your plea.

“Who?” he growls without looking up.

“Daddy… I can’t,” you whine, correcting yourself for the second time tonight.

“Oh, I know you can, sweetheart,” he says before a lewd noise sounds through the room as he latches back onto your clit.

You nearly shout at the sensation, shaking your head wildly. Your voice is growing more whiny, and your head is sinking into that state where everything is soft and syrupy, like a waking world of dreams.

“Mm-mm, I- I need a break. It- mmph- it’s too much,” you whimper and squirm around harder.

He digs his fingers in, set on keeping you where you are. He actually does take a break to look up at you. His eyes connect with your own.

“Does it feel bad, princess?” he asks.

You stumble through your thoughts to try to think of how to articulate yourself. “No…” you say slowly, “It…”

During your pause, he interjects. “So it feels good, yeah?” he asks. He’s condescending for sure, just the way you like him to be.

“Well yeah. But it’s too much,” you say, lip puffing out into an automatic pout.

He chuckles and shakes his head, lowering himself to press a few tender kisses to your pulsing bundle of nerves. “Just one for me, baby. Daddy just wants to play with his favorite girl after a long day,” he says before his tongue returns to your folds.

Your head falls back again as your mind spins with the heat swirling inside you. One more. You could take one more. But if it was anymore than that, you were pretty sure you’d go numb.

You were already going a little dumb. Whiny, squirmy, no thoughts inside your head except for what was happening in the moment. Your body was moving on instinct, you didn’t have much control at this point.

He does give you the tiniest break as he fucks his tongue into you rather than attacking your clit. It’s still stoking the flames of sensitivity, but the pleasure is much more muted. But as soon as you think to be relieved about this, his mouth is all over you, and that burning sense of overstimulation is back.

Your thighs lock around his head. You would be concerned about cutting off his air flow, but it seemed like that was his goal anyways. Your shirt was clinging to your form, highlighting how your breasts heaved and puffed up and down with each gasp.

It feels like a never ending fuse, but finally, you hit that “one more” he wanted. You gush all over his face yet again. Ecstasy stabs through you. A long moan erupts from you before devolving into a collection of unintelligible mumbles.

He chuckles into you and gives a couple more licks before he actually pulls off. You had started to wonder if he ever actually would.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Such a sweet baby, always doing what daddy asks.”

You lazily nod, dumb little smile gracing your features. He pets your head, a few soft strokes before getting up to undress himself. You’re too out of it to really pay much attention to that though.

Your little break is over just as quick as it began. He climbs on top of you again, peppering your face and neck with kisses.

“Wanna see these pretty tits bounce while I’m inside,” he murmurs as he peels your shirt off of you. He moves your limbs like a doll’s to rid you of your top. You’re limp, pliable, simply moving where he guides you.

Once you’re fully nude beneath him, he lines himself up. Swiping his tip through your soaked center, he doesn’t waste much time teasing. He slides in groaning as he sinks into your heat, savoring each inch of your wet embrace.

“She’s been missing her daddy,” he mutters, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You give another weak nod as a response. He starts rocking, slow at first, easing into a rhythm. You’re so tender though, it doesn’t feel as slow. You whimper with each of his movements. Every poke within you feels like another jab to your already overwhelmed center.

You call out for him, using it as a reprieve from the overwhelming sensations. His cock is heavy and thick just like every other part of him. You can feel that simply from the way it stretches you out and pulsates between your walls.

Soon enough he finds a pace he likes. It’s quick, but he’s not jack-hammering. He’s stroking you deep for sure, head of his cock kissing your cervix and prodding against all your other spots that send jolts of pleasure through your body. 

You were so shaky, trying your best to cling onto Chris for some sense of stability. Your arms loop around his neck, legs weakly attached to his hips. The air around you feels heavy as if it’s pressing you further into the mattress, aiding him in keeping you trapped beneath his large form.You can’t contain the array of sounds flowing from you. Your mind is too fucked out and hazy to worry about self-restraint.

“Good girl, baby. Keep making all those cute little noises. Let me hear how much you need it,” he mumbles into your ear between pants. Some sloppy kisses land on your temple before he seems to start working his hips even harder than before.

You’re taut like a rubber band about to snap, thrumming with the slightest touch. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to cope with the all consuming pleasure inside you. It’s like you can barely breathe. All you have right now is Chris. Nothing else is registering.

You’re babbling, trying to show some of how you’re feeling, but it’s all unintelligible. He can really only make out “daddy” and a few “I love yous.” Everything else is as muddled as the thoughts in your head.

He does understand when you choke out “daddy need to cum.” And like the good guy he is, he indulges you. He speed up more, slamming his hips against you with brutal force. The headboard is beating against the wall, and your body rocks in time from the momentum.

Continuing to kiss and suck on your throat, he chuckles. “Already came… what? Four times? And you still want more. You’re getting so spoiled, princess,” he teases.

You can’t really think of a defense in this state. Instead, you weakly shake your head and whimper “‘m not spoiled.”

He laughs louder and thrusts harder. “I’ll have to be careful with you. Can’t have you turning into a total brat on me,” he says.

Before you can protest this slander, he thrusts extra hard and knocks you over the edge. You practically scream. Your body locks up, and you convulse involuntarily. Tears build up in your eyes. When you open them, they’re glossy. Droplets already threaten to spill over the waterline.

He’s still slamming his cock in and out. You’re stretched thin. You feel like you’re gonna pass out at this point. The euphoria must be constricting your lungs or something. You start crying. Not just little teardrops rolling down your cheeks. No. Actual cries begin bursting from you, and it isn’t long before they morph into sobs. Tears do flow, your eyes and cheeks feel perpetually wet. A single blink unleashes more every time.

And once he hears that first cry, all teasing is gone from Chris’s demeanor. Though, it’s not replaced by concern. Sure, he feels a twinge of sympathy scratching at his heart, but it’s not the dominant emotion running through him.

Your crying just… does something to him. Something primal he can’t control. Something primitive he forgets exists until he has you beneath him like this. Those round cheeks streaked with tears, face twisted up in desperation, glossy eyes looking at him with complete reverence. It takes everything not to blow his load right when he sees it. It’s above him the way his hips instinctively go harder. He was basically jack-hammering now like his intention was to ruin you.

But you’re still his baby. He kisses your cheek, tasting the faintest hint of salt as your tears meet his lips. His hand that’s not supporting him, strokes your neck.

“It’s ok, baby bear. Daddy’s right here,” he coos as if he isn’t the one bringing you to tears.

You gasp and whimper. The words “I know” barely make it from your lips, but they reach his ears. His own body is getting stiff as his release bubbles up within him. He grits his teeth and keeps thrusting, grunting at how tight you’re clamped around him, walls massaging his shaft with each stroke.

“So pretty when you cry, sweet girl. Such a sensitive baby,” he whispers into your hair, “My baby bear. Just a little more.”

You’re just hanging on, nodding along to what he says as your tears flow. You’re not chasing release. Even though you feel like you’re locked into a high right now, you don’t feel like you could cum again. You think you’d rupture something if you did.

Chris, on the other hand, knows it’s right around the corner. His jaw clenches as his eyes droop. His hand tightens into a fist in your hair, tugging a little on the locks. His breathing becomes harsher, his body is coated with sweat as he keeps working to that peak.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. You’ve been so good. I’m so proud of you,” he coos between kisses to your head.

Again, your head bobs in a weak nod. You’re limp on the bed when his body locks up and he buries himself as deep inside your cunt as he can go. He moans with his release. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as the pleasure washes over him. He exhales deeply before collapsing on top of you. He’s smothering you, and normally, you’d complain, but you’re not really in the mood right now.

Your bodies are molded together. You can’t even really tell where he ends and you begin. You’re both catching your breaths. For you, you’re regaining awareness of everything that isn’t the man on top of you.

You just lay like that for a while until finally, he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re not left alone though because he pulls you into his lap, cradling you against his chest like a plush toy. He’s looking down at you with all the love in the world. His thumb swipes across your cheeks to wipe away all the remaining tears.

“You ok?” he whispers and kisses your face a few times.

“Mhm,” you hum, sinking further into his embrace.

“Good,” he says while beginning to rub your back, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He knows this is what you need right now. In a few minutes, he’ll get you up, put you in the bath, make you a drink. But right now, he knows you just want him to hold you like the precious thing you are.

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

[arminsumi]

PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING FACE SITTING W ARMIN BUT DOM VERSION 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

S*T ON MY F*CE

↳ ARMIN アルミン + fem!reader

Note : idk if u meant him dom or reader dom so i made both lol 🫡 also the censoring of the title made me giggle its so dumb i just did it for visual reasons

Summary : faceriding/sitting with your boy Min... both a sub and dom version :)

Warnings 1/dom ver. : minors do not interact/read : smut/explicit content : daddy kink, face sitting/riding, mean dom Armin, dirty talk, begging, use of "good girl" and "wh*re" and "sl*t", after care

Warnings 2/sub ver. : sub Armin, mean dom reader, use of "good boy"

. . . Dom!Armin ver.

"Rub that pussy on my face. Don't fucking stop or daddy's gonna give you another spanking. Understood?"

"Yes daddy!" you whine, lowering your pussy and feeling his tongue lap at your folds immediately.

He's ruthless, latching his lips onto your clit when he knows he's fucked you to oversensitivity. Suckling while flicking his tongue against it.

He seethes in annoyance when you try lift your hips to have a breather from the pleasure.

"Who said you could take a break?" he said icily. "You're making daddy mad, baby. Being a bad girl... you know what bad girls get?"

"P-punishment...?"

"Aw, so you do have a thought behind those pretty eyes. I thought for a second I fucked your brains out and turned you into a dumb slut." he condescends in a saccharine voice. "Now you be good and stay right fucking there while I eat this pussy, yeah? Can you do that for me, precious?"

You nod and let out a raw moan.

He locks you in place, veiny forearms and hands hooking around your thigh's underside to secure that position. During times like these, he likes to show off that underneath his cute puppy face he's a strong man. His abs flex excitedly when he feels your cream dribbling down his chin.

"Mmm! Daddy daddy daddy I'm gonna cummm~"

"Hmmm?" he hums, lips flush against your pussy hole while he wriggles his tongue inside. He pulls back and looks up at you. "You wanna cum on my face? Beg for it."

"Oh but please—"

"—beg. For. It."

He edges you with his tongue, teasing your slit, nibbling at your labia, suckling everywhere except your clit just to frustrate you. Then he builds you up to orgasm and repeats the process, never letting you get your relief.

"Daddy daddy daddy please! I'm your good girl! I'll do anything— I'll do fucking anything for daddy! I'm d-daddy's little whore! Please let me cum, please! G-gimme my orgasm, please!"

He cracks a smile. Such an Armin smile. So sweet and genuine. He's so pleased with you.

"Then cum." he's curt before suckling your clit once more, denting his fingers into your thigh hard enough to make you feel like your skin is bruising.

"Cum cum cum, ohhh cum baby — that's it. Cum for daddy. Watch daddy rub that little clit. Goooood girl." he's frantically thumbing your clit, making your tremble and shake and roll your eyes back.

"Daddy, I'm cumming!"

"Good fuckin' girl. Aw look at that pussy cum... so perfect." he watches you become breathless, relishing in how you grind your pussy onto his mouth.

He licks your slit slowly, savoring the juices dribbling out your convulsing hole, while you pant and come down from your orgasm.

"D-daaaddyyyy..." you shakily croak.

"I know baby, that was a lot, hm?" he kisses your clit, "But you did so good for me. Let's go get a bath running, yeah? Aw, my girl you look so dazed it's cute."

You cling to him happily, smiling to yourself while he takes you to the bathroom.

"Hey..." he plucks a kiss, "Can you taste yourself on my lips?" he winks.

"How embarrassing!"

He giggles cutely. "Sorry. But you taste good. Really good. Could eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner."

"Stop." you laugh.

"Seriously, that was a full-course meal. I'm so full." he keeps going, slowly receding into that dorky loverboy side of himself who lovingly helps you wash up.

. . . Sub!Armin ver.

"Fuck my face, please. Fuck my face with your pussy. Wanna feel you c–cum on my tongue."

He's a whimpering, pathetic mess with skewed glasses and a blissed-out expression. Nothing puts him in this crazed horny state quite like being sat on by you.

Min thinks he's in heaven between your thighs. He inhales your scent and it makes his dick stand up straight in his tight, belted pants. He didn't bother to take off his tie or shirt; he laid there looking like a good academic boy.

"Thank you... thank you." he mumbles into your wet folds, slurping up and down your slit and kissing your pussy like you're a goddess he's worshipping.

"Ooh, you're such a fucking loser, Armin~ it's cute."

You roll your hips against his face, clutching his bangs tight. He can feel you tug his hair, it makes his cockbead leaky.

"I'm a l-loser for you." he whimpers. "Ride my face harder, please! I'll beg you!"

"Then beg me."

You press your pussy harder against him and he drowns in it. His veiny pale hands cling to your thighs like they're his lifeline.

"Mmmf~ ride my face please ride my fucking face. It tastes so good d-don't get off. J-j–just use me, use my mouth."

"So cute..."

He cums in his pants when you ride his face harder. A gooey load spurts into the fabric, you can smell it and taunt him. Your degrading words just turn him on more.

"Cum on my face! Pleaaase!" he's trying so hard to make you cum; rolling the tip of his tongue into your hole and fucking into it, lapping at your slit and gulping and gasping against your labia. Kissing your clit. Suckling it. Giving sweeping motions to it.

And his jaw and mouth are so tired but it's worth it when he feels your hips shudder on his face, and your pusssy dribbles cream out.

"Miiin~!"

"Did I do good? Am I a good boy?" he pants, looking up at you with baby blue eyes from below.

"Yeah... my good boy. You did so well..." you smile down at him and his heart flutters.

Copyright @arminsumi don't steal.

#mdni #smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #aot smut #snk smut #armin x reader smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x fem reader smut #armin #armin arlert #armin fanfic #armin x reader #armin aot #armin x y/n #aot #snk #armin x fem reader #aot x female reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #aot x reader

[baby-tini]

M4S

It was quiet… too quiet. The leaky pipe making puddles on the floor. The cold, damp air causes goosebumps to perk up on your arms and the hairs to stand up. Trying to move slightly, you hiss at the sharp cuffs as they bite at your raw wrists, the chair groans as you wriggle around in discomfort. Your thighs numb from not moving around, cracking your neck, you whine at the release of tension. The tight ropes giving you some relief when you inhale but cause you to choke up from the smell of bleach. Your ass is sore from the hard, wooden chair as you attempt to wiggle again, get some of the blood flow back into your legs, stretching them feels to hard as the lack of flow makes them feel heavier.

There's a bang upstairs… like a gun shot, then a harsh, bloody cry. One of pain and agony, it feels close but.. far? You're tired, hungry.. dazed maybe? Were you drugged? No, maybe it's just the lack of oxygen from the stuffy room, cold enough to be a basement.. but not quiet enough to be soundproof. Screaming might work, then again, alerting your.. kidnappers, won't benefit you, not even a little, but it's all you got. Although before you can even inhale the air there's a door that slams open not too far away from where you're tied up. It sounds broken from the sickening crack you hear reverberate off the walls. The stampede of steps sound angry, aggressive, the harsh groan of the steps and ear-splitting squeak of shoes tells you that much.

There's loud yelling in Japanese, then a sharp slap to your face, your head flies left so hard your neck cramps up, causing a dull pain to shoot through you. The whimper in pain is laughed off by the men… men? Maybe two, possibly three but you can't tell for sure. It hurts though, everything hurts, and everything hurts even more when a rough hand grabs a fist-full of your hair and yanks back at the root, causing a scream to rip from your throat, only for a bigger, colder hand to clamp around your throat and squeeze tight. A hand, soft and warm wipes away the sweat from your brow, sliding from your cheek to the fat of your lips and running a thumb? over it, tapping the bottom twice, your jaw dropping for entry, the loose feeling of your jaw is nice, until you feel a cold, hard piece slip between them… a gun. The tip of your tongue meets the trigger and you freeze up, attempting to pull away, only for the hand gripping your hair to pull you forward, making you gag on it. There's bile attacking the back of your throat, trying to force it back with a swallow only makes the gun slide deeper, the metal cutting the corners of your lips as your blindfold is pulled off.

"There's no use in pulling back, angel." A man, more on the shorter side, no taller than 5'5, with black hair speaks to you. His voice sound's deep and alluring, you'd go as far as to say sexy if it weren't for the circumstances. He looks similar to his counterpart, the one with white hair, just, not the blonde. The blonde looks the same.. but different? He looked meaner, more provokable, the one with his hand around your throat. The blondes hand tightened when you continued to force yourself away from the gun in the hand of the man with white hair.

There's little strength used to push you back onto the gun, your throat spasming around the intrusive piece of metal. The gag that comes from your throat is loud but muffled at the same time. The hand used to push you further onto the Dessert Eagle -that also has his hand in your hair- is connected to that of a black-haired man, the cut and color really fitting his skin tone and face. He's attractive.. they all are, but, you're still tied up in their basement, the ropes still tight around your abdomen. The prickly fibers on the rope, passing through your thin clothes and leaving an itchy and raw feeling on your skin. The ropes rubbing against the inevitable cuts on your stomach and chest.

The black-haired man leans down, as he pulls your head further back, the quirk of his lips obvious but not genuine. His eyes are the worst, big, black, soulless pits. There's something.. dark, maybe sinister even. Eyes that belong to a killer, not a human being. The eyes of tragedy and sin, not of praise and prayer. He's.. too close, his big black, bottomless eyes, they're scary. Like they can see through you, like theres nothing in them. You can't see a pupil, does he have pupils? He must, but then again, he's not the most… normal looking man you've ever met.

You're lost in a daze, the mans dark eyes like a never-ending abyss, that, you don't realize the calling of your name by the three men, that is, until you feel the hand wrapped around your throat -by the long-haired blonde- slap your cheek. Not as hard as you would've guessed but hard enough to snap you out of your daze. The cloudiness of your eyes leaving and the limp state goes away. The redirect of your mind leads you to look at the man with white hair. He has the same dead, black eyes but.. he looks more tired, more exhausted. He looks like skin and bones, the clothes he's wearing hanging off him noticeably.

The man with white hair speaks up, "When one of us asks a question, you answer, not a moment before and certainly not a moment after. Do you understand.. I said, Do. You. Understand?" You give a nod after a moment of hesitance, the pupil of your eyes dilate at the gun. Your whole body is trembling, "are you gonna kill me..?" It comes out as a muffled whimper, around the gun, less of what you planned but suitable nonetheless, given the situation. You wish they didn't hold so much power but.. these men looked dangerous, it would be best to play as submissive as possible.. be their little angel, so to speak.

The white-haired man stares at you for a second, "I won't kill you if… you give me what I want, deal?" There's an automatic nod to your head. The glow in your eyes speaks for you, as you try to lean forward ready to give them everything… only to freeze at the sadistic grin he -the white-haired man- gives you. The man, slides the gun out of your mouth and uses it to lift your chin, "You eager.. huh, pretty doll?" The fat of your cheeks flush at his words but you don't pull away, not like you were ables to anyway. He -the white-haired man- leans down in-front of your face, "You don't know what I want.. do you babydoll.. huh?" There's an automatic shake of your head, the back down, courtesy of the fear you're feeling. Then comes the tears, the salty water pouring down your cheeks as your throat starts to close up and you start to panic.

There's a quick swap of position, the blonde now stands behind you, with a loose hand around your throat. The black-haired man still has a fist in your hair, but his other hand starts wiping away the tears from your cheeks and rubbing his thumb under your brow to coarse you into a false sense of vulnerability. The white-haired man stays put, the gun still pointed in your face and those dark eyes still glued on you as his hands stay eerily steady.He doesn't seem bothered and you'd bet millions that he's not, this seems to be an everyday occurence for him.

"W- what did you want..?" your voice leaves in a stutter, the sound of a pained whimper, is apparent to the men, that you're terrified. Then again, they could tell by your eyes, the eyes of a scared fawn, just what they like. The blonde speaks up, "We want our money back… the same money you and your little boyfriend owe us." There's a confused gargle at the back of your throat as you look up at him. The black-haired man starts chuckling, "C'mon now, princess. I really hope you don't pull the confusion bullshit like everyone else.." You shake your head at them, "I truly don't know what you're talking about, I didn't steal money."

The blondes hand tightened around your throat, the red imprints already stinging, "lying will only make us angry, maybe you should try telling us the truth. You'll get out of here a lot quicker if you do." You shake your head, only for it to be yanked back by the hand in your hair. The hand in your hair starts moving your head in a 'yes' motion and he laughs in your face, leaning closer. "You'll tell us what we want to know, angel?" The man guides your head again, moving it against your will, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as your cries come out in pained whines because of the hand necklace you were so kindly given, against your will, of course.

The blonde speaks up, "we know you know what money we're talk- what's this, huh?" He pulls out a dime bag of coke from your bra. The reaction is immediate, to start thrashing in the chair again. Causing the black-haired man to lose his grip on your hair and get pushed away. The slap to your thighs are an immediate aftermath, the stinging causes your thighs to twitch open involuntarily. The gunman steps between them, he's close, too close, his breath smells of red bean paste, dorayaki.. maybe? The man slips the gun down from your jugular to your collarbone, leaving a angry red line.

"Please, that's not mine, I'm just… holding it for a friend. I- It- please, sir listen." There's a look between the men then a laugh. The black- haired man speaks up, getting close to your ear. "Sir, huh? That a lil'.. kink of yours sweetheart?" There's an immediate look of embarrassment, the dark blush climbing up your neck. The blonde leans down on your right, "oh, she likes that… you like this don't you? You like being tied up and having a gun pointed at your head, huh? You're a sick little bitch, you know that?" His hand glides down your clavicle to your stomach, then trailing down to your thighs then gliding his hand back up. He blonde takes out a knife and cuts the restraints on your wrists and ankles, then sheathes it back into his pocket.

"Please… it wasn't on me, it was Akamai, I swear, I didn't know, those fucking drugs aren't mine." There's a whine to the plead in your voice, just noticeable for the three… men, in front of you. "But, that's not entirely true… is it, pretty girl? You knew what your little… what? Boyfriend? Was doing, you came with him, is he.. your little..?"He gestures to your clothes. His two brothers behind him also give you curious eyes. Giving you a full once over, staring at your breasts, a little longer then necessary.

There's a look of disgust on your face, "are you calling me a whore??" There's a harsh lash in your tone. There's a chuckle from all three men. "No princess, well.. maybe, I mean look at you, you're dressed like a little slut. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he'd pimp you out?" It's quick- but not quick enough, your attempt to wrangle the throat of the man in front of you is quickly shut down by his twin? Brother? You're still not sure, but they're too similar to just be brothers. Then again, you doubt they'll tell you, if the gun pointed at your head right now tells you anything. BANG.

The bullet speeds past your face, cutting your cheek in the process. There's a slight sting but nothing serious. The bullet hits the drywall behind you, leaving a small hole. The sickly looking man leans down in-front of you and laughs in your face. His breath reeks of sugary treats.

You're yanked out of the chair by your hair, you trip and fall to your knees but the white-haired man continues to drag you to a door, it leads to a smaller room with a bed. The room is bland and cold, there's only a bed, with no sheets or covers.. no pillow and comforter either. The bed itself is small and looks to be covered in.. blood. The fluids on the bed are dried and old, browning in spots and dark red in others.

"Is this where you keep your sex slaves?" There's a chuckle from the blonde and black-haired man but a scoff from the man dragging you by your hair, "we don't keep "sex slaves".. we don't need to. Women pay to have sex with us, angel.. but there's a first for everything. Maybe you're the golden girl, hm?" The man lays you down on the bed and the black-haired man stands next to him. "Yeah, I like her, we'll keep her." The men make the agreement together, disregarding you completely.

"Who are you guys anyway?" There's a silence then a scoff from each men, "you seriously don't know who we are?" You hesitate for a moment, "I know who you guys are, kinda, The Sano brothers… that's it, I don't even.. know your names." They all step towards you simultaneously, the white-haired man speaks first.

"I'm Manjiro Sano, the one with black-hair is Jiro Sano and the blonde is Mikey Sano." The white-haired man clarifies. You look between the men. "So, are you guys- Manjiro and Jiro twins?" They nod. Then Mikey walks around his brothers and pushes you down on to the bed.

"We're willing to cut you a deal, sweetheart, sex in exchange for your freedom, we'll have your.. boyfriends head instead, sound good?" He states, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You look at Mikey then his brothers, nodding your head as you kiss at Mikeys finger-tips. All three men grin and the other two get on the bed as well.

Jiro, pushes you down to climb on top of you. As he starts to kiss up your neck, Manjiro kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he runs his hand down your stomach, to your thighs and pulls them open. Mikey climbs in-between them, pulling at your pants. He throws them to the side, he takes his thumb and runs it over your clit, through your panties. He slips his index down you clothed slit. There's a wet patch under his fingers and he pats your cunt a couple times.

You whine into the mouth enclosing yours, running your left hand through Jiros hair. Tugging at the black strands, he groans into your neck, biting down a little harder. He pulls back to see the fresh teeth imprints, then he goes back down, he starts to mark other parts of your neck. Mikey licks you through your panties, nipping at the fabric and nuzzles his nose into your clit, causing you to try and jerk away. Mikey grabs you by the thighs and pulls you back down, towards his mouth.

He finally pulls your panties off and swipes the tip of his tongue over your clit, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. Then sucking harshly on it. You pull yourself away from Manjiros mouth, to throw your head back and cry out in ecstasy. The cry is pretty to them, they want- they need more, they're hungry for it. Mikey pulls back from the cunt, there's a quick whine from you but it's cut short when Manjiro kisses you again. Mikey spits on your slit, then uses his index and middle to smear it on your pussy. Making sure to deliver slow, tight circles around your clit. He leans back down to assault your clit again, giving it wet kisses as he slips two fingers inside and scissoring them apart.

There's a hiss of pleasure that escapes through your lips but Manjiro is there to shush you. Jiro pulls back, "we have to make this quick, I have a meeting with Toman in thirty." He states, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. Mikey pulls back and also slips his pants and boxers off, as he does that, Manjiro places another kiss on your lips and pulls back. He doesn't undress, he just slips the undergarments below his cock. Then pushes into your mouth, your tongue wrapping around his tip without order.

Mikey leans back to spread your thighs a little wider, he takes his cock in his hand and rubs the tip along your slit, pressing the tip to your clit to circle the nerve before he slides in. The spit providing extra lubrication, as he slips in easily. You look over and make eye-contact with Jiro, the does of your eyes only feeding into your lust as grabs your left hand to wrap it around his cock. Smearing his pre-cum to help jerk him easier.

You're full, so fucking full. You've had sex before but it's never felt this good and you doubt it ever will again. You've never met a man that fills you quite like Mikey and you highly doubt his brothers would disappoint you as well. Judging from how your mouth has to stretch beyond capacity, and how your hand barely fits half-way around Jiros cock. The drugs were worth it, stealing the drugs from Akamai were more worth it then you first thought. You've always wanted to fuck the Sano brothers and if that means framing your money-hungry limp dick boyfriend then so be it.

Jiro moves closer to you and squeezes your hand tighter around his cock, he groans from the pressure and you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist and rubbing your thumb up and down the slit, it causes him to keen over you as he catches himself with his right hand above your head moving his left down to rub at your clit. The added pleasure causes you to squeal around his brothers cock. Your throat spasming around Manjros cock as you attempt to bob your head quicker on his dick. Mikey pulls you closer and pulls both your thighs onto his left shoulder as he fucks you harder, his right hand pressing down on your stomach, as his dick leaves a physical imprint inside you. He gives your left ankle a kiss as he leans his head on your calves, watching as you take his brother down your throat.

Manjiro wraps your hair around his fist as he starts to throat-fuck you. He uses his left hand to wipe away your tears as he rubs his thumb under your right eye. "You're doing so good for us, sweetheart?" You try to nod for him as best you can. He chuckles as you choke from your nodding and gives your right cheek a couple pats before he leans his head back and lowly groans. The sound reverberates around the small, bare room and so does the sound of the bed creaking, occasionally hitting the wall, every now and again.

The body bounces in rapid jerks from the thrusts as all three men fuck you pliant. The gags of your throat sending vibrations through Manjiros cock and he whines. The man looks at you through lidded black eyes. "Tell me now before I finish down your tight throat." There's a rapid nod from your end, you need to feel it slip down your throat, you need to taste him. He nods, letting his head fall back as he cums down your throat. His twin is next, Jiro cumming all over your chest, some getting on your stomach. He breathes heavily as he lazily grins at you, still rubbing tight circles around your clit.

You cum, harder then ever before, harder then you thought possible. Mikey tries to pull out but you shake your head and whine at him, he chuckles at that and pushes all the way to the brim, his balls taut against your ass as he cums inside. He's warm and fills you full, your stomach having a little bump from it, that he so gleefully pushes down on when he pulls out of you, causing the cum the slide out of you. Only for him to use his fingers to slide it back into, with a kiss to the cheek gets up. All three of the men stand up and redress themselves, giving you a smirk as they do so.

Manjiro walks back over to you and pecks your lips and with a peck to the cheeks from Jiro and Mikey, they grant you with the words you've longed to hear, since you saw them that day.

"We're gonna keep you princess.. I hope you don't mind."

#baby-tini #M4S #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #manjiro x reader #tokyo rev x reader #manjiro sano #yandere mikey #yandere tokrev #bonten mikey #bonten manjiro sano #yandere bonten #tokyorev #manila manjiro #yandere manila mikey #manila mikey x reader #manila mikey #kanto manjiro #kanto mikey #tokyo revengers toman #toman mikey #toman gang #tokyo manji gang #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo rev #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro #yandere manjiro #yandere tr

[colourstreakgryffin]

Yandere yoriichi where he's too clingy because of his past and h won't let go of reader not matter how much they explain they have to go anywhere... please....go crazy with it..(have a great day and have fun)

Tsugikuni Yoriichi- Far Too Attached

“Yoriichi…” You nervously say a single word, out of the blue, almost laughing in the same manner as the much stronger man clung firmly and even desperately to your poor bruised waist, keeping you from walking… or running away from him. You were afraid of the quiet kind man you use to call your friend, he was so obviously obsessed with you that you tried to drift apart from him

Make him forget about you and move on. But no, he followed you everywhere until the point you feel unsafe and horrified each time you leave your home. Yoriichi clung onto you as fast as he could, leaning on your shoulder and stumbling along with you as you walked, most people thought he was just a affectionate boyfriend but you truly knew what was wrong with Yoriichi

He’s sick. He’s twisted. He’s a monster, a demon over demons

“Yes…” Yoriichi answered mindlessly, his hands clinging your kimono as of letting go would cause his heart to stop. You wanted to push him off you so bad and call out for help as you run full speed from this awful household he has forced you to stay in for longer than the hour or so you were promised, when you wanted to have tea with him. You’re a kind soul, you didn’t want to say no to Yoriichi’s very eager request

Even if he is so awful, you weren’t able to refuse him. But you should have… and you regret your decision of being unconditionally kind to him

“C-Can… I go now?” You stutter out the reasonable request with raw terror and adrenaline pumping into your veins, his built arms were basically constricting your lungs and it felt like you were being suffocated with how tight he held you and how firm he forced you to brush against his equally fit chest. He didn’t care for your discomfort or your horror, he just wanted to sniff your hair, touch your warm goosebump-covered skin and live out his sick fantasies of you in person

Yoriichi met eyes with you the second you finished your request and your lips pressed close, those dark pinkish-red irises made your bones feel like they were crumbling into grain and your confidence was being shot out through a high-speed canon. He was too strong, you had no way to escape him, his arms radiated intense strength and his eyes radiated intense pressure

A pressure that made your legs feel useless all in one glare

You knew you couldn’t convince him to willingly let you leave his hell of a household without him attached to your side as if he is a cancer bump. It’s horrifying, he has been like this ever since you befriended him, you were his swordsmith and you grew closer to him since you felt a strong sense of empathy for him and his saddening situation

He lost his wife and unborn child, he lost his brother, he lost his parents. He is truly lonely and you wanted to give him a sense of purpose. Since he truly didn’t have anybody anymore, and you wanted to be his friend

Unaware that you’re kindness had caused Yoriichi to go mad over you. Grow a horrible obsession over you that made it unbearable to merely breath without you within his vision, you didn’t just give him a reason to continue on with his meaningless life, you gave him a need to breathe the same air you did

Don’t leave. Don’t leave, he repeated in his mind as veins of grip strength ran over his hands to prevent you from even twitching in his arms. He can’t let you move the tiniest bit, it’ll let you try wriggle free and you leaving has his heart cracking into pieces. He needs you

He needs you

“You can’t go…”

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #short story #kny hashira #tsugikuni yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #yandere yoriichi tsugikuni #kimetsu yoriichi #demon slayer yoriichi #kny yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #yoriichi angst #yoriichi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba yoriichi #yandere imagines #yandere romance #yandere #yandere headcanons

[konigsblog]

https://x.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1716577080249323754?s=20

This could work for so many of your aus I can't choose who or what aus this belongs in.

rape/non-con warning, bondage, abuse of authority, kidnapping

kidnapper!horangi gives me these vibes :3 🎀🔪

you can't tell me that he wouldn't tie you to a table so he could fuck deep into you without you're constant squirming. sliding his lengthy, veiny dick into your slick pussy repetitively whilst you squirm and sob for him to stop! stop only means more, right? you're clearly enjoying this, so why fight it?

horangi loves that he's able to slam into you and groan out without the thrashing or the struggle beneath him. he chuckles at your weakness, thankful when you finally give up, as it was humilating you to try attempt to fight against him.

“아, 내 더러운 작은 것... 너 그거 좋아하는 거 알잖아, 아닌 척은 하지 말자, 응? 아냐아냐... 쉿, 네가 그 소중한 보지 안에 이 자지를 구석구석까지 집어넣고 싶어한다는 걸 알아.” *Ah, my dirty little thing... You know you like it, let's not pretend you don't, alright? No-no... Shhh, I know you want every inch of this cock inside that precious pussy.”

but you know what SCREAMS this? doctor!könig, doctor!ghost... 🩻🏥🔪

doctor!könig grew a fascination with you... and well, that soft, addictive body he got to see every time you visited him, using your vulnerability to his advantage. once he had you on the medical bed, he waited for the anesthesia to knock you out so he could ease his thick, girthy cock into your dripping pussy, rutting into you sloppily until you woke up.

gagged and silenced, you couldn't speak. you watched the way he drove his thick, huge dick into your pussy repetitively, grinding his cock into your slicken cunny while you wriggled and sobbed – cries muffled and your face tearstained as he continued fucking deep into your wetness, a shaking little mess unable to stop crying and hyperventilating at the rawness and ache between her soft thighs :(

“oh, ich weiß, ich weiß... du magst es nicht, wenn du benutzt wirst. du magst es nicht, dich verletzlich zu fühlen, ja? ich konnte nicht anders, ich konnte nicht anders, als direkt in deine enge muschi zu rutschen...” *Oh, I know, I know... you don't like being used. You don't like feeling vulnerable, yes? I couldn't help it...- I couldn't help it, but slide into your tight pussy.

unlike doctor!könig, doctor!ghost isn't gentle whatsoever. he doesn't even wait until you're asleep or under anesthetics, he's already wrestling you to the medical bed, tying you there while grinding his bulge again you. he adores sliding his thick and hard dick into you while you're sobbing and shaking, breathing out heavily as he continued plough into you, his hazel eyes behind the blue medical mask piercing into yours.

until you give up, knowing the power and authority he had over you. you're just one of many patients, you're nothing in comparison to him.

“quit fuckin' squirmin', girl... don't make me hit you. stay. still. c'mon, why are ya' actin' like i can't feel your pussy squeezin' 'round me like this, love?” he huffed out, gritting his teeth and slamming into you relentlessly, shaking his head, frustrated at your disobedience and nervousness.

#orla speaks #tw: noncon #horangi mw2 #horangi x reader #horangi cod #horangi #kim horangi hong jin #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x reader #konig x reader smut #cod konig #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost headcanon #ghost mwii #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

[rebouks]

Oscar heaved a sigh of defeat, plonking himself at the edge of the bed. “Well, he locked his door again-.. and he’s either ignoring me, or he’s got his headphones in, or both.”

“What the hell happened yesterday?” Courtney asked, rolling toward Oscar sleepily.

Oscar shrugged; he wasn’t entirely sure. The whole evening had been a disaster from start to finish. “I don’t know, he got in a fight with that kid, didn’t he-.. and my old neighbour saw us n’ decided to reminisce about me fucking OD’ing.”

“He didn’t actually say that, did he?” Courtney’s brows knitted together in shock.

Oscar shook his head, “No, he just said some shit about how he thought I was dead in that grotty bathroom at the Mill-.. I thought Ivan n’ Rhys found me but I guess he must’ve been there too, who knows.”

“What an idiot, bringing that up at the school gates.” Courtney tutted. Oscar nodded in agreement, pausing for a moment before suggesting, “Maybe I should explain what actually happened? He knew I was lying.” Courtney stiffened, “No, he’s too young!” “I hated it when my parents blatantly lied to me though, I’m telling you; he fucking knows.”

Courtney hummed, scratching Oscar’s back thoughtfully. “I’m more worried about him fighting.” Oscar pondered for a moment before replying, “It sounds like he was just standing up for himself. If he makes a habit of it, then we’ll worry.” “Yeah, okay…”

Oscar and Courtney glanced at one another as Robin unlocked his door and bolted to the bathroom, hastily locking that door behind him too. With a quick shove, Courtney hissed, “Go, go!”

Robin leapt across the landing and threw himself into his room, his sigh of relief swiftly retreated in on itself as he swung his door shut, however; Oscar had outsmarted him, waiting behind the door.

“I’m not going!” Robin yelled, “I’m sick…” Oscar calmly shook his head from side to side, “That’s not gonna fly, is it? We both know you’re not sick…”

Robin clenched his fists tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, desperately willing himself to vomit on command, faint, have some kind of fit-.. anything would do.

“If you’re worried about-…” “I don’t give a shit about Levi.” Robin spat.

Oscar frowned worriedly; he knew Robin hadn’t wanted their holiday to end, or to go back to school, but this abrupt fit of anger was highly uncharacteristic. Surely it was still too early to be worried about the dreaded P word? He had the faint beginnings of bags under his little eyes too-.. which were red raw and puffy, as though he’d spent more time crying last night than he had sleeping.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” Oscar asked gently, gesturing toward Robin with an outstretched hand. Robin shrugged a shoulder as he crawled beside Oscar, suddenly feeling guilty for yelling. What if his father died right after he’d said something awful and mean? He’d never forgive himself.

“Is it something in particular? A bit of everything?” Robin remained silent, anxiously nibbling at a stray strip of skin on his bottom lip. “Talk to me…” Oscar pleaded.

Robin wriggled away from the comfort of his father’s arms and curled into a ball. What the hell was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep all night because he kept seeing Oscar’s lifeless body on a bathroom floor, on a stretcher, in a hospital-.. dying in various awful ways again and again until he wasn’t sure what the difference was between someone else’s memories and his own imagination. That he just wanted his brain to stop and for everyone to just shut up-.. just for once, please.

Oscar didn’t know what to do with Robin’s prolonged silence. He desperately wanted to explain what Larry had been talking about, but Courtney was probably right about him being too young. Besides, he didn’t even know if that was the issue. It could’ve been Larry, or the fight with Levi, or the fact that he missed Alex-.. all of the above, something else entirely?

“I know this Levi kid is probably doing your head in, but you can’t just go around hitting people-.. it’s not okay.”

Robin knew full well that violence wasn’t the answer, but he couldn’t deny that it’d felt a little satisfying to take his frustrations out on Levi. Any normal child might’ve asked if their parents were angry with them-.. except Robin wasn’t normal, and he already knew that Oscar wasn’t mad, nor his mother, so he kept his mouth shut.

Grasping at straws, Oscar cast his mind back to when he was a child. Whenever he was in one of his moods, as his mother always put it, he just needed to know that someone would listen, and he certainly didn’t want to be yelled at or mithered-.. but most of all, he just wanted to be left alone, at least for a little while…

“You can have one day, okay? Just one.” Oscar acquiesced. Robin barely moved, giving the tiniest of nods in response.

“Alright.” Oscar sighed inwardly, tussling Robin’s ginger curls with affection before reluctantly leaving him be.

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #oscar finch #courtney finch #robin finch #woooo prose 🤸‍♀️ #not so woo.. sad robin #MY BOY! #😭 #he's so upset abt the whole larry thing but he can't say anything about it ahhhhhhhhdkjkdjskj #did anyone else go thru a phase where u were convinced ur parents were gonna die when they were a kid? #or was it just my tiny ocd brain that was broken??? #man i hated that phase #i feel u bby bird boy 😩🤧 #twoverdose

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 18)

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen

The room is silent, save for the children’s breathing and their own. Haymitch knows his wife is awake, as she toys softly with his fingers, draped over her waist.

It’s been two days since the propo, from eight, aired in the districts. There’s been riots in several of them.

“Katniss wants to go back to twelve.” Y/N tells him. “Show Peeta what Snow did to it.”

Haymitch sighs, “I figured.”

“After his last interview with Caesar…” she breaks off, “they’re gonna kill him, Haymitch. They’re gonna starve him, torture him to death.”

“We don’t know that.”

“You saw him, it’s only been a few weeks.” 

Haymitch settles a hand over her heart, soothing the ache. “Beetee’s working on getting into the Capitol’s communications system. Once he’s in, they’ll play one of your propos and people will be storming the mansion.”

“He can’t get past his own design.” Y/N shakes her head.

“He will,” Haymitch whispers, “give it time.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbles. “I can’t just keep sitting here while he’s suffering.”

“I wish I had some divine wisdom to give you.” Haymitch tells her. “I can make something up. Or I can be honest; say that I’m here and I won’t leave. I will support whatever you decide and advise you as best I can. But right now there’s nothing else you can do.”

It is honest and raw, a truthfulness he’s so often shielded her from. It feels different. It feels good. “Thank you, for being honest.”

“From here on out, that’s how it’ll be.”

The words land like blows to her gut. “You still love me though?”

“I’ll always love you.” Haymitch says, without hesitation. “You didn’t always make it easy, but never once did I stop loving you. You’re it for me.”

She wriggles farther against him, melting into his arms with a smile. “I love you forever, Haymitch.”

“Mommy,” Arista’s little voice sounds, from the corner. “You’re talking in your sleep again.”

“No, baby. I’m talking to Daddy.”

“Can I talk too?” Arista perks up.

Haymitch chuckles, “come on. But you have to be quiet, your brother and sister are sleeping.”

Eventually sleep claims them all.

Y/N wakes in a tangle of arms and legs. Both of their older children have joined them.

Daisy begins to fuss, she needs to be changed and she’s hungry. So Y/N pries herself away, tending the baby and settling against the pillows of Everest’s empty bed to nurse her. She wails when Y/N pauses, mid feeding, to switch her to the opposite breast.

“I know,” Y/N cooes, “life’s hard, huh?”

Daisy pops open an eye to glare at her, as if she understands. Then latches on with a content sigh and stops kicking her little legs.

Y/N strokes a finger over the infant’s cheek. Unbidden tears well up in her eyes, swiped away before they fall. It is a blessing and a curse, to have pieces of your heart live outside your body.

When it comes time for breakfast, the five of them go together. They sit and try to enjoy this moment, enjoy their time together. Y/N and Haymitch walk Everest and Arista to school, in the lower levels.

The children introduce their parents to the few friends they’ve made. Only six other children reside here in thirteen, not including their own, or Prim. She’s working down in the hospital these days. Childhood has fleeted her.

Orders come, it’s time for Y/N to load up with Katniss and the others on the hovercraft. Haymitch walks her to the loading dock, Daisy sleeping in the wrap, against his chest.

“Soldier Abernathy,” Boggs greets her. “Glad you could join us.” He wasn’t thrilled with her performance in district eight. Following the mockingjay into harm’s way, without a second thought. Though she acted erratically, he sees now, there is no safer place for Katniss than by her side.

“Boggs,” she nods, in return. Then gives her husband a proper goodbye.

Haymitch smiles into the kiss. It is not hungry or desperate, but sweet, calming even.

“I’ll see you for dinner.” She waves as they separate.

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

They break for lunch, after filming a propo in twelve. It’s mostly Gale, recounting what happened after Y/N’s warning was received.

Everything is gone, save for bones and rubble of what they once called home. The houses in Victor’s Village still stand, preserved from the attack. Y/N passes through her front door.

She ventures to Arista’s closet, opening one of the tubs at the bottom, full of clothing that no longer fits. The ones they saved, just in case. A white footed onesie that Everest and Arista wore as infants should be there. Eventually she gives up looking, it must’ve been moved. Perhaps something Haymitch dug out, in preparation and forgot to mention.

Y/N closes the door to Arista’s room, catching a whiff of something sweet, floral, from down the hallway. The room they’d hardly touched, meant for Daisy. She pushes the door open, the crib is assembled, the bedding in place, surrounded by a bed of crisp, white, roses. Lying against the mattress is the missing outfit.

Forever tainted by this memory. She takes it anyway, holding the soft fabric to her chest. It no longer smells of her sweet babies, or the soap she used to clean the onesie once they outgrew it.

Stuffing it into her bag to wash, Y/N takes their pictures, the baby books, as much as she can carry. She may never be back here, their memories are too important to lose.

When she meets Katniss and the others, down at the quarry, she’s not in the mood for small talk. Y/N takes a seat on the rocks, and chokes down her rations.

“What’s that?” Cressida nods toward the fabric peeking out of Y/N’s bag.

“Oh, it’s just um,” Y/N tucks it back in, “nothing.”

The director smiles. “Can I see?”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “sure.” She pulls the garment free, holding it up for inspection. “I’ve had it since my son was born, my oldest daughter wore it too, so I figured-”

“Did you make it?”

“No.” Y/N lowers her gaze, “it was someone else.”

“Where are they now?” Cressida wonders.

“I don’t know,” Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know if they’re even alive, or…” dead. “Either way I don’t think we’ll see each other again.”

Cressida nods, “it smells like the Capitol.”

“Reeks,” Y/N agrees, “needs to be washed.”

————————————————————————

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of hope, side by side with me.”

“That line used to be necklace of rope,” Plutarch informs the viewing room, as the newest propo of Katniss singing in district twelve, plays over the large screen. “I had it changed to necklace of hope.”

“Ah,” Haymitch raises his cup to the gamemaker. It’s full of nothing but water, still it feels familiar to have there. “You are a true wordsmith.”

“It’s a little on the nose, but of course, so is war.” Plutarch smiles.

“Every district is seeing this?” President Coin asks.

Gale’s message is strong, redeeming on Y/N’s behalf. It’s enough to win over the districts, without breaking whatever ties she holds with citizens of the Capitol.

“Yes, but not the Capitol.” Beetee frowns, “we’ll get there.”

Y/N nods. There was no time between supper with the kids and being called to this meeting in command.

Haymitch doesn’t know about the crib or the outfit, but he picked up the scent of roses from her bag. He knows something is off.

They are dismissed after a time. Again they wait, walking hand in hand to their living quarters. Haymitch moves for the touchpad to open the doors.

“Wait,” Y/N stops him. “There’s something I need to tell you…about the house. It’s still there.”

“I figured.” She wouldn’t have come back with things from inside if it was burnt to ash.

“Snow had the crib moved into Daisy’s room. He took the onesie Vanity made out of Arista’s closet and left it there.”

“That’s why it smells like that?”

“Yeah, the nursery was full of roses.”

“He doesn’t know,” Haymitch realizes.

“Know what?”

“If he knew her name was Daisy, he would’ve left daisies instead. He would want us to know that he knows. He’s fishing for information he doesn’t have.” Haymitch knows this game.

“So what do we do?” Y/N asks, turning worried eyes to her husband.

“We’re getting through to the districts, Y/N. We just have to wait him out.”

————————————————————————

Peeta’s final interview with Caesar does not air in the mess hall, like the others. Only higher ups in the command center are granted access. Y/N leaves the children with Madge. Rushing to meet Haymitch once the message reaches her.

The boy she once knew is broken, hollow. His eyes haunted by the horrors inflicted upon him. His voice trembles over each word. Oh, Peeta.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say who murdered three.”

The image of Katniss cuts through his own.

“Katniss?” Peeta stammers, searching for her.

“He sees it.” Coin rejoices, “he sees our propo.”

“Katniss, are you there?”

Y/N moves closer to Haymitch, searching for his hand and finds it inching toward hers.

“Peeta.” Katniss whispers, a hand held to her belly as she crowds the screen. Desperate to offer a comfort she cannot give. I’m here.

“Peeta, please continue.” Caesar redirects him. “You were telling us about these savage attacks.”

Peeta nods, his thoughts clouded. Perhaps he had been seeing things, just imagining Katniss; the sound of her voice. “The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction.”

“The dead man called out…for his love to flee.”

Peeta sees her again, sitting up at the edge of his chair. He knows what he has to do. Even if they kill him for it. “Think about it. How will this end? What will be left? No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol, not in any of the districts.” He pauses, mustering the courage. “They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone. And in district thirteen you’ll be dead by morning-”

The blow of Snow’s cane sends blood spattering across the screen. His features twisted in anger.

“That was a warning,” Haymitch says. President Coin is dense, he needs to be sure she understands.

Y/N rushes to Katniss, turning her away.

“They’re gonna kill him.” Katniss cries. “We have to get him out.”

“Shh,” Y/N hushes her. “We’re gonna get him.” She believes what she’s saying, she has to.

“Can you see anything?” Coin asks the patrol operator.

“Nothing on Doppler.”

“He was in the mansion, he could’ve overheard something.” The president reasons.

“Possibly,” Plutarch agrees.

“He wouldn’t just make it up,” Y/N snaps.

Alma mulls it over for a moment, “it’s time for an air raid drill.”

The alarms sound, immediately. “This is a code red alert, please remain calm and follow evacuation protocol. Proceed in an orderly fashion to the nearest stairwell and descend to level forty. Blast doors will be sealed in six minutes.”

Y/N is still holding Katniss as Haymitch closes the distance between them. “Take Katniss and I’ll meet you there.”

“Haymitch, no.” Y/N shakes her head. “I wanna come with you.”

Haymitch turns to Katniss, “Prim and your mom are down at the hospital, right?”

Katniss nods, tears welled up in her eyes and she cannot speak.

“Good, they’ll be waiting for you.” One less thing to worry about.

“Haymitch,” Y/N says again.

“Getting to Madge and the kids will take longer with three of us and you know it.” He’ll have to fight his way up through a crowd of people rushing down. “I need you to trust me.”

“I-” she wants to argue, but there’s no time. She has to trust him. “Ok.”

‘If you love something, you set it free or some bullshit like that.’

The furrow of his brow softens. The words come easier now, in the panic and the shouting; at the thought of losing her. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Y/N and Katniss go left, hands clasped together.

Haymitch turns right; and they lose each other in a sea of strangers.

Part 19

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x yn #thg haymitch #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

[yandereshingeki]

Dear Rabbit

Yandere! Werewolf! Eren Jaeger x Reader

Eren J Masterlist

Word Count: 19k

Pairing: Eren x Reader

Content: Smut, Slight Fluff, Yandere themes, Slight Violence

Content Warnings: Fem bodied reader, Eren calling reader ‘bunny’, use of ‘good girl’ once, calling Eren ‘sir’ once, Dubcon (reader consents but under the influence of “heat”), kidnapping, Hybrids(?), Mentions of Pregnancy/impregnation, implied forced pregnancy, mentions of hunting, Scratching, injury (Eren digging his claws into you), Stockholm Syndrome (speedrun edition—influenced by marking), violence, fighting, raw meat (does that need a warning??), very small amount of hurt/comfort, Yandere themes, possessiveness, obsession, Marking, Smut (Size difference, breeding, slight A/B/O themes, knotting, heat, rut, creampie, cunnilingus, nipple play, F! receiving oral, stretching, stomach buldge, cervix pounding, slight orgasm denial), slight monsterfucking(?)

Summary: A part-wolf part-human creature has been watching you for quite some time, and he’s finally matured enough to make you his mate. You don’t remember him, but he’d do anything to make you his.

Werewolf Eren’s size compared to an average height person

An extra dilf werewolf eren <3

While reading the smut portion of this—please remember that it is unrealistic as fuck, because if you had sex with someone who’s dick was as big as Werewolf Eren’s, your insides would probably break. I lowkey cringed a lot while writing about the heat stuff 😭😭 I am so sorry

Also I sort of combined his manga colors and anime colors in this—black hair and green eyes

The rain fell heavily outside, crashing against the windows and roof of your apartment. Tree branches fluttered and waved with the wind, knocking against the window in your room as if they were begging for an escape from the storm.

You were getting ready for another day of school, packing your bag with all of the notebooks you needed, followed by your sticker-covered laptop and the pencil pouch you kept stocked with all of the pens, markers, and #2 pencils you could ever need. After pulling a waterproof jacket over your outfit of choice—jean shorts and a well-worn shirt—you pulled the thick bag straps over your shoulders and left your room, shutting the door behind you. 

One of your roommates sat in the kitchen on her phone, giving a quiet “morning” while she scrolled through Instagram. Without classes in the morning to keep her busy, she often made breakfast for you and your other roommate—which was always greatly appreciated. Today, she’d made toast, leaving out all of the possible toppings for you to choose from on the counter. 

You picked up a slice from the plate, munching on it quickly while raiding the pantry nearby for a granola bar or two, just in case the toast wasn’t enough to hold you off until lunch. As you prepared to walk out the door, your roommate was quick to say, “Watch out for werewolves!”

It was a running joke between people that lived in your relatively tiny town, brought on by the large wolf population in the surrounding forests—and also by the superstition of werewolves that supposedly lived beside their more canine brethren. Older people would tell their young grandchildren all about it, or mothers used it to keep their children from going too close to the woods. Either way, you didn’t believe it, but it was fun to joke about.

With a giggle, you bid her goodbye—pulling your jacket’s hood up, leaving the house, and starting your walk to the bus stop in the pouring rain.

The sidewalk was soaked, little worms wriggling out of the grass for fresh air. Carefully, you avoided them the whole way, reaching the bus stop and waiting quietly for your ride to show up. A few minutes passed before you heard the stutter of the bus engine—the long, white vehicle littered with advertisements pulling up to the bench you waited on. 

You got up, stomping through the tiny puddles of rain on the sidewalk and climbing the stairs into the bus. It was mostly empty, aside from a few middle-aged people on their way to work. The windows were blurred from the rain, making it difficult to see when you sat down and tried to look through them. Although, if you squinted and looked into the distance—hidden by the underbrush and the thick tree trunks—you could’ve sworn you saw someone standing there, watching you. Rubbing your eyes and looking again, you noticed the figure was gone. You simply shrugged it off and turned forward, resting your head against the cold window. 

It was probably never there in the first place, you thought. You always saw things like that out of the corners of your eyes that weren’t really there, so it was easy to assume that this time was the same. 

If only you had known it was real, maybe you could have done something to avoid it.

  School went by quickly, and all of your classes for the day ended by noon. You just decided to go back home instead of sticking around—mostly because it would be easier for you to study there than in a public place. 

By now, the rain had lightened up a little and created a thin fog on the ground, making it difficult to see things at a distance. You no longer needed to wear your jacket, so you held it under your arm while you waited for your ride home. After the bus arrived and you got on, you texted your roommate that you would be back soon and asked if she could heat up some leftovers for you to have for lunch. She replied with a thumbs-up emoji, making you smile while you tucked your phone away into your bag.

The bus was quick to arrive back in your neighborhood, with fewer stops being necessary this time due to the lack of people. Stepping off, you walked past the end of the bus—only to stop at the sight of your neighbors waving at you from across the street. They were an elderly couple you became acquainted with while living at your nearby home, a pretty nice and sweet pair too. They just asked you how you were doing or how school was doing most of the time, so it really threw you for a loop when instead of their usual kind gestures, their faces contorted into ones of horror and paralyzing fear. 

Before you had a chance to question it, everything moved faster than you could comprehend. 

The first thing you realized was that you were being grabbed, but the next thing you knew—you were tumbling forward into the road, only being protected by whatever had a hold on you turning and hitting the pavement first. A scream from the elderly woman across the street echoed through the air, alerting the creature and causing it to panic and start running—with you in its arms. 

The grip it had on you hurt, its claws digging into you and creating small gashes in your sides that bled through your clothes. Only now, after having a moment to process what happened, did you start to squirm and scream for help. It was already too late for anyone to rescue you from the beast, but it was the only thing you could try. 

Your cries for help quieted into muffled sobs as you passed the threshold of the woods—the forest was huge; there was almost no chance of someone finding you there. You were going to die, you were sure of it, it was going to eat you.

Minutes passed, only filled with your cries of distress and the creature’s pants and feet crunching sticks and leaves on the ground—but then you hit a large clearing, and the sky was visible again. You couldn’t see well—your face buried in the shirt your kidnapper was wearing, and the sides of your head being blocked by the arms that were wrapped around you—only leaving you the ability to look up at the sky.

Small sprinkles of rain hit your face, joining the tears that dampened your cheeks. The creature let out a huff, its claws digging deeper into your already bloodied sides and making you wail in pain. You could feel it turn to look down at you, but you couldn’t see anything more than its neck and chin. After burying your face into its chest and letting out another cry, it started moving again, this time going from the woods into what you assumed to be a cabin—or a den of sorts. You couldn’t see much, but you did notice that it got darker and that the droplets of rain that you’d felt before ceased.

You were let go of without warning—dropped onto a soft, lumpy pile that was covered by a big linen blanket. Finally able to see your captor, you gazed up at him to see who and what he was.

He stared back at you, his bright eyes glowing green like the forest, even in the dark. Although he looked human, he wasn’t—there was no way he could have been, he was huge compared to the average person. Not only that, but emerging from his head stood two fluffy black ears that twitched as you studied him, matching his hair color—and further down, you could just barely make out a messy and tangled-looking tail, wagging back and forth behind him. The clothes he wore looked to be made by human hands, but considering how human-esque he was, they very well could have been made by him.

Your attention turned to your surroundings, eyeing the wooden walls surrounding the “bed” you were sitting on. There was more to this house that he had taken you into, but you couldn’t see past his broad shoulders and tall stature.

His wide eyes met with yours again, only for a second before he turned away and hurried off into the other part of the house, finally allowing you to see the rest of his abode when you sat up. Now that you could, you realized just how small the space really was—there was a big main room that held several different kinds of wooden storages stocked with different jars and bags, and then the small indent in the corner where the bed—and you—currently were.

The tall wolf-man dug through one of the cabinets attached to the wall, finally pulling out a roll of gauze. He hurried back to you, grabbing the hem of your ruined shirt and starting to pull it up without warning. Before he could drag it even halfway above your stomach, you slapped his claws away and fell backward, trying to curl into yourself and cover your bleeding sides. His ears fell back, and he held his hands up in front of him like he was trying to show that he wouldn't hurt you. 

“I can’t bandage you with your shirt on.” His voice was soft as he spoke, acting like if he raised his voice too high, you would shatter like glass.

The edge in his green in his eyes had changed, turning softer—his pupils dilated, eyes growing glossier the longer he looked at your scared figure, making it clear that he had no intention of harming you—because why would he, especially if he was giving you such a loving gaze. After thinking about it, you realized you wouldn’t be able to stop the bleeding as quickly as him, and you didn’t need to be any weaker than you already were. Otherwise, there might not be any hope for your escape at all. 

Slowly, you moved back to your previous position at the edge of the bed, starting to tug your shirt up. You stopped below your chest, still too afraid and untrusting to go any further. Every muscle in your body felt tense as he leaned in, maneuvering his hands around your waist to wrap the gauze tightly against your skin. It was fast, but the entire time you kept your eyes squeezed shut like it would make him disappear before they opened up again.

When he leaned away and you no longer felt his arms close to you, your eyes shot open so that you could stay aware of his every move. He stood over you awkwardly, leaning forward slightly and staring at your shirt with his lips pressed into a straight line while he contemplated his next move. You stared back at him, eyes darting to the side to ignore the uncomfortable tension.

And then, before you could stop him—he ripped your shirt off and speedily switched it out with his, barely giving you time to process what he had done before the oversized tunic was covering you up, the collar sliding off of one of your shoulders. Blinking for a second, you realized he began to walk away with your shirt—the only piece of clothing you had besides your shorts and underwear—so you jumped up and tried to take it back from him. He held it away from you effortlessly, high above his head where you couldn’t reach. 

“That’s—That’s mine!” You stuttered, stretching your arms up as far as you could before it made your sides burn.

“Go sit down—you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that.” The stern tone in his voice didn’t match the soft expression on his face, but it did match his actions as he pressed the pads of his fingers to your chest, pushing you back until you fell onto the soft bed.

Still unwilling to give up yet, you protested again, “But—But my shirt!” 

“There's blood on it and it has holes. It’s no use to you now, especially not out here.”

What he meant exactly by the words ‘out here’ you didn’t know, but you assumed it had something to do with the fact that you were deep in the woods, surrounded by all sorts of things that would easily hunt you down and kill you if they caught the smell of your blood. You looked down a little, staying quiet to tell him you understood, and that you could live without the soiled shirt. 

With a smile, he gave you a small pat on the head before walking to the opposite end of the room and dropping the fabric into a small, wooden bin on the floor. After pulling on a new shirt, he turned back to you, the first thing he noticed being your gaze, glued to the ground. Your face was mostly void of emotion—meaning he had no way of knowing what you were thinking, and no way of even guessing—leaving him grasping at straws to try and figure out how he could comfort you. 

Without giving any thought to how you would react to it, he walked over and wrapped his huge arms around you—effectively caging you in against his chest. Your entire body tensed up, shoulders scrunched up as far as they could be. It made you feel so small and powerless. You were small and powerless—against him at least.

After sitting quietly for what felt like hours—but was only a few minutes, in reality—he finally spoke up, “You’re so small still, even up close. Like a little bunny rabbit.”

The amount of effort it took to crane your neck enough so that you could look up at him was enormous, your bones cracking as you rested your chin on his chest. He peered down at you, a toothy smile forming slowly and showing off his dangerously sharp teeth. 

Struggling to get the words out from a combination of anxiety and your jaw being pressed shut against his sternum, you managed to question him, “Who—who are you—what are you? Why did—Why did you do this?”

“Oh.” He said in reply, not giving you a real answer yet—he needed a minute to figure out how he would explain his connection to you without sounding like he was making things up. You squirmed in his grip, trying to loosen it so that you weren’t being crushed. 

He asked you, looking almost sad as he spoke, “Do you—do you really not remember?”

When you shook your head in response, he gave a nervous chuckle and just decided to start from the beginning, “Well then, I guess I’ll just tell you.”

One of his arms around you moved so that he could cup your entire jaw with his hand, forcing you to keep your head turned upward while he talked to you, “Maybe you were too young to remember, but we always used to play together when we were kids.”

His explanation began, the smile coming back to his lips while he reminisced on the memories he had of your first years together, “Your mom would set you outside while she gardened nearby. She never paid enough attention to you—you always wandered off, just far away enough for me to come out of the woods without being afraid that she would catch us,” he paused for a moment to chuckle before continuing, “You used to call me ‘doggy’ and bring out this plastic ball; it wasn’t really meant for animals, but you just insisted on using it to play with me. There were little bells inside that jingled when you threw it and made me fetch it.”

He chuckled again, “Maybe you did see me as a dog back then, but that doesn’t matter now.”

You stared at him, semi-spaced out while you tried to remember his presence in your childhood. There was no memory of a wolf-human coming to play with you, the closest thing being when your nice neighbors would let you see their friendly Bernese mountain dog pup. Then again, there was a lot about your toddler years that you couldn’t remember anymore—maybe he just happened to be part of those forgotten moments.

Either way—it wasn’t important right now. The most important thing at the moment was figuring out who he was, and any way you could escape. Your previous relationship with him could come later—that is, if you stayed long enough. 

Before you could ask him for his name, he was already talking again, going on about your old times together. “You were so special to me. It hurt so bad that I had to stop seeing you when we got older but… it doesn’t matter anymore. Now that I'm old enough—now that we're finally together again…I’ll never let you go.”

He began to lean down, pursing his lips and getting ready to kiss you—not expecting the hand that slapped over his mouth when he got too close. He wasn’t even able to ask why because you were already talking, “What—What’s your name? I don’t even know your name.”

Despite looking a little disappointed from his attempt at kissing you being blocked, he responded with an indifferent tone, “Eren.”

After seeing you nod, his smile returned and he grabbed both of your wrists with his giant hands, ensuring that this time there was nothing to get in the way of his kiss. Desperate to avoid it, however, you leaned back as he leaned in—eventually hitting the bed and having nowhere else to turn. Even with everything inside of you screaming not to let him, you had no way of avoiding the moment his lips pressed against yours. He pushed your wrists into the bed too, successfully trapping you again, although this time leaving you feeling even more vulnerable than before.

You let him kiss you for a moment, hoping that he would pull away on his own. When he didn’t, you realized you would have to risk angering him to free yourself—and as much as his anger scared you, the thought of him going any further with you was scarier. 

Ripping yourself out of his grasp, you balled your hands into fists and shoved him in the chest as hard as you could, creating enough space in between you to curl your legs up, allowing you to kick him in the stomach. He tumbled back, groaning and grabbing at the already forming bruise. You wasted no time, getting up and trying to run—not even thinking about how close he was to you, the lack of distance allowing him to recapture you easily. There wasn’t even enough time for you to make it to the door before he recovered and pounced on you, grabbing at your injured sides so that you would instinctively curl up and focus more on getting his hands off of you. It made it easy for him to pick you up despite your squirming, taking you back to his bed and shoving you into it. 

You tried to sit up again, but he was quicker than you, pinning you down by your arms. His claws dug into your skin, only gentle enough that it wouldn’t draw blood—and he looked angry, growling and baring his teeth. It was more wolf-like than human, his eyes turning dark, reflecting a hint of red. 

Horrified, you shut your eyes and started to tear up—thinking he was going to claw your arms or face as a sort of punishment for trying to escape—but instead, he did nothing. He didn’t say anything either, not even when his anger finally subsided. He just stared—his eyes that reflected the color of the very forest he lived in piercing straight through your head. 

He was waiting—waiting for you to open your eyes so that he could make sure he had your full attention before making his warning. 

When you finally did, he grabbed both of your cheeks with one hand, squeezing them until your mouth was forced into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes met his, and he stared at you in silence for another moment before reprimanding you, “Don’t try that again. Ever.”

His voice was stern, contrasting his earlier, more cheery tone. 

“I’ll make it so you can’t run at all if you do.” 

The threat made a shiver run down your spine. He wouldn’t actually hurt you like that, right? Hopefully not. 

So distracted by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the hand sliding down to your thigh until it was being squeezed. It was anything but gentle, serving as another warning of what he would do if you tried to run again. Honestly, just the thought of his sharp claws digging into your thighs until it hurt too much to stand was enough to scare you away from the idea—at least until you found an opportunity where it was certain you could make it. 

“Got it, bunny?”

He snapped you out of your thoughts again, keeping his gaze on you until you nodded. Then, his smile returned, as did his happier demeanor—and he acted like it had never left in the first place. 

Letting go of you, he stretched back and yawned, giving you the personal space you needed. You curled up, holding yourself and rubbing your arms for comfort while Eren got up and made his way across the room.

“Are you hungry at all? It must be almost noon by now, you should eat.”

You shook your head, but he either didn’t see you or didn’t care, because the next thing you heard was the clattering of different containers and ceramics. Sitting up, you looked over and saw him digging out different kinds of meats, berries, and fruits—probably because he didn’t know what kind you ate—or if you even ate meat. It was obvious that he wasn't well-versed in the diet of humans, considering he didn’t even bother cooking the meat before he went to hand it over to you. 

Not sure what to do next, you just held the plate in front of you and stared at it. You couldn’t eat most of what was on it—you weren’t sure if you even wanted to eat any of what would be considered edible to people—there was no way to tell what had been adequately washed or not.

Confused, Eren waited a moment before asking you, “Is there something wrong? Do you not like any of it?” 

You shook your head, not bothering to clarify which question you were answering while you continued to hold the plate. After another minute of awkward silence, you finally explained to him, “I can’t eat raw meat. Or unwashed fruit.”

With that new information, his mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape, showing that he understood—or at least pretended he did. He took the plate back from you, staring down at the assortment of food to try and figure out what he was going to do with it.

“I guess I should cook and wash these then, right? Will you eat then?” He asked. You nodded, just wanting this to get through with the conversation so that he couldn’t keep using it as an excuse to care for you. 

After pausing in front of the wooden front door, he turned his head to look at you, carefully watching to see your response when he asked, “Would you be good? If I take you outside with me, that is?”

As much as he didn’t trust you at the moment, he thought that getting some fresh air might help you stay calm. And even if you did try to run, you would never be able to get that far before he caught you. The risk was low.

Without answering, you were already up and joining his side, eager for another possible escape attempt. You knew he would be watching you like a hawk, but that wasn’t going to stop you. Not if it meant you had even a sliver of a chance of being successful, you still wanted to try.

With a hum, he turned back to the door and pushed it open, revealing the misty forest clearing, everything still moist from rain. The idea of bolting past him and into the woods was at the forefront of your mind, but you held back—as painful as it was. You needed to wait until he wasn’t paying attention so you could get as far away from him as possible before he noticed your absence. 

He took your hand, dragging you outside and to the middle of the clearing. Pointing to one of several logs laying around what looked to be a small fire pit, he motioned for you to sit. When you did, he handed you the plate of food and went off to find wood, checking to make sure you were still there every 5 seconds.

It didn’t take long to gather enough firewood, considering you were surrounded by trees with plenty of broken branches lying beneath them. Eren returned quickly, arms full of different sizes of sticks that tangled together when he dropped them into the fire pit. Reaching for his pants pocket, he realized he left his box of matches inside of his cabin—meaning he’d have to either leave you alone or drag you back with him to grab them.

He didn’t even get a chance to think about what he was going to do before his solution was already walking right up to him. 

“Eren! Is this… the person you were talking about?”

“Armin! Yes, yes it is.”

His childhood best friend, Armin. He could watch you for him, definitely. 

Armin approached the two of you quickly, his shaggy blonde tail bouncing behind him. He was a lot smaller than Eren was but still big enough to tower over you—leaving you shaking in your boots at there now not only being one, but two dangerous werewolves you had to keep track of if you wanted to escape.

He slowed his pace, sauntering over to you to check out the person his best friend has told him oh-so-much about in the past. 

Stepping in front of you, he kneeled to meet your eyes—trying to make himself seem smaller so that maybe you would stop shivering at the sight of him.

“Hello!” He said, a small smile adorning his feminine face, “I’m Armin—like you heard. I know it’s difficult right now, but I’m sure you’ll adjust well!”

After he finished speaking, he placed both of his hands over yours—trying to encourage you to keep your spirits high, although it had the opposite effect. You didn’t respond or even nod—the anxiety inside of you forcing you to stay frozen in place. 

Turning around, he let go of you to ask Eren something, “Mind if me and Mikasa eat with you? We have our own food.”

Eren nodded, “Would you watch them for me for a second while I run to grab some matches?”

Armin gave him a thumbs up, taking a seat on a log near you while Eren ran off. Now you were alone with him. Great.

You shuffled your feet in the dirt awkwardly, praying that Eren would be fast. Armin looked past you, suddenly beaming while he waved his arm in the air.

That must be the ‘Mikasa’ he mentioned. 

She came from behind you, taking a seat next to Armin on the log. In her arms, she held a cloth bag—probably full of food—and an over-the-fire camp grill that was likely stolen from a nearby sporting goods store. She was beautiful, which honestly made you even more nervous than just the half-wolf part did on its own.

Fortunately for you, Eren was quick to return after Mikasa arrived, a box of matches in hand and a fistful of kindling. He lit the tiny twigs, tossing them into the larger pile and starting the fire. After a minute, the pit was engulfed in flames and burning brightly, emanating warmth on everyone surrounding it. 

Mikasa unfolded the portable grill, placing it over the fire and adding her’s and Armin's food onto it. She left an open spot on the other side of it for you, which you filled quickly with everything that was on your plate, including the fruits and berries that normally wouldn't be grilled. Eren gave you a strange look but didn’t say anything, just assuming that was how humans normally ate their fruit.

The following silence was deafening, nothing but the quiet crackling of the fire filling the air. You fiddled with your thumbs, eyes glued to the dirt to avoid any awkward eye contact. 

Eventually tired of the quiet, Armin spoke up, “So… are you going to tell your parents about this soon?”

After a moment of thinking, Eren shrugged, “I’ll probably just tell them when I get them pregnant—which shouldn’t take too long.”

You almost choked on air, whipping your head towards him and stammering out a pathetic, “Excuse me?”

Mikasa and Armin look equally as shocked, both of their mouths hanging open while they stared dumbfounded at their friend.

“Already? Eren you JUST got them—at least give them some time to warm up to you more!” Mikasa shouted, giving you a sympathetic glance.

“Mika, we’ve known each other since we were kids, you know this. It’ll be fine, they’ll have as many months as they need to get used to me—the faster we have pups the better. You know how—how competitive things get around here, and if they’re pregnant then everyone will leave us alone.” His tail was wagging aggressively side to side, brushing dirt into the air. The frown on his face spoke volumes, and so did his crossed arms that made him look like a pouty child—but you couldn’t help but also notice the sad look in his eyes as he spoke again, “I’ve waited too long for this. I don’t wanna lose my chance.”

After a long moment of silence, Armin picked up a stick and began to turn the meat over on the grill, just ignoring the solemn-looking Eren and the still stunned Mikasa. He turned your food over after, dropping the stick on the ground again.

The quiet after was even worse this time, everyone just staring and waiting for things to finish cooking. It didn’t take as long for the second side to cook, the meat turning darker in minutes. Both Armin and Eren dragged the food back into their plates with sticks, Mikasa dragging the grill off of the fire when they were done. She set it aside to cool off and sat again, blowing on the meat that Armin held.

When Eren handed his plate to you, you copied Mikasa and blew on the food to cool it before digging in. Armin and Mikasa ate mostly with their hands and mouths, both eating somewhat similar to the way dogs would. You were hesitant to pick up anything with your hands, nervous about the residue that it would leave. Instead, you offered some of the meat to Eren, just opting to eat the fruits instead. That was probably the safer option, anyways—and it left less mess on your fingers. 

You finished your meal faster than everyone else, being left to sit there and watch while everyone else was distracted by their food. 

Oh. They were distracted.

As you realized that, a thought crossed your mind. You could book it and run as fast as could, maybe making it to the edge of the forest before they could catch you. Or you could stay here sitting next to them—possibly missing the only chance you’d have to escape for a while.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to risk it. 

Slowly, your gaze drifted from Armin to Mikasa, and then to Eren—all still busy with their food. You carefully turned around in your spot, catching Eren’s attention for a split second before you moved closer to give him a false sense of reassurance. When you were certain that your footing was good enough to help you launch forward, you took in a deep breath and counted down from 3.

3… 2… 1…

You took off, trying your best to keep your breathing steady and ignoring the burning pain in your sides. You were ahead, managing to make it out of the clearing before Eren had even begun to chase you—although it didn’t take him very long after to drop everything and go sprinting after you.

The anxiety was growing now, knowing he was coming. His footsteps were loud, and so were his angry demands.

“GET BACK HERE! GET BACK HERE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

It was almost more horrifying than the sound of him catching up to you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He was going to catch you. You weren’t fast enough—your plan was backfiring. 

You weren’t even close to the edge of the forest, you underestimated how big it was. No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening. It was so obvious that you wouldn’t make it. Why did you even think you could.

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, the burning in your sides now spreading to your throat. Your legs were starting to hurt.

His grunts and growls were right behind you now, and before you knew it—he was tackling you to the ground and shoving your entire body into the dirt. He was so heavy on top of you—it hurt, it made you want to scream. You were covered in scuffs and bruises now, and you could feel the sticks scrapping against your skin and the dirt sticking to your wounds. 

Everything was blurred with tears. You regret ever thinking you could get away.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry!” You could barely choke the words out, feeling like you were suffocating with him sitting on top of you. You didn’t even have to look at him to know that there was a scowl on his face and he was barring his fangs—evident through his low growls.

“I warned you, I fucking warned you.” He snapped back at you, finally getting up but still not letting go of you—instead, pulling you up with him. 

Your legs shook beneath you, and there was a multitude of twigs and leaves in your hair and stuck to your clothes. You were so dirty.

“We’re going home. Now.” 

No. No, you weren’t. That damp cabin—den, whatever it was—it wasn’t your home, and it never would be—but you didn’t even get a chance to protest before he was already picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. His sharp claws dug into your hip, just a little lower than where the other marks on your sides were. You couldn’t even squirm, all you could do was cry and sob into his back as he carried you.

The walk back felt like an eternity. It was like he was moving slow on purpose, just to torture you. He didn’t even talk to you, it was just silent the entire time—although this was probably better than what you’ll have to face when you got back.

Mikasa and Armin were nowhere to be seen when you walked through the clearing. They probably left quickly to avoid any conflict, but you couldn’t blame them. You would too if you were in their shoes.

When he walked through the door, he slammed it shut behind him out of anger, leaving you even more fearful of what that meant for you if he was acting like that towards an inanimate object. You were tossed onto the bed, barely being able to let out your wail of pain before he crawled on top of you and forced himself in between your legs, leaning over you so you were stuck underneath him. He grabbed both of your thighs, squeezing them until his claws were just about to break the skin.

“No! No, No Eren, please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, Eren, please don’t!” You cried, pleading with him to not follow through with his earlier threat. 

“I warned you. I warned you, bunny. The only reason we’re doing things the hard way is because YOU didn’t listen.” His grip tightened, forcing a sob from your throat as he broke skin, “If it hurts too much then you can bite me. Just don’t be too loud, got it?”

Through tears, you nodded your head, just wanting to get it over with if he wasn’t going to change his mind. His claws dug into your thighs, piercing all the way into the muscle. Almost immediately, you bite down on his shoulder, letting out a shrill but muffled scream as you felt warm blood begin to drip down your legs.

It burned, it burned so horribly. You felt like you were going to be sick, your teeth starting to hurt at how hard you were biting down. It only got worse when he pushed his face into your neck and bit you back, forcing his fangs as deep into your flesh as they could go. 

Your vision began to spot, whether it was the amount of pain or the amount of blood you were losing—you were going to pass out if he kept going. Flashes of hot and cold passed through your body, making you feel like you were drenched in sweat even though the only thing you had on you was blood.

As your crying began to grow quiet, and he could feel your head slipping away from his neck, Eren realized that you were about to pass out. Quickly sitting up, he let go of your legs and stared down at you—your eyes were droopy, the rest of your body starting to go limp. 

He gently slapped your cheek, trying to keep you awake, “Hey, wake up. Stay with me, bunny. C’mon…” 

You groaned in response, shifting your body slightly. He questioned himself if he went too far, eyeing the deep gashes that were likely going to heal into permanent scars on your thighs. Compared to him, you were so small and delicate—he could kill you without even using all of his strength. Now he was worried. He needed to be more careful.

With a sigh, he got off of the bed and went to grab bandages—because if you were going to pass out on him, then he could at least take advantage of it by fixing you up without having to deal with your squirming. After cleaning and wrapping your neck and legs, he sat at the edge of the bed, staring at you with a sad look on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

  You woke up enveloped in a soft blanket, surrounded by a cozy warmth. As much as you wanted to snuggle into it, you had to open your eyes and make sure you were safe before you could relax. 

Yawning, you opened your eyes and took a moment to register what was around you before realizing that you were face to face with someone’s chest. More specifically, Eren’s chest.

His arms were wrapped around you, and you could feel him moving his arms around over and underneath you. You looked up to him, immediately being met with his gaze directly back at you. His eyes were red, and his hair was a mess. It looked like he had been crying.

“Eren?” You coughed after speaking, not realizing how dry your throat was. 

He just held you tighter, burying his face into the top of your head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have been so careless with you…” 

You stayed quiet, allowing him to hold you in his arms while he continued apologizing over and over. 

There was nothing you could say—no words of consoling that you could give without being a liar. You couldn't say it was ok. It wasn’t. You weren’t ok—but you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself by telling him that—so all you could do was stay quiet. 

Although, as un-okay as you were, you were oddly calm compared to before. It was strange, considering you would have normally already panicked and pushed him away by now—probably backing yourself into the corner and trying desperately to avoid him—but you had no temptation to do so. If anything, you felt at ease in his arms—which was undoubtedly a cause for concern in your eyes.

By now, Eren had calmed down, your scent managing to ground him rather quickly. This provided you with a chance to speak up.

“What—What did you do to me?” You asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t this calm before. What did you do?”

The silence he held for a moment after you asked scared you. You weren’t prepared for anything, no matter what the answer may be.

“I marked you.”

“You—You what?” You didn’t know what he meant by “marking,” but the implication of it was enough to make your stomach drop.

“I marked you. When I bit you—and you marked me, too. That makes us mates.”

“What do you mean by ‘mates?’” You pushed against him, creating enough space between your face and his chest for you to look up at him.

“We’re mated. Like… It’s like what marriage is for people, kind of. Except, a lot harder to break.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. He had to be lying. It wasn’t true. It couldn't be. The marks would heal in a few months and be gone forever, wouldn’t they?

“But what about—the marks will heal, won’t they? That can’t mean that we’re…”

“These marks are special, bunny,” He ghosted a hand up to your neck, feeling the bandaged wound with his thumb, “Even the one you gave me. They’re permanent.”

The small drops in the corners of your eyes turned into a river. Knowing that even if you were able to escape now—if ever—that mark would still be stuck on your neck—it was too difficult to cope with.

“No, no, no, please don’t cry anymore… You’ve cried enough today…” Eren cooed, pulling you close to him again, this time with his face against yours, his nose nuzzling your cheek. His comfort had the same effect on you that a mother holding her crying newborn would have, calming you quickly and managing to reduce your tears to sniffles in minutes. You hated it. You hated the comfort he was bringing you now, but you didn’t know how to stop it.

With your eyes now dry, you let out a shuddery, very exhausted-sounding sigh. Eren turned his head from you to the window, taking note of the orange glow outside. He retracted his arms from around you and sat up, catching your attention while he pulled his shirt off and handed it to you.

“The smell on this shirt should be stronger than the one you’re wearing. Change into it, it should help you stay calm while I go hunting.”

Hunting? He was leaving you to go hunt, right after all of that, with no other warning?

“What do you mean you’re going hunting?” You asked.

“We need food, don’t we? Every couple of nights, a group of us goes hunting at dusk. We bring everything back and split it evenly with everyone else. Tonight is a hunting night.”

“So… you’re just going to leave? And I’ll be here alone?” You started questioning how smart he really was if he was going to leave you by yourself right after you tried to escape.

“Well, sort of. I’ll send someone to watch,” He paused for a second, making you think he was done until you saw the petrifying look in his eyes, “Still, I think you know better than to run off now… right, bunny?”

You nodded, biting your lip anxiously while a shiver went up through your spine. He was right. Even if you ran away, the chances of him finding and catching you again were high. And if he did catch you then… who knows what he would do to you. You didn’t want to think about it.

Eren moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head so you looked up at him, “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

When you nodded for a second time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Unlike the first time he’d tried to kiss you, you were unable to block it, so you could only squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the moment to pass. His chin was prickly, like he’d shaved a few days ago and it was just starting to grow back—it irritated your face. Even when he pulled away, you had to scratch at your face because of the itchy feeling his stubble left.

“Thank you. I’ll be back as soon as possible. I promise.” He said while he backed away, keeping his eyes on you as he moved towards the door, making sure you didn’t follow him. 

When the door clicked shut, you shot up—but fell right back down onto your knees, forgetting about the injuries you had previously sustained. Getting up again was difficult, the ache in your thighs making you stumble as you clung to the bed for support. Instead of trying again, you gave up. Eren was right when he said he would make it so you couldn’t walk—you really couldn’t. Not yet, at least—with the still-fresh wounds on your thighs that made your legs feel like they would implode if you took even one step. 

You could always try again in a little while before he got back—depending on how your legs felt then. If they still hurt then, you could always wait until his next hunting trip, as much as you didn’t want to wait that long. There were always going to be more chances for you to escape, hopefully. It wouldn’t hurt to rest, just for a bit.

After pulling yourself back into the bed, you saw that Eren’s tunic was lying crumpled up in the center of it. He gave it to you to change into, so you might as well—it was better than the dirty one you were currently wearing anyways. 

You swapped your shirt for his, throwing the torn and dirt-covered one across the room after and curling up in the bed, wrapping yourself in the same blanket that you woke up with before he left. It was warm and cozy, filled with Eren’s scent. You couldn’t describe it well, but it smelt vaguely like autumn, along with different hints of dirt and pine needles. It was comforting, as much as you hated to admit it—and it was starting to make you feel tired. 

Your eyelids grew heavy, begging for sleep—even though you hadn’t woken up that long ago. Although if Eren was still going to be gone for a while, sleeping could always help pass the time. Getting extra sleep wasn’t a bad thing, it wouldn’t hurt. Shutting your eyes, you began to let the weariness take over, letting yourself drown in the comfortable warmth.

  “Hey… wake up… I’m back…”

You felt someone shaking you by your shoulder, abruptly pulling you out of your dreamland. Opening your eyes, you saw a blurry, shirtless Eren standing next to you. It took a few blinks for your vision to clear, and when you did you were finally able to look at him and mumble a slightly annoyed, “What?”

Eren chuckled at your half-asleep irritation, seating himself next to you to rest his legs, “I’m back.”

“Welcome.” You retorted, turning away from him and cuddling into the blankets again. He smirked a little, moving on top of you and putting all of his weight on you. Startled and mistakenly thinking he was trying something more perverted, you started to squirm underneath him, which only led to his arms tightly wrapped around you.

“I was so worried about you while I was gone, and now you’re being all cold to me?” He asked, letting out a very loud and overdramatic sigh, “So mean.”

You finally shoved him off of you and onto the floor, pouting and giving him a dirty look as he stood and laughed at your annoyance. As you looked at him, you started to take notice of things that you didn’t before. 

He was extremely fit—the muscles in his arms and torso were toned, allowing you to see them clearly even without him flexing. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of hair on him that you could see, your eyes trailing from his chest down to his abs and hips. The only place you could see any hair was his happy trail, which started right underneath his belly button and slowly got darker the further it went south. There was a bit of blood on him, too—mostly on his hands and around his face, neck, and chest. You didn’t question it much—he was just hunting, after all.

Eren caught notice of your gaze on him and decided to tease you a little in response. He interrupted your stare, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up so that you would look at him, “My eyes are up here, bunny.”

Almost immediately, your face became hot and you could feel yourself growing flustered. You could feel heat begin to pool in between your legs, and you almost thought that Eren could tell with the way his eyes widened right after. Truthfully, with his heightened sense of smell, he could tell, but he didn’t want to embarrass you or make a fool of himself, so he kept quiet.

He tried to brush it off, turning his head to the side and looking out the window to try and hide his growing blush, “We—We should both take a bath… There’s a lake nearby with clean water, and I have soap. You can clean your bandages too.”

If you took a bath with Eren that would mean seeing all of him. The thought alone made you shiver. However, you did need it, especially after being forced face-first into the dirt—and so did he based on the sight of him. You could put up with seeing him naked if it meant cleanliness.

“Okay.” You replied to him, making your way to the edge of the bed. Before you were able to get up, he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“I’ll carry you. Your legs probably still hurt, right? It’ll just be better if I carry you there.” 

After you nodded, he got on his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him before shifting his hands to your butt. He stood up slowly, making sure to hold you tightly.

“Put your arms and legs around me, that’ll make it easier for me to hold you.” He asked, pulling you up more and intertwining his arms to hold you better. You did as told, wrapping your limbs around his torso and neck and clinging on. 

You shut your eyes, leaning against him as he made his way across his home and out the door. It was cold outside, goosebumps scattering over your skin in uneven spots. Feeling you shiver, Eren moved one of his arms from under you to around your upper body, rubbing his arm up and down on your back to try and warm you. 

“We’ll be there soon. It isn’t too far from here.” 

The sound of leaves and sticks crunching under his feet came to a stop soon after he said that, signifying that he had reached the lake. You opened your eyes and twisted your neck to try and look, although you were barely able to see the bright moon reflecting off of the water in the corner of the lake. 

“I’m going to put you down, ok? I’ll be careful.” Eren said, waiting for your nod in response before he dropped to his knees and gently placed you on the dirt and grass. He stood up again, patting you on the head before stepping away to start stripping. You whipped your head around quickly, not wanting to see him fully exposed. Because he only had his pants and shoes to take off, it wasn’t long before he was nude—walking up behind you after to inform you that it was now your turn to strip.

He promised not to look, although it wouldn’t matter much anyway. In a few minutes—when you were both going to be submerged in the lake—he would need to keep an eye on you for your safety.

Getting your shirt off was easy, but your shorts were another story. You slid them off oh-so delicately, afraid of being too rough and hurting your already injured thighs—you really didn't want to delay the healing process any more than you already might have earlier; when you tried to get up after Eren left.

Once everything you wore was off and discarded into the same pile as Eren’s clothes, you covered your chest and called for Eren to help you into the water. He turned around to face you—fully prepared to assist you—but froze. You stared at each other, both processing the sight of each other completely bare. 

His tail began to wag involuntarily, exposing his excitement. While he drank in every little thing about your appearance that he could see, you did the same—your eyes trailing down his body like earlier—only this time there was nothing to get in the way of seeing where his happy trail led.

Your eyes followed it, all the way down to where it turned into a larger but still nicely trimmed tuft of hair before—

Holy shit.

He was huge. 9 inches at least, and that was soft.

Your entire body felt warm at the sight of him, your lower regions especially. You had to take in a deep breath just to ground yourself, and even then, you couldn’t get rid of the warm feeling inside your core.

Eren seemed to notice where your gaze went as well, considering his face was now a bright red, and his eyes were blown wide open. He could feel the arousing building up in himself—so, in an effort to hide it, he ran to you and scooped you up, quickly getting into the lake and walking to where the water was waist-deep. 

You shivered in his arms, not expecting him to move so fast into the freezing cold water. Next, he set you down slowly, making sure you would stay standing before he let go. When you were stable on your feet, he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before turning your stiff self around so your back would face him. 

“Stay still while I grab the soap.” He told you, wading past you in the water and going back to the pile of clothes in the grass, digging around until he was able to pull out a bar of soap from his pants pocket. He made his way back to you after, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your head, “I’ll wash you. It’ll be easier for me to reach places you can’t. I promise I’ll be careful, so don’t worry.”

Nodding, you held your arms around your chest even tighter than before, just to be cautious if he was planning anything. You heard him dip the soap into the water and then press it against your back, the cold bar making you squeak and arch your spine. Your reaction made Eren chuckle for a moment before he began to wash you, continuously dipping his hand into the water whenever the bar felt dry so that it remained wet enough to eventually form suds.

The grip he had on the soap was strange, using the sides of his fingers instead of the pads to hold it, keeping his claws pointed away from you to keep you safe. After your back was clean enough, he moved on—scrubbing shoulders and upper arms. He didn’t want to risk your discomfort, so he carefully avoided the wet bandages and anything near your chest, simply handing the bar to you when he was finished so that you could wash those areas yourself.

You did so quickly, barely letting any suds form while you scrubbed away, rinsing everything off after and using your arms to cover yourself again. Eren asked if you were done, to which you nodded and handed him the bar, watching as he began to copy what he did to you, this time on himself.

With him distracted, you were able to examine his body once more. He faced away as he washed himself off, allowing you a nice view of his back muscles. Watching them flex and move was mesmerizing, the muscles stretching with the different ways he bent his arms. Part of you was curious about what it would be like, to be picked up and held in his huge arms while he—

The warm feeling came back. This time, it was even stronger than before.

You could feel yourself throbbing. You knew you were aroused, but it was so much more… intense than it usually was. Your entire body was hot, and it felt like you were burning up. Right now, it was probably a good thing that the lake was cold—because it was the only thing keeping you from overheating. 

Everything felt so intensified, and you felt like you were going to collapse into the water. You needed to get out—maybe sit down for a minute or two.

You treaded through the water, making your way to Eren and poking his back. He flinched, obviously not expecting anything to touch him, and turned around to look at you.

“Eren…”  

Your voice was shaky and unstable, your body shaking. You were going to ask him to carry you when he finished cleaning up, but you froze. Something was off about him. His eyes looked like they were glowing, and staring straight through you. 

Slowly, he turned his body towards you and wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t know how to react, just frozen in place while he leaned over you. He buried his face into you, his nose stuffed into the crook of your neck.

“Eren? What—what are you doing?” “You smell… so sweet.” 

He grazed his claws over your back, making you press yourself into him with your spine arched. It took everything inside of him, every ounce of self-control he had to keep from picking you up and taking you right then and there, in the middle of the lake. His sniffing was starting to tickle your neck, making you squirm.

“Eren…”

He didn’t respond—instead, beginning to back you up towards the shore. Eventually, the water was back to being well below both yours and his waist, going just above your knees and exposing everything. Instead of eventually backing out of the lake, you hit a ledge, almost falling onto it—if Eren hadn’t stopped pushing, you would have. He instead stepped back, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around, pushing your upper body forward so that you were bent over it with your legs remaining half-submerged in the water. 

Confused still, you tried to stand up again, only to be stopped by his hand on the small of your back, holding you down.

“Ere—Eren!” You squeaked out, abruptly feeling him press the palm of his finger against your clit. It hit you then, that he could tell what you were feeling—and he probably knew the reason you felt that way too. 

Your entire body shook, your knees feeling weak and wobbly like jello. Eren didn’t stop, beginning to rub in small circles. He kneeled, one hand on the back of your thigh and the other wrapped around your leg to reach your heat. Being face-to-face with your cunt now, he was able to see how wet you were, your pussy swollen and begging for something inside of it. 

“Eren—Eren… please, I—” You stuttered out, feeling the warmth worsen throughout your entire body. 

“Shh, shh. I’ll take care of this.” He interrupted you, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on your ass. 

This was embarrassing, to be bent over the side of a lake by someone who stole you away a few hours ago, with his face so close to the most intimate parts of you. 

You covered your mouth, trying to silence the tiny whimpers that came out when you felt his breath on your cunt. He moved closer, slowly sticking out his tongue and dragging it down the slit of your pussy. Moving his other arm around your leg, he managed to put both of his thumbs on either of your outer labia, spreading your lips apart and taking another long lick.

If it weren’t for him, you would have collapsed onto the ground by now. His tongue moved back to your clit, flicking it a few times before dragging back to push into your entrance. Involuntarily, you pushed your hips back into him, begging for more friction. He pulled away, much to your dismay, making you whimper from the sudden cold breeze.

“You taste so good—you taste so good.” Eren panted, continuing to play with your folds and nudge your clit with his finger. He unwrapped one of his arms and closed his hand into a fist, only his middle and ring finger left extended. Carefully, he put the two claws into his mouth and bit down, effectively snapping the sharp nails off. After spitting them into the water, he moved his hand back to your pussy, feeling up and down to gather as much of the slick as he could before pushing his fingers in up to their first knuckles.

“Eren!” You cried out, your arms giving out and leaving you with your head buried in them against the dirt. 

His ears perked up, and you could feel him lean to the side to try and look at your face, “Are you ok?”

“Yes—Yes I’m ok. Please, please, please keep going.” 

Never before had someone putting just two fingers in you felt good. Even touching yourself hadn't. It was like your sensitivity was in overdrive, every ounce of contact you had with him had you melting. Not to mention, his fingers were massive, the two of them alone being longer than the average dick. 

As he pushed them deeper, you could feel yourself squeezing the digits, especially when he had driven them in to the third knuckle. You almost couldn’t control yourself, your shaking hips grinding back and forth on his fingers.

“Move them, move them, please. Please.” You begged, starting to feel irritated like there was an itch that he just wasn’t reaching—an itch that desperately needed the satisfaction of being scratched.

Weak to your pleas, Eren was quick to retract and thrust them back into you, using the thumb of his other hand to massage your clit while he did. You whimpered into your arms, rocking with the motion of his hand to force his fingers as deep as they could go. 

“So desperate—so wet too. Is this really all because of me?” He asked, making your embarrassment grow tenfold. Despite the intention of his remark being teasing, he ended up sounding unsure, almost in disbelief that he had managed to make you so worked up. Even when you nodded in response, he still wasn’t quite sure. 

“All this, because you saw me naked? Even with a soft dick?”

You nodded again, whining when he stopped moving his fingers to focus on standing up and leaning over you.

“Well, would you like to see what it looks like when it’s hard?”

You almost bashed your head into his chin with the way you stood up so fast. He chuckled at your eagerness, pulling his fingers out of you and giving you room to turn around and see him.

When you did, your mouth fell open, and you could feel yourself throb again. The need was almost starting to hurt, your entire body begging for you to let him rearrange your guts. Such a thing would be an easy task for him as well, with his cock being almost as big as a ruler. There was no way you would be able to fit it inside of you when the time came, surely—but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see how much of it you could take.

From the thick tuft of hair right above the base of it, the slightly curved shaft seemed mostly even, only a few veins protruding and the girth only increasing slightly around the head. The tip was pink and leaking precum, pleading for a pretty pussy to penetrate and fill—your pussy to be more specific.

With a shaky breath, you reached out—only to be stopped by a hand gripping your wrist. When you looked up to Eren to see what was wrong, you were met with his beet-red face, his brows furrowed and his teeth clenched. Despite looking angry, he wasn’t—just struggling to hold everything in. He needed you desperately, and it felt like if he didn’t have you soon he was going to explode. But he didn’t want to do it out in the lake—he wanted your first time together to be at home in his bed, which is why this situation was so difficult. 

 “We need to go home. Now.” He said, sounding urgent and demanding. He knew if he didn’t get home with you soon, he’d end up losing it and fucking you against the ledge, which he’d definitely regret after. Before you could question how you’d get home while he was sporting a hard-on, he was already picking you up and making his way to shore. Instead of putting his clothes back on after shaking the extra water off of himself, he picked up the pile and held it over his crotch, positioning it so that he was holding the clothes with one arm and you with the other. You didn’t even get a chance to complain about how overly exposed you were, or how you didn’t want anyone to see you nude, because he was already rushing back home, leaving you to pray that nobody was outside tonight.

With no interruptions, you arrived back at his cabin quickly, getting dropped onto the bed almost immediately after he reached it. The clothes were discarded to the side, freeing his hands and allowing him to pull you to the edge of the bed and position you the same way you were at the lake—bent over the side of it with your knees on the floor.

He got on his knees behind you, grabbing your hips and sliding his cock in between your legs. You shivered at the contact it made with you, the base of it pressing against your pussy and the length going over halfway up your stomach. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling where the tip of his cock was against your stomach and letting out a breathy sigh.

“Shit, that’s gonna go deep, huh…” He dragged his fingers up through the middle of your chest, and then straight back down again. He moved his hand under his shaft, reaching your clit and beginning to rub it up and down with his middle and index fingers. 

“Do you think you can take it?” He asked, “I don’t want to end up hurting you.”

“Yes, Yes I can take it, Eren. Please, give it to me, please.” You pushed your hips into him, trying to move them closer to his fingers and cock, desperate for any kind of stimulation he had to offer. He hadn’t given you enough, and you just kept wanting more. You needed to be filled, fucked—something—or you might end up going feral.

When he pulled his hand and cock away, you prepared yourself to feel the tip of it push against your opening—but instead, you were met with his tongue again. This time, he had turned on his back and moved underneath you with his head on the bed, right below your cunt, allowing him easier access to your clit. As much as you wanted something inside of you, being able to grind your pussy against his face was enough for now, if that’s what he was willing to give. He lapped at it, flicking the swollen bud over and over with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it to suck. 

You buried your face into the sheets, embarrassed by how many lewd noises came from your throat. His arms found their way around your legs, one grabbing your ass, and the other—the one with his two cut claws—moved to finger you again. 

Your cunt was covered in his spit at this point, mixed with your slick and helping to lubricate your pussy for what was to come later. The ache inside of you grew larger, even as he ate you out and made you see stars. You needed something bigger, you needed all of him. Every inch you could take. 

“Want more, ‘ren. Please.” You begged with a shaky voice, tears cascading down your cheeks. His fingers weren’t enough anymore, and you were desperate.

He pulled his fingers out of you and moved from underneath you, turning himself upright and getting back onto his knees behind you. As much as he wanted to give in to what you wanted, he was still so afraid of hurting you. You were so tiny next to him, there was no way he wouldn’t tear your insides trying to put himself in. 

“Promise you’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He grabbed your hips, trying to hold you still while he slid the tip of his cock up and down your soaking cunt.

“Yes, Eren, I promise! Please! Please, please!” You tried to push yourself back onto him, not realizing you were only preventing him from penetrating you.

“Then hold still. I can’t get it in when you squirm like that.” Eren grimaced with frustration, eventually pushing your upper body down into the bed so that you wouldn’t move as much. He finally managed to slip the tip in, giving him time to reposition his hands on your waist for better leverage, “I’m putting in as much as I can. Ok?”

You nodded, taking in a large breath and preparing yourself for what his cock might feel like inside of you.

Carefully, the head breached your opening, his length slowly beginning to fill you up. As it did, both you and Eren melted into each other, your back arching so you could take more of him in while he began to lean over you, his chest resting against your back, allowing you to feel every pant from him. 

He was stretching you out, stuffing every inch of himself into you. Barely more than halfway in, and he was already close to touching your cervix. You were crying, begging for more, begging for him to give you more and more. He could barely hold himself up, the warmth of your tight cunt being almost too much for him to handle. How pathetic, to think that he was so close to cumming, and yet hadn’t even gotten one thrust in.

Using one arm propped up on his elbow for stability, he slid his other hand across your body and underneath you, gliding it across your chest and all the way to your lower stomach. He pressed down gently, pushing himself more and more until he could feel a bump form against his fingers.

“So deep, isn’t it?” His words came out in pants, sending a shiver up your spine and making you squeeze around his cock. After letting out a choked moan, he managed to push himself up again, pressing his length the rest of the way in until it reached the hilt. 

“I'm gonna fuck you pregnant. Gonna put some babies in you so everyone knows that you’re mine.” He placed his hands on your waist, sliding his hands up to your shoulder blades, feeling around them, then dragging his nails back down to your hips. Thin lines were left in place of where he had just scratched you, and instead of the usual whimper in response, it made you shudder and cry for more. 

His remaining claws dug into your skin, not deep enough to hurt or draw blood, but enough to keep a good grip on you. He pressed his hips into your ass again, forcing you against the bed before he pulled out halfway and fucked into you again.

Immediately, he picked up the pace and continued rutting into you, forcing the bed to bounce with his actions. You squealed and whimpered, your mind growing numb and dizzy as he continued. 

It felt amazing, like all of your sensitive spots were being touched. The itch was finally being scratched. He filled you up perfectly, his cock reaching all of the right places—you wanted to sob from how overwhelming it was. It was perfect.

“Hah—Eren! Please! Please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” You repeated the word over and over like it was the only thing you knew, begging for him, pleading for him to keep giving you what you needed, to keep taking care of you like he said he would.

“Please what, hm? Please—pant—what? Tell me what, tell me what you want.”

“Cum in me! I—I want—I wanna be full! I wanna be full of you…”

“You do, hm? You want me to—want me to fuck you full?”

“YES! Yes! Please!” That seemed like the best thing in the world right now. 

“You better be certain than, cause once I start I—I won’t be able to pull out.” His grip on your hips tightened, and he could feel a knot begin to form at the base of his cock as his thrusts grew uneven.

“Yes, Eren—I need it, I need it!” You started to move your hips with his, helping him hit even harder than before.

“Alright baby, alright.” He groaned out the last word, feeling dangerously close to tipping over the edge. With your pussy clenching him so tightly, he wasn’t going to last long—but he wanted you to cum first. Wrapping his arm around you, he moved his hand down to your cunt, pressing two fingers to the bundle of nerves and moving them. 

The slow circles on your clit combined with his hard, cervix-kissing thrusts were enough to begin your release, your pussy convulsing around him while you lost control of your sounds. Your entire body twitched and jolted as you came, an assortment of moans, cries, and pants spilling from your throat. 

“You coming? You coming?” 

You nodded.

“Yeah? Good. Good, good girl.” He slapped your ass, likely leaving a bruise before he leaned over you, holding himself up by his elbows and putting all of his energy into fucking you. You could see his arms on either side of your head, the muscles flexing as he moved quickly. 

“I’m gonna cum—fuck, fuck, you better fucking take it all.” He pushed himself as deep into you as he could, getting in three more hard thrusts before he bottomed out for the final time, his knot getting stuck inside of you while he unraveled. Not being able to pull out this time, he continued to rut and grind his hips against yours to keep the stimulation going, milking as much of his seed out as he could while mumbling for you to take it all—which you did. 

With his body leaned over you—almost laying on you—and his head next to yours, he buried his face into your neck, getting a big whiff of your scent before chomping down on your shoulder, right next to the mark he’d left before. It made you whimper, feeling his teeth dig into you just like they had before, but this time it was a nicer feeling of pain—one that was more soft and clouded by lust instead of pure discomfort.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest before he relaxed on top of you, sending both of you into the bed. His mumbles stopped soon, and his hips stilled against yours when he was finally done emptying into you. After a minute of relaxing in the sweaty, sticky pile containing you and Eren, you began to squirm, growing tired of being crushed by the heavy werewolf. With his knot still stuck inside of you, he chose to roll over instead, turning you to face him and leaving you on top of him—it was still a little uncomfortable, but at least you weren't as hot as you were with him on top of you. 

As you sat on him, his length began to grow, the feeling of the tip pressing against your cervix becoming increasingly less pleasing and more and more painful.

“Eren? Are you—“ you paused, shifting around awkwardly while trying to pull him out of you, finding it nearly impossible with the way he was swollen inside of you, “Are you going to pull out?”

He moved his hands over your thighs, carefully brushing your bandaged wounds, “I told you I wouldn’t be able to stop, didn’t I?” 

A nervous laugh was all he could muster, trying desperately to keep you from becoming uncomfortable now that your heat was beginning to wear off. 

“Oh. So you meant—you were being serious when you said…” You trailed off, looking down to where your bodies met. 

“Yea, I was. It should go away soon, though! Don’t worry—we can get some food after and rest a little before your heat starts up again.” His hands moved to your waist, tracing his hands up and down your hips.

Your brows furrowed together with confusion, “My—My what? Again?”

“Well… shit, it’s a little complicated, but—since I bit you, and since we’re…well, mated,” he stopped his awkward ramble for a second, trying to think up a good way to explain the mess that was a werewolf’s heat, “you’re going to start getting affected by more… werewolf things. You won’t look like one, obviously, but some of your hormones are going to be like ones.” 

Cocking your head, you leaned your head forward slightly, trying to give him a cue to continue.

“My dad told me about it when I told him I had my heart set on you as my mate…” His cheeks burned red, and his eyes drifted off to the side, “My mom was a human. Is—she still is, I mean. That’s how I know so much about this.”

Sensing him beginning to drift into another topic, you asked again, “Eren, what was the thing about hormones and heat?” 

“Right, right, sorry. Basically, werewolves go through heat cycles in the spring, and a bunch of things can trigger it. Usually, when it starts, it can be really hard to stop it. The only way you can is by mating—and even then, the relief is only temporary. The only way you can really stop it is—well…”

“Is what?”

“Getting pregnant, usually. Unless you want to wait for it to pass, which can be really painful, I've heard.”

This time, after his explanation, you stayed quiet, looking down at his chest and trying to process what you just learned. He had essentially given you two options: Get pregnant or wait for the agonizing cycle to complete.

Noticing your discomfort, Eren cupped your cheek and tilted your head up so that you would look at him, “My mom says that it got a lot better after she had me, though, so maybe it’ll be the same for you.”

His attempt to comfort you backfired, ending with tears on your end, crying about not wanting it, and him sitting up to hold you as you crumbled. By now, the swelling that had locked you together died down, allowing him to pull himself out of you. A slew of semen spilled out of you and onto his lap as you did, making you feel like a disgusting and sticky mess.

“Don’t cry, please… It’s going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. Please, please… No more tears.” He held your face, pushing his forehead against yours while he wiped your tears. “We can eat and then rest, right? We’ll rest as long as you need to.” 

After pushing your head into his shoulder, he fell back on the bed, holding you close while he pet your back and head. You were quick to calm, his body wrapped around yours providing a sort of comfort that was still new to you—a feeling of peace and home. It was hard to cry with that warm feeling in your chest. 

A few minutes of silence passed with Eren petting and holding you, allowing you enough time to relax so that you weren’t crying anymore, even when he got up to grab your clothes and a rag to clean you. When he returned to your side, he slipped his arm underneath your back to hold you up, handing you his shirt and telling you to put it on while he cleaned up the excess cum that covered your thighs. You did as told, changing into the clean shirt and watching him throw the rag into the heap of dirty clothes that he dropped on the floor earlier. As you stared at the pile, you realized that this would be your fourth time changing shirts today—and his third. 

“You change clothes a lot, you know.” You commented, pointing to where all of his previously worn shirts lay. 

Eren looked from the clothes to you, chuckling a little while he put on—what would hopefully be—his final change of clothes for the day, “Heh, only today. Normally I only change after bathing or if my shirt gets ripped, today was just special!” 

Tilting your head to the side, you questioned him, “Special? How?” 

“Because today’s my first day being with you since we were kids.” He responded with a small smile, sitting back on the bed and pulling you into his side. Your cheeks burned, and you pushed against him gently.

“Is it really that special?”

“Of course it is. I’ve missed you for years, why wouldn’t it be special? You're finally mine.”

Your face felt even hotter, but not like it did during your heat. 

“Stop it, Eren… Just go make me food like you said you would. I’m getting hungry.” You pouted, crossing your arms and trying to hide your fluster. 

“Aw, alright. Since you asked so nicely.” He got up, kissing your head and ruffling your hair before going to grab things out of the many jars and boxes he had, plating it all and heading for the door, “I’ll be outside by the fire pit; call if you need me.”

You nodded and watched him leave, barely even realizing that he was trusting you enough to be alone with the door unlocked. Escaping came as a secondary thought, and you didn’t bother to question it. You were too distracted by the comfort—the comfort of Eren, his presence, and his smell. It was overpowering any sort of negative feeling you had before. 

With a sigh, you buried yourself into the blankets and sheets on the bed, relaxing into the softness of it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay like this for a while, drowning in the solace that you had here. You could always escape later, so why not enjoy this feeling while you had it. 

Just as you were about to shut your eyes and let yourself drift to sleep, a loud bark echoed from outside of the cabin. You sat up, listening for a moment to determine if the noise was a one-off occurrence or if something was happening outside. You heard the pitter-patter of a few raindrops hit the roof, but nothing else. After a minute passed with nothing else, you just assumed that maybe Eren had been startled, or maybe he got overly excited and barked at something—but all of those ideas went down the drain when you heard it again. This time, it was louder, and much more aggressive-sounding than before. And then, there was another bark—one from someone different. 

Worried, you got up and hurried to the door, your thighs thankfully not aching as much as before—well, the injuries on the outsides of your thighs that is. You pushed against it in a rush, swinging it wide open to see what was going on and if Eren was in danger.

The already wet dirt was beginning to flood as the second rain of the day poured down, turning into mud that caked Eren and another werewolf as they wrestled and fought on the ground. The food that Eren had previously gathered for you was scattered across the dirt, some of it crushed underneath the two fighting werewolves.

Eren was covered in dirt and blood, both his own and his opponents. Gashes, scratches, and bite marks covered his body, telling you how viscous this fight was—for it to wound him so badly in just a few minutes.

You watched as they tackled each other, tearing at each other’s skin and gnawing at the other’s limbs. Although you wanted to scream, to run and throw yourself in between them to stop the fight, doing such a thing would only lead to your demise—so all you could do was watch as they mauled each other. Eventually, the stranger was pinned to the ground, being able to do nothing but kick and bark while Eren continued to attack him. 

Unable to handle watching the battle anymore, you screamed for Eren, waiting for him to look at you before you went inside, slamming the door shut and leaning all of your weight against it. You began to cry, praying that Eren would be able to get away from whoever was out there fighting him. The numerous questions you had about why he was fighting could come later, right now you only wanted him to be safe. 

Something rapped against the door, startling you away from it. You scurried back to the bed on all fours, hiding underneath the blankets while staring daggers at the door, hoping that the next person to come through it would be someone familiar to you. As it swung open, the wood bashed against the wall forcefully, making the house shake. You let out a cry, squeezing your eyes shut and praying that when you opened them, Eren would be the one there.

The door was shut, and you listened to the sound of footsteps approaching you carefully. A large hand was placed on your back, and before you could react with a scream or shout—he spoke.

“It’s ok. It’s me, bunny.”

Your eyes shot open, and you launched yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He flinched as your arms touched his wounds but still wrapped his arms around you, petting your head as you held onto him. 

You pushed him away, eyes scanning over his body while you made note of every injury and bruise he had.

“You're bleeding, Eren…” 

“I know, I know. Help me get bandaged up… please.” His voice was hoarse as he spoke to you, making his weakened state even more obvious. He pointed to a box that sat on a wooden shelf against the wall opposite to you, “They’re in there. Please get them for me.” 

Nodding, you were quick to stand and rush to the shelf, opening the box and digging out a roll of bandages along with a few other first-aid supplies, such as a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a rag to clean him off. He sat on the bed, hunched over and panting while tugging off his ruined clothes and throwing them into the trash with everything else that had been tarnished that day.

“So much for that being my last change of clothes.” He joked, trying to lighten the heavy mood before he pointed to a large vase in the corner, “There’s some water in there. You can dip the rag in it to get it wet.”

You walked over to it, taking off the ceramic lid and placing it aside, dunking the cloth into the water inside of it. You rang it out after, flinging it over your shoulder and walking back to where Eren sat. He lifted his head, sitting up straight when you arrived at his side. When you began cleaning him, he couldn’t help the small sigh that left his mouth, the washcloth pressing against his skin and scrapping off the drying mud and blood was already making him feel better—especially because you were the one doing it. 

“Thank you.” He brushed a hand over your cheek, catching your attention and stopping you from your task for a moment. His thumb grazed over the curve of your cheek while he admired you, a glimpse of relief and sadness in his eyes. You were more important to him than you would ever even begin to realize, and the fact that he could have been so close to losing you during that fight had cemented that fact—making him feel even more possessive over you than before, a strong desire to keep you safe with him overpowering any rational thought. 

You nodded at him, continuing to clean his wounds with the wet rag. After you had wiped down as much as you could, you folded the rag in half and doused it in the rubbing alcohol, going over all of his wounds again to clean them. Eren clenched his jaw, hissing at the stinging feeling that followed.

Working quickly, you managed to finish in less than a minute, allowing you to move on to bandaging him. He lifted his arms, giving you room to wrap the bandage around and pull it tight against him. 

This process took longer, wrapping each limb individually in a way that still allowed him to move was a lot more time-consuming than just running a soaked cloth over everything. You moved in front of him, continuing to cover his wounds while he watched you. It was almost eerie, having him watch your every move so carefully, not being able to tell what he was thinking.

As you finished wrapping the last of his injury, he moved one of his arms around you and pulled you into his lap, letting you finish tying off the bandage before he rested his head on your shoulder. You did the same, resting on his and snuggling into him. He smiled, holding you against him securely and relaxing with the comfort of you in his arms. 

Moving a hand up to your open shoulder, he began to trace over the bite mark in the crook of your neck. He smiled to himself, the proof of you being his mate putting a warm feeling in his chest. His mark had worked to bind the two of you, but whether you had figured that out yet or not, he didn’t know. He wanted to tell you.

“You know, you seem a lot calmer with me than you did before.” He began, deciding that the best way to bring it up was subtly so that you wouldn’t freak out. 

“I guess I have.” You replied, tracing your finger over his shoulder blade, “Haven’t really thought about it that much.”

“Ah, I see.” There was a pause while he thought, deciding what he should say next, “Do you remember earlier—when I was talking about how your hormones are going to change and stuff?”

“Yea, I remember.”

“Well, it affects more than just your sex hormones, you know.” As he finished speaking, he braced himself for your response.

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” You shrugged it off, trying to ignore the fact that he now had a large influence over your emotions, whether you wanted him to or not. You could come to terms with it later, but for now, it was easier to just ignore.

Your answer was unexpected to Eren, but he didn’t want to push it any further, deciding to just leave it be for your sake. After that, he allowed you to steer where the conversation went, and if it continued at all.

“Does the fight you got into have anything to do with hormones, Eren?” You asked him, trying to get back onto the topic of the fight so you could figure out what caused it. When he let out a sigh in response, you began to regret asking—thinking you’d upset him. Feeling you tense up in his lap, he placed his hand on your back and massaged up and down your spine, reassuring you that things were ok.

“I guess that’s part of it,” He began, wrapping his arms around you again and holding you even tighter than before, “That other guy… He’s always been really pissy over other people having mates because he could never get one. He’s always starting fights over it, trying to ‘win’ the other person’s mate so that he could have one too. I didn’t expect him to be out there, and I thought I would be able to ignore him, but… he could smell your heat on me and it made him really aggravated. He kept saying these… disgusting things about you, and joking about how he’d take you from me when I wasn’t looking so I just—I snapped.”

With his face shoved into your neck, you could feel his tears soaking into your skin. You moved your hand to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp and massaging gently, trying to comfort him. You heard a whimper from him, followed by a few hiccups as he started to cry. 

“I’ve waited so long to have you. I can’t handle the thought of losing you—I just—I just got you. You’re mine. You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else to have you.” He nuzzled into you more, trying to force himself as close to you as he could get, “You’re mine. Mine.” 

His hands pressed against your back, nails beginning to dig into you while he mumbled possessive things. You began to squirm, growing uneasy with how close he was to making you bleed again—but he stopped, pulling his head away from your throat and sliding his hands from your back to your front, moving them up to cup your face. 

With all of your attention on him, making sure to use the softest voice he could muster while tears flooded his eyes—he asked you, “Promise me that you’ll never leave me. Promise you’ll always be mine.” 

He looked desperate for a response, but reluctant to answer, you gawked at him. As the seconds passed, he grew more distressed with your hesitance, growing visibly more upset the longer your reply took. As much as you wanted to, his sad puppy-dog eyes and the fear for your safety made it difficult to deny him—so you didn’t. You gave in.

“I promise.”

Relief flooded his face when you said that, the tears finally leaving his eyes and a small smile coming to his lips. He pulled your face against his, pressing your lips together and kissing you with everything he had. You didn’t fight it, your hands previously in his hair falling to his shoulders. You relaxed into each other, both of you leaning into the kiss. Eren ran his hands back to your shoulders, down to your arms, and up to your wrists, grabbing them and moving them to his face.

When you caught on and held his face, he let go of you and moved his hands down to your thighs, rubbing them gently before sliding them to your back again. With one arm holding you against him, he rolled over and pressed his body against yours, continuing to kiss you while you were pinned underneath him.

He caressed your face, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss further and get an angle that allowed him to get even closer. His thumb rubbed against the curve of your cheek, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside; you were so comfortable in his arms. 

When he pulled away, it was only for a second to breathe, and then his mouth was back on yours, holding you there for as long as he could. A few more minutes of him repeating the process, and you began to feel him becoming wound up. The more he kissed you, the more he pushed against you—and the more he pushed against you, the more desperately he seemed to cling to you. 

The kisses began to grow shorter, but so did the pauses between them, allowing him to kiss you over and over as his body pressed against yours. His tail was wagging back and forth, increasing in speed the more he relaxed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into his hair again and scratching behind his furry ears. Feeling nothing but pure bliss, he let out a satisfied moan and practically melted on top of you, the burden of holding up his body weight falling to you. 

His mouth continued to press kisses on your cheek, trailing slowly to your jaw. Your body tensed as he kissed down even further, reaching your neck and pausing his journey to give some more attention to it. He laid a few pecks here and there, scattering light kisses across your throat before finally deciding on a spot to ravage. First, his sharp teeth grazed over the spot, tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps all over. With his lips puckered, he latched onto you, harshly sucking at your skin and leaving a deep bruise. When he was satisfied with what he’d left, he abandoned it to join the rest of the marks on your neck, moving on to kiss your collarbone.

He moved off of you, maneuvering himself around until he managed to get into a position in between your legs. With his hands now free, he was quick to cup your face, giving you a peck on the lips before speaking, “Please—let me make you mine. More than you already are. Please, let me take all of you.”

His hands slid down your neck, moving to fondle your chest through your shirt, “I’ll let you have me too. I’ll let you have anything you want. Just—Please. It’s all I want. You’re all I want.” 

You could feel your face heat up, tears welling up at the idea of what being his could mean. Every sensical thought you had was being pushed away, your instincts—poisoned by his bite and clouded by your returning heat—inclining you to give yourself to him. In any other situation, you would say no. In any other situation, you would have already escaped and run away, giving no second thought to the werewolf that kidnapped you. In any situation where he hadn’t already bitten you, you wouldn’t think twice about rejecting him—but that wasn’t this. 

You only had one answer to give, lifting your hand up to his face and holding it delicately, “You can have me, Eren.” 

With your consent given, he smiled and his tail began to smack against the bed over and over, showing how excited he was. A little rougher than before, he was already groping and squeezing your breasts, growing eager to take you again. His crotch was pressed against yours, allowing you to feel the way his length grew as he touched you, struggling to become fully erect in the tight confines of his underwear.

Your body already felt hot again, a feeling similar to what Eren called your “heat” before. It grew more intense with each second, every touch or grind against you sending a strong wave of euphoria through your body. 

“I’ll take such good care of you, bunny.” He said, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head. He threw it to the side—planning to come back for it later when you were done—and grabbed onto your chest again, pawing at your tits and rolling his thumbs over your hardening nipples. He grew rougher, grinding his hips into yours and moving one hand away from your chest, allowing him access to kiss your now unoccupied boob. 

Eagerly, he popped the nipple into his mouth and lapped at it with his tongue, moving it around and flicking it. Already sensitive enough to his advances, shivers went across your body, and you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him, whimpering as the warmth began to pool in between your legs.

He sucked on it, gently pulling on and rubbing the other nipple with his fingers. You whined quietly, back arching so that your chest would push further into him, your brain so high on dopamine that all you could think about was the pleasure you were receiving. There was no way to take things slow when you were this excited. 

“Eren—Eren, I want—want more.” You begged, your body starting to shake with need.

Eren pulled away from your nipple, but only for a second so that he could speak, “Now now, you have to be patient. I want to keep touching you. I said I want to take all of you, so I intend to touch all of you too.”

With a few more whimpers and squirms, you gave up on asking for more than suckling, because that was all he seemed to be focused on at the moment. He finally pulled back from your tit with a ‘pop’, eyeing the spit-covered and swollen nipple before beginning to kiss down your stomach, sliding both of his hands down to your thighs to spread them apart. The heat from your cunt could be felt on his chin as he reached your clit, his eyes never leaving yours as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking on it and reveling in the whines and cries that left your mouth. He held your waist, his arms underneath your legs and hands on the curve of your hips, slowly rubbing up and down and thumbs massaging them leisurely.

You could see his tail swaying, a clear sign that he was enjoying his time between your legs. A small giggle interrupted your whimpers while you moved your hand, threading your fingers through his hair and petting him. He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling his mouth away for a moment before switching to using his tongue, lapping and flicking the bud. 

Your body jolted, the grip you had on his hair tightening, “Eren!”

He didn’t stop, the licks going from just on your clit to the entire slit; his tongue dragging up your cunt to taste how wet you were. It turned you into putty in his hands, and it took everything inside of you to not squeeze his head with your thighs and suffocate him with your pussy. 

His grip on your waist grew, allowing him to pull you closer to his face and push his tongue into you. One of his hands moved to your groin, his thumb pushing against your clit and rubbing it up and down. The stimulation made you twice as sensitive, his tongue buried inside of you making you feel like you were drowning in bliss.

“It feels good, Eren. It feels so good.” You cried, grasping his head with both of your hands. He nodded, trying to rub his thumb even faster to milk more cute noises out of you. Your legs began to shake, your back arching as you absentmindedly ground your hips against him. You were getting close, you could feel it. The feeling pooling in your core was familiar—you were getting close.

“Eren—Eren, I’m going to—”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, being interrupted by Eren pulling away and sitting up, “No, you aren’t.” 

Taking advantage of the temporary space between you, he ripped off his underwear and crawled back to you, situating himself in between your legs again with his cock sitting in between your thighs, “You’re not going to cum until I’m fucking you so deep that you can feel it in your stomach, got it?”

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from being denied your orgasm, but you tried to ignore it. The sooner you could get him inside of you the better, and if you started crying that would undoubtedly get in the way. 

“Yes—yes, sir.” You nodded fiercely, wriggling your hips and trying to turn yourself over, just assuming that his preferred position was doggy style because that’s the position you were in before. To your surprise, he stopped you—a hand on your waist pushing you down so that you couldn’t move.

“Don’t move. I want to see your pretty face this time.”

Your face grew even hotter than it already was, feeling flustered at his compliment. When you nodded, he smiled at you, cupping your cheek again and leaning down to kiss you. He was trying so hard to be gentle, especially knowing that he struggled to be most of the time. You smiled back at him, putting your hand over his and lacing your fingers with his.

He kissed you again, again, and again, finally moving back and sitting up all the way, letting go of your hand. This time, he focused on getting inside of you, grabbing his length and moving it back to your pussy. It was a small struggle to get the tip lined up with your opening, but when he did, he pushed it in hastily. He ended up forcing more in than just the tip like he intended—another example of how rough he was without meaning to be—but you didn’t seem to mind, your head thrown back with your eyes squeezed shut, letting out an abundant amount of moans and whimpers into the palm of your hand.

You watched as he continued pushing into you, barely giving you any time to adjust. With how wet you were, it went in easily, allowing you to watch a bulge form in your lower stomach in real-time. For a moment, you thought you would pass out with him so deep inside of you, already so close to touching your cervix—but you managed to stay awake through heavy panting, allowing him to keep pushing deeper and deeper. 

What really sent you over the edge, though, spiraling into a mess of high-pitched whimpers, was when he pressed his palm against the bulge, stroking your pelvis and groaning at the feeling of his cock so deep inside of you. You managed to wrap your legs around him, locking him in place and pushing him closer to you—eliciting a long, drawn-out moan while you squeezed him so tightly that he thought he was going to cum right then. He struggled to pull himself out, wanting to stay buried in your warm pussy—but if he didn’t, he might finish a lot sooner than he intended to. As he did, making sure he left only the head inside, you let out a loud whine, begging for him to put it back in. 

With little warning, he thrust his hips into yours, pushing everything back inside of you swiftly. After that first thrust, he began to move more steadily, keeping his hand pressed to your lower abdomen to feel himself fucking into you. Your slew of moans every time he buried himself back to the hilt were like music to his ears, urging him to go faster—to fuck you until you were a crying, shaking mess, begging for him to pull out because you couldn’t take anymore.

“Feel good?” He asked.

Your response came out as a whine. 

“Use your words, bunny.”

“Yes—Yes, feels so good Eren!” You gasped, feeling your entire body shake as his cock stretched you out over and over.

He moved his hands, grabbing your waist and lifting it up with little effort—allowing him to get even deeper with the new angle. You grabbed onto the blankets underneath you, crying out his name and trying to move your body in sync with his, making your tits bounce as he picked up the pace. He managed to hook his hand underneath you, allowing him to continue holding you up while he used his other hand to rub your clit, sending a wave crashing over you as he repeatedly hit your cervix. The pain felt good—so good that you felt like you were going to melt as an orgasm ripped through your body, making you cry out for Eren while your legs spasmed. 

You weren’t given a chance to rest, Eren instead dropped you and leaned over your body, putting his face close to yours as he continued to pound into you. He licked the tears that fell from your eyes, grabbing one of your hands and pinning it next to your head with your fingers intertwined together.

“You’re so fucking pretty. So so pretty—and you’re all mine,” he leaned into you, groaning as he ignored how sore his legs felt in favor of fucking you faster, as fast as he could manage. You were forced to ride through your orgasm, being pushed to another one quickly with how tender you were now. You felt so full, like you were packed to the brim with his dick—everything felt so warm and satisfying. 

When you finally managed to open your eyes, you were met with Eren’s half-lidded, piercing green ones. Both of you were panting, sweaty, and sticky messes, but that didn’t stop you. You wanted more—and you both got it. Eren’s face was red, and you could tell that he was getting close—his thrusts were growing sloppier, more uneven—and you felt a knot forming at the base of his cock, just like you had the first time. You begged him to put it in you, spreading your legs as wide as you could without feeling like your tendons would tear, making it easier for him to hit just hard enough that the bump could slip into you too. 

With only a few more thrusts, his hips finally stuttered and snapped into yours one last time before his orgasm, his cock pulsating inside of you as he emptied his cum into you. 

Before he could stop himself, he was already stuttering out, “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me who owns you. Who do you belong to,” his judgment clouded by his arousal. 

“You, Eren! You, I belong to you!” You cried in response, your brain too filled with pleasure and longing to comprehend what you were actually saying.

He kept his hips grinding against yours, forcing himself to bear the overstimulation in favor of pushing you through the final release that you were begging for. Despite not being able to get any deeper than he was now, he continued to push, driving the head of his dick into your cervix again and again until your legs were shaking, wrapped tightly around his waist and holding him in place while you went through your climax.

After it was all over, he laid on you, head buried into your neck while you both panted and gasped, desperate for rest after expending so much energy. You used your free hand to lace your fingers in his hair, combing through it and comforting him after the taxing activity. His nose nuzzled against your neck, his breath tickling your throat and making you let out a small giggle—which made you smile. 

As your heats faded, he was able to pull himself out but stayed on top of you, cuddling into you and holding you tight. You pet his head, shutting your eyes and relaxing under him, welcoming the comforting heat he emitted. 

A couple of minutes passed, allowing both of you to catch your breath and unwind—and while doing so, the sticky mess in between your legs became more and more noticeable, but you were trying to ignore it in favor of staying cuddled up to him. Eren, however, had other plans; assuming that the abundance of cum spilled all over your thighs was uncomfortable for you, he got up to get something to clean you off with—much to your dismay. 

You whined for him to come back, but he blew you off with a chuckle and continued to search for a rag. He moved quickly, not wanting to make you wait any longer than you had to—wetting the rag, ringing it out, and returning to you in seconds. After wiping your legs down and chucking the cloth with all the other dirty clothes, he jumped back into bed and pulled you into him. You nestled against his chest, content with your position until you felt a hand on your stomach, stroking it up and down as gently as he could. 

“Do you think it worked?” Eren asked, sliding his hand over your tummy in slow circles. 

Biting your lip, you put your hand over his and responded with hesitance, “I forgot about that.”

You leaned into him more, shutting your eyes and letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. It was so easy to forget the reason you were here when you were intimate with him, and now it was biting you in the ass. There was very little chance that you would be able to make it out now, especially if you did end up pregnant. Even if you did, god knows what lengths he would go to to find you again. You were stuck.

Eren noticed your tears and immediately jumped into action, wrapping his arms around you and petting your head. He cooed sweet words and meaningless reassurances, managing to calm you with little effort.

You wanted to hate him. You really did—but physically, you just couldn’t. All because of a stupid bite mark. At least, that’s what he says is the cause.

It hurt. It truly hurt, but there was nothing you could do about it now. You were stuck; like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf—you were helpless. You would never see your family or friends again—at least not anytime soon. All you could do was learn to accept it, or at least pretend to. 

So that's what you did, curling up into Eren and wrapping your arms around him as he covered you both with a blanket, squeezing your eyes shut while you tried to sleep. He held you there, relaxing with your presence.

“I love you, bunny.”

“I love you too, Eren.”

taglist; @brinex @Sashaisahoeee 

#tw: yandere #tw: breeding #tw: knotting #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: a/b/o #tw: marking #tw: size kink #tw: stockholm syndrome #tw: stomach bulge #tw: yandere themes #tw: hybrids #ch:erenj #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren x reader smut #eren x reader #yandere eren x reader #eren x you #yandere eren jaeger #eren jaeger x y/n #eren smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren jaeger smut #tw: dubious consent #tw: dubcon #werewolf eren #werewolf eren jaeger #forest fics

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant 11

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: I expect we're near the endgame now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

Clark lands with an impact that makes your skull rattle. Your ears ring as the world around you smears. He lets you go and you stumble away. He keeps you off balance as he grabs you again, spinning you as you whimper helplessly.

He rips your hoodie down your arms, tugging it free only to use the sleeve to restrain your wrists. He keeps you facing away from him, forcing you to your knees as he shoves his knee into your back. He puts you on your stomach and bends your legs up, securing your feet with the other sleeve so you’re facedown in the dirt.

You heave as your tears spring out unchecked. He parts from you, his soles mulching the dirt as your sobs echo. You squirm until you fall onto your side, bound helpless as you let your horror mount to frantic screams.

“Help! Someone!”

He hushes you and bends to grip your jaw. You quiet, choking on your voice as you look past him. Canopies of leaves ripple above him, you smell water nearby, a freshness that lends a coolness to the air. He snarls and drags you across the ground, placing you against the brush along the jutting rock wall.

“Scream all you want. No one out here.”

“Please, Clark, please,” you plead through pathetic babbles, “I didn’t–why– why did you– Richard—”

“You promised you loved me. That you would never hurt me–”

“I was scared–”

“You lied to me,” he growls as he paces back and forth, “you betrayed me!”

“No, no, I was just afraid. I was afraid you’d hurt me, Clark, honey, I swear–”

“Hurt you?”

“You’re married,” you whimper, “I knew we could never be together–”

“I know.” He grits out as he stops to face you, his eyes glowing eerie crimson, “you know. Lois is dead. This was our chance and you ran–”

“Dead? Clark–”

“Stop lying,” he barks, “I can hear your fucking heart amp up every time you do. So stop.”

You sniffle and shudder in the dirt. Prickly vines poke at you as you give in to the futility. You’re not getting away this time. Your lashes are webbed with tears, adding a soft glare to your vision. You look up at Clark and pout.

“I can be better… please,” you beg. “What are you going to do to me?”

He raises his chin and stares up at the sun. You murmur and curl your fingers into your palm. You wait in the deafening silence of the moment. The chitter of birds and scramble of critters is dulled by your dread.

“Make you better,” he says as he spins to face the sprawl of trees.

He clutches his fists tight and a sudden rush of air blows over you as he zips up into the sky. It feels as if the earth lurches beneath the force of his departure. You fall back against the rock wall, leaning your elbow on it as you gape up after him.

“SOMEONE!” You screech, even as you know he’s right, that no one will hear, “SOMEONE PLEASEEEEEEEE!”

🖊

Your lungs burn and your throat turns raw. You have nothing left. Your fruitless screams die as you lay in the dirt, wriggling only a few inches this way or that. Twigs and pebbles jab through your clothing and the dewy patches of grass stain the fabric. 

This is it. This is the end. The sheen of disbelief slowly fades. That denial that it couldn’t be real. You are just an intern and he is just a journalist. A lonely man looking for company where he shouldn’t. No, he is a murderer. You witnessed it. You’ve seen the rage in him, you felt it, the insatiability that cannot be denied.

More than that, he is inhuman. He is something else. He is lauded as a superhero yet lurks like a villain behind the mask of Clark Kent.

You quiver and let out a deep heave. Breathless, exhausted, defeated. You let your head rest on the ground as the warmth of the sun pools over you through a gap in the branches above.

Sweat beads over your forehead and dampens your cheeks. It gathers beneath your clothing and trickles along your neck and back. You languish there in the beating of the summer heat and wait. For what comes next. For the inevitable.

As resignation sets in, your fate doesn’t seem so scary. Death is a finality. It is an end. It means that you will be free, even if that freedom is nothingness. There is relief in knowing that those weeks of torture have come to a head. You’ve met the climax and now you’re in the falling action, plummeting towards the finale.

A gust sweeps over you and the earth shakes. You let out a yipe at the flash of colour and the clatter left behind. In a second, he is gone again, whooshing up into the expanse as the din of the forest resumes. You look over at the large ax leaning against the cliffside, a hand saw beside it, and few other tools you can’t place. What?

He returns, surprising you again. The clunk of a heavy chest hits the dirt. You flinch and try to turn your body. The effort leaves you hollow as you manage to roll against the jutting rock wall. 

Several more hurtling trips and Clark finally stands still, curls mussed from the excess but otherwise unshaken by his efforts. He grabs the ax as you stare at the wrapped packages of insulation, the bucket of plaster, and litany of materials. It can’t be–

He approaches a tree and swings the ax. He cuts through the trunk with a single strike. He lifts the gargantuan tree with a single arm and tosses it behind him. It bounces and rolls to a stop on the soft ground. He does it again, and again, and again. He clears at least a dozen trees without a glance or word in your direction.

You linger in stupefied silence. He approaches the pile of trees and pulls one out. He is little more than a blur as he works at breaking them down into neat planks. This has to be a nightmare. The distortion, the unreality of the moment can’t be true.

You gulp and lower your head. It makes you dizzy to watch him. You listen to the furor of his labour. The zip of the saw, the crack of the ax, and the rhythm of a hammer. When you peek over again, vision hazy with the beaming heat of the sun, there is a foundation built.

You shudder and blow out through your dry lips. You try to wet your mouth but your tongue is arid. You will against the ground, crushing your shoulder as you clench and unclench your fists.

You’re stunned by a sudden grip on your jaw that brings your head up. You nearly choke as Clark puts a bottle to your lips and pours water into your mouth. Your body gulps it down greedily as your thoughts remain disjointed and distorted.

He backs up and pulls the stump of a log over to sit across from you. He drains the last of the water and brings forward a paper bag. He doesn’t say a word as he reaches inside and takes out a granola bar. He wraps it and leans forward to offer it to you.

You stare at him. He presses it to your lips. You turn your face away.

“Eat,” he demands.

You sniff and push your head back against the side of the cliff, “why are you doing this?”

He sighs and retracts his arm. He breaks off a chunk of the bar. He doesn’t answer you.

“Clark, what are you doing?” You croak.

He gets off the log and comes closer, nearly straddling you as he drops onto his knees. He grabs your skull, turning your head straight, and forces the granola into your mouth. You murmur as he holds your jaw in place and your stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Eat.”

You don’t resist. You chew and swallow. He takes another piece and jams it through your lips; he does it again and again until the wrapper is empty. He backs up and perches again on the log.

You watch him as he looks over at his work so far. A whole wall built. It's not hard to guess at the goal, but you don’t understand why. Why doesn’t he just kill you? Like Lois. Like Richard.

“I’m building us a home,” he says as he drops his head into his hands and scratches along his hairlines, “just you and me.”

He sits up and combs his hair back. He stands and dusts off his palms. He stretches and peels off his shirt, revealing his broad chest and thickly muscled stomach. The hair along his torso speckles with his sweat.

“It must be done by nightfall,” he declares as he marches away.

You turn your attention back to the endless forest. You stare into the daunting sprawl and deflate. It isn’t a home he’s building, it’s a prison.

🖊

The house is complete. Clark carries you through the front door and puts you against the wall, just beneath the window. The interior is barren. No furniture, only a gaping fireplace and a small hoop anchored in the floor.

He unties you and stands over you, watching you as you sit up. Your shoulders and knees throb from being locked the whole day. He bends and pulls your left leg straight, he closes a metal cuff around your ankle and pushes a bolt into place. You kick your foot in fright as he lets it go and a chain clanks loudly as he lets it unfurl.

He attaches the other end to the loop in the floor. You whine and get to your knees.

“Clark, please, what are you doing?”

“I can’t trust you,” he sneers, “it’s for your own good…” he stands and looks above you, to the window, “you would only get lost out there.”

“No, please, you can trust me–”

He raises his hand and you quiet. You sit back on your heels and clasp your hands together. He shakes his head and waves you off, striding away without another word. He goes through the open door as you focus on the chain, touching the links in dread.

He returns and unzips a sleeping bag, spreading it over the floor. He leaves again, coming back with pillows and another blanket. He backs up, hands on his hips and looks over the makeshift set up.

“Tomorrow I will find a bed. Other things,” he turns and approaches the fireplace, resting his hand on the mantle above, “I will start a fire for the night. It’ll be cold soon.”

You want to scream. You want to wail. You want to call him a monster, tell him that he’s insane. But you know that won’t make this any better. You let go of the chain and raise yourself on your knees. You crawl on the blankets and make yourself small as you sit against the pillows.

“Thank you, Clark,” you squeak as you pull off your shoes and place them to the side.

He keeps his back to you, bowing his head as he sighs. Slowly, he shifts and glances over his shoulder. His eyes meet yours and he drags his hand off the mantle. He faces you as you carefully recline.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says grimly, “but it has to be like this. Just for now.”

“I know,” you say as you wince and rub your shoulder.

He sniffs and reluctantly turns away. His steps are lighter as he goes back through the door, returning with an armful of split logs. He stacks them by the fireplace before he works at starting a fire. You listen to his efforts and close your eyes. Only to hide, not to sleep.

The scent of the fire fills the cabin and he pulls the door shut. He nears and his shadow looms over you. He tugs on the blanket as he climbs down next to you and swoops it over you as he wraps an arm over your middle. He draws you closer, his breath fanning across your hair.

“I know you’re scared but one day, you’ll see,” he rumbles as he bends his arm, fondling your chest. Your stomach knots as he presses his pelvis flush to you, “I saved you… like you saved me.” 

His hand trails down and you hold your breath. His fingertips touch the top of your jeans and he pauses. He brushes his arm back up and embraces you again.

“Not tonight,” he resigns glumly, “I don’t forgive you yet.”

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #the assistant #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dc #superman

[maximotts]

wanda pissing on u bc she needs to mark her territory teehee <3

This is 1000% sorority president!Wanda behavior and yes it did serve to derail me from editing the last few paragraphs of my fic to write these few paragraphs but I mean look at her, she’s so hot and possessive

Like, lounging around in her room with some other girls, but Wanda sees you paying too much attention to one of them and not only does she rip you away from the conversation, but forces you to move to her bed so she can sit on your lap and have to all to herself.

And eventually she’s wriggling around so much you can’t even watch the movie anymore, but she’s already mad at you so you don’t dare say a thing about it. Wanda just refuses to leave you alone for one second with the others for fear you’ll get up and start hanging out with them instead.. You’re used to her getting off on you too so you don’t think this is anything different until she’s already done it and you’re so blindsided you fall out of off the mattress, large wet spot clear as day on your borrowed sleep shorts.

“What a fucking baby, pissing all over us like you don’t know any better.”

You’re so dumbfounded you can’t say anything back, but when everyone believes her and starts giggling amongst themselves all you can do is wait for Wanda to yank you off the floor and into the bathroom, gripping your arm so tight it’ll definitely bruise. “Don’t you dare tell anyone or I’ll spank your pretty ass raw in the living room until you actually do wet yourself for everyone to see.”

Which yes, does scare you for a little until she gives you a nice big kiss before turning on the shower, “It’ll be our special secret, little sis.”

#the only reason wanda is allowed to be in the mentorship program is bc she’s the president I stg #shes so.. gaslight gatekeep 💀💀 #sorority!wanda #mini thoughts. #anon asks. #answered.

[st-danger]

Okay but do they make Dew piss please I must know.

A continuation for you! Part one linked above))

Hysteria rises, bubbling up and choking. He can hardly breathe; the sounds Rain and Swiss are pulling from are involuntary and uses up what little sips of air he's able to take.

He doesn't mean to- he never intentionally cries- but they've been too mean for too long and his lashes are damp. Wriggling, fighting, sobbing out pleas for mercy- all on deaf ears. Swiss reminds him once again he's asked for this.

And he has.

"Stop- stop, please, Rain-"

Swiss snuggles him then, holding just as tightly as before, but really nuzzling him. Affectionate, one might say.

"Oh sweetheart," Swiss smiles, the gesture bleeding into his tone, "we can tell when your no's mean yes."

"Oh no, oh stop, stop, I'm gonna- please, please," Dew wheezes, sounding flayed and raw.

Sometimes he surprises himself with the depth of his depravity, the depth of his masochism. He's having a truly terrible time, and he'll be ready to ask for the same treatment as soon as tomorrow, he's sure. A glutton for punishment; if only he didn't love it so much.

If only.

Rain focuses all his attention on his head, the frenulum and the hair on the back if Dew's neck prickles, a neat little rush of anticipatory dread.

"Cum or piss, up to you." Rain says it so calmly, so reasonably that Dew could see himself agreeing with it.

He cries out, shaking, protesting while Swiss murmurs encouragement into his ear. Gives the lobe and his neck a wet, sloppy kiss- not and easy feat with the amount of struggling Dew is doing.

He's so tired. Swiss is too strong and he is so tired and he is getting absolutely nowhere at all.

He mewls and goes riged when he feels the familiar lack of control, a rush of heat and-

A spurt of piss he can't tense enough to hold in, and Rain gives him one more vicious polish and withdraws his hands.

He fights it for a moment more, thighs tensing, the muscles jumping, but too little too late. He loses the fight, and an arc of piss shoots out, messy everywhere without a hand to aim it.

The reaction from Swiss and Rain is immediate and richly approving, and the relief he feels, the nasty, sick pleasure he derives from letting them see something so private, making a mess- it's equaled only by the flare of shame that burns in his chest and on his face.

He's whimpering, too tired to struggle, too defeated. Swiss is so hot and hard against his back, and Rain-

Rain is reaching for his cock once more. Dew can't even find it in himself to flinch, but does manage to watch him aim his cock towards him, so Drw can spray all over Rain’s stomach and thighs.

"Fuckin ' filthy," Swiss moans. Rain closes his eyes, luxuriating in the warmth and Dew gives a pathetic little hiccough once more. "That's so good. Get him all wet," Swiss continues, and the satisfaction and sickness wash over him as wonderfully as ever.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #dew ghoul #sodo ghoul #dewdrop x swiss #rain/dewdrop #dewdrop x rain #dew/swiss #dew/rain/swiss #sodo/swiss #sodo/rain #rulti #swiss/rain

[seungisms]

[02:36] “You’re doing so well sweetheart. Just a little longer.” Chan’s soft praise were littered with groans, the deep ruts of his hips becoming increasingly sloppy as he fucked you into an almost dreamlike state - watching your eyes become glossy with unshed tears as your cunt lazily clenched around his cock, raw and sensitive from his endless torment. He laid a large hand on the expanse of your tummy, feeling the soft bulge of his dick against your skin with every sharp thrust, dragging deliciously against your slick walls. You could barely form a coherent response, silenced to mere mewls, only able to focus on the cock that was fucking you so well and dumb and the obscene sounds of you wetness coating his length each time he pulled out of your hot cunt - only to fuck into you even deeper than before. The hot knot in your belly practically begged you to finally cum, but each whispered word of encouragement coaxed you to hold on even longer; no matter how much you wanted to spill onto him. 

Chan absolutely loves having you like this, fussing beneath his strong form and desperate for every inch of him to fill you up, rutting your hips cutely to meet his own and pouting in defeat once he easily overpowers you; looking oh so adorable as the hope of finally getting to cum slowly slips from your pretty eyes in fat droplets against your cheeks. He could tell you were completely fucked out, pussy wrapping snugly around him as he continued to stretch you out so well, hair mussed and fanning across the sheets and lips looking so cute, swollen and practically devoured from hours of his biting kisses. You were so close, trying your absolute hardest to hold out for him and be the good girl he loved to claim you to be. Sweet praises tumbled from his lipstick smeared lips like a prayer, the taste of your slick still stetted on his buds from hours before, sense completely overflowing with you and only you. God, he was so obsessed with you. 

You’re convinced you’ll never get over how good Chan is with his cock, filling up every empty part of your tight hole and making sure you felt each and every dent and curve of his dick. He could swear your pussy was made for him. And your wetness just looked so pretty to him, especially as it started to drip out past your folds with every nudge of his length, leaking onto the once pristine sheets and staining it with your need for him. 

Your body was quick to collapse as soon as he pulled his cock from your throbbing cunt, slowly stroking himself a few time while taking in the sweet sight of your spent form, tits perked and heaving with every gulp of air you struggled to breathe in, legs spread wide open on either side of his hips - giving him a nice view of your used slit, raw and sensitive and looked after so well.

He wondered how a sight so sinful could look so heavenly.

“You’re such a sweet girl for me.” You whined at his praising tone - only ever wanting to be a good girl, his good girl - a low groan cutting through his words as thick white coats of cum spat from the blushed tip of his dick, landing so beautifully on your clit. You could hardly find it in yourself to move, only able to jolt slightly once he dipped his head down, breath suddenly fanning over you slit, a choked cry leaving your lips as his hands circled around your waist to keep you still, licking your poor cunt clean of his own liquids. You swore you could’ve cum right then and there again from the sight.

His excessive stimulation on your heat sprung tears to your eyes once again, attempting to wriggle from his grip while he sucked on your folds, the sensitivity of your tormented pussy becoming far too much for you to bare; but one warning slap to your slit was enough for you to behave. Chan continued to lick you clean, watching fondly as you arched further into his mouth, hands clawing at the sheets and his hands that were still holding you down, searching for any kind of support as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your core. No matter how much you protested and begged for him to stop, you absolutely loved having his plump lips on you in any way, shape or form.

Chan grinned against your heat once you fully slumped against his touch, deciding you have had enough and finally leaving your abused cunt alone before tugging you close, bare chests pressed tightly together, tucking his face into your neck and leaving soft kisses against the hot skin with the same lips that were devouring your pussy moments before. You swear you’ll never get over this mans duality. 

“You feeling okay honey?” He gazed at you through pretty lashes, sleep starting to weigh on his lids but no amount of exhaustion could stop him from ensuring you were well taken care off and comfortable; he’ll be the first to admit he’s whipped. You hummed softly against his shoulder, still holding his strong body close to your own and fingers tracing the soft skin of his back, the feeling of being so well looked after and his cock slowly softening against your thigh coaxing you in and out of slumber. 

“Do you need anything? Some food?” You simply shook your head, lips pressing lightly against his shoulder blade to silently let him know you were fine and to cease his worrying, using the last of your strength to softly brush the damp strands of hair away from his eyes when he pulled away to gaze down at you affectionately, the amount of love seeping out of his stare almost making you want to hide away in embarrassment. But you would never hide away, not from him. 

“Maybe just a cloth? You made quite a mess down there.” Chan flushed as soon as he registered your teasing words, eyes trailing down your body to see that while he was busy cleaning up your pussy, he had completely neglected your thighs - the plush skin claimed in his thick white seed. His eyes snapped back to your face in shame, the tips of his ears burning red as he began to lift himself of your body - ignoring your whines at the lack of warmth despite you being the one to make the suggestion in the first place - rushing to the bathroom with burning cheeks. You found it quite cute how shy he still was, even after pounding you into the mattress moments earlier.

“Nice ass!” Chan huffed at your comment, wondering how you still had the energy to be the most annoying brat he ever met (that’s including Jisung) even after the dicking down he just gave you. He was quick to return with a wet wash cloth, gently dabbing at your sore thighs to rid you off his cum (as much as he’d love to see you painted in it for a little while longer.)

“Shut your mouth and let me take care of you dumbass.” You hummed sleepily at the feeling of his soft caresses, a stark contrast to the rough torment he just put your body through. 

“You know I love you, right?” His sudden confession startled you. Chan was never shy about dropping his love for you out of nowhere, always making sure you knew how head over heels he was for you - you just never expected him to be so cheesy while wiping his spunk from your body. But damn, didn’t he look like the most endearing fucker ever while doing it. You almost wanted to make a joke out of the situation, but his soft eyes and gentle touch against your aching body as he finished cleaning you up had you biting your tongue, whispering out your shared affections against his lips as you pulled him in for a chaste kiss, wanting nothing more than to worship him in your love for hours on end. But you supposed you could wait a day or two so you could actually recover from being fucked dumb on his cock so relentlessly. 

“Love you too grandpa.” Your boyfriend sighed at your words, finally slipping the sheets over your bodies and tucking you into his strong chest, the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his chest coaxing you to sleep. Chan absolutely loves moments like this. No members, no cameras, no schedules. 

Just the two of you. 

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

#barely any aftercare in this and i absolutely hate the ending :((( #will probably go back and edit this at some point sorry guys ! #please leave feedback/your thoughts <333 #stray kids smut #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz drabbles #skz reactions #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan scenarios