#trap sound packs

[killerchickadee]

So ever since I started at my store I've been like, wow I hear a lot of emergency vehicle sirens for 5 in the morning, and also the sirens out here sound weird? Like why do your sirens sound almost like coyotes?

Sound on. Spoiler alert: it's coyotes.

#like now that i live in a city sirens at 5am doesn't seem weird to me #so i didn't really think much of it #even though we're way out in the suburbs #like there's a million speed traps on the road so i guess i thought it was that or something #like hey dumb shit it sounded like coyotes cause it was coyotes #also i have to walk out there alone in the dark to throw out pallets or talk to the truck driver #so that makes me feel great #i know coyotes rarely bother people but still #don't want to be out in the dark with a pack of them

[lokis-army-77]

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.” 

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

And then the live is over. 

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 

He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’ 

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 

"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer. 

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

… 

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised. 

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” 

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise. 

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg. 

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper. 

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #camboy!eddie #camboy!eddie munson #soft!dom eddie

[sameteeth]

laying in bed listening to bay of suvla bay

#on the verge of tears also👍 #idk im so frustrated and i feel so fucking trapped i cant run bc i dont havw shoes and if i get shoes they need to be specific bc i have #ankle/knee/foot issues that make it hard for me to run without severe pain. so the shoes im looking at are expensive and would need to be #shipped which is a pain but there r no shoe stores w thw shoes i need nearby. and i wanted to go for a walk w mh friend but a bunch of #other annoying ppl came too. and my elbow is acting up again and im too lazy to get an ice pack even thoit might help. well maybe ill grab #one. but its only in pain at night which is annoying and i keep seeing fish eggs EVERYWHERE. and theyre not there but i see them theyre hau #haunting me and i dont like it and rhe sky is being weird and i want to tell ppl to be careful but i just sound so paranoid and weird #i need to text my sister i miss her !!!!!!! #but my experiment is almost all set up and the fish r spawning which is so good! just need to crank out a proposal which im soo stressedavt #and im so tiref all the time my legs hurt all the time i hate being in pain like this im such a little bitch about all of this i must seem #so lazy and useless and pathetic but im tryinf im trying sonhard everything is always so difficult #canis vents

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, jeonghan whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your roommate, toji, can’t pay rent - again. he promises to pay you back soon, but you’re tired of his behaviour.

tags. (perv) roommate!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pōrn with plot kinda. dirty talk. rough. p in v -> unprotected. crēampie. fīngering. praise. reader gets called ‘princess, girl’. degrādation. toji’s a womaniser and asshole, like i’m talking dusty, manipulative asshole. unestablished relationship.

“that shit again?” toji rolls his eyes as he lazily switches between the channels on the television. he knows exactly what you’re going to say next. your complaining has a certain pattern that he’s picked up on.

he smacks his lips after being done with his snack. your snack - the one you put your name on before putting in the fridge. the dark-haired man shrugs, “i told ya, girl. i ain’t got the money this month.”

your head feels like it’s going to explode with anger. you know toji has the money. you saw him count the bills on his bed just yesterday, when you passed by his room to go to yours. “yeaaaah - gambled it all away, right?”

the usual excuse he uses. you’re sick and tired of hearing that for the nth time. it’s the same story every month. toji’s a lazy bastard. he’s living off your salary at this point. unapologetically.

“yep,” toji yawns, not even attempting to sound convincing, “got that right.” he knows you’re not going to do anything about it, so he takes advantage of that fact. you’re all bark, no bite.

you always tell him that you’re going to kick him out if he doesn’t pay, though you never take the action you swear on doing. toji has you wrapped around his finger and he knows.

even now, he notices the way you try not to look down at his body. his black shirt is slightly lifted, showing his happy trail that stops at the waistband of his boxers. the fact that he’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread only makes the sight more appealing.

“well, pack your bags then,” you cross your arms after succeeding into averting your attention to the problem at hand. you point at the door with a nod of your head, “i want you to leave by tonight.”

toji struggles to hold back a chuckle. he’ll play along for your sake and act upset by the situation. the tall man sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, trying to gain some pity, “aw, c’mon. have some mercy on me, yeah?”

you’re the one rolling your eyes this time. you’re not going to be naive about this anymore. you’re not going to fall into his trap. you stomp your way over to his room and grab the bag he uses for the gym, aggressively filling it with a bunch of his clothes.

“you’re going out,” you hiss as you walk back to your living room. you throw the filled bag at toji’s chest without hesitation. you know that you’re no match to a grown man, but you’re too fired up to care, “out. i don’t need some useless bum like you in my house.”

toji’s grin drops. his jaw clenches as he gets his bag thrown at him. you seem more serious about this. normally, you’d just cuss him out and lock yourself up in your room. you’re slowly breaking out of the helpless cycle you were in.

“move it,” you huff. your patience is wearing thin. you stand close to toji, your legs nearly touching. you’re towering over him as he sits on the couch, which gives you all the needed confidence. though if he were to stand up it’d be the exact opposite.

toji frowns and starts to realise that his usual manipulation tactics won’t work. he’s trying to think of other ways to distract you of your current dissatisfaction. some more… direct ways.

“you don’t mean that,” his voice turns husky. a real deep tone he only uses when he needs something out of a woman. toji’s veiny hand moves to the side of your thigh, slowly crawling up your skin while he gauges your reaction.

he’s never attempted distracting you in a sexual manner. perhaps now is the perfect moment to try out if it works.

your breath hitches as you feel his touch on your bare thigh. such a warm touch. you’re not going to act like toji hasn’t been attractive to you all this time. his cocky attitude is annoying, yes, but the nonchalance is also a huge turn on.

you’re in a daze. your rational mind is screaming at you to kick that man to the curb—to let him suffer the consequences of his actions—but you’re weak. you’ve sworn never to get involved with him intimately. you wouldn’t want to sleep with an asshole like him.

“do not,” your voice is shaky, revealing the truth behind your contradicting words. you can’t resist him and you’re slowly realising it. you don’t want to end up as all the other women toji’s charmed with his words and actions. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him.

and yet here you are.

“i can repay you in a different way, y’know?” toji hums, his other hand landing on your left thigh. he rubs your plush flesh up and down in a slow manner. his eyes watch yours intently. you’re nervous and it’s painfully obvious to him. he suppresses a victorious grin, “y’ sure you don’t wanna, princess?”

you’re as weak as they come. toji’s toying with you and you’re allowing it. you’re no different than those women he fucks every other day when he needs something from them. be it money or just stress relief.

you tremble as you feel his fingers graze against the insides of your thighs.

“i take the silence as a yes, hm?” toji chuckles haughtily. he cups the back of your thighs, just below your ass, pushing your body closer to his. you’re standing between his legs and his head is close to your chest. he looks up at you, “use y’r words f’me, pretty thing.”

your brain stops working. you’re so easy. all toji has to do is call you by those alluring names and you’re all his. his callused fingers stop at the hem of your shorts. they continue to sensually rub the material, inching closer to your clothed cunt.

“say you want it,” toji whispers, his raspy voice making your knees weak. you want it, but you’re stubborn enough to deny your desires. you’re throbbing, aching and wet for him. your eyes catch a glimpse of the bulge in his grey sweatpants.

“no, i won’t,” you try to keep your dignity, however you’re slowly losing it. it’s inevitable. you’re putty in his hands. you let out a high pitched whine when toji ‘accidentally’ slides his fingertips back and forth over your clothed pussy, “mgh—okay, okay. fuck—i want you. need you.”

you blurt the words out before you can stop them from leaving your mouth. you silently curse at yourself. your bodily desires have fully taken over. you hold onto toji’s broad shoulders, your grip on them so tight that it sends a shiver down his spine.

he knew that you’d give in sooner or later. the dark-haired man watches as you lower your head, placing it in the crook of his neck to hide yourself from him. he coos condescendingly—

“mhm. tha’s more like it,” toji wastes no time to pull your shorts down to your ankles. he licks his lips, breathing heavily against your bare shoulder. he can’t wait to take this further. he groans the moment your wetness makes contact with his hand, “shiiittt, she’s fuckin’ wet. bet you dreamt about this.”

your panties are discarded on the floor not a second later. you whine in embarrassment, though still spread your legs. you feel ashamed because of how quickly you gave in to his charms. you thought you’d be different, but alas.

your roommate is one hell of a womaniser.

“y’ think i don’t see those lewd looks you give me?”toji clicks his tongue. his green irises are shining brightly. he enjoys the feeling of your sloppy cunt against his bare hand. his thick fingers rub between your folds, teasing your entrance, “nasty little girl. got me wanting to fuck you silly every single time.”

the desire has been mutual all this time. you’ve been driving toji crazy since day one. the way you think you’re being subtle when checking him out never fails to make him hard. or when you walk around the apartment in those skimpy clothes—those shorts that define your ass so well.

he’s sure that you are doing it all on purpose. not wearing a bra, staring at him for too long when he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, sneaking glances at the outline of his fat cock. you’re not as clever as you think you are.

toji finally has you in his grasp and he’s not letting go. he’ll pound you to the mattress, until you’re satisfied and overstimulated.

he’ll get revenge for all those times you’ve (un)intentionally left him hard. all those times you left him sexually frustrated. all those times he had to resort to other things to relieve himself. all those times he had to waste his cum on his hands or on other women.

all those times he couldn’t fuck you—his pretty little roommate.

“you’re a pervert,” you whimper as you feel toji slip two fingers inside you without warning. his eyes nearly roll back from how tight you’re gripping his digits. it’s going to be so worth it once he’s got your pussy wrapped around his cock.

“yeah, but tha’s how you like ‘em,” toji laughs, not taking any offence to the accusation. he is a pervert when it comes to you and you secretly love it. the squelchy sounds echoing through the living space are all the evidence he needs, “no need to deny it. y’r cunt is doing all the talking for ya.”

you weakly punch his chest at his dirty words. he’s riling you up in both the best and worst ways possible. you moan and your hips shake from pleasure, feeling him curl his fingers up inside you. you hiccup and try to silence him, “shut up!”

toji loves seeing you deny your own feelings. it gives him so much power over you. he knows you’ll come back crawling to him when he’s done here.

after all, you’re stuck with him. literally. he’s not leaving this apartment any time soon. not when he’s got a cute roommate like you awaiting him whenever he comes back home.

soon enough, you end up in his bed. it smells like him. you’ve only imagined being in this situation. with him on top of you, between your legs, filling you to the brim with his cock. it’s huge—bigger than you thought it’d be. no wonder those other girls come back for more.

you can’t talk anymore. the only noises leaving your lips are moans—signs of the pleasurable sensations rushing through your body. your vision is blurry and all you can think of is this moment that you’ve waited for. to be dicked down by your roommate.

perhaps you’re the pervert here.

“bratty attitude nowhere to be found, heh,” toji snickers while his hips ram against yours. flop flop flop — it’s embarrassing how much noise your wet cunt is making. you’re dripping on his sheets while he’s splitting you open. he’s doing it so, so well. he grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, giving you no chance to touch him.

toji pants as his thrusts increase in speed. he can’t keep his eyes away from you. you’re beautiful underneath him like this, on his bed, your body a piece of art he wishes to admire every single night. he smirks, “all you needed was some dick to shut that mouth of y’rs up, huh?”

you’re humiliated by how cheap you made yourself seem. you don’t respond to the man’s words and just wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in. toji grunts and slaps your thighs with his free hand, surprised by your actions, “fuck—didn’t know my roommate was such a slut in bed.”

your mouth hangs open. you’re sure you’re drooling by now. toji’s voice nearly becomes inaudible with how focused you are on the feeling of his cock. it’s hitting that right spot over and over again, the curve of his pink tip almost kissing your cervix.

“fffnghh, right there!” you moan loudly. you don’t care if the neighbours file noise complaints against you. they should’ve done so before, when toji had other women over. you remember how many times you had to put your earplugs in because your bastard of a roommate couldn’t keep it down.

the same bastard that’s fucking you so good right now. you can’t recall the amount of orgasms you’ve had already. toji didn’t even cum once and that’s only embarrassing you more. your inability to control yourself is pathetic. maybe not to toji though; he enjoys how easily he can make you spasm and squirt underneath him.

“i got’cha,” toji’s voice turns sweet for a split second once he sees how desperate you are for another mind blowing climax. if he knew you’d be this needy for him, he’d have taken you to bed long time ago.

“need you to say smthing f’me, ‘kay?” toji whispers and bites your earlobe, nibbling on it. his husky voice in your ear is like heaven. it makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he increases his pace, “say that i don’t need to pay y’ back no more.”

you nearly choke on your own spit. toji is an asshole—manipulating your moment of weakness and vulnerability for his own benefit—and yet you allow him. you try to fight the urge to give in, but it’s too late.

“y-you don’t have to pay me back anymore,” you repeat with a whine and shake your head. it’s impossible to think rationally when you’ve got a fat dick all the way in your cunt, hitting all the right spots. your eyes roll back as you babble inaudible stuff in between moans, “promise, you don’t have to—mghhh!”

toji hisses at the feeling of you tightening up around him. you’re insatiable, wanting to continue until you’re able to milk every drop of cum out of his heavy balls. he’s never had a girl be so desperate for him. so dumb and easy.

“atta girl,” your roommate hums and moves his hands to lift your thighs. his inhuman pace only seems to increase with the change of positions. toji stares down at you from behind his black bangs, “no more whinin’ about money ‘n stuff, yeah?”

his gaze is a mix of pure lust and intimidation. you nod your head along to all he says, too cockdrunk to resist anything. you’re living the dream and you’re unwilling to ruin it, “y-yes, not gonna do it again.”

toji groans at the sound of your whiny voice. he’s going to make you addicted to him—that’s his ultimate goal. his hips slam against yours repeatedly, a slick trail of your fluids sticking to his pelvis, “shit, pussy’s sucking me in, princess.”

you can’t get enough of him and vice versa. the dark-haired man fails to keep his composure for a second, pushing his body weight on yours, caging you right against the mattress. he can’t stop his cock from throbbing each time it dives into your insides.

“gonna cum real deep in you,” toji grumbles. he’ll give you every drop, all the way into your womb. he’ll make you his woman for tonight and the many nights yet to come. if it’s left up to him, he’ll gladly fuck you like this every day, “be greedy ‘n take it all.”

you gasp and feel toji thrusting harder into your aching cunt. you didn’t think he’d be able to go faster. you mewl and scream about how good he feels, which only feeds toji’s big ego. he grips your thighs tightly, nails digging into the flesh.

“fuck!” white dots appear in your vision as you reach your peak once again. you feel like your heart stops beating for a second. you involuntarily start convulsing, legs shaking and hips bucking up to meet toji’s.

he hisses and closes his eyes, shooting his creamy load all the way inside of you. ropes of warm cum spurt out of his tip, filling your pussy like both of you have always imagined. he sighs and thrusts a couple more times, making sure no drop escapes your messy folds, “mhmmm, there we go, girl.”

you’re still dazed. you’re slack-jawed, your spit dripping down your chin. you’re more sleepy than ever. no one has made you feel this good in a while. toji watches you struggle to stay conscious and huffs proudly.

he rolls off you and lays down on his back, stretching his arms. he yawns—not bothering with aftercare at the moment. he’ll let you cool off first before he gets you a towel to clean up. toji tilts his head to the side and grins, “debt repaid.”

he’s said it so casually. you don’t notice what he’s implying until you’ve calmed down. your rationality comes back to you after a couple seconds, and when it does, your heart sinks to your stomach. your eyes widen as you recall what you’ve basically promised him.

you promised not to ask for the money he owes you ever again. oh, stupid you.

“wait—”

unfortunately for you, toji’s already snoring. his eyes are closed as he lays there like he hasn’t just rearranged your guts and manipulated you to say stuff you can’t take back. you scoff and rub your eyes, kicking your legs in frustration at your own naivety.

what a bastard.

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: use of the nickname bunny

Based on THIS request.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court. 

You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.

But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae. 

The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you. 

But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.

You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you. 

A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace. 

Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here. 

You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot. 

It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs. 

To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke. 

Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath. 

The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.

You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away. 

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing. 

You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature. 

Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”

Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted. 

“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”

You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat. 

“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”

Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.

“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face. 

It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home. 

“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out. 

“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?” 

You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out. 

But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you? 

“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head. 

You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs. 

“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”

He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic. 

Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”

And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin. 

Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.

“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze. 

He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”

“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.” 

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”

Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away. 

A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly. 

He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around. 

“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”

Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”

“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold. 

“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there. 

Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile. 

The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness. 

“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.

Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.

“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble. 

Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.

“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”

Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.

“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”

“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.

“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air. 

Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before. 

Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time. 

Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.

“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.

You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home. 

You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress. 

You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward. 

 “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared. 

Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”

“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.” 

“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!” 

An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”

The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music. 

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night. 

You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” 

She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him. 

“My oldest sister shall take my place.” 

But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation. 

“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.” 

“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention. 

Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.” 

You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about. 

You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.

Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far. 

You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song. 

“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.” 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.” 

“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.” 

“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already. 

The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest. 

“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?” 

“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.” 

You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all. 

“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”

“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”

“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach. 

“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”

You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold. 

“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.” 

“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened. 

You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation. 

“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”

“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.” 

“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?” 

“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.” 

“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.” 

Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.” 

“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.” 

“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled. 

To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.” 

You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.” 

Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.” 

A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up. 

“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!” 

Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger. 

“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips.  “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.  

“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.” 

“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled. 

“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.” 

Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”

You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”

And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris. 

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x y/n #autumn court #eris fanfic #eris imagine #acosf #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic

[evielmostdefinitely]

i love soft!coriolanus. big bad mean man being so sweet?

something where maybe you're sick? nothing major but something where he gets to dote on you?

watch over me |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, you're sick and coriolanus takes care of you.

contains: slightly dark!coriolanus. possessive and manipulative-ish coriolanus and slight paranoia. past mentions of lucy gray. mainly just fluff.

“Is there a reason you decided not to show up to the luncheon today? Left me sitting there like an idiot without you.” Coriolanus was annoyed, beyond annoyed- tone clipped with irritation, stomping through the suite that was just for the two of you. 

He didn’t see you in the living room, not lounging on the couch or even in the sun room. His bristling exasperation grew to raging fear. Sickening, haunting what if’s slammed to the front of his mind, painstaking memories of Lucy Gray’s disappearance. History had repeated itself again, he was sure of it as Coriolanus barked out your name, turning the corner furiously. 

Your tiny squeak of a response came from the ensuite bathroom, muffled by the closed door and high ceilings of your bedroom. Coriolanus bounded towards the bathroom, yanking the door open with a fury, softening once he saw you, crumbled on the bathroom tile. Your head pressed against the clawfoot tub, stuffy nose sniffles that had him cringing. 

“Darling,” Coriolanus watched you carefully. “Are you alright?” 

You lifted your head, eyes red rimmed with irritation. You looked pitiful- Coryo cursed the way it made his heart swell and boast with pure adoration. “I think I might have the plague.” You sounded like your nose was clogged, voice scratchy and soft, looking at him helplessly. 

Coryo grinned, a small huff of a laugh, walking over to you. “The plague?” He repeated, pressing a hand to your forehead- the skin clammy and hot. “You feel feverish.” 

“I am.” You croaked, leaning into his touch. “I had the doctor check on me. I have the flu. I-I meant to call you, but I got really cold and then hot, and-” 

“-That’s alright.” Coriolanus shook his head gently, thumbs massaging your temples in a soft way that had you mewling, head lolling into his touch. “I hate that you’re not feeling well, my love. Did the doctor give you anything?” 

“A shot.” You rasped, eyes closed, body pressing further and further into him. “I think my fever broke. I got really hot so I decided to lay in here. The tile is cool.” 

“I could have brought you ice.” Coryo muttered. “I can have the Avoxes bring you an ice pack for your head.” 

“No, I-I’ll be alright. I feel better now.” You were lying, Coryo knew that, but he didn’t correct you. Not now. Not while you felt so ill. 

“I’m sorry I missed the luncheon.” Your eyes rounded when they met his gaze. 

“None of that. I won’t hear it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead. Were you too hot? What did too hot feel like? Should he call the doctor back? His own worries mixed with his sinking guilt made him feel uneasy. 

“You need to rest.” Coryo said firmly. 

“I-I’m alright. Just let me bathe, and I can make it to the dinner-” 

“-Don’t be ridiculous.” Coryo scoffed, a hand on your sweat soaked back, pulling you up, holding you firmly to his side as he walked you towards the bed. 

You clung to him, walking stiff from the tightness in your joints, a little dizzy from the medicine and the sudden movements. He loved it, pulling you closer to him. How pliant you were, how easily you obeyed and relied on him. 

“You are to stay in bed until you feel better, do you understand me?” Coriolanus commanded, flipping the covers back, helping you into your side of the bed. 

You fell into your pillows far too easily, no fight left in you, body flooded with fatigue. It was so easy to let Coryo take control of you like this. Let him take care of you, tell you what you should and shouldn’t do- do it for you without asking. You supposed you shuld feel trapped, and maybe at times you did, but at moments like these, your heart filled with nothing but fondness. 

“You tell me if you feel anything, anything even the slightest bit off.” Coryo’s hand pressed to your warm cheek, your eyes glazed with fever. “Are you listening to me?” 

“Yes.” You hummed, eyelids drooping. “I will let you know.” 

“What do you need now?” The bed dipped, Coriolanus taking a seat next to you. “What can I get for you?” 

“I’m just going to rest, Coryo.” You muttered, settling into the soft pillows. 

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” 

“Coryo, I’m fine.” You grinned sleepily, heart bursting with warmth and adoration for him. “I just need to rest.”

Coriolanus allowed it, commanding his protempore to bring him his work, rescheduling the meetings for the day so he could work at the small desk in the corner of the room. Carefully looking over schedules and statements and militia plans, while also watching you. Every snore, hum, sigh, toss and turn, sound coming from you had his attention peeked, ready at any moment to scream for the doctor. His mind raced still, even with you in front of him, possibilites of horrendous outcomes and terrifying scenarios. 

Until you woke up, greeted by a small bowl of soup- one his Grandma’am used to make him and Tigris when they were ill. “I can eat on my own, Coryo.” You shook your head lightly at him, accepting another spoonful of the warm liquid, sighing at how it soothed your aching throat. 

Coriolanus didn’t respond, bringing the spoon to your lips instead. And you let him, of course you let him. When he was so gentle like this, fussed over you this way, gave you his undivided attention. 

Contentment settled over both of you behind the closed doors of your home. This type of softness never to be seen outside of here. Tomorrow, Coriolanus would order three executions in the Capitol, striking even more fear over the Districts and weeding out the rebels. He’d be merciless and cold and cruel out there, but for you- for now, he’d be gentle.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x capitol!reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you smut #coriolanus x you #president snow #ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #tbosbas #hunger games #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fluff #tbosbas x reader #tbosas x reader #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosbas fic

[arminsumi]

I Want to Kiss You (4)

You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

2.6k

★ Synopsis : struggling to communicate on an aquarium date.

★ Pairings : fem reader / Gojo さとる / Geto すぐる

★ Content : fluff, lighthearted love triangle

↺ Ch.3 | M.List | arminsumi | Library

すぐるのアパート 9:15 AM

A soft redness dusted Satoru’s face as he vigorously washed his face with a foaming cleanser in the bathroom. Early morning. Very hot. Peak summer heat. And on this stark-bright day he had plucked the courage (thanks to Suguru’s motherly encouragement) to ask you out on a date. You’d agreed with a smile – and the image of your smiling response lingered in Satoru’s head while he got ready for the date.

Satoru looked in the mirror at his reflection and noticed that the corners of his lips were naturally upturned; he was at a genuinely happy point in his life. Ever since you came to visit Japan, Satoru felt like an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. One he wasn’t aware of before it lifted.

He blinked at his reflection, white lashes quivering.

��は大丈夫に見えますか？

Do I look okay?

He checked himself out in the mirror, observing how his white t-shirt draped over his shoulders.

私はカジュアルすぎる服装ですか？

Am I dressing too casually?

He dabbed cologne on his neck and sprayed it under his shirt to trap the minty-vanilla scent.

When he entered the living room, Suguru took one inhale of Satoru and his nose immediately scrunched up at the minty scent that hit his nose.

「ミント？」 he fake-belched, "Better vacate the area." he said dramatically and went to the kitchen, which was not divided by a wall but just a ceiling-tall shelf panel that you could peer through.

You and Satoru laughed at Suguru's overreaction.

Mint hopped on one of the shelves near Suguru, and then he extended the joke by freaking out.

「私はミント地獄にいる。」 he said. "I'm in mint hell."

Satoru giggled and tormented Suguru with his cologne by trying to trap him in a hug — Suguru was having none of it. Their banter settled down after a few minutes.

Mint was just observing and swishing her tail peacefully the whole time.

"Satoru should put that cologne on you, Mint, then I'll hate you even more!" he cooed condescendingly at the Turkish Angora.

You laughed, "Suguru, it's no wonder Mint hates you, if you speak like that to her."

"Hey now listen — this cat is the reincarnation of a murderer that tried to kill me in a past life." Suguru said dramatically, "See that evilness in her eyes? She's out for my blood."

電車 / Train / 10:00 AM

Satoru used the translator to talk with you during the train ride to the aquarium.

At some point, a translation of one of your replies made him laugh so hard that tears formed in his eyes.

Google translate felt emotionless, so Satoru brought out his phrasebook and tried to speak with it. It looked personalized with his notes. You could tell that he’d consulted the book many times already in the past.

You wanted to look at it closer, so you asked, “Can I?”

“Mhm.” He handed it to you.

You flipped through the phrasebook and read the section names. Basics. Practical. Social – there was a big red circle drawn around a particular phrase on page 140. The romance section.

Satoru’s cheeks burned. He felt a bit caught. He gave you an awkward but cute smile.

What he had circled in the phrasebook was;

キスしてもいい？

The train stopped at the station you had to get off at. The lady over the speaker sounded so sweet that your attention was drawn away from the phrasebook. Satoru surreptitiously took it from your hands and packed it into his backpack.

The two of you boarded off the train, bumping shoulders at the doors and laughing about it.

Satoru squinted because of the sun, and you distinctly remember looking at him and thinking about how attractive he was when he squinted.

Because the sun was blazing so bright, Satoru hovered his hand over the back of your head to make sure you didn't heat up too much while you and him walked to the aquarium.

水族館 / 11:00 AM

Satoru felt a self-conscious feeling kick in when the two of you bumbled through the aquarium together.

Hand gestures flew between the two of you. You shared confused faces which were followed by laughter. It felt like you were playing charades at some point.

Sometimes Satoru would say "uhh" for so long after saying one English word that he'd start smiling and laughing at himself.

He'd end his incomplete thought with "You know?" and you'd shake your head and start laughing, "I have no idea." you'd reply.

Then Satoru would use google translate, practicing each word under his breath.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

While waiting for you by the aquarium bathrooms, Satoru practiced asking "Can I kiss you?" over and over. He paced around and muttered under his breath.

It's not that he couldn't pronounce it, it's just that he wanted it to sound less stiff and more emotional.

I want to kiss you with desperation, not I want to kiss you with dullness.

An old man who looked about ninety blinked at Satoru and wondered why this young man was pacing back and forth while practicing romantic English phrases.

("What are you doing?") he asked Satoru.

("Learning to speak English.") Satoru replied.

("Why?") the old man asked.

("Because the girl I like speaks English. I'm waiting for her right now.") Satoru replied.

("Well, I teach English. I don't think you should ask to kiss her, that’s too direct. If the universe wills it, you two will fall into a kiss and it will just happen.") he advised.

("I don't really believe in the stars bringing people together. I want to kiss her whether or not the universe wills it.") Satoru said.

("You've got it all wrong. The stars really do bring people together. I'm sure the same stars that brought her to Japan will also bring her to your lips.") the old man said.

("... are you a poet, too?")

You came out of the bathroom. The ethereal aquarium light lit your face beautifully.

("Oh... is that girl the one you are in love with?") the old man noticed you.

Satoru looked at you. His cheeks warmed up.

("Yes, that's the girl I'm in love with...") he replied dreamily.

("It's no wonder. Well then, good luck.") the old man said.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

It felt like the aquarium was a whole other world, like a paradise in a bottle corked shut, one which only you and Satoru could exist within.

He watched the spin of aquatic life with you in silence. You seemed captivated.

The back of his hand brushed against your arm.

Satoru's hand trembled a little.

背が高すぎるんです。

I'm too tall.

Satoru had to be tactful about it.

どうすれば彼女の手を握ることができますか?

How can I hold her hand?

He awkwardly bent his knees a little to shorten himself.

Then he poked the back of your hand softly to get your attention, blatantly hinting to you that he wanted to hold your hand.

So you offered him your hand and then he seized it like a treasure being presented to him. His lips grew into a smug smile.

You saw him go red in the face, even in the dimness and blueness of the aquarium light.

You and him gently held hands and stood in front of the tall glass of the jellyfish enclosure.

つまりこれが愛なんだ？

So this is love?

The room was dark blue, but the enclosure lights lit up the see-through sea creatures with a magenta color.

It felt like a sight you could stare at forever and ever and always be at peace; magenta jellyfish pulsing then drifting then pulsing again, their bell-shaped bodies and tentacles behaving like a chiffon dress in water.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

クラゲのようにあなたの愛の中で漂いたい。

I want to float in your love like a jellyfish.

You and Satoru held hands as if your hands were glued to each other.

While exploring the map in the afternoon, he stayed at your side like a magnet. If he lost your hand, he immediately searched for it and held it again.

The summer heat got intense. He sweated more than you did, but even still looked attractive and fresh. To cool off, you and him searched for cold things to eat.

"Uhhh — do you want to eat shave ice?" he asked.

"Mhm, sounds good." you nodded.

So the two of you went on a long, long search for someone selling shaved ice and eventually found one. You zoned out a bit while enjoying his voice.

Satoru mentally kicked himself because even though he thought he was prepared for this date with you, he forgot to bring extra money. He could only get one cup of shaved ice.

"What flavour?" he asked you.

You told him cherry, so he got cherry.

The two of you shared it. It made his lips go red and cold.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

真っ赤で冷たい唇でキスできたらいいのに。それは冬のキスのようなものでしょう。

I wish I could kiss you with red, cold lips. It would be like a winter kiss.

The train shuddered.

You'd noticed that Satoru always kept his knees together when sitting next to you — to give you space. But now after holding hands, closeness was being chased and chased; the both of you scooted closer together and tried to translate your thoughts to each other with the phone.

Satoru typed in:

JPN : 私たちはくっついています。

ENG : We are stuck together.

You chuckled softly in response. His eyes always lit up and he really relished in making you laugh, even if it was just a soft chuckle.

You replied to him:

ENG : you are warm.

JPN : あなたは暖かいです。

He replied to you:

JPN : そう、あなたのせいで。

ENG : yes, because of you.

You replied to him:

ENG : are you flirting?

JPN : イチャイチャしてるの？

Satoru gave you a cheeky smile.

JPN : 私はいちゃいちゃしてます、はい。

ENG : I'm flirting, yes.

You smiled as he continued typing. His thumbs hesitated, like he was nervous about what he was about to type next.

Satoru's heart was beating harder and harder in his chest.

JPN : 頬にキスしてもいいですか？

ENG : ! NO CONNECTION

You both groaned.

The connection kept failing from then on, so the two of you laughingly attempted to communicate by using the outdated pocket phrasebook for the rest of the train ride home.

"Kiss...?" he tapped his finger on his cheek.

You thought he meant he wanted you to kiss him on his cheek, but he meant to ask if he could kiss your cheek.

So he malfunctioned when you leaned in and gave him a small but firm kiss on his left cheek. His ears and cheeks burned.

When you two stepped off the train, Satoru lingered behind you for a moment and grazed his fingertips over the place where you kissed and smiled to himself.

こんなに柔らかい唇。。。

Such soft lips...

すぐるのアパート 9:00 PM

The boys were talking about you at home while you were in the bathroom freshening up after the long, hot day out.

("Satoru, you're glowing. Did something good happen on the date?") Suguru smirked.

("She kissed me.") Satoru told him dreamily.

Suguru widened his eyes.

("She kissed you?!")

("Just on the cheek.") Satoru sighed, ("Her lips were so soft...")

("Were they now? I think you're exaggerating.") Suguru teased.

("I'm not exaggerating! Ask her for a kiss on the cheek, and you'll see; she has the softest lips ever.")

Suguru went quiet and pink in the face after Satoru suggested that he should ask you for a cheek kiss.

("Alright. I'll see for myself...") he mumbled.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Come the evening, the three of you piled up like cats on the couch in the living room and watched an old movie together.

"Seems like someone's comfy." Suguru commented.

You smiled and looked at Satoru; he curled up against you with his noodle-like limbs and fell asleep mid-way through the movie. Your warmth had made him too drowsy and dreamy to keep his eyes open.

"You know, I was worried that we wouldn't have the same chemistry in real life as we've had through the screen." you said.

Suguru let out a breathy laugh and replied.

"Yeah, I thought it would be like that too. When I hugged you at the airport, though, I felt the same spark I felt when we first video-called." he said.

You felt your cheeks warm up the more he talked.

"...spark?"

"Huh?" he raised his brows.

"You said you felt a spark between us?"

Suguru's heart throbbed. He didn't seem to know how to respond, but then he decided to act a fool.

"Oh, did I say spark?"

"Yes, you did! You said spark, I heard you." you playfully smacked his shoulder.

He started grinning so he hid his mouth with his hand.

"Well, I think you heard wrong." he teased.

You looked at each other in silence.

"... hey, Suguru?"

"Yeah?" he replied breathlessly.

He withdrew his hand from covering his mouth and his face became serious.

"What were you two talking about earlier? I heard my name being tossed around a lot. You can't keep gossiping behind my back like this!"

"Oh... earlier? We weren't gossiping. Satoru was boasting to me about how soft your lips felt on his cheek." Suguru said.

"Boasting? You seem jealous." you said.

"Don't prod at me now just because you think I'm jealous."

"I will absolutely prod at you." you teased.

"I'd rather you kiss me." he said.

"What?"

"What?"

You looked at each other for a moment.

"Not like... on the lips." he backtracked.

"Oh."

"Satoru said I should ask you for a cheek kiss because I claimed he was exaggerating how soft your lips are."

"Well... he's not exaggerating." you teased.

"Oh yeah? I need proof."

"What kind of proof, Suguru?"

"Kiss me."

So you kissed his cheek very slowly.

He felt the press of your lips, and how damn soft they were, and thought to himself;

Shit. Her lips really are as soft as Satoru said they were.

When you pulled away, you asked "So? Are they as soft as Satoru claimed?"

"Soft enough." he teased.

"Soft "enough"?! What does that mean?"

"Soft enough to make me feel that "spark" again." he said.

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

You looked at each other with wide eyes.

Satoru made a wakeful noise.

「うるさい。」 he mumbled, then snuggled into you like you were his pillow.

"Oh. We woke the cat." Suguru joked. 「おい、バカ。あなたは映画全体を通して寝ていました。」

「残念な。」 Satoru replied and let out a sleepy sigh.

"Okay, let's get to bed... it's late."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

★ Tags

@miwanilla / @sukunasdirtylaugh / @coco-cat / @babydiamondblog / @mp3playerblog / @froufrousnowman / @lovesickramblingsofmine / @arminswifee / @instantmusico / @kaechannn / @sabo-has-my-heart / @yoonjinhusbands / @honey-i-will-come-back / @thirtykiwis / @satoruiloveu / @iamthedetective / @melaaaara / @xakilicious / @i-am-the-geek-overlord / @starrylibras / @beanluvsmilo / @kittytoru / @reese-is-right / @rains-mae / @c0pkiller / @baepsays / @hueanhdang / @fuck-imstillhere / @yourimaginaryfriiendd / @alwaysminhyuk / @andromidagalaxie / @vianna99 / @akumakitsune21 / @ducksdoughnuts / @itsnotmelo / @animechick555 / @hypernovaxx

Thank you for enjoying the story 💗

#gojo #gojo satoru #fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x fem reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jjk fic #gojo fic #gojo x reader fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader x geto #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujustu kaisen #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru #geto x reader #geto #geto suguru #geto x you

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 21- Yandere!Miguel x Reader (Breeding/Lactation Kink)

(Requested by reader, also early update bc I'm playing Spiderman 2 all weekend)

        It was no lie to anyone that Miguel was a stressed man. His eyes packed more bags than someone did for travelling. You knew better than anyone the pent up tension that man carried. Miguel had the fate of the whole multiverse on his shoulders, plus his shitty Alchemax job. The man barely had time for sleep and himself. Even so, he always managed to find time for you. Miguel had to since he was your loving husband, after all.

        You were just a regular person, but you worked with Miguel at the Spider Society. You were the front desk receptionist. Your job was basically to turn people away who accidently entered the building. Apparently which happened a lot. It was an easy job and one where Miguel could keep his eyes on you at all times.

        You had been with Miguel for over two years. The man was head over heels in love with you. The moment he proposed you immediately said yes. You were happy to live a life with him. You shared his burdens and he with you. Miguel always said that you were his only stress reliever. Just seeing you each day made his tension melt away. He always joked about locking you away so no one but him saw you. It was cute.

        That and the hours of dumb fucking sex. Miguel had a breeding kink. He was always determined to fill you to the brim with his cum, always threatening to get you pregnant. It turned you on so much. Miguel would fuck you anywhere and everywhere. One time he was so horny that he was drilling your pussy right at your desk. He did not care if anyone walked in, just as long as he got to fill you. There have been says where you couldn't move because of how much he fucked you.

"Amor (love), what are you thinking about?" Miguel asked as he approached you from behind. You jumped,

"Miggy, I told you not to scare me!" You whined before hugging him, "I was just thinking about getting a new dress for our date night."

"Hm?" Miguel glanced at the website you were looking at, "But we're having that at home, amor." His eyes glowing bright red towards your exposed breasts,

"Awe, but Miggy, ca-W-Wait," You pouted softly as Miguel's hands already started to roam your body, "S-Someone almost walked in on us last time!"

"Then they'll know that you're mine." Miguel hissed lowly, sucking against your neck, "Nadie puede estar cerca de usted. (No one is allowed to be near you.)" 

        You trembled under his touch as Miguel already started to pump your pussy with his fingers. Miguel refused to teach you Spanish, saying something about him enjoying your confused expressions. When in reality, he did not want you to know about his dark secret. Placing you against the desk, Miguel inhaled to the sound of your moans. Those sweet, sweet cries, only for him. Miguel made sure that no one got to touch your body.

        When Miguel first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. He did everything in his power to keep other men away from you. He was Spiderman after all, what's an injury here or there? Miguel just pushed you in the right direction for him. Playing the perfect boyfriend until you were convinced that he was. You were so cute as you fell into his trap. Miguel had you all for himself and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

"Mírate, chupándome la polla tan bien. (Look at you, sucking my dick so well.)" He groaned as he started to pound your pussy from behind. "What is it that you want, baby? Tell me."

"N-Need you to fill me," Your moans were getting louder as he pressed you into the desk. Miguel brought your waist closer to his, making sure to hit you deep each time,

"Te he entrenado muy bien. Todo lo que quieres es que te derrame mi semen todos los días. Te doy mi hijo. (I've trained you so well. All you want is for me to pour my cum into you every day. Give you my child.)" He groaned lowly, giving you his first fill, "Gotta make a mami out of you, right?"

"Y-Yes!" You moaned out.

        Miguel licked his lips as he kept going. One was never enough. He needed to make sure you knew your place. He flipped you over, placing you in mating position. Your breasts were bouncing out of your top. Miguel licked his lips as he went to squeeze your breast. You let out a sharp gasp as a sudden release of tension was given to you. Miguel's eyes sparkled as your tender breasts started to lactate. Your adorable face screamed embarrassed while he chuckled,

"Don't look away," Miguel leaned down and started to suck against one of your breasts.

"H-Hah, M-Miggy...T-That-"

        You squirmed under Miguel, a new sensation burning throughout your body. Miguel was sucking against your breasts hungrily. You were reaching your orgasm and fast. Miguel felt you squeeze against his cock and continued his harsh pace. He switched to your other breast, wanting to share the love.

"Miguel!" You cried out, panting heavily after your orgasm. 

        Miguel released your abused nipples, watching your milk drip down your body. He pumped you a few more times with his dick, making sure to fill your womb. Once he was done, he fixed your attire and sat you back down in your seat,

"That was delicious, mi amor. We'll continue this later."

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

        It hadn't even been an hour since Miguel filled you that he was back. He caught you leaving the bathroom and proceeded to fuck you in the stall, giving you another few pumps of his cum, while enjoying your milk. You body was starting to grow sore and it was no where near time for you to go home. It was like Miguel was under a spell. He kept groping your breasts, wanting you to cum from just his touch. You weren't sure if you were going to last the day.

"I need more water," You sighed softly, feeling dehydrated.

        Right as you were about to stand, someone walked into the building. A young confused looking man approached you with what looked like a file in his hand. It was probably another lost interview candidate for the building behind the Spider Society. You told the young man that he was in the wrong building and when you went to stand, you fell. Your legs had given up on you from all of the rough sex Miguel gave you today.

"Are you-"

"Back off." Miguel hissed as he towered over the young man in his suit.

        The young man fled in terror. Miguel cussed under his breathe and went over to you. He grabbed your arm before lifting you into his arms. You knew he was mad. Miguel always hated it whenever any guy talked to you. He wouldn't even let you order food if it was a male cashier. He was so protective and jealous that you found it cute, but annoying sometimes.

'Sorry," You apologized as Miguel took you home, "I was going to get a water."

"Then let me know. I'll do that for you," He grumbled.

        You pouted towards his childish behavior. Once you arrived home, Miguel made sure you got hydrated. He took your pants off, massaging your legs to try and give them feeling again. His eyes trailed towards your pussy, seeing his cum still leaking out of you. A low growl escaped his lips as he pushed you against the bed. His suit disappearing before he started to stroke his dick,

"��Por qué sigues desobedeciendome? ¿Ni siquiera puedes guardar mi semilla dentro de ti y dejas que otro hombre te hable? te voy a castigar amor. (Why do you keep disobeying me? You can't even keep my seed inside you and you let another man speak to you? I'm going to punish you, love)" He spat, shoving his dick inside your drenched pussy.

"M-Miguel! N-No more...It's too much," You whined. Miguel groped your breasts, giving them a good squeeze, "Hah~ Ah~"

"Voy a hacerte madre. Darte una muy buena razón para mantenerte alejado de los demás. ¿Tienes esperando en casa toda hinchada por mi culpa? (I'm going to make you a mother. Give you a damn good reason to stay away from others. Have you waiting at home all swollen because of me.)" He groaned, ravishing your cunt.

        Miguel ignored your cries as he took your nipple in his mouth. The warmth of your breast milk going down his throat. How could he ever let you leave the house again after this? Miguel needed to be stricter with you. Gripping your hips tightly, Miguel let out a grunt as he filled your womb once more. Your body arched, moaning out in pleasure. Despite your cries, your body always told Miguel what you wanted. You could never be too full.

"Are you learning your lesson?" Miguel asked, releasing your nipple for the other one. You shuddered in response, "I can't hear you,"

"Y-Yes, Miggy."

"And what is it you learned?"

"Mhm, I-I won't," You whined as he kept bullying his cock into you, "I-I'm yours. O-Only yours-"

"And?" Miguel rubbed your clit as he pounded you harder. You gasped, moaning louder,

"I-I'll do as you say. N-no talking to other men, a-and...ah...ah~ M-Migu-" You shook as you reached another orgasm. Miguel chuckled as he gave you another fill of him,

"Good girl,"

        Picking you up as he finished, Miguel carried you to the bathroom. He sat you between his legs in the bathtub, messaging your breasts. His whispers about how sexy you were made your brain foggy. Miguel loved the fact that you were lactating for him. His hands kept wandering all over your body, marking you as his.

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

        You ended up working from home afterwards. Miguel said it was for your protection. You were so madly in love with him and blinded by his true nature that you obeyed him. Miguel always rewarded your obedience. You were his good girl. He made sure you got what you wanted as long as it did not involve leaving the house without him. Miguel made sure that you were always with him everywhere else. If you even stepped out for mail without him, he would punish you.

"Now, what is it that you did wrong?" Miguel asked as he pounded you from behind harshly. You gripped the bedsheets, sobbing from the overstimulation he was giving you,

"M...Ma..." He had made you cum so many times you lost count. You could barely form a word.

"Can't understand you when you're so fucked out and full of me," He said with a smirk, "Oh? You're lactating even more...I wonder if this means I succeeded." He hummed lowly. You moaned loudly as he went to fill you again,

"Mig....s'much....mhm..."

        Miguel lifted you up as he gave you one last load. He turned you around, holding your waist up so nothing would spill out of your pussy. He licked your breasts, enjoying the lewd expression on your face. You learned your lesson alright. You were never going to disobey him again. You were his good girl. Miguel smiled as he rubbed your belly,

"You're going to be a mami, amor. I'll have to reward you later,"

"Mhm,"

        You just laid against the bed, slowly falling asleep from exhaustion. You were happy and contempt with your life with Miguel. Even if it meant losing your freedom to him. Miguel could have never been happier, especially after finally breeding you. And he wasn't going to stop after just one. You were stuck with him forever.

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you���ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 smut #baldur's gate x reader #astarion x you #.things i write

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 scenario #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando x you #lando x y/n #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #lando norris oneshot #ln4 one shot #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #f1 blurb #lando norris drabble

[aerynwrites]

Mistaken Identity

Halsin x fem!Reader

A/N: based on this request. this was such a cute idea! I hope you all enjoy! :3

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: none - just pure fluff

The forest is peaceful today, not that it isn't usually peaceful in your little part of the woods. But today feels…different somehow. 

It’s just like any other day you’ve had since you settled down in your cottage in the middle of nowhere, desperate to get away from the cities and towns and the bustle of people. You tended your garden earlier in the morning to avoid the worst of the day's heat, and now you’re checking your hunting traps, this trip already proving more fruitful than the ones in recent days. 

You’re working on checking your fourth and last trap, a large rabbit caught in your snare when you hear the faint shuffling of leaves, followed by the snapping of twigs. You stand upright, rabbit in your hand as you turn in a circle, eyes trying to find the source of the sound. 

You’re not an expert on the natural world just yet, but whatever is approaching sounds larger than you're ready to deal with. You quickly tuck the small animal into your pack, muttering a quick prayer for its soul before moving to go back the way you came. You’re just coming out of the small clearing when you come face to face with the largest cave bear you’ve ever seen. 

It’s massive. It’s head nearly level with your own as you both freeze in your tracks. Fear courses through you, making your heart pound as blood rushes in your ears. Any and all advice on what to do when encountering a bear has left your mind frustratingly blank, only allowing you to watch the creature in wide eyed terror as you opt to stay completely still. 

It doesn’t attack you immediately which you take as a good sign, but it does raise its head slightly, nose twitching as it sniffs and huffs at the air before lowering it’s head and taking a few steps towards you. You want to take a step back as it moves closer, but you find yourself rooted to the spot as the bear approaches you, nose sniffing curiously at the bag slung over your shoulder. 

Your hunting bag. 

“Oh…” you let out a shaky sigh, as you pull the bag off and set it on the ground slowly, revealing the contents of it to the bear. If this is what it’s after, maybe you can slip away as it eats your kills. 

“It’s rabbit…a few good juicy ones,” you say, finding yourself calming ever so slightly as you speak to the bear. 

He continues to sniff at the bag before letting out a disinterested huff, nosing it back towards you. 

Is he…letting you have it back?

Cautiously you reach down to pick up the bag once again, slinging it over your shoulder when the bear makes no sudden moves. 

“Thank you…” you trail off, feeling silly for thanking a bear who can’t understand you. 

Before you can question the odd situation you find yourself in, it gets even more odd. The bear approaches you again, but this time he presses his nose into the crook of your neck, his wet nose cold against your skin and causing you to shriek as you scramble away - both from surprise and fear. 

He doesn’t chase after you like you thought he would, instead the bear lets out a small huff and tilts his head to the side, as if considering you. You decide to take that moment to make your retreat, before he can consider you long enough to make you his lunch.

You back away from the creature slowly, planning to just keep going until you're out of sight. But before you can get very far the creature lets out another chuff and turns away from you to head deeper into the forest. You stop as you watch him disappear into the foliage, and can’t help the curiosity that courses through you. 

What an odd bear.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

If you’d thought that would be the only encounter with the unusually docile bear, you were wrong. It seemed like almost any time you left the immediate area around your small cottage you would stumble upon the bear. 

At first you were still hesitant. Still very aware that this is a wild animal very capable of killing you. But as days turned into week, and weeks turned into months…the large bear became a pleasant constant in your life. Pretty much your only friend out in this isolated part of the woods. 

You’re thick as thieves, the two of you. He’d always be near when you were preparing your kills, happily eating whatever you discarded. But you noticed he had a certain fondness for the fruits in your garden and the honey from your hives rather than the meat you prepared, so you’d started to grow a little extra just for him. 

You’ve started to notice he’s present in your days more often than not, lumbering beside you wherever you go and staying near if you stop. He also loves to be pet - something you find quite endearing. The day he practically rolled over when you scratched behind his ears was the day you hoped he’d never go far. 

And he’s a very good listener. Even if he’s not much of a conversationalist - you can’t seem to shake the odd feeling that he understands you. You don’t ever feel like you have much to say, but your occasional trips to nearby villages offer some conversation and it’s like your bear companion would huff or growl or chortle at all the right moments. He rumbles in agreement if you ask him questions or growls if he seems upset…

In fact…the longer you spend around the unusual creature the more… human he starts to seem. 

You shake your head at the thought as you weed your garden. You know it’s not possible, but the entire thing is just so out of the ordinary you suppose your mind can’t help but try to find explanations for it. 

You tug at a particularly tough weed, pulling hard enough that when it comes free from the ground you fall back onto your hands. 

“The weeds are particularly nasty this time of year.”

A surprised shout falls from your lips as you whip around to the source of the voice, stumbling quickly to your feet at the same moment. 

You’re not used to visitors this far from the nearby towns, and you're certainly not used to large handsome eleven men looking at you from the other side of your fenced in garden. 

The man holds his hands up placatingly, lips tilted up ever so slightly in a small smile. 

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you.” 

You can’t stop the scoff you let you, hand clutching at the fabric over your chest. 

“Well, you certainly have an odd way of showing it,” you chastise lightly, still wary of the stranger. 

He bows his head in apology, one hand coming up to rest over his heart. “My apologies again. I tried knocking on your door but no one answered…”

“So you came to snoop around in my backyard?” You ask, brows raised as your arms cross over your chest. 

The man lets out a small laugh, and you try to ignore the fluttering feeling it produces in your belly. 

“It would seem that way, yes,” he says, voice light. “But in truth I only wanted to introduce myself. My name is Halsin, I’m an archdruid in the grove just down the road from the abandoned village.” 

An image flashes in your mind, of a wooden door partially hidden by foliage. You passed it when you would travel to a town several hours away. You’d once tried to investigate the area only to be warned off by a few druids at the top of the wall. 

You’d made a point to stay away since then. 

You shift on your feet slightly, a sudden anxiety flaring up in your chest at the presence of someone like an archdruid seeking you out. Are you on their land somehow? Have they come to run you off after you’ve just started to build a life for yourself here?

Halsin must notice your shift in demeanor, as he holds his hands out towards you in a calm manner. 

“I did not come to disturb you,” he promises. “Only to open the gates of the grove to you. It has been many years since people other than ourselves have made this land home.” 

You finally take a few tentative steps forward. Hands falling to your sides. “I didn’t get a very warm welcome when I stumbled upon your… grove, the first time.” 

Halsin’s lips fall slightly at that. “Yes, some of the others are more wary of outsiders,” he admits. “But nature connects all living creatures. I only came to make the offer in an effort to ease your time here. The grove is much closer than the nearest town, and we most likely have what you need if you’d ever like to trade.” 

You’re stunned slightly by his offer. It takes you almost an entire day to get to the closet trading town. The grove he speaks of is much closer, less than an hour's walk from your home. You'd be a fool to turn down the offer. So, with a small nod of your head you accept. 

“That would be…wonderful,” you admit, noticing the smile returning to the Druid's lips. “Thank you.” 

“The pleasure is mine,” Halsin says, his eyes turning to the sky. “I must be going. If you wish to enter the grove just tell them I paid you a visit and offered you sanctuary, they will let you pass.” 

You nod once again, and Halsin turns wishing you farewell, your name falling sweetly from his lips. 

It’s only when he’s out of sight do you realize you never gave him your name.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

The next few weeks pass in a surprisingly blissful and giddy blur. 

You took Halsin up on his offer to visit the grove, and true to his word you were let in without much fuss, the arch druid himself waiting when you entered. He introduced you to one of the druids who was the main trading hub in the grove as well as the healer Nettie in case you ever needed anything in that regard. 

You had expected the tour to stop there as he left you to your devices, but he continued to show you the grove, his home and his favorite things about it. 

You visited often after that, always under the guise of visiting to trade or buy but secretly using the trips as an excuse to see Halsin. The man has grown on you, and more often than not, you find your thoughts drifting to him as butterflies erupt in your chest. 

With each encounter you think you find him returning your small flirtations. A teasing comment here, a hand on your back there. 

On your most recent trip to the grove, Halsin had shown you a secret little alcove tucked away from the more busy parts of the small colony. It overlooked the river and you could tell Halsin spent much time here by the small bedroll tucked neatly against a large rock and the small pouches of provisions. 

You’d both snacked on dried meat and fresh fruit as he told you stories from his youth, laughter ringing out in the small clearing at the more mischievous adventures he’d had. 

You’d just popped an apple slice drizzled in honey into your mouth when Halsin turned to look at you, eyes dipping down to your lips. 

You’d paused, chewing the bite quickly before swallowing. “What? Have I got something on my face?” You ask, brows furrowed. 

Halsin didn’t respond at first, and it was in that deafening silence that you realized just how close you two were sitting. At this angle, with Halsin looking down at you, your noses are mere inches from another and you can feel his breath ghosting gently over your cheek.

He slowly reached a hand up, resting it against your cheek as his thumb wiped gently at the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted slightly at the action, and Halsin leaned just that much closer, his lips just barely brushing yours when a distant call of his name snapped you both back to reality. 

You let out a frustrated sigh as you flop back onto the furry heap behind you, ignoring the annoyed huff your companion lets out. “He was going to kiss me!” You say, exasperated. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. If we hadn’t been interrupted…”

You sigh as you sit up and turn to look at the bear who has become one of your closest companions. He’s been more absent as of late, and at first you had thought it was because you’ve been at the grove more often and you just haven’t been around to see him. Something that made you feel bad at first. 

But even on the days you weren’t at the grove, your companion was nowhere to be found, even despite the bowls of fruit and honey you’d leave for him. 

Today is the first day you’d seen him in days, and it was just in time for him to listen to you rant about the elf you’ve fallen head over heels for. Though, he doesn’t seem to mind. You move so you’re able to wrap your arms around the big bear's neck, your face resting just behind his head as you lay against him. 

“I…I like him a lot,” you admit. 

You know the bear can’t understand you. You know it’s foolish to talk to an animal. But you can’t help but talk to someone about how you feel. You can’t exactly talk to Halsin about this considering he’s the subject of your thoughts. 

The bear seems to still beneath you as you continue, as if listening intently to your words. 

“He’s so kind,” you continue. “He allowed me into his home and shared so much with me despite not knowing who I was. And he’s funny too,” you let out a small laugh at that, heat rushing to your face. “And handsome…”

You sigh and shake your head. “I feel like some people might find him intimidating or rugged in a bad way if they just saw him and never talked to him but…I think he’s beautiful. His smile is so captivating, and anytime I look at him I want to reach up and trace his scars before finally, finally kissing him…”

You huff, pulling away from your furry friend only to find bright hazel eyes already on you. “Listen to me,” you chastise. “Talking to a bear about my silly crush.” You smile and reach up to ruffle the bear's ears gently. “At least you’re a good listener.”

You move to stand, the bear doing the same, his nose nuzzling at your hand as if begging you to stay. 

“I know, I know,” you say softly. “I haven’t been around as much. But I have to get ready. I…I invited Halsin over for dinner tonight,” you tell him, smiling when he gives a small groan of what you assume to be encouragement. “I promise tomorrow I will have the biggest bowl of fruit and honey you could ever eat. As a sorry gift.”

The bear huffs at this before sitting down and plopping back to the forest floor, resting his head on his paws. You smile and ruffle the fur on his head one last time before heading home. 

You have a druid to impress.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

The knock to your door comes just as you’re about to finish off the meal you’ve prepared. You roasted some fish you caught in the nearby river and paired with vegetables from your garden, and even a loaf of fresh bread you managed to scrounge up. 

You silently tamp down the anxiety building in your chest as you rush to the door, wiping your hands on your apron before opening it to greet the tall druid on the other side. 

Halsin smiles down at you from the threshold, eyes twinkling as he gazes at you. “Hard at work, I see.”

You furrow your brows at his greeting, and Halsin takes the moment of confusion to reach up and wipe a thumb gently across your cheek. It’s then that you register the flour on your cheeks, heat rushing to your face as you reach up to try and wipe away any excess when he drops his hand. 

“Oh that,” you laugh. “It’s probably from the bread. I just finished getting everything ready if you want to come in,” you say, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter. 

He smiles warmly at you, accepting your invitation before closing the door behind him. He then reveals a wine bottle he’s had in his hand, offering it out to you. 

“A gift for a most gracious host,” he says in a way of explanation. “Though I must admit it is nothing as elaborate as you’d find in the cities…It’s still better than nothing.”

Your lips tilt upward at the kind gesture, and you reach out to take the bottle. “I’m sure it’s lovely, oh-” your eyes widen as you take in the pale color of the wine inside. “And it’s a white wine…That’s perfect for the meal, white always pairs wonderfully with fish.”

You let out a soft laugh as you turn the bottle in your hands before looking up at Halsin once more. “It’s like you read my mind.”

A flash of… something flickers in his eyes at your words, his lips twitching downwards ever so slightly. “Something of that nature, I suppose.”

You quickly shrug off your momentary observation, moving instead to take off your apron and wash your hands before serving dinner. You also take this moment to run a damp rag over your face when Halsin isn’t looking, clearing away any more unwanted blemishes. 

Once you’re through, Halsin helps you carry the various plates and bowls to the table, eyes widening slightly when they land on the flaky fish steaming on one of the large plates. 

You set a plate in front of him as he takes his seat, speaking before you can stop yourself. “I chose fish because I wasn’t sure if you ate… meat,” you scrunch your nose. “Although now that feels silly considering fish is a type of meat-”

Halsin cuts off your worried rambling by reaching out to place his hand over your own where it rests on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s wonderful,” he assures you, withdrawing his hand with an amused sparkle in his eye. “And I can assure you that meat is a part of our diet,” he teases. “Though I could see why one may think it would not be. Death is a part of life in nature, creatures passing in order to provide for another.”

You nod, relief washing over your anxiety. “Yes, of course. That makes more sense I suppose,” you say before gesturing to the food steaming before you. “Well, help yourself. We don’t want it to get cold.” 

Halsin smiles and obliges your invitation, but instead of serving himself he moves to serve you first. 

“Oh!” You say, instantly reaching out to stop him. “You don’t have to do that, you’re the guest you should eat first-“ 

“I insist,” Halsin interrupts, already moving to place a piece of fish onto your plate. “You took the time to cook and invite me into your home. The least I can do is serve you before myself.” 

After a moment of hesitation you acquiesce, smiling as you sit back in your chair while he finishes dishing out your meal to you and then himself. 

Once the food is plated, the night moves much quicker than you would have liked, conversation flowing easier than you ever anticipated. Talks of what’s been happening in the grove to what you’ve recently planted in your garden to everything in between.

Halsin tells you of his childhood and the adventures he’s been on and you tell him of your life growing up in the city to what led you here to your own little slice of wilderness. It’s only when your plates are empty, bellies are full and the mess cleaned up does Halsin suggest a walk.

You eagerly agree, following his lead out of your small home and into the forest now blanketed in faint orange light due to the setting sun. Halsin seems to have a specific place in mind, taking your hand in his own as he leads you through the woods. 

You can’t stop the smile as he laces his fingers with yours.

“So, do you have a specific place in mind?” you ask.

Halsin smiles. “I do, it’s a place of great importance to me, and one of my favorite places of solace in the forest.”

Your brows wing up in surprise as you look up at him. “What makes this place so important?” 

“I…” he trails off for a moment, “I met someone very special to me there.”

You nod, your curiosity piqued even more at this information. Who could he have met there? And why was he sharing it with you?

You don’t have time to voice your questions though, as Halsin’s steps start to slow just as you enter an all too familiar clearing off the bank of the river. It’s the very same clearing where you met your bear friend, and where you often come to sit with the large creature. You were here just this morning. 

Halsin must sense your familiarity with the space, because he gives your hand a small squeeze. “You know this place?”

You nod, lips tilting upwards fondly. “Yeah I…” you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “You’re going to think I'm crazy but…I’ve actually befriended a bear that I think lives in the woods. This is where we end up a lot of the time.”

“A bear, you say?” he asks, voice lacking the surprise you expected to hear. 

You turn to face Halsin, that feeling of familiarity that you had when you first met him tugging at your mind. “Halsin…why did you bring me here?”

The druid lets out a small sigh. “I will be honest that I had a plan in mind when I brought you here,” he begins, turning to face you as he takes both of your hands in his own.

“My life has been a long one, and I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly, especially as the years pass me by…” slowly, he reaches up to cup your cheek. “But it does now. I feel more for you than I have in centuries. But there is something I must tell you.” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as Halsin speaks. He’s confessing to you, telling you the one thing you;ve yearned to hear for weeks now. Yet, you can’t help the anxiety that roils in your belly. What could he possibly have to tell you? 

“I…I feel the same way,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. “You can tell me anything.”

Halsin smiles, but you can’t help but notice the slightly guilty look on his face as he does so. “I only hope you feel the same after I reveal what I must. I’ve come to care for you, deeply - but even I know no relationship can be built on lies.”

Halsin pulls away from you then, and your anxiety skyrockets. But before you can question him, a burst of light blinds you, leaves and grass exploding in the space where Halsin was and leaving behind a -

Bear?

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they do, your heart leaps into your throat. Halsin just turned into a bear - something you knew was possible among druids but…

He didn’t just turn into a bear. He turned into your bear. The bear you’ve spent months feeding and befriending. The bear you’ve spent nights talking to about anything and everything. 

Including Halsin. 

You’ve been talking to Halsin about Halsin. About your feeling for him, about that day he almost kissed you before getting interrupted. 

“Oh my gods… ” You gasp, one hand coming up to cover your mouth. “You - You’re the bear. The bear I've been - that means…” you let out an embarrassed groan, covering your eyes as you hope for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. 

“You heard me this morning! ”

You hear another burst of magic, and then two warm calloused hands are wrapping around your wrists, pulling your hands from your burning face as you look up at Halsin in his human form once more. 

“It was not my intention to deceive you,” he says softly, eyes full of regret. “When I first stumbled upon you that day all those months ago it was my intention to avoid this area of the forest after that, but…” he sighs. “Something about you called to me. Your kindness, your lack of fear around the bear of whom so many are afraid. It is…rare for me to be able to be my full self around others. Most people want the man and tremble at the bear, but it is just as a part of me as this is.”

He sighs again, eyes falling away from yours as he takes a step back from you, dropping your hands. “I…understand if this turns you away. It was a deception, despite my intentions never being malicious.”

You watch him silently for a moment, letting the information sink in. despite what most people may feel, you find yourself lacking any of the anger you expected. Instead all that comes out of you is a laugh, a laugh that turns into a long string of bubbling laughter. 

Halsin seems surprised by your reaction, and when you finally manage to compose yourself you step forward and take his hands in yours again, lips split into a smile. 

“So, that means you heard what I said this morning? About the day you almost kissed me?” you ask, voice soft.

At the reminder of your earlier conversation, Halsin smiles again, cheeks tinged with a barely there blush. “I do.”

“Will you kiss me now?” you ask boldly.

Halsin chuckles, eyes sparkling with delight. “It would be my pleasure.”

Then his lips are on yours. 

It’s just as you imagined it, his lips soft and gentle against your own despite his size. His hands move to rest against your hips, squeezing as he moves to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue run along the seam of your lips, and you eagerly let him in, unable to stop a whimper as he enters your mouth. 

He tastes like the tart wine you had with dinner and something you can only identify as him. It's heady and soft all at the same time, and you find yourself craving more of it, more of him. 

Your arms slide up to wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours just as he pulls away from your lips. His chest heaves, his breaths puffing against your cheek as he looks down at you. 

“You truly are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush a kiss against your cheek. “Inside and out. Silvanus has blessed me, this day.”

You smile. “And hopefully for more days to come.”

Pressing a quick kiss to your lips, Halsin wraps his arms around your waist. “I would have you for as many days as you’d allow. Man or bear.”

You giggle at that. “Why not both?”

A deep laugh escapes the man before you and he spins you happily in the air before taking you both gently to the forest floor, the grass blessedly cool through your clothes as he comes to hover over you. 

“You shall have me however you desire, my heart,” he says, before leaning down to kiss you once more.

You happily reciprocate, hands reaching up to thread through his hair. And as you lay amongst the grass beneath the setting sun…you couldn’t be happier you’d met a bear.

#halsin x reader #halsin bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #halsin #bg3 halsin

[peachdues]

TOXIC

LEVI X READER

A/N: a combination of the horny angst that’s been swirling in my head for a few days.

Listen. Do I condone what’s about to happen in this? No. Was it fun to write? Absolutely.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • toxic fucking • unprotected/raw sex • creampie • breeding kink • fucking does not solve problems • neither do babies • toxic Levi and toxic Reader tbh

This was a bad idea. Terrible; one of your worst to date.

And yet, as Levi spread you out across his kitchen counter — the counter that, until two weeks ago, had also been yours — you couldn’t for the life of you remember why every alarm bell in your head was sounding off, begging your body stiffen, to reject the man lowering himself between your thighs, his gray eyes glowing nearly silver with desire.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” His lips are hot and silky as they slope messily across your thighs, and his fingers push aside the hem of your sundress to make way for him. “Because try as you might, you know no one will ever be able to fuck you like I can.”

Ah. That was why.

Because you and Levi had broken up. You were no more; a past concept, a memory.

In the end, your three-year relationship died not in a fiery blaze of glory, but in cold resignation. He’d sat stoically at the kitchen table as you’d confessed that you could no longer stomach being second or third or whatever place behind his true passion — work — and that it was time for you to put yourself first, for once, since he wouldn’t.

The only sign of his emotion has been his fists — clenched so tight that the skin of his knuckles had gone white.

I’m done. I have nothing left to give you, Levi. Not when you only ever take and offer nothing in return.

He’d tried to argue once you announced your intention to move out that night. He’d fought to convince you to wait until morning, to put away the small suitcase you’d packed with your most essential belongings, to sleep on it — on the decision overall. But you’d known that if you’d stayed, you would have changed your mind — would’ve let him change your mind, and he’d known that, too. So you’d held firm, turned your back on him and forced yourself to walk out of the door to your apartment, suitcase in hand.

You hadn’t intended to return, and it seemed like he’d accepted it. He’d even gone so far as to mail whatever of your belongings you hadn’t managed to pack to your parents’ address. So though you spent your nights staining your pillow with bitter tears, your heart feeling like little more than a misshapen lump of meat barely beating in your chest, you’d at least gotten what you thought you’d wanted: a clean break.

Until he’d texted you that all of your mail was still being sent to your — his — address. He’d offered to pay to have it forwarded to you, but when you saw how much that would have put you in his debt, you’d begrudgingly told him you’d stop by on your way home from work and pick it up.

Really, you knew better; should have known better, at least.

And perhaps your logic would have won over your desire, but then Levi’s fingers tug your underwear to the side and his mouth latches to your core, and all the chatter that constitutes your higher reasoning fades to an indiscernible buzz in the back of your skull. The moment you feel something hot and wet prodding your entrance, your mind whites out without the hope of coherency returning any time soon, as Levi begins to fuck you with his tongue.

With a keening cry, your legs seize around his head, trapping him between your thighs. Your hands shoot to grip his hair, desperate to find purchase; to find anything to help keep you tethered here, to reality, rather than risk floating away in clouded bliss.

But Levi is too committed to tearing down the wall you’d carefully spent the last two weeks building, brick by brick. So as his tongue pumps steadily into your core, he shifts, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he presses you harder against his face. His jaw works furiously and when his teeth graze against your clit, you lose whatever last vestige of control you’d clung onto.

You’re sobbing through clenched teeth but utterly helpless to stop your hips as they begin churning and grinding against his mouth. Levi hums in approval, and throw your eyelashes, you spot the way his pupils dilate, chasing away the cool silver of his irises and replacing them with something black and hungry.

“Atta girl,” he praises between his thrusts, and the vibrations of his mouth against your heated, sensitive flesh nearly makes you drool. “For once in your life, stop fuckin’ thinking.”

He swirls his tongue around you entrance one more time before he replaces it with his fingers, plunging two into your cunt and curling them. He finds that rough patch on your innermost wall with a near frustrating ease.

It’s infuriating to know that the person you know can’t give you what you really need is somehow the only person who knows exactly how to give you what you want. And, judging by the faint smirk pulling at Levi’s lips they latch around that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you know he can see your resolve crumbling under his feverish mouth.

“You don’t even remember why we were arguing, do you?” He jeers between harsh sucks at your clit as you continue to writhe and cry out for more. “You just wanted to cause a scene; make me sweat a little.”

You want to fight back; you want to tell him that he’s wrong, that you’d meant it when you’d said your relationship had run its course, but he won’t give you the space to do so. Not when he presses his face firm against your center and rocks his head side to side, reducing any protestations you might have had to pitiful whimpers.

“You’ve got my attention, sweetheart. Let’s see if you know what to do with it.”

Levi slips a third finger into your core and you come undone. With his teeth grazing your clit in time with each measured thrust of his fingers into your heat, you shatter against the kitchen counter, hard enough that stars dance in the corners of your eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Levi groans as he continues to lap at your sensitive and overstimulated flesh. “You’re always so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

His praise, coupled with the way his mouth continues to work at your cunt prolongs the waves of your release, until your legs are trembling against the smooth granite of the countertop, and tears are gathered in your eyes. Your walls spasm weakly one final time and then it’s over, your limbs limp and your brain little more than a puddle of liquid between your ears.

Levi steps back and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable; you know, by the way his eyes turn from steel to molten ore that he wants more; wants to take and take and make you bend to him.

You shouldn’t do it; you know you shouldn’t. You know that what’s happening between you is a manifestation of everything that was toxic about your relationship. Levi, always needing to be in control, who only listened when you were at your breaking point, but could never fully give you what you needed. You, who made far too many excuses, who let him dictate the norms of your relationship because it was easy; being with him was easy, until it wasn’t.

So no, you shouldn’t give in; you should stand firm.

You reach for him anyways. “Levi,”

That’s all it takes; a pleading whimper of his name, your hands outstretched toward him, and Levi pounces. His mouth crashes against yours, and his kiss makes you feel whole even though you know he’s tearing your resolve apart.

And you let him; you let him, because you’d sworn you were going to spend your life with him. You believed, without a moment’s hesitation, that Levi was the one for you — the one you’d share the remainder of your days with, the one with whom you’d create and share a family. It was all you’d wanted, and Levi, to his credit, had assured you it was what he’d wanted, too. At least, he did; once.

And, as Levi’s hands slide under you to peel you off the counter, your legs locking around his waist with practiced ease, you know it’s what you still want; he’s what you want.

For all your desperation to have him, Levi is just as eager for you. He pivots you away from the counter, lips still moving heatedly against yours, only to drop you both to the cold tile floor, spreading you out beneath him as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, your neck. He’s too impatient to carry you to the bedroom, his hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt so he can have you then, now, on the kitchen floor.

“‘S been too long,” he pushes the straps of your sundress from your shoulders, yanking the bodice down to expose your. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, and idly you wonder whether you made the subconscious decision to forgo your bra when you dressed that morning, in the event you’d end up here, under him.

His mouth closes around one pert nipple and you think it was the best decision you could have made; for nothing could possibly feel as right as the sensation of his hot mouth and silken tongue swirling around your soft flesh, nipping and sucking his devotion into your skin.

Your chest is heaving as his hands stroke down your body, pushing and pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. Your legs are still little more than jelly thanks to the intensity of your previous climax, but you manage to wrap them around his hips all the same, clenching in an effort to bring him closer.

“Fuck,” he growls, and he imparts one final nip at your breast before he pulls back, his hands hurriedly shoving the waistband of his trousers and briefs down his hips, just far enough that he can pull his cock free. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, ramrod hard, his tip already leaking with his desire.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are hopelessly in need of him.

Your eyes trace back up from where his length stands hard against his belly back to his face. A pretty pink blush has flushed his cheeks, spreading down his neck and chest, and his eyes are glassy with want.

“Levi,” you plead with a soft moan. “Baby, please —“

Baby. You hadn’t called him that often while you were together, but when you had, it was because you’d been so filled with affection — with love — that his name hadn’t been enough.

It was a slip, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex. In an instant his body is covering yours, and he’s moaning into your mouth as one hand ensnares itself in your hair. Between quick kisses, you swear you hear him whisper your name against your lips, before his tongue swipes back in and steals your breath away.

He breaks your kiss to shove a hand between your bodies, gripping himself at his base and giving his length one, solid pump. You shift, spreading your thighs wider, ready to take him and feel whole once more.

He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance and pauses. Impatiently, you buck your hips forward, trying to take him in, but he twists back just far enough that your wetness can only brush against him, a mockery of how you truly need him.

Levi ignores your howl of frustration. “If you want it, then tell me you’ll come home.”

Your teeth clench hard enough to crack, but you won’t give in; not yet, at least.

He’d been right; you wanted him to sweat a little, and damn if you weren’t going to try and bring him to his knees, if only for a bit. At least until he had you back in the palm of his hand, begging for a crumb of his attention.

So with a gritty determination that borders spite, you lock your ankles against his backside and haul him into you with all your might.

“Jesus — fuck!” His yell echoes off the gleaming stainless steel appliances as you force him fully inside you, unwilling to let him win this battle so soon. He falls forward, an arm flinging out beside your head to catch himself.

Your boldness pays off, for Levi is forced remain still, panting hard and his eyes screwed shut as he adjusts to the sensation of being fully buried in your warmth after so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way the muscles in the arm needed by your head ripples under the force of his restraint. Slowly, his eyes open and the darkness in them makes you pulse and contract around his length, your stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Your mouth falls into a perfect “o” as he begins to move once more. He sits back on his knees, back straight, and his hands come to rest on your hips. He tugs you up just enough that your backside rests against the tops of his thighs, your back forced into an arch away from the floor. His gaze drops to where you’re connected, your base pressed flush against his, and the sight of himself embedded so deeply inside you makes the fingers on your hips tighten.

Slowly, and with careful precision, he withdraws his cock from your heat until only his tip remains lodged in your entrance. His eyes flick to yours and then he slams back into you, forcing your breath from your lungs. He repeats the movement again and again, until your lower lip is wobbling and your fingers are sinking into the corded muscles of his forearms, unable to do anything but cling on as he hammers into you.

The stillness of the kitchen is soon disrupted by the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your breathy moans and Levi’s pants. Between the sharpness of his hips and the cold tile of the kitchen floor, you know you’re likely to walk away from this with bruises, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Especially not when Levi is moving like this, each of his thrusts as punishing as they are calculated.

“What’d I say, huh? No one can fuck you like I can.”

Levi more often than not was a soft lover. Kind; generous; prone to taking his time with you, so much so that it was nearly painful, usually leaving you in a tearful puddle on your mattress, begging him for more.

But now, he’s trying to remind you of what you’re leaving behind by leaving him; he’s punishing you as much as he’s begging you to stay.

The thought makes you moan out, wanton and desperate, and the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

His hips snap harshly against yours, choking off the sound in your throat. “So come back home,” and though you know he means for it to sound like an order, his eyes betray his urgency, his desperation to confirm that you hadn’t really meant it; that you’d given up on him in a moment of stress and exhaustion. “Quit being a brat and come home.”

You want to tell him you can’t — that the door had closed on your relationship the moment you’d pulled it shut behind you that day, but try as you might, the words will not form. All that spills from your mouth are broken utterances of his name, and even those flatten out into pathetic whines as Levi’s callused thumb finds your clit and begins to work, determined to haul you to the edge of your sanity and shove you over.

Your legs spasm around his waist as you begin your ascent to that sacred precipice. Your eyes are rolled back, your head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure, white hot and searing, mounts within you, that coil in your belly winding tight with every impassioned movement of his body against yours.

Distantly, you feel his hold on your hips tighten, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppy. You know it’s only a matter of time before one of you succumbs to your release.

He growls your name, the last syllable tapering off in a small whine. “T-tell me — fuck — tell me where.”

Your eyes fly open and meet his, sobering awareness washing over you like a tidal wave.

Only once in the entire course of your relationship, did Levi ask where he was allowed to cum: the beginning. He’d asked the very first time you’d slept with him, legs in the air and over his shoulders, and once you’d made it clear you were on birth control, that had been the end of the discussion. You’d known that if you’d changed your mind, all you’d needed to do was tell him, and he’d adjust. Truthfully, however, you’d not minded the possibility of your birth control failing; you’d been content to let whatever happen, happen.

You’d told him as much, and he’d told you he shared the sentiment.

But that was then; this time, he’s giving you an out. A way to make sure this remains a one-time thing, a moment of weakness between two people too lost and broken to want anything different.

Levi’s eyes widen as the silence stretches between you, and his hips slow until he stops moving all together. The friction mounting where you’re connected is nearly unbearable, and you know the only way to relieve it is to give him an answer — whatever it may be.

This was it; the decision that will make or break you both. For once, he’s out the ball entirely in your court, and whatever comes after this moment of bliss — or frality — ends depends entirely upon you.

“Inside,” you barely manage to squeak, eyes wide and locked unwaveringly with his.

Even Levi hesitates. “Y/N —“

“Inside,” you repeat with slightly more conviction. “Cum inside me, Levi.”

“Your pill?” His hips have already resumed their pace, and you can feel how he’s grown harder at your insistence. But though his body is already moving in accord with your demand, his eyes look ready to bulge out of his skull when you manage the smallest shake your head.

“Inside.” You beg again, and you dig your heel harder into the steely muscle of his backside, limiting how far he’s able to pull his hips back; to pull out at all.

Because damn if he isn’t the only person in the world with whom you could fathom facing the consequences of fucking raw without even the safety net of the tiny blue pills still sitting at your pharmacy, waiting.

“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth, a tendon in his neck throbbing. “Fuck, you want me to give you a baby? So fuckin’ be it. As long as you’ll stay.”

He shifts over you, planting one foot on the ground so he can use his thigh to pin one of your legs back and to the side. His hand shoves under your other thigh, mimicking the position of your other leg as he mounts you, his full weight pressing you harder into the floor and keeping you spread wide for him.

Gone was the calculated precision of his earlier thrusts; now, Levi only presses his groin firmly against yours as he begins to rut, each rock of his hips pushing his length impossibly deeper into your slick warmth.

A cracked moan of his name signals that the blunt tip of his cock has brushed up against that spot within you that Levi knows will have you coming apart in minutes. And so, with a feral gleam sparking to life in his eyes, he shifts himself to press the head of his cock firmly against it, his hips rolling hard enough into you that you begin moving in time with him, your hips lifting up from the floor only to be pushed back by him as he works.

His balls are heavy against the underside of your ass as he continues to rut into you. You know he’s close when you feel him begin to twitch inside you, and the anticipation of being filled by him — so hot and sweet — makes the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

If you thought you were a mess before, the way Levi mounts you on the floor has you nearly screaming with pleasure, so electric and blinding that all sights of the kitchen fade to white, and your eyes flutter shut.

But Levi won’t allow you to check out; not now, not ever.

“Look at me.” His free hand grabs your jaw in an attempt to force you to meet his eyes. You want to give him what he wants, but it’s far too difficult, what with the way yours are glued to the back of your skull, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“L-Levi,” you try and plead, to explain. But he has always demanded more of you than you knew how to give.

“Look at me.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks, insistent. “If you want my baby, then you’re gonna look at me while you cum.”

He’s doing it to prove a point — to prove that he still has control over you, over whatever it is that remains between you. And you, helpless against the whims of your heart, let him have it, because you love him.

Fuck. You love him.

You force your eyelids open to meet his punishing stare, and then his lips are crashing down against yours in a fiery clash of lips and teeth as both of you fight to consume the other. But you lose first, breaking your kiss to cry out as your climax slams into you with the force of a freight train, knocking your breath clean from your lungs.

It’s powerful; the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in memory, one that sends your back arching sharply up from the cool kitchen tile below, and pulls a howl of Levi’s name from your mouth.

You’re still straddled among the clouds of your pleasure when Levi succumbs to his own. His body tenses for a moment and then he’s coming undone, his hips giving one last, mighty push before he explodes.

He cums with a strangled groan that he silences by searing his mouth against your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses within you.

You don’t try to stop the pleasured grin that forms on your mouth, nor the contented hums which vibrate in your chest as you hold him close to you, savoring the feeling of being warm and full of him.

You know you might regret the decision later; but there, spread out across his — your — kitchen floor, Levi’s full weight bearing down upon you as he continues to flood you with his release, you can’t help but feel that maybe this wasn’t the toxic choice at all. Perhaps this is simply a manifestation of everything that is good in your life.

Good. That’s what you decide to tell yourself as you feel Levi’s lips press sleepily against your neck. This is good; this is right.

Because this — he — is your home.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #aot #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #captain levi #levi x you #attack on titan fanfiction

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

 The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down. 

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you. 

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep. 

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue. 

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.  

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up. 

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out. 

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false. 

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again. 

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot. 

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind. 

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you. 

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky. 

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt? 

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them. 

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night. 

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.  

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it. 

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too. 

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck. 

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name. 

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you. 

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you. 

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before. 

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work. 

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air. 

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous. 

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside. 

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey. 

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now. 

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west. 

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains. 

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time. 

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you. 

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it. 

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line. 

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead. 

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride. 

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip. 

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out. 

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you. 

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off. 

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves. 

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly. 

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath. 

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane. 

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him. 

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs. 

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth. 

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.  

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town. 

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock. 

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back. 

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail. 

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself. 

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone. 

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!” 

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it. 

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up. 

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #price x reader #john price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you

[rreids]

CLOSE • A. HOTCHNER X READER

fluff; teasing; banter; fem!reader; cuddling; a massage; crude jokes (one); mentions of oral; protected sex!; they're so into each other; exactly 2k words

an ask for my sleepover event. prompts: i like you so much, it's worrying. cuddling while the other does their work. do whatever you want. first time together.

“Aaron?” You call as you drop your things on the coffee table of his living room. “Honey?”

“In the office!” He answers and you smile to yourself, getting rid of your shoes and jacket. You take the time to grab water and put some ice in it before walking in. He looks up from his paperwork briefly and smiles. 

“Thirsty?” You ask, not caring if he really is as you place the water down on a coaster by his left hand. Aaron just smiles, leaning back slightly as you crawl into his lap and lock your fingers together behind his neck as you nestle into him. 

“Hi,” you whisper after a few moments of him working, tilting and craning your neck to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers, tracing his free hand to your back, rubbing soothing shapes and patterns along your spine. “Long day?”

You nod and make a soft whining sound. “So long. I hate when we’re busy and I have to wear heels because of the clients we’re working with that day, you know that? My feet hurt.” You remember then that he must’ve had a long day too. “Though, I guess you understand. You have to talk politics. That’s like heels for the mind,” you scrunch up your nose and he chuckles.

“Silly girl,” he sighs, more to himself and the room than you. “Do you want a massage later? When I’m not busy.”

“But,” you furrow your brow and try to lean back, but his arm traps you to him as he keeps writing his report. “You had a long day too,”

“I don’t mind spending my nights off making you feel good,” he reminds you, eyes flicking to meet yours. You take his silent invitation and kiss him briefly. “I like you.”

“Not even love?” you despair, and he laughs, the rumbling of his chest setting free butterflies in your own.

“I like you a lot. Actually, I like you so much that it’s worrying,” 

You beam at him, knowing this is his way of saying you mean a lot to him, make him feel out of control of his stoic persona and carefully reigned-in emotions. “Really?”

“Really, pretty girl.”

With that, you let the silence settle, curling into him. His breathing and the soft rustling of paper works almost as a lullaby, your eyes heavily lidded by the time he finishes up and closes the file, his leaning and turning to put it up jolting you back to awareness.

You make a soft whining sound.

“Shh, I know. Did you eat?” When you nod, he sighs, relieved. “Okay, let’s get you ready for bed then.”

“But what about my massage?” You sulk, and he laughs before realizing you’re being serious.

“We can do that. C’mon. Skincare, brush your teeth, get into pajamas, and then I’ll give you a massage.”

By pajamas, he means his clothes. You spend most nights at his place but aren’t officially moved in yet, and you’d taken all your clothes back to yours for washing last time, and didn’t have time to pack any for today.

“Fine,” you drag out the ‘e’, whiny and annoying. He just smiles.

It takes a lot of coaxing and kisses to get you to get ready – one as a reward each time you finish a task; one any time you decide he looks too pretty (which is often, because he’s smiling at you with soft and fond eyes); and one any time he teases or reminds you to finish up.

“Baby,” Aaron huffs out at a laugh, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back slightly, holding you at a distance. “As much as I love your kisses — I do, really –, if you want that massage you need to hurry up.”

You scowl at him but there’s suddenly much more haste to your movements.

When you flop down on his mattress and turn expectantly to look at him, he’s shirtless. Your mouth dries and you yelp at the sight, covering your eyes. “What?” He asks, and when you peek again he’s in a pajama shirt.

“Nothing…” you mumble, trying not to sound too sulky as you realize the view is gone.

His brows raise but he says nothing, settling behind you. His fingers trace the hem of your shirt. “Can I push this up?”

You nod eagerly and he brings it up to your shoulders. 

“Where hurts the most?”

“My lower back,” you complain, guiding his hand. “It’s like… I dunno. But it hurts like a bitch.”

He’s used to you trying to compare things before running out of words and whining, just smiling at you. “Okay, well, the lotion will be cold. Brace yourself.”

It is cold, and you squirm until his warm and calloused hands begin to rub it. Then, you’re deathly still, hyper-aware of his movements and the rolling press of his thumb pressing deep on a corded muscle.

You have to remind yourself to breathe, and it’s shaky when you do. Aaron doesn’t comment on it, methodically working inch by inch and muscle by muscle up your back. When his knuckle digs in by your shoulder, clearly finding a deep trigger point.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Too much?” He asks, beginning to pull back.

“No. Hurts. But in a good way.”

Aaron hums and presses back on the spot with a little less force, working and tugging the muscle until you feel it relaxing with the gentle slide of his hand pulling it to relax.

“Oh,” you moan, voice soft and airy. “You’re really good at this. Maybe you should be a masseuse. You’d be home more.” He doesn’t comment, moving to the same spot on the other side. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want you touching other girls.”

Aaron laughs. “Men okay? I could think of people on my team who would love a massage.”

You pout into the mattress. “But you’re mine, you can’t do that.”

“I’m yours?”

“Mhm!” You chirp, the happy sound melding into another moan as he releases another knot. “All mine.”

Aaron smiles and kisses your shoulder. “All yours,” he agrees, voice soft. 

You smile. “Aaron,”

“__,”

“Can you do my legs, too? If your hands aren’t too tired…”

“How tall were the heels you wore?” He questions, shifting quickly to give you what you want, helping you flip onto your back before pushing your knees apart slightly, just enough so that he can slip a hand under your calf and support it on his thigh to give him room to work the muscles. “You’re so tight.”

You try not to flush at the double meaning, since you know he doesn’t mean it, but you fail, squirming to close your thighs.

“Hm,” Aaron smiles, pressing slightly more firmly against the muscle, watching how the surrounding ones twitch at the sensation and force. “You’re sensitive.”

“You try wearing stilettos.” There’s no bite to your voice.

“You think I’d look good in them?”

You consider for a moment. “Yeah. As long as you were confident and didn’t slouch, you’d look hot.”

Aaron laughs easily. “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, baby,” 

You moan softly in lieu of response as he begins working your thighs. It’s so close to where you’re starting to ache to feel him, and it’s also just a really nice massage.

When he lets his hand trace the hem of your shorts (his boxers that you’re wearing as shorts, to be specific), you jolt. “What are you doing?”

“Am I wrong in thinking you want it?”

“No…” you mumble, suddenly getting shy. “But we haven’t…”

“It’s okay, __, we don’t have to.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to,” you whine, sitting up and curling your legs under you. “I just don’t want it to be like some happy-ending massage porno.”

He snorts. “Silly girl,” it’s the same teasing from earlier, but his voice has dropped and his eyes are more hooded as he looks at you. “You want this?”

You nod before whispering a soft “yeah”, melting into him as his arms encircle you and he kisses you deeply. It’s warm and heady, deep, passionate, hungry kisses that are infuriatingly slow, savoring your taste and plushness of your lips. He leans you back into the mattress with the kisses, body crowding you to flatten to the sheets.

“Aaron, don’t tease,” you whisper. “We can try that another time.”

His lips quirk up into a smile before he brings the kisses down your neck, and you drop your head back to give him more room. He tugs your shirt off the rest of the way, from where it’s still rucked up your torso partially from the massage.

“So pretty,” the words rush out before you can even begin to worry about his reaction, lowering himself to roll your nipples between his fingers and leave kisses on your flesh. “And all mine.”

You smile at the way his words mirror yours from earlier, but you can’t form speech as his fingers trace you over the boxers. It’s soft and delicate, curious and exploratory as your hips cant for more friction and twitch under him.

“Can I?” He tugs the waistband and you eagerly kick out of them the second he tugs again. He laughs at your excitement, biting his lip as he drinks in the sight of you splayed on his bed.

“I want to taste you.”

You whine at the idea, turned on and also frustrated. “Next time.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I do, but ‘m so empty, Aaron,” you whine, hoping it’ll spur him. “Need to feel full.”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures, yanking off his shirt. The view is just as good as before.

You help him pull off the boxers, swallowing at the sight of his cock. So pretty, just like the rest of him. Exactly what you needed.

“Please,” you whine as he shuffles closer and you wrap your legs behind his back, locking him against you. 

Aaron pauses and reaches over you to the nightstand, quickly and carefully opening the condom and rolling it down his length. “Gotta treat you right.” He guides himself against you, studying your heaving chest and blown out eyes.

“Well, you can do that by fucking me—”

Aaron cuts off your complaint with a smooth roll of his hips into you, the words dying on your tongue as you sigh happily.

“You know I’ll do whatever you want,” Aaron tells you, as if he’s not fucking into you with slow, purposeful, and powerful thrusts that have your walls fluttering around him. “Tell me to fuck you, I’ll go until I can’t.”

You swallow. “That a promise?”

“For next time,” he teases, head falling back with a silent moan as he picks up his pace. He brings his thumb to your clit, and he’s just as good at working it as he is working knots out of your muscles.

“God,” you whine. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Aaron asks, slowly going a little harder and angling his hips until you keen. “There we go…” he murmurs to himself and your breaths hitch like little sobs in your throat.

“So good,” you affirm, squirming as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Give it to me. Cum around me,” Aaron orders, and you whine, muscles all quivering and tensing as you fall over the edge.

Your hazy mind can still process his groans and flushed, sweat-slick skin, and the stutter to his hips as he fills the condom and collapses next to you after tying and tossing it into the trash. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, still gasping for air as you come down.

“Hey, __?” He asks and you hum, breath slowly evening out. “I like you,”

You scoff at him, “so much it’s worrying?”

“Yeah, actually.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you roll to your side to kiss it away.

“Well, I feel the same way about you,” you whisper.

really love how the banter and dynamic came out in this one... the prompts selected worked together wonderfully

#my works #📚 sleepover #mdni #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fluff

[fqiryspit]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧.𝐣

eren jaeger x fem!reader

"whose perfume is that?"

cw: 2k words, suspicions of cheating, stressing, reader and eren are married, pussy eating, shower sex, tongue fucking, dick sucking, sex in a semi-public place, v n p sex, no condom, slight corruption kink, manhandling, dom!eren, sub!reader

you pushed your hair behind your ear as you sucked in your cheek, flipping the next page as your head shot up at the sound of your front door closing.

uncrossing your legs and arms wide you grinned at a tired, stressed eren.

"long day?" you mumbled into his button up, an airy laugh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around you so tightly

"horribly" he added, digging his nose into your hair as he sighed, grateful to be home.

after that, he stripped from his sweaty attire and hopped into the shower as you prepared dinner, this calm lifestyle suiting you both as he decided to leave work at work and rarely snapped with stress

it's perfect. you knew when to embrace him after a long day and when to stay clear, you're not tip-toeing around him or anything, you're just picking up on his hints.

you love that..-picking up on hints that is. but not so much when it comes to perfume on his collar and staying out late. not at all.

you twirled the ring on your finger, teeth gnawing at your lip making it bloody and bruised. 2 hours late? dinners cold and your patience is thin.

he would've texted.

That's all you can think. but maybe it's hard to type a simple "gonna be late" when you're balls deep in-

"baby?"

he's home.

you're crossed-legged on your shared bed and you don't know if you wanna see him. you almost want him to stroll past you and just shower so you don't have to see his messy hair or smell another women's fragrance

"honey? are you out?"

why isn't he letting up? are you crazy? is this-

"fuck, there you are" he sighed, walking into the bedroom as he shrugged off his coat he usually hangs up in the doorway, was he really that adamant on finding you that he couldn't put his coat up? was he scared that you packed up and left, or just being a good husband? you feel insane.

he tossed it to the floor like it didn't cost 500 dollars and walked over to you, muscles straining his top as he scoops your cheeks up to look at him

"are you okay? did something happen?" he is actually worried and you're a horrible person.

"uh- no sorry, just worried about you...took a while for you to come home" you whispered, he looked at you for another minute to check if everything was alright before laying down next to you

"my phone died, sorry honey, dumbasses made me stay late and traffic was a bitch." he mumbled into the matters as you moved to lay down next to him

"mm" you hummed in response, gliding your fingers softly into his already undone hair as he lightly moans into the sheets

"missed you all day" he adds, rolling over after a minute and standing, unbuttoning his shirt

halfway done he leans in, trapping your now upright form with his hands at either side of you,

"how 'bout you join me in the shower?" he grins, waiting for your answer as your face heats up rapidly

"ok" you whisper, excitement pooling into your panties as he stares into you

he scoops you up, bringing you to the bathroom, and placing you on the counter, lips smacking against yours in almost a panic as he separates you and puts the shower on. you look over at the immediate steam as he put it to the hottest tempt. stripping your shirt off with a clean swipe and pulling your pants off with your soaked panties

as the bathroom fogs with steam, he kneels down, licking up your cunt, his groans at your heat and pulsing pussy, wrapping your thighs around him as he laps at you like a starved man

sliding his tongue into your cunt with ease, he starts fucking you with it as tears pool out of your eyes, and beg him to keep going

with cum dripping from his chin and him licking every last drop, he holds your weary frame as he enters the shower to have his way with you.

it was amazing, hand holding against the cold tile as hot steam keeps you warm, his cock sliding in and out of you as he spills praises of "so fucking gorgeous" "been thinkin' bout this all day" "so fuckin' perfect for me" "I love you so much"

the rest of the night was a blur with a sore body and him taking care of you, ordering take-out because of the cold dinner, and you cuddled up with him watching horrible tv shows while eating.

it was truly, perfect.

dumbass forget his lunch.

you text him a warning of your arrival and he responded with a "can't wait 😉"

you scoffed and hopped into your car, trying to make this fast and praying he'd be at the entrance because a tee shirt and jeans isn't an outfit you wanna meet his coworkers in.

you sighed and parked as you accepted your fate in going in. you sucked your bottom lip in as you looked like a mother bringing your forgetful child lunch mid-class.

you talked to the receptionist who had a glare on her with a verrry tight top that made you feel even more like an outcast.

"and who are you to mr. jaeger?" she said, valley accent heavy on her lips

"I'm his wife..." you cleared your throat, knowing this might be a problem

"you know...I can just call him and have him down here-" you rambled, trying to get this to end as embarrassment flooded you

"ma'am, I'll call him, okay?" she scoffed and you just had your lips in a tight line and waited.

after forever, she gave you the go-ahead to go upstairs, you thanked her and went onto the elevator where you thought out a message to leave eren because why the fuck didn't he come downstairs

you felt more secure now, if this is you before you'd be assuming the worst, but, you've been trying to stop that and just trust your damn husband

as the elevator doors open all eyes were on you and you suddenly felt like you were gonna die again. you shuffled out, scared to bother anyone as you moved through the busy halls

you saw a woman with jet-black hair cut short as she moved empty-handed, you stopped her shyly and asked if she knew eren and if so, where he'd be

"why do you need to see eren?" she questioned immediately, you sighed again, not wanting to go through receptionists 2.0

"I'm his wife" you answered for the 50th time, her eyes darkened slightly before putting on the fakest smile you've ever seen

"oo, I'm mikasa" she said as if you'd know, you nodded like you did but she caught on you were oblivious

"me and eren are great friends" she added to save her point, you nodded again, not caring too much about his work friends but more so him

"yeah, we've been friends since-" she pushes air out of her mouth as she moves a hand on her hip "gosh, I don't even know how long"

"that's nice" you said, a little too aggressive than you wanted it to be, her eyes moved to yours and she stood straight again with a sly grin on her lips

"there's no need to worry between him and I, I mean, the people here call me his wife because we're so close but I'm sure they know you as well"

this bitch

"that's nice," you repeated before taking a breath "eren doesn't talk a lot about work so I had no idea he made friends"

her eye twitched slightly and you were pleased, passive aggressiveness strong in your cheery voice as you just wanted to leave

"he probably didn't wanna worry you"

"about what?" you answered right anyway, knowing you fell into her trap and this would take long she put another almost surprised face on

"I mean, we go out a lot and people talk is all." you stared uninterested at her, taking a deep breath in and getting a hint of perfume, the same one eren had sprinkled on his collar

"like, going out to lunch and dinner isn't a big deal, but, people think that your rings on my finger haaa" she ended with an airy laugh, and you nodded with a tight-lipped smile and she finished up the conversation, and finally pointing to his fucking office

you said your goodbyes and walked into there where eren was signing some unimportant papers

"baby took you long enough" he whined, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around you, moved back to lock his lips with you as you stood almost motionless

"everything okay?" he asked backing up and taking a look at your frame

"ran into mikasa...your work wife" you said, annoyed.

"shit, she won't leave me alone...what did she say to you?" he stood up walking towards you worried she messed with you

"nothing, here's your lunch-" you lifted the small bag up but he just sighed and asked again, "what did she say?"

you bit a chunk of your cheek, deciding to do this now rather than later

"lunches, dinner, rumors, and her perfume always on your shirt coming home" you answered simply, obviously pissed off with the situation

"dammit, I'm sorry babe, I'll talk to her-"

"no, I want you to talk to me...dinners eren? is that why you're coming home late and missing mine?" you asked, he stared at you, collecting his thoughts with a tightened jaw

"she asked me to go to a place down the street once, I said yes, I made it home in time still. all those times I came home late yes I was working. goodness babe- I- I can't believe you're even asking this" he said, moving his hands around

"I'm asking because her perfume is always on you when you come home" you said, keeping your voice low

"because goodbye hugs are a part of her nightly routine, she works with me all day, hugs and lunches are normal" he pleas

"can you keep your distance from her? she's head over heels for you eren and that shit scares me" he stared at you, almost shocked

"what scares you? me or her?" he asked, not willing for a half-assed answer

"I- that bitch would tear any relationship up, do you see her?"

"so you think I'd fuck her? takes two babe." he added and you scramble to collect your thoughts

"I- I know you wouldn't do that-" "fuck, y/n, w-were married and you think I'd fall for an employee that has a crush on me?"

"who cares about what she fucking calls herself, at the end of the day I come home to you, I fuck you" he says, keeping his voice low but firm as you stood there feeling guilty

"I'm sorry" you answered and his eyes softened, you did truly feel bad for questioning his loyalty this much

"I'm sorry that you had to go crazy alone and hear that bullshit from her.." he hugs you, kissing your forehead as he rubs circles on your back

once he pulled away he looked at you as you stared up at him, almost waiting.

he leaned down and kissed you, loving at first but becoming frantic as he pressed himself against you, getting somewhat hard

"e-eren" you scolded, here? right now?

"fuck, hold on" he lead you to a personal bathroom with a complete counter, putting you up there you feel heat pool everywhere as he stood hard in his pants

"do I need to fuck your head straight? hm?" he asked, whispering on your lips as he dips down to kiss you and rubbing himself

a whine escaped your lips, bucking your hips up as you felt your wet pussy throb for his cock

he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, jerking himself until he was fully hard

you kissed him, moving down from the counter as his brow twitched in confusion until you sunk down to your knees

"'m sorry" you mumbled, licking up his tip as he groaned. you moved your mouth across the thick vein lining his tanned cock as your pussy ached for it to choke you, you humped your thigh desperately as you sucked on the head

"fuck, you're that horny baby? didn't I just fuck you?" he groaned out, you put him into your mouth fully as you moaned on how it choked you. it's all you want right now, to have his huge cock down your throat as you hump yourself for forgiveness

he groaned digging his nails into your hair as he fucked your throat right away, you loved how your throat ached and how tears pooled out of your eyes

"fuck, you like that baby? touch yourself, touch that fucking pussy f'me"

you listen, unzipping your pants and sliding your hand down to start rubbing your swollen clit

"aw baby, feels good, feels good being a slut?" he coos but you nod, it felt great with him using you, it's all you wanted.

"fuuck" he groaned, coming close as your eyes crossed and you came on your fingers, all you wanted is his cum

you rode your fingers expecting to get a mouth full of cum but he removed his cock from your throat

"fuck, 'wanna cum in that pussy baby...did you already cum" he sighed, having his hands run through his hair as you nodded

"riding your fingers now 'cuz you want more?" he asked, taunting you with his cock in your face

"m-mhm" you choked on your tears, leaning in you sucked his cock again as he groaned

"fuuck, you're such a slut" he moved your hair back and titled it towards him

"take your filthy fingers out of your pussy and lick them" he ordered and you did so right away, sticking your fingers down your throat as your oral fixation was healed

he picked you up back on the counter and took your pants off and shoved his cock into your pussy, you cried, telling him it was too big but he just started fucking you,

so full of cock you cried as your pupils spun, squirting everywhere as he rubbed your clit to get another one out of you

"again, cum again" he said, slamming his hips against yours and his cock felt so good all you wanted was to be full of him, always.

with shaking thigh you came again, his pace hurried as he cursed under his breath. he came deep into your womb and kissed up your neck, sweaty hair getting pushed back with his hand as your fucked out flushed face stared dizzily at him

an: I'm waaaay too tired to read through that again, but, I hope you enjoyed! I can't believe I actually made a full 2k fic! I'm feeling a little shy posting such smut but whatever I'll close my eyes once I hit post :) oh, and I for once did "maybe cheating" troupe with an actual innocent eren, who would have thought!! haha, love you guys <3

#eren jeager #eren yeager #eren attack on titan #eren yeager oneshot #eren yeager imagines #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager fic #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager imagine #eren yeager x you #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger angst #eren jaeger fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager imagine #eren jeager attack on titan #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x y/n #eren jeager x you #eren jeager imagines #eren jaeger #aot x y/n #aot smut #attack on titan smut