Discovery

discovery

Pairing: König x Male Reader Summary: During your first time together, you learn some surprising things about König. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. First time together, top!reader, submissive virgin!König, fingering, protected anal, aftercare.

A pleased hum rumbles through your chest when you deepen the kiss, König opening his mouth so your tongue can slide in as he allows himself to be pushed flatter against the couch. You stay like that for a few more minutes, bathing in the heat shared between your bodies, desire increasing in your veins at the quiet moans that he lets out as he sinks into you.

It all stops when you plant a hand on König's thigh, fingers trailing up and up closer to his crotch when he sucks in a nervous breath, stuttering out an embarrassed "W-wait."

You stop immediately, withdrawing your hand and sitting up. "Is everything ok?" you ask, the genuine concern in your voice making butterflies flutter in König's stomach.

He's thankful he still has the safety of his hood - he can hide the deep crimson blush creeping up on his cheeks as he readjusts the fabric so his face is covered again. He sighs, following you up to sit in an upright position and pauses, attempting to sort the jumbled thoughts in his head before speaking. “I… haven’t done this before.” He steels himself, prepared for the reaction, anxiety flooding in about how you’d judge him, leave him for someone with more experience, who can give you the pleasure you want. 

“Oh.” Here it comes, the rejection, leaving him to wither in a puddle of self deprivation- “That’s ok, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

His eyes shoot to your face, searching for any sign of doubt but he finds none, just you looking at him with an easy, reassuring smile. König is silent for a moment, brain trying to process what you just said. “W- what?”

You take his hand, thumb rubbing assuredly across his knuckles. “If you don’t want to do anything, we won’t.” His stomach flips, how you accept it so easily, but deep down, he does want this, wants to experience it with you.

“No mein liebling, I want to.”

* * * 

Soon enough you have him on his hands and knees in front of you, palm smoothing down the curve of his spine to try and help him relax. His cock twitches in interest as you gradually move lower and lower towards his hole. “Are you ready?” You ask, and when he nods you clarify. “Need to hear you say it König.”

He breathes heavily, his face burning with embarrassment. “I’- I’m ready.”

“Just tell me if you need me to stop and I will.” His body tenses when he hears the cap on the bottle of lube click open, but you’re quick to notice, hand continuing its trail up and down his spine after you’ve dolloped some lube on your other hand, spreading it around as much as you can one handed.

You continue until he’s relaxed again, limbs looser than before. “Good boy,” you praise, goosebumps gathering on his skin.

Bringing a finger to his hole he flinches when he first feels the contact, body jumping away from the digit. You keep your hand still, moving from his spine to his hip, rubbing circles into the skin as he breathes. He moves back, fighting to keep still as you finally press a finger against his hole, spreading the lube until he’s used to the feeling.

Doing this for a few moments, you’re surprised when he speaks up, a hint of desperation in his tone. “M-more please.” Teasing the tip of your finger against his rim you gently apply pressure, opening him up more and more until you can just barely slide in, pausing to let him adjust. 

You can hear how heavy he breathes, and you lean down to trail kisses down his spine, hoping to offer some comfort. “That’s it, just breathe.” He sighs when you begin to move your hand again, teasing the finger in and out until you’re knuckle deep, massaging his gummy walls. He groans when you push all the way in, cock underneath twitching, pearls of white gathering at the tip.

Slowly you introduce a second finger in the same way you did the first until he’s rocking back against you, chasing the heat broiling in his belly. His breathing picks up and he lowers a hand to his cock, rapidly beginning to fuck into his hand as he cries and moans with pleasure, orgasm approaching unexpectedly fast. 

Letting him use your fingers he soon arches with a harsh, final cry, cock erupting with strings of white as he paints his hand, splashing up to his chest as his cock rocks with his thrusts. Body twitching around your fingers he collapses forward onto his arms as your fingers slip from his hole, his chest heaving as he comes down from his orgasm. 

He’s dazed, muttering something in German you don’t quite catch, seemingly in his own world until he feels you shift behind him, your palm feeling scalding hot against his skin as you bring him back. “You ok?” 

He takes a moment before finally speaking. “Yes,” he nods, causing you to shuffle back as he flips himself onto his back, giving you little time to react before he takes a fistful of your shirt and pulls you down towards him, capturing your lips with his own. Pressing your body against his he whimpers against your lips when he feels the bulge in your pants rock against him, and all anxiety is gone when he breaks apart. “Please fuck me.”

Groaning you press your mouth to his, stealing the air from his lungs when you lift back, standing to strip yourself of your clothes, cock hard and weeping once it's released from its confines. 

König gulps, your cock now looking a lot bigger without anything concealing it. Desire wins out over his anxiety, and his legs willingly part when you settle between them, rolling a condom down your cock and drizzling some lube along your shaft. Pressing your head against his entrance you test his reaction as he feels something bigger trying to penetrate him. 

He arches against you as the first inch slides in, a pained hiss filling the air as he opens around you. Your hips stop when his hole clenches around you like a vice, König throwing his head back. Shifting back you let your cock slip from him completely before inching back in, following the rhythm again and again until pain gives way to pleasure, choked sobs finally showing that he’s beginning to enjoy it.

It’s a while before you’re completely bottomed out, and here you stop, letting König control when you move. He’s quiet apart from hushed pants, but a hand closes around your wrist, and he manages to stutter out “Y-you c-can move.”

Agonisingly slow you draw halfway out and push back in, König moaning at the feeling. He’s like a tight fist around you, but with each movement it becomes easier, until finally you can set a decent pace, your hips slapping against his ass with each thrust.

Unable to stay quiet he gasps and moans, strong legs wrapping around your waist to dig his heels into the bottom of your back, encouraging you to keep going. He wraps a hand around his cock, dripping and flushed at the tip and begins to jerk himself off, body unsure of whether he wants to fuck back against you or into his grip.

You pick up your thrusts, pulling a high pitched whine from König as you catch his prostate, focusing on hitting that spot again and again until he’s seeing stars, body ascending into pleasure as he comes with a hoarse cry, hole clenching and twitching around your cock as he releases his load onto his chest.

Close to your own high you continue with your thrusts, your rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate as the coil tightens in the pit of your stomach. Just one look at the pleasured expression on König’s face and one, two, three more thrusts you’re coming undone, pleasure seeping through your veins as you fill the condom, your hips jerking in small, shaky thrusts as König’s hole milks you dry.

Keeping yourself from collapsing on top of him you move a hand to cup his face, giving him a moment to recover before asking. “Are you alright? How was it?” He just nods, something you take as a good sign, brain too scrambled in his head to say anything.

He whines when you try to move, shaky arms clinging to you as you keep him anchored. You press a kiss to his temple, gently shushing him. “I’m just going to get something to clean you up, I’ll be back soon.” König relents, releasing you from his grasp and you go on wobbly legs, disappearing into the bathroom. He briefly hears the trickling of water over his heartbeat in his ears, and lies back down, trying to get his breathing under control.

When he hears your footsteps he cranes his head, watching as you return to bed with a damp cloth, the condom already discarded. His limbs feel like they’re weighed down, and he can’t do much as you gently wipe away the evidence of his release across his chest, his skin cooling as the cloth drags across his skin. 

Once he’s as clean as you can get him you return the cloth to the bathroom and slide under the bed sheets, barely getting comfy before König uses the last of his strength to shuffle up beside you, leaning half his weight onto your side as he rests his head on your chest, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy.

Your hand immediately combs through his hair, lulling him closer and closer to sleep as he melts onto you, almost purring like a content cat. “Was that what you wanted?” you question, a smile breaking out across your face as he relaxes on you.

He barely responds, a quiet “Mhm” and a barely-there nod as his breathing evens out, falling asleep against you. Trying to contain your laugh your chest barely shakes, König trying to burrow closer against your skin. You continue gently scratching his scalp until weariness calls, lying your head back as you try to sleep as well.

my favs: your mic isn’t muted!?

prompt: doing some … naughty things with my discord kittens (usage is ironically)

: ̗̀➛ favs featured : nanami, vash, ace, and qrow | gn! reader sub! character

o(*≧▽≦)ツ darling’s note: i just realize... qrow's had nothing to do with a mic, but he's still a gamer so it counts in my book. yes two stories back to back with ace and nanami, i didn't plan it... ace is just gamer material.. (☆▽☆)

now playing: private landing - don toliver, justin bieber, and future

nanami from jujustu kaisen:

nanami hates zooms, can’t most of this stuff be just a simple email. yet all it was, was a whole bunch of dickheads in suits showing off their fancy plaques in the background. better yet, he could tell most of them weren’t even paying attention. not like he was any better; he was also distracted by something of his own.

what was the distraction?

it was under his desk, between his strong thighs. you are forcing him to widen them. licking his tip and pressing your tongue under the glands on his tip. nanami looks down, the dark lust of your eyes, staring right into his. "when are you.. shit.. honey.. please," nanami bites the palm of his hand. gripping the desk, giving a few glances at the zoom. no one had noticed he wasn’t even taking notes of the conference.

"hm?" you pop yourself off his cock, giving him a small grin. "please.. keep going," nanami whispers, his cock twitching in your hand. pre-cum oozing down the tip, you felt yourself throb, going back for seconds on his cock. he leaned back, forcing more of his cock down your throat. "your mouth.. shit.. shit shit…" you grab his hands, tying them up with the belt of his pants that you undid. nanami’s mouth was freely open; no hand could cover the slight drool down the corner of his mouth.

he felt himself trying to break out of the looped belt, tugging against it, especially when you started fondling with his balls, swirling them around in your hand. nanami hisses quietly, rolling his hips into your mouth since his arms were occupied.

you caressed under his thigh, inching closer to his asshole. the cold lube against his hot body, he wanted to plead with you to stop but was fearful of how loud his voice would come out. nanami felt a finger going inside him, a spike of pleasure hit him, knocking the breath out of him. a loud gasp left him.

suddenly the speaker stopped. nanami looked at his computer; his mic was unmuted.

"nanami is there something wrong?"

how does one explain to their boss that their current partner is fingering his aching hole?

vash from stampede:

vash wasn’t sure what was in the air. was it the new season? finals coming up? or you? having a crush on your best friend is never fun, especially if you don’t know their true feelings. the brushing hands, the long staring contests, and the slight glare of lust you had when he had come out of swimming class.

college was tough and kicked his ass, yet every night playing video games with his friends never failed to relieve some of that stress. it was just him, nicholas, meryl, nai (who rarely joined, he had taken almost every difficult class possible, making gaming his last priority), and you. 

it was just any other night, everyone was here. while playing an online first person shooter, agents were selected and everything was fine. that was until the next round, when you decided to stay behind on one of the defending sites, earning the enemy the chance to surround you.

"guys! they are all coming here!" vash hears you yell into the mic. urgency in his voice as he said he was on his way. your character stays crouched in the corner, holding line of fire, the steps of the enemy getting closer to you. 

one of them turned around, announcing your character’s position. all of them surrounding you, before a gun was fired. vash had stood behind them, his character shooting all of them. you widen your eyes, seeing the victory announcement across his screen. 

"holy shit! i could fuck you right now!" you cheered into the mic, meryl groaning in disgust. she had gotten used to it, gamers had their own ways of expressing their excitement. "please do," vash whispers, assuming his mic has been muted. the call went silent. 

nicholas breaks the silence, "let’s go for another?" suggesting a topic change, while vash groans into the palms of his hands (muted this time). a ding could be heard, vash raising his head. 

"you mean that?" vash gulped, telling the group that he would have to get off early.

vash heard a knock on his door and got up. brushing the dust off, opening the door, he sees you in your sleepwear, out of breath. "should we confess first or do it after i fuck you dumb?" you were a bit feral. vash blinking a few times.

"both?" vash rubs the back of his neck, laughing quietly.

you made him get off another way that night.

ace from one piece:

challenge: dean stop using gifs from this scene... failed

ace snacked on some popcorn, the loud chewing in the mic. you sigh, ace starts chuckling. "you’re lucky i’m on vacation right now, or else you would be in a chokehold." pretty please.. ace’s massive crush on you was a little shameless, constantly flaunted himself to you.

"hey! hurry up, we are leaving!" ace heard something in the background; it seemed like one of your friends was calling you. you acknowledged them, pausing the movie. "and where are you going?" ace puts down his popcorn, sitting up. "some nice place, i’ll send a photo. but i have to go now, i’ll see you later." ace hums, waiting for the photo. you left the call, ace is still in it. assuming you wouldn’t take too long, it was the weekend and he didn’t have anything to do. the sound notification appeared, ace clicking on it to see a fully naked photo of you. he widens his eyes. god he should stop looking at it. he should delete it and wait for you to come back to fix the mistake. yet he finds himself, huffing into the mic. what seemed like primal lust overcoming his sensible mind.

lowering his pants, he checks the photo once more. closing it out, feeling a sense of nasty guilt. remembering how your body looked—the lewd pose—you did this on purpose. how could you not? fuck, he was throbbing in his pants. ace holding his shirt up with his teeth, his pants reaching his ankles.

the first stroke was just the start, it was almost like a disaster, once it started it was nonstop, rapidly getting faster. "…fuck, come on please" ace groans into the mic, it wasn’t enough. he needed something…something to just get him over the edge. opening the photo again, ace had to tighten his grip around his cock, for fear of cumming so early.

"why…why," ace pleads, shaking his head. bucking his hips into his fist. his hand getting soaked in precum. slouching over his desk, looking down at his pathetic hard cock. he was so close, so fucking close. all he needed was your voice, or even better, your touch. ace hated and loved controlling his orgasm as if he were already yours.

"ace.." he heard your voice saying his name, and the rest turned into a mush of words. ace cums into a napkin, moaning your name. feeling panic, but quickly it died, realizing he had probably muted his mic before starting this session.

"did you just moan my name?" you ask in the voice chat. ace sobered up from his orgasm quickly, seeing his mic was indeed unmuted the entire time. going back to the chat, the photo is gone. "i’m sorry i had sent that photo, but i see you didn’t mind it" you chuckled, glad that ace had the same desire for you as you had for him.

qrow from rwby:

DEAR GOD THIS UILF ???????

you stood in front of qrow, who was leaning back on the couch. snacking on whatever he could find in the kitchen. "yes dear?" he asks. moving his head to try to see the tv behind you. "remember when you said you were better at games than me?" you grinned, and he nodded. pausing the tv. placing the remote on the armrest. leaning back, his legs spread open. it was inviting but you had another plan in mind.

"i have a challenge for you," you grin. qrow nods.

"you are seriously a pervert," qrow mumbles, sitting on the couch. his pants and boxers on the other side of the living room, he sighs, feeling the vibrator shift in his asshole. "you accepted it! you’re just as much of a pervert as me," you grin, kissing his lips. you saw how quickly he agreed with the idea.

"the rules are simple, just don’t die." you lean your head on your hands, sitting next to qrow. he presses start, a little nervous seeing his character spawn in. what he didn’t know was that the save file was on the hardest difficulty, which he quickly noticed after seeing his character die on the first boss. feeling slight vibrations in his ass, he widens his eyes. "what the-" another death happened when he was too focused on giving you a stink eye. another level, qrow grips the controller. almost crushing it under his palm.

"come on, pay attention," you signal at the screen, and another wave appears in front of qrow’s character. he bites his lip, shifting in his seat. earning the vibrator to go deeper into his ass, almost touching his prostate. "shit, you fucking—no, turn it off now" another loud yell came not from qrow but from his character. another death, another level. no safe word was said, allowing yourself to smile innocently at the man.

qrow had to survive until the last setting. how hard was that? it was a bulletproof plan!

then that last setting came. qrow was shaking, after his third time cumming and some blanks, he was just barely at the second stage, bucking his hips into the air as he came again for the fourth time. gripping the controller in his hand and resting his head on the couch, trying to catch his breath.

he saw your evil grin on your face, knowing the only thing that would stop it was him admitting defeat.

Could I request more Y/N x male!Reader? Either Thy Starry Crown or modern!AU, that is if requests are open:))

Thy Starry Crown

(part four)

Male!reader x WMFTD!Y/N (endgame), Y/N x others

Word count:5.3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, sex, war, trama, unwanted attempted kiss (not between reader/YN)

Notes: omg, thank you so much for waiting. Got sick again 🙃and life got crazy for a bit. I hope this is close to what you were wanting and that you like it! <3 Thank you so much for the fun request. 

The Masterlist (look for the title for the rest of the parts)

~

(Shortly before the war, mid teens, studying under Patroclus)

Back home, you were used to far more simple things. You loved your home - or rather you loved your family- but it was small and overcrowded. There had been nothing but fields and livestocks for miles.  Almost no one could read or write; so books and such were luxuries you could only dream about.

You took a deep breath of the salty sea air as you sat down at one of the empty docks, feet dangling over the water. Gulls cried out as they swooped and dived into the beautiful cerulean waters. In the far distance, fishermen worked as their ships bobbed on the waves. 

No, you couldn’t have imagined this. 

It was a good reminder of what you came out to do so you dug through your satchel and pulled out the scroll. It was an older story, a fable about Poseidon and the creation of horses.

It was embarrassing to admit that you couldn’t read, especially when surrounded by books and scrolls in Patroclus’ study. There had been so many. Only Patroclus didn’t shame you or send you back home, he simply picked out a scroll and began to sound out letters. 

Now months later, you were able to read and write on your own and were understanding more everyday. There was a joy to reading you never knew about and you were single handedly devouring your way through the family’s library.

Patroclus had chuckled when he realized. “I will have to take us to the shops soon anyway. Perhaps we can start with the advanced lessons much sooner than I thought.” 

The swell of pride in your chest followed you for the rest of day, enough that Y/N had rolled his eyes at dinner when he noticed. You had looked away, cheeks warm at being so oblivious. 

The memory was enough to pull you out the story, the papyrus rough against your fingers.

Foolishly, you had hoped for a word to describe exactly what Patroclus’ son was to you. Between your lessons and his training, you and him were both busy and he never seemed friendly. If anything, He was right down mocking during the rare opportunity. Only to be kind later. 

Sometimes when it was just you and him, he would ask about your studies and quietly listen with a faint smile that made your stomach fluttered. 

You couldn’t help but notice him. He had hit a growth spurt over the summer months and now easily loomed over you. Once you had caught him training when you peeked out the window and your breath caught at the sight of powerful muscles under sweat shined flesh.

A cool breeze ruffled your hair and you realized how warmed your cheeks were. Even the back of your neck. And the tips of your ears.

You sighed. Somehow you forced yourself back to studying, even though you had to make the word stick by sheer willpower. 

It was almost sundown by the time you finished your studying, your understanding of the story and what the writer’s intentions written down in a codex Patroclus had given you. After dinner, you and Patroclus will talk about it with the warmth of the hearth on your back. 

With a stretch, you began the walk home. The path took you from the beach to the patch of woodland, the trees ancient and beautiful with the golden rays shining through the glossy leaves. 

Then you heard it. A low moan coming from the woods. 

You froze, your hand tight on your strap. It sounded like they were in pain but you weren’t sure. It was definitely a human sound. Then it came again. 

Decision made, you hurried off the beaten path. The grass was lush and the dirt filled with little stones but you didn’t let it slow you down. Even if you couldn’t help them, it was likely Patroclus could. 

You heard it again but it was different and you frowned, not able to put a finger on why. Then you reached a small clearing, filled with wildflowers. 

Your eyes flicked toward the sounds and it took you a moment to realize what you were looking at.

Sitting under a tree, was Y/N and a boy who had his back toward you. The boy was  saddled in Y/n’s lap, his legs parted and his tunic bunched up around his hips. Y/n’s hands were on his thighs. Their mouths were locked together, the boy’s hands buried in Y/N’s hair.

Immediately, your whole body went white hot, burning down to the pit of your stomach. You realized that your hands were trembling as your cheeks flushed. You couldn’t describe what the emotions were. 

Something in you cracked just so, like an unspoken hope dying.

Without meaning to, you stumbled backwards and a stick broke under your sandals. It was painfully loud in the clearing. Both Y/n and the boy jerked toward the sound. 

It was then that you realized you knew the boy. The baker’s son. He would come around sometimes, asking for Y/N. You remembered how his eyes narrowed at you the first time he saw you. You had been surprised how handsome he was, smooth tanned skin and soft dark wavy hair. 

You had offered a friendly smile. The smile he gave in return didn’t reach his eyes. 

Only now on his face, there was a shock that faded into a cold satisfaction. Like he won a game you didn’t even know you were playing.

For the first time in your life, you turned and ran. You heard your name but you didn’t stop until you reached the house. You stumbled up to your room, not seeing Achilles’ furrowed brow as he watched from the den. 

You never knew that long minutes later, he stopped Y/n from going up. Their voices low in the hallway. 

Somehow you acted normal during dinner, carefully avoiding Y/N’ glances. You even genuinely laughed with Patroclus when he told everyone about something one of the town’s healers did that caused a whole family to get a full body rash. 

It was when you were getting ready for bedtime that you heard a knock. Face clean and hair damp from the wash, you called them in. You turned with a smile, thinking it was Patroclus wanting to tell you something.

Only it was Y/N. He closed the door behind him, intense eyes locked on you. You went stiff as a statue. The pause between you and him was a long one.

You wished that you still had your full day outfit on, the heavy weight of the himation was a comfort. The lightweight exomis felt like too exposing right now. You crossed your arms.

“Look-“ he tried to say but you spoke over him.

“I didn’t realize that you and… Yiorgos? Are together.” You said. Your voice was only a little bit hoarse. “He seemed nice. I won’t tell your parents that I know until you are ready.” 

He scowled, “We’re not. Together, I mean. It is just something we do.”

“Oh.” You replied blankly. You weren’t sure what to make of that. Being raised where you were and with an conservative mother, there was much to people that you didn’t know. 

It was an odd thing to realize that kind of touching was just something people did. You had been warned not to even think about it until you had a wife for children. It had been easy, even as the other boys chased after girls and talked about their softness nonstop.

Y/N had done what none of the girls in your village did even when one of them kissed you in the awkward innocence of youth. He made you want that closeness even though you weren’t ready to admit it. Maybe you didn’t have the right to be jealous of Yiorgos but that didn’t stop it from creating a pit in your stomach.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicked to yours and your heart fluttered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. Really.” You said, looking away. Your chest was tight with something you didn’t want to name.

“…Alright.” He said finally, the air was heavy with unspoken words. “Good night, genius.” 

“Good night.” You told him, watching him leave. 

You slumped when you were sure you were alone. Jealousy and relief swirled in your stomach. For a moment you thought about opening the door and following after him. 

Maybe if- 

A breeze came in from an open window, ruffling the papers you had on your desk. You rushed over, slapping a hand on the desk, trapping the notes down. Staring down at your notes, written in still clumsy letters.

You have improved since then, and have learned so much. Patroclus said you and him will go to the shops tomorrow and start on the next lessons. You had so much more to still learn if you wanted to help people. 

You couldn't -wouldn’t- let anything get in the way of it. Not your family, not y/n or even your own emotions.

Your fingers curled against the rough papers. 

You had studying to do. 

~

(Year three of the Trojan War, early summer)

At some point, the sun had just dipped below the horizon and the simmering stars rushed to fill the void. The moon was ever watchful over her domain. You saw none of this, head bowed as you worked in the warm candle light. Ink stained your fingers and your eyes burned. 

The paper was rough, almost too rough to use but you did anyway. You cursed every mistake but pushed ahead.

You weren’t the most talented artist but after several attempts you had been able to recreate a decent picture of a human chest with the muscles and known organs exposed. It was a morbid picture but you needed the record for your own information.

Even as much as Patroclus taught you, you were slowly learning - or rather coming to terms- that not even your mentor knew everything. And the other healers were… less than understanding. 

Gods, you had been the only one to try to stay clean by washing your hands and tools between patients. Patroclus had been the only one to listen. 

So you took these notes in the privacy of your tent, trying to understand the very flesh you occupied.

“Hey, Reader? Are you here?” A male voice called out just from the flap of your tent. You frowned, trying to place the voice as you quickly covered up the notes. 

“Yes?” You called out, blinking your dry eyes. You barely felt human at the moment, mind whirling with information and exhaustion. You swayed when you stood, just for a moment before you found your balance. 

“May I come in? It’s Dion.” His voice was low, almost urgent. You frowned, wondering if he or someone else had gotten hurt.

You hurried to lift the flap and waved him in. Dion smiled as he stepped in. 

Dion was a warrior, tall and lean. His eyes were a soft brown and his hair shorn but his face was expressive and he always had a kind smile for you. You had first met him when he ended up in a medical tent with an arrow in his thigh. 

He had become something of a regular visitor for you, always asking questions and even thoughtfully brought you a treat every now and then. You liked that you could count him as a friend. 

Although you haven’t seen much of him since he became a commander shortly after Y/N. 

“Is everything alright?” You asked, eyes scanning over him. You realized he was in full armor but there was a fresh shine to it. You frowned, not understanding. Normally they shined before a battle. Not after nighttime. 

Dion nodded, his smile softening. If exhaustion didn’t have such a tight grip on you, then maybe you would have realized just how fondly Dion was looking at you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” He ran a hand over his head with a laugh. “You know you don’t always have to act like a healer, especially since you are not working at the moment.” 

“Oh. I guess so” You shrugged, tugging your cloak tighter around yourself. You wanted to say that you were never not working but that felt rude. “Forgive me. Force  of habit.” 

There was a pause then Dion took a step closer. You frowned up at him. Warning bells were going off in your head but you weren’t sure why. There was a faint smell of wine.

“There was actually something I wished to ask you.” He said, his tone shifting to something you couldn’t pin down. He reached over and took your hands into his. His skin was dry against yours, his touch gentle. Your breath hitched and you stared down at his hands in confusion.

“Dion-“ You tried to speak but he shook his head. 

“Please, just listen.” Dion begged. There was a crack in his voice.

You paused, stomach twisting itself into knots. Maybe it was pure pity. Or discomfort. There was a faint hope that maybe you were wrong and that Dion came for something else.

With a quiet sigh, you nodded. “Speak.”

“I realize that I am very foolish for coming here. But my heart won’t let me rest.” Dion said in a rush. “Ever since you saved my life, I have laid awake many nights thinking about you. How pretty you are or the way you smile when you see me. How clever you are and the way you light up when you understand something new.”

You mutely shook your head. 

But Dion plowed ahead. 

“Please, I could make you very happy. Whatever you wish for, I can give you. I have money and land. My father is a king and I am his first born. I can give you everything. It is so much more than y/n ever could.” Dion said, his tone hardened. He practically spat out Y/N’s name like it was poison. 

“I- what? I’m sorry. But no. And Y/N has nothing to do with this.” You told him, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. Have anyone else noticed? You thought you were keeping your own emotions hidden well enough. 

“Please, I have seen how his eyes linger on you. That he thinks he could touch you whenever he pleased.” Dion scoffed.

You only shook your head again, at a loss of what to say. 

“Or maybe it would be just easier to show you.” Dion whispered before he leaned down to kiss you. You pulled your head away and his lips were a hairbreadth from yours.

“Hey Genius, you missed-“ Y/N’s voice broke off and Dion finally pulled back just so, his nails in your skin.

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tight.  His eyes darted between you and Dion then down to Dion’s hands around yours.

Y/n let the flap fall behind his back as he stepped into your tent. Like this, he loomed, his face dark and cold. He was only dressed in an exomis but he still looked like he could take on Dion with his bare hands.

“Commander Y/N.” Dion greeted, a slight tremble in his normally confident voice. His handsome face paled just a little bit as he looked away. 

“Commander Dion.” He acknowledged, his voice like jagged ice. “What is going on here?”

“This is a private conversation that doesn’t concern you, Commander Y/N.” Dion said back, his own tone becoming harsh. 

“Is that so?” Y/N said quietly. A warning. 

You took the opportunity to break Dion’s hold and took a step back. Both warriors seemed to remember you were there, their faces were a mix of guilt and wariness, never quite looking away from each other. 

You took a deep trembling breath, wishing desperately that you could go to bed or back to your work. There was a throbbing under your skull and you knew you would have a headache to deal with after this was all over. 

“Dion. If you are not here for any medical reasons, I request that you leave my tent.” You said, carefully not looking at your former friend. 

“Reader, wait-“ Don tried to speak, grabbing at your hand but Y/N blocked him with a smooth step, hiding you behind his back. Both men glared at each other, just a breath away from growing at each other like dogs. 

Then Dion scoffed. “Fine. So be it.”

His steps and the flap of the tent seemed loud in the stillness. Y/n waited for a moment, as if making sure Dion was truly gone before turning around to face you.

It was a rare sight for him not to be wearing some type of armor. The exomis exposed toned flesh and powerful muscles. His hair was damp with a sight curl on the end and you realized he must have just come back from bathing.

He looked so different from earlier, he looked softer in the golden candlelight. Something touchable. 

“Why are you here?” You asked him, your exhaustion returning in full force. It didn’t go unnoticed from Y/N and he shifted on his feet. 

“You missed dinner.” His voice was low, gentle. You thought he might reach for you. It was something he had done before, a press of a hand on your back to coax you along. 

You hated that you wanted it so badly. 

“Is that all?” You said, turning away from Y/N before he could. You went back to your desk, the words on the paper swimming before your eyes. You reached for your bag, pulling out an apple. 

“I’m fine. Please leave me alone.”  You told him, taking a pointed bite of the apple. 

“That is not enough for food and you know it.” Y/N said, his eyes burning a hole in you.

You swallowed the bite down. Did he really think you cared at this point? 

“I want to be alone. I have a headache. Go now.” You ordered, pointing to the flap. Y/n’s jaw tightened, his mouth a hard line of disapproval. You didn’t look away, fearless of the warrior before you. 

“If you don’t think I won’t toss you over my shoulder and carry you across camp to make you eat dinner, you are deeply mistaken.” Y/N warned, taking a step toward you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hand tightening on the apple. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?” Y/N said as he got closer, his presence too big for the tent.

There was a pause, a single breath before chaos broke. You threw the partly eaten apple at him without a single thought and tried to dart past him, only he caught the apple in one hand easily and wrapped his arm around your waist, locking you against his side. 

He felt solid and warm. Like the first real thing you ever touched. 

“Really? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” Y/N said, taking a satisfying bite of the apple. 

“Oh fuck off.” You muttered sourly, your body slumped as you gave up. That got a surprised laugh from Y/N, deep and pleased. This close, you felt the vibration of his laugh and your cheeks flushed. An unwilling smile grew on your face. 

He gave you a squeeze then let you go. “Please, join us and get some food. Or otherwise Pa will think it is my fault his student didn’t come.”

“Alright.” You agreed after a moment, too tired and too hungry to fight anymore. Y/N handed the apple back and you took a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness as Y/N led you out in the twilight. His hand was big and warm between your shoulder blades. 

~

(Year five of the Trojan War, first time together. During part one.)

The bed was soft against your back, a sharp contrast against Y/N’s heavy and hard body pinning you down. His mouth claimed yours again, dominating the kiss and you just tried to keep up. 

Your hands shifted to his side, tugging at the straps of the armor. You managed to get most of them loose before the kiss broke with Y/N murmuring a curse against your bruised lips. 

He pulled back, sitting up and you followed, hands still on him. The armor came off with your help, along with his tunic and your breath hitched. He was beautiful, a powerful, masculine form.  A living artwork. 

Unable to stop yourself, you brushed a hand on his chest, moving down to his stomach. The trail of hair was rough against your fingertips. His cock was thick and hard, jutting out between powerful thighs. Shyly, you reached for it, the weight of it heavy and hot in your palm.  

You actually whimpered, heat pooling in your stomach as you slowly pumped along the length of it, fingers trailing along a vein.

He shuddered, his eyes darkened with lust. You met him in another kiss, and you wondered why you denied yourself of this, of him for so long.  Each kiss was a burning mark and you wanted more. 

His hands, warm and calloused, moved along your thighs and you gasped loudly at the touch. Y/n chuckled, a warm huff of breath against wet lips and you claimed his mouth this time, cupping his cheek with a hand. 

When the kiss broke, he got your chiton off, letting fall to the floor along with his own clothes. He used a gentle momentum to get you back down on the bed. 

“Gods, you look amazing.” He said, staring down at you. His hands were roaming over you, touching your thighs and stomach. Your cheeks flushed, eyes darting down. Your own body wasn’t like his, more softer and your cock was already beaded, the precum was a pale pearl. 

You licked your lips. “Kiss me again. Please” 

Without hesitation, he did, leaning down and caging your head between his arms. His cock pressed against you, the tip wet and leaking. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. You never wanted to stop kissing him

“I didn’t think it would feel so good just to kiss you.” You confessed brokenly against his lips. He groaned, tangling a hand in your hair. 

“Drove me mad for years. You would be lecturing me and all I wanted to do was kiss you.” Y/n rumbled and you huffed out a laugh, your cheeks warmed. Then you called his name out in a gasp when Y/N reached down and wrapped a gentle hand around your cock.

He gave you a quick kiss, his hand still moving loosely around you. It was a tease and your hips jerked upward, needing more. 

“Fuck. Please tell me you have oil.” He rasped and you felt a thrill shoot through you at the realization that you caused that. 

“Yeah.” You gasped. Then feeling bold, you met his eyes - and gods, he really did have amazing eyes- and said. “I used it sometimes at night, just touching myself.” 

He swore again, kissing you. “I expect a show then, at some point. I want to see you make a mess out of yourself.”

You nodded, shifting to grab the oil tucked away under one blanket, pressing into his waiting hand. Biting down your lip, you watched him pour the oil into his palm. Your heart thudded in your chest, y/n wasn’t small and you weren’t sure if your body could handle it.

With the oil slick hand, he wrapped around your cock and began moving in even, quick pumps. His thumb brushed against the slit of the head, lightly pressing down each time. You arched off the bed with a cry, hands scrambling for something to grap on to. 

One of your hands fisted the blanket but the other grabbed at his broad shoulder, nails digging into toned flesh. Burning pleasure rolled though you like a physical wave and you moaned, hips moving shamelessly.

Y/N kissed you, swallowing your groans. “Gods help me, you are beautiful like this.” His voice was adoring and it broke something deep inside of you.

You fumbled, grabbing his wrist. “I want you inside of me. Now.”

He stopped his hand, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. Your and his breaths intermixed. The light outside had given away to the night, and there was only the faint candlelight to cast light and shadows. 

There was hesitation on his face, “Have you ever-“

“I want you, please.” You begged, “I need to know how you feel inside of me.” 

“I- Fuck. Yeah, alright.” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth before he shifted back, your legs parted around his thighs. After getting more oil, he lifted your leg and placed it on his shoulder.

The first careful press of his fingers made your breath hitched. His eyes never left your face as he gently worked his thick fingers into you. 

“Breath.” He ordered softly. “And touch yourself slowly.”  

You let out a breath between trembling lips, making your body relax. It took you a moment to grab your cock, which had gone a little soft and just like he ordered, you made each stroke a slow one. 

“Perfect. You are just perfect.” He murmured, his pace matching yours. You wanted to reply with a smart comment but the moment felt like it was too vulnerable for such words then pure utter pleasure lit up inside of you. 

The moan you let out would have made a whore blush and you slapped a hand over your mouth, torn between shame and lust. It only seemed to encourage Y/N however, and he made sure to keep touching the same spot over and over. 

He pressed a kiss against your leg as your body twitched under the assault of pleasure. Your own cock bumped against your stomach, spilling precum everywhere. You pushed down on those wonderful fingers, wanting more of the mind numbing pleasure, needing more.

Only he pulled them out, smirking at your snarled order to put them back in. He ignored your order, grabbed your other leg and placed it on his shoulder and tugged you closer. Like this, the contrast between you and him was highlighted. 

His strong hands on your thighs, the intensity of his eyes, the beauty of his powerful form between your legs would be forever imprinted on your memory. If nothing else, even if you ended up burnt and regretful, you would have this. 

The blunt, hot pressure of his cock against your opening made you bite down on your lip. He sunk into you slowly, his mouth parting around your name and you reached for him. He leaned down, meeting you in a claiming kiss.

He was impossibly big inside of you, burning and remaking you around him and you had to break the kiss just so you could take deep, greedy breaths, head tossed back. He pressed wet kisses against your throat, still pushing into you inch by punishing inch. 

You gasped and shook as he sucked and bit down the crook of your neck, leaving a mark. You buried a hand in his hair, it was soft against your fingers.

“Y/n, please- please.” You tugged his hair and he obeyed, lifting his head up and meeting you in another hungry kiss.

Somewhere between a moment and forever, he was finally inside of you. And you no longer knew where you began and where he ended. The myth of soulmates, of lovers forever together in a shared body came to you between the fog of pleasure and the press of his kisses and it made such blissful sense.

Then he pulled out just a little then he thrusted back in. 

Nerves lit up in your core, tingling across your thighs and down to your toes. Your heels dug in his back, no doubt leaving bruises but Y/N didn’t notice or didn’t care. Your hands covered his, just needing something to hold on to. 

His thrusts were solid, steady and deep, deep inside of you. And you couldn’t imagine never having this again, the emptiness would be too much. 

There was drool spilling from your lips and you were babbling nonsense. If you could just think, you would be embarrassed but there was no space for it. There was only you and him and the rhythm of becoming one. 

“Don’t stop-don’t ever stop.” You gasped out, and he shushed you.

“I won’t.” He said simply, his pace getting a sense of urgency. Cracks were forming in you. Then one of his hands moved away from your thigh, leaving an oily mark on your skin, and wrapped around your leaking cock.

He pumped in time with his thrusts and you couldn’t stop moaning. 

It didn’t take long for the world to break apart, pleasure narrowing in your core and you sobbed as you came. Some of it spilled on your stomach but the rest coated his hand as he slowly worked you though your orgasm. 

Still trembling, you slumped. Your cheeks were flushed and you sucked in a breath. With hazy eyes, you watched Y/n lifted his hand to his mouth and licked your cum off. He groaned like it was fine wine and you muttered his name, still lost in the grip of lust.

Then he snapped his hips in quick strokes, pushing in deep. His hands gripped your thighs hard enough that the marks will linger for days. And you gasped and shuddered as y/n used your own body for his pleasure, shoving in deeper and deeper.

You tugged him down, kissing him. “Come inside of me.” You ordered brokenly, cheeks hot at the fact you were saying the words even another part of you had dreamt about it before.

He groaned out your name, and with a handful of thrusts, he came. He stilled deep inside and you swore you felt every twitch as he filled you up. He braced himself on his forearm so as not to crush you under him as his body slumped.

Y/n turned his head and you kissed him. 

It wasn’t the frantic, hungry kisses from earlier but rather it was delicate, gentle and you hoped it said what you couldn’t right now. He returned it just as much gentleness and you wanted to cry for some inexplicable reason. 

Eventually you and him separated and you winced at the slight burn, not expecting it. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking over you. If you weren’t already flushed, you would be as his finger dipped between. 

“Yeah.” You muttered, not sure what to do or say.  A part of you were sure Y/n would roll out of bed and get dressed, not even looking at you. You heard about it in whispered tones and hurt frowns. 

Your heart twisted at the thought. 

But he didn’t. He grabbed a close by rag and cleaned both you and him up before settling down next to you. Your body moved before you could stop it. 

You lifted his arm up and tucked yourself under it, your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady under your ear and you savored the beat of it. You pointedly ignored his chuckle and when his hand rested on your hip, it felt a mark of ownership. 

Maybe this will blow up in your face when you wake up alone tomorrow morning but right now you have this. You had him.

You felt the press of a kiss atop your head and when your hand found his, you interlaced the fingers together. You and him were alive and safe and together at this moment. 

Maybe that was all you could ask for. 

struck by your lightning (idol au)

pairing: kaminari denki x reader 

reader’s pronouns: he/him

You’re a reporter working at the red carpet of a national award gala. You’ve convinced yourself that you’re doing just fine. At least, you’re doing fine until you interview Kaminari.

notes: since this fic is both a chat fic and a regular fic, the formatting is better over on ao3. but, I wanted to post it here too :P

Keep reading

feelin kinda down, I was wondering if you can do some König x Male!Reader?

possibly a lazy morning with him?

Hope you have a good day! thanks

-🦀

I absolutely can do that for ya :3 And thanks, I hope you do too! I also hope you like this, even if it's a little short.

Soft Blankets, Lazy Mornings

Konig x civilian m!reader

Tags: just fluff

Story begins after the break

You awake to the sun peeking in through the window. Strong arms are wrapped around your middle, and a large, warm body is pressed against your back. You smile when you feel the gentle rise and fall of Konig's chest against your back. A comfort that he's still breathing when sometimes you worry you'll awaken to him laying there lifeless. It's an irrational fear, you're aware of it. But sometimes you can't help it.

You gently run your hand over one of his forearms, stopping to rest your hand over top of his. You're still pretty tired, but resting like this -feeling Konig holding you- makes you smile to yourself. Soft breaths disturb your hair, tickling you occasionally. You pull the soft, fluffy blanket up just a little more, covering your exposed shoulder. The effect is immediate as warmth seeps into your cooled skin. Konig shifts slightly, pressing his nose into your hair on the top of your head. He sighs in his sleep, a gentle sound as he gets comfortable again.

You smile and slowly start to shift yourself, trying to turn in Konig's hold. Eventually, you manage, and rest your head against his strong chest. Aside from feeling his gentle breaths, you're now able to hear his strong heartbeat. It relaxes you further, feeling like you're sinking back into the bed. Sleep pulls at your weary mind again. And you're lulled back to sleep by the lullaby that is Konig.

The next time you awake, it's by a large hand gently pushing your shoulder, and Konig's rough morning voice.

"Schatz, I made you coffee," Konig says softly, and you groan a little. You're not usually too fond of being woken up, but the promise of coffee has you slowly sitting up while rubbing at your eyes.

"The way I like it?" You ask, beginning to yawn before opening your eyes.

"Of course, mein liebling," Konig answers, smiling at you before leaning in to touch his nose to yours.

Your playfully scrunch your nose in response before chuckling a bit. "Thank you, bärchen."

He hands you your coffee before sitting at the end of the bed, his own coffee in hand. He yawns too before taking a sip and humming softly.

"It's really nice spending my leave with you," Konig says quietly, a blush beginning to rise to his cheeks as his messy red-brown hair falls around his shoulders. He hasn't brushed it yet, but that's okay, you'll do it for him later. He traces the side of his plain black mug with a fingertip, idly scratching at the smooth porcelain. "It's still new to me... To have someone to come home to."

You're not one to really talk when you first awake. Konig isn't either, but he's been up for a bit obviously, having made coffee already. He was probably up for a while just holding you while you slept too.

"Sometimes... I worry about what you'd do if I didn't come home one day," He mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Your expression softens and you set your coffee on the night stand next to you before crawling over to Konig. You wrap your arms around his middle as he lifts his arms, trying to not spill his coffee. He's a bit tense at first, obviously worried over what he said. However, he soon relaxes in your arms.

"You'll always come home to me," You say, muffled into his arm. "I know you will."

Konig chuckles a little, even if it's a little dry. He reaches over with his free hand and runs his rough, calloused fingers through your hair, gently petting your head.

"Okay, maus, I'll always come home for you."

can we cam up? eren yeager x male reader

w.c: 4.3k

genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, fuckhole, cunt (1 time), pussy (1 time)

WARNING: spit, blowjob, rimming, anal (obvi), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, filming, degradation, humiliation, nerd!eren, jock!reader, intoxication, may read kinda dubious but it’s 100% consensual, light d/s dynamic, alcohol, weed mention, dumbification, eren compares you to a hentai character one (1) time bc he’s deranged

a/n: i was kicking my feet twirling my locs screaming into my pillow writing this and it shows. also eren has a BIIIIG phat crush on you but i didn’t wanna get too into it… you definitely remember him, probably even sexted him w/o even knowing it was him

Let’s get one thing straight: You're not an arrogant man. Not at all— in fact, you’d consider yourself to be quite humble. This night may be about you and your winning score, but you’re humble about it. Considerate, even. So you feel no guilt when you accidentally spill alcohol on someone’s shirt, explaining that if they can somehow find you on instagram and send a DM, you’ll pay for the laundry and potential damages. The stranger peers at you with a funny glint in his green eyes as his hands pull the wet fabric apart from his skin, his glasses falling down the arched bridge of his nose.

You shrug and wave to your teammates, your football jersey loose on your form as you make way through the frat house’s large interior. Music blares in your ears for the millionth time tonight, the bass rattling your skeletal system with each increasingly tipsy step you take. Grinding, flushed bodies invade your vision, all around you as you shimmy through the sea of bodies to pour yourself another generous shot. Cool, blue rays of strobe lights dance and flicker across your eyelids. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the confines of your safety helmet, the vinyl of your mouth guards. It overwhelmed you at first, so bright and unapologetic as your eyes adjusted and focused.

Somewhere beneath the tranquil hum of alcohol flowing through your veins you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, rippling through your skin and sobering you up just a little.

Your girlfriend.

She’d been blowing up your phone all night, something along the lines of forgetting her gift for your anniversary— what was a few weeks, anyway? — and how ungrateful you were for yours. She was a good lay, a quick way to resort to getting your dick wet on particularly lonely nights; when you couldn’t stand the sound of silence dancing around your head. But that was all.

You shake the thought of her squawking voice the second you find Connie, surrounded by sorority girls with glossed lips and pink-tinted eyes. Finding solstice in his company, they’re huddled relatively close, knit together in some sort of baked clique. He’s perched over a bong, lighter in hand as he inhales the fumes with muffled haste. Pothead.

Your hand finds the crown of his head, palm nestled in the bristles of his buzz cut. Noone is allowed to touch Connie’s hair, at least not when he’s coherent enough to stop them. It usually ends in flying fists and bruised cheekbones, but all the man sends your way is a hazy glare. Someone punching the university’s all star just isn’t a good look. Especially when he’s pretty and popular with the public.

“Do that again and I’ll throw this bong at your head.” It’s an empty threat, clear of malice and slurred on Connie’s bitten lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” You steal the smoke exuding from his mouth, swishing the fog in your mouth a few times before blowing it back into his face. “Never again. Scouts honor.”

You shoot back up, mind reeling and posture straightening as a particularly pretty cheerleader hands you a bottle of something you can’t quite make out. It’s brown and rich though, smacking against the glass as you take a swig and chase it down with Connie’s leftover beer of all things.

One thing leads to another and suddenly you’re trapped between sobriety and full on plastered drunk. You remember chugging something sickeningly sweet, despite it leaving a harsh burn in the back of your throat as you took in a deep breath of victory. There were many eyes on you, loud cheers reverberating off the walls as you’re hoisted into the air for your skillful performance and high-fived by your frat brothers. But there are those green eyes again, staring straight through you with a look you can’t quite place.

Not that you can place much. You’re shitfaced.

He smells good, you later discover. There’s a strum of wind as he pushes forward and straight by you, weaving through the crowd like he’s invisible. The swaying of bodies— the sight is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, and it makes his head swim while liquor glides across his tongue, clumsy and inexperienced. He must not get invited to parties often. Or maybe he does, and you’ve just never noticed him.

He’s quite nerdy, some sort of graphic design on his stained shirt that resembles that of a video game or cartoon logo, and a poor excuse of a beard litters his chiseled jaw. And oddly handsome, pale face flushed from the alcohol, pink and pooling at the apples of his cheeks as he stares at you expectantly. But you’re not into men, and all the shots in the world couldn’t get you to even think of advancing with one. He quirks his thick brow in passing, settling back into his seat with a depleting mumble you can’t make out under the loud music.

But the alcohol paired with the sultry music-choice is doing things to you, you can’t help but stare longer than you should when he swallows down his adams apple, throat bobbing as he downs a fruity drink. His tongue darts over his lips, quick and steady as he nods along to the bass. You’re thinking with your dick, pushing past the batting lashes of cheerleaders and curvy bodies of sorority girls until you’re uncomfortably close to the guy who won’t stop looking at you.

“Do you- do you have a staring problem?” You ask, a slight slur to your voice as your face leans in close enough to count the nerd’s lashes individually.

Just to reiterate, you’re not arrogant. In the slightest.

He jumps back in response to the evasive question, strands of hair falling over his glasses as his emerald eyes roam your face. The lines are blurring now, his nerdy, almost irritating face looks kissable and inviting— his parted lips look warm and skilled. You can smell the pineapple on his tongue, sweet and citrusy.

“You heard me,” You hiccup straight into his face, watching his gorgeous features distort into something not even remotely akin to disgust, which makes confusion rack your brain. “Do you talk, or what?”

Your tongue is sharp, much to Eren’s chagrin. You’re too pretty to talk to people like that, especially him. He may look the way he does, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to him like that. It’s not like he can’t recognize a brat when he sees one. Usually, you’re a bubbly team player— everyone likes you, even if they say they don’t. Still, he shakes his head, humoring your drunken irritation. He understands, at least a bit, as he has a natural temper of his own.

Truthfully, Eren has been keeping his eyes on you for the past millennia. It started when he accidentally walked in on your practice, a sunny day that simply got brighter when he saw your face, cheerful and bright as you joked along with your teammates— Jean, Reiner, Levi? Was it? It didn’t matter, his focus was on you.

You and your sinfully tight compression shorts. You and your hands that curl into fists as you grasp at his sheets like a lifeline, as if holding them tight will somehow keep him inside of you, right where he belongs.

You and your stupid football that’d smacked him right in the face at full speed. But it was in his favor, you came running over apologetically as he rubbed away the blooming bruise. Your voice was sweet then, a melodic chirp that he couldn’t stop thinking about since then. He wants to hear it break.

It seems you too always meet at the expense of his dignity. But not tonight.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Eren grunts, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning his head away. His glasses are fogged up, but it might just be saving his pride. He’d rather not get hard in front of the person he’s been fantasizing about for the past few months, not when you clearly had no recollection of him. He doesn’t blame you. “My bad. I’m not, yknow, stalking you or anything.”

“Oh, because staring for hours and stalking are very different things,” You’re staring at his lips now, ignoring the vibration in your hand. The second your phone screen lights up you slam it face-down into your front pocket. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice, like his response is calculated and open-ended. “What if I like that?”

Your eyebrows wiggle, even with the mind splitting sensation of your brain beating against your skull. Almost as hard as your heart hammering in your chest. Eren’s scoff is barely audible over the music, but the comment has his heart racing.

You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, fists bunched up in the dark fabric as your lips press against his. It’s feverish and sloppy, your teeth occasionally grazing his own. His mouth is hot and wet, fruity essence on his tongue as it slips past your lips and into your mouth. You’ve never had a kiss feel this good. He nips at your bottom lip, pearly teeth digging into the skin until he feels you make an embarrassingly high pitched noise in your throat.

There’s a twinkle in his teal eyes as his posture straightens, slowly leaning back to catch a breath of fresh air (as fresh as it can get, anyway). You watch him readjust his position, lifting his hips instead of his actual body, practically rutting into the thickening air as he shifts. His bubblegum lips curl into a lazy smile as his fingertips circle the rim of the red solo-cup he’s been drinking from. “What if I like you?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Your phone just doesn’t shut up, does it?” There’s clear agitation in his voice, his arched eyebrows furrowed as your feet carry you somewhere much more secluded. Eren trails behind you, his eyes glued on the mound of your ass as you walk. He has to help you occasionally, without even knowing the layout of the place, just so you don’t fall over. The light shine of your phone screen emits across your hip, and he can see the contact of whoever it is that’s so deeply desperate for your attention.

Too bad it’s all on him.

“I’m a pop— popular man.” You finally respond, shutting the door behind you to what Eren assumes is your bedroom in the frat house. It’s between two other bedrooms and across from three more, with a sizable closet that holds more trophies than clothing.

“Can see why, pretty mouth like that,” The words slip before he can think, but it’s worth it to see the way you oh, so conveniently hiccup in response. The implication of you being some type of campus whore makes your throat feel tight, and you can’t help but twitch in your tight pants. “Talks a lot of shit, though.”

“You talk too much.” Correction: he doesn’t talk enough. But you shut him up with a kiss anyway, hungry and frantic because whatever this is, whatever you feel when you look at him, you don’t want it to end. His hands travel under your shirt, cold from his previous icy drinks, and you squirm under his palms. He spreads goosebumps across your skin, and when his fingers brush the bud of your nipples you can’t help but jolt where you stand.

A malicious grin snakes across Eren’s face, all teeth and predatory as he runs his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. “Been thinking about fucking you for weeks. The whole time we were talking, all I could think about was shoving you down on my dick.”

Oh. Your cock aches at that, which is almost already too much for you, you’ve never done this before. Not with a man, not with someone who looks at you like they’re going to devour you whole. You swallow hard, alcohol dispelling from your body the more blood rushes south, and suddenly you’re on your knees, unbuttoning Eren’s jeans with trembling hands.

The door locks behind you, a small click that only the two of you can hear. You look back up at the nerd, who’s watching you intently with a smirk.

He’s a complete juxtaposition to his appearance— if you were a bad man you’d call him a loser, but he exudes dominance and power. You want to wiggle under his gaze, shifting your weight between knees. Eren’s large hands cradle your face, oddly tender and affectionate as he rubs your cheekbones, slowly sliding them to the sides of your head. He lifts your gaze, forcing eye contact.

His glasses hang low on his nose, clouded from his breath as he lets out a satisfied sigh. You want to pull on his hair, flyaways barely reaching the base of his neck as the rest remains in a ponytail.

“This okay?” His tone is beyond sincere.

“Yeah,” You breathe, momentarily losing yourself in the forest of his irises. Blinking rapidly, Eren removes his hands from your head to free himself from his jeans, his long cock decorated in a small vein that disappears below his head. It’s pretty, arched against his stomach and dripping onto his shirt. The leaking precum makes you wonder how long he’s been hard. “Yeah. This is—this is more than okay.”

“Open,” It’s more of a command than anything, Eren’s very hands on, his fingers slipping into your mouth to pull at the corners of your mouth. Your tongue covers your teeth, your mouth watering as his salty fingertips graze your tongue. His other hand is busy working at the head of his cock, twisting smooth circles over the slit until it crashes down against your tongue. Again, and again, and again. “Good boy.”

You find yourself drooling on your jersey, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as his tip rests on your tongue. He goes slow at first, letting you suck on the tip while his fist roams his shaft. You’re a big boy, he knows you can handle much more than just the head— even if he is thick. Your eyes water immediately, gagging instinctually as he shoves his dick deeper into your mouth. “Say thank you.”

Before you can pull away with an answer, both hands return to the back of your head, holding you in place. He encourages you to breathe through your nose, cooing at your inexperienced efforts to catch the drool escaping your mouth, and even goes as far as to wipe one of your tears, “Gonna thank me? F’letting you be such a good, warm n’ wet hole for me?”

You feel yourself nodding, blinking hazily as he rocks in and out of your mouth. There’s a sound you don’t recognize coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, and it has you whimpering on the mouthful of cock. You don’t mean to make such a pitiful noise, but it feels so good, letting yourself go a little brainless over a cute boy.

You slurp loudly— not on purpose, but it earns a throaty chuckle from the man above you. He pulls out to let you breathe, his cock slowly sliding up your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit. The tears in your eyes spill unabashedly, your face nearly crashing against his dick.

“Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

You want to groan, to bang your fists against the wall because he’s being so mean. He knows what you mean, you know what you mean. Regardless, still focused on his cock just inches away from your face, you moan against nothing. It’s a light noise, breathy and quiet but effective enough to make his cock jump. “Please, please— I mean- fuck, thank you for letting me be…yours.”

Eren tuts, feigning annoyance as he grips your chin between his fingers, digging into the soft skin so you’re actually focused on his face. You smile into his palm, eyelashes batting against your cheek and he just can’t help but spit onto your cheek.

“What, d’you just go dumb the second you see some dick?”

You’re barely listening, instead grinding against the fabric of your jeans because his touch treatment has you feeling some kind of way. “Does your girlfriend know her boyfriend’s a cockslut too? Does she know other boys spend their nights getting your holes wet, fuckin’ you in the same bed?”

It’s much easier to hear the vibrations in your pocket now that you’re alone, the only barrier between you being the muffled music on the other side of the door. Eren’s hand leaves your jaw, and you have no complaints when he helps you to remove your jeans.

The jersey can stay on, though. He wants to fuck you in it.

He pushes you into your bed, watching you bounce in the mattress in nothing but your jersey, and helps himself into solely his birthday suit. You’re just as exposed, seemingly moreso, as he pulls your bottom half into his lap. It’s an odd position, not anything you’re used to, maybe your exes and past hookups— but never you.

Eren hunches over, his breath tantalizingly close to your hole. First, he licks a fat stripe across the surface, holding your thighs open when they threaten to instinctively close. You can’t prop yourself up on your elbows at this angle, your feet dangling over his shoulders while he holds you up. The nerd is stronger than he looks.

His tongue is hot and wet, and you feel yourself clenching when a glob of spit lands on your hole. He massages it in with his ring and middle finger, and your body finds itself squirming against his touch. You expect fingers, one at first, maybe, then another. But instead he uses his tongue, lets it dip inside and lap at your insides. Eren looks hungry, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spreads you open and holds you there with an iron grip. A punched-out “Eren!” leaves your lips the second his tongue is lapping you up, leaving tingles up your spine and smog in your brain.

He kneads his fingers into the fat of your thighs, nipping occasionally where your skin folds into your ass, just to get another choked whine out of you. And, oh, you whine. The intrusion isn’t unwelcome, in fact, the feeling of Eren’s face slick with his spit as he tries to get his tongue as deep as he can into you makes your toes curl. You fist your bedsheets, finding comfort in the pillows you’re pressed into, and go as far as to hold yourself open for the man while he goes to grab something.

“Oh, baby. You shouldn’t have,” You shiver at the sound of his dark chuckle, and squeal when his ring finger finds a spot next to his tongue. “Look at that. Hole’s leaking. You just sit here and look pretty while I fuck it on my tongue, hm? Think you can do that?”

“Mhmmm, mhm, yeah! I can— I can do that, ‘Ren.” You sound like a bitch, with your nose buried in your pillow as you moan with every brush to that special spot inside of you. Your cock jumps against your stomach, leaking into your belly button and down your chest. Your jersey is ruined, but so are you, especially when Eren rubs your cock once, twice—

Holy shit. You’re cumming.

“That’s it, come on, give it to me.” Your jersey catches it all, right over your reserved number and embroidered nameplate. Your brain is too fried for you to care, tears streaming down your face as your hole flutters on his tongue and fingers. Sensitive now, moreso than you were before, you whimper and shimmy in Eren’s lap, simultaneously moving toward and away from his touch. He keeps you where you are though, staring at your blissed out face through clouded glasses and licking his lips like he’s just finished eating the best meal he’s ever had. And as if that’s not enough to have you cumming again already, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your puffy hole just for good measure.

“You felt so soft on my tongue, fuck, I almost busted right on you,” His cheeks are pink, and the rosy shade blooms down his neck and disappears into his chest. He pulls you forward by your wrist, sucking on your tongue and licking over your lips so you can taste yourself. He’s gonna be the death of you.“Bet this hole’s gonna be even softer. Nice and warm while you take my cock. Gonna let me cum inside? Pump that soft cunt full until it’s all creamy and used?”

He’s so filthy, so unashamed. The nickname doesn’t go unheard, and despite the slutty moan that you let out in response, part of you wants to pinch him just for that. Damn Eren and his shameless mouth! But you nod anyway, an everlasting stream of ‘yesyesyes’ floating in the air as he lines himself up to finally give you what you’ve been gagging for so prettily.

Eren just can’t help himself. Not when you’re folded up and presenting yourself to him like this. Not when your eyes are wide and your lips are parted and you’re letting out such pretty sounds. Sounds that belong to him. Plus it’s not all on him, you’re the one with an unlocked phone. You’re the one with space in your camera roll.

He’s sure the camera is shaky, maybe even a little blurry, but he makes sure to get your face in it, fucked-out and crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his hand on your jaw. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Eren’s thighs as his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway. It’s a bit half-assed on your part, but who’s gonna blame the guy getting fucked stupid?

“‘Ren, you’re,” You sob in disbelief, eyes rolling along with your hips. “You’re— ohh, you’re fuckin’ me.”

He smiles down at you, feral and heated as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He never seems to stop, always chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. “That’s right, I’m fuckin’ you. Just how you like it, hm? Right in your fuckhole. S’what it’s there for, right?”

“That’s—“ Absurd? Vulgar? Objectification? It’s hot. It’s hot and you know it, Eren knows it, and your dick sure as hell knows it too because you can feel your next orgasm coming. “Yeah. N’my fuckhole.”

He makes a pleased sound in response, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. “Should train you to take this dick.”

“Hold on,” Despite looking straight at him you can’t understand what he’s saying, not until his glasses are placed over your eyes and you’re blinking away the prescription blur. You struggle to collect yourself, wailing as you reach for his free hand that begins to nestle between your jawline and your neck. He squeezes affectionately, lets you cry and arch on his cock while he breathlessly sighs, “You look straight outta my favorite hentai.”

And, technically, you’re making a sextape now. A tape that showcases closeups of his cock disappearing deep inside you, pummeling your puffy hole until it carves the shape of his dick into you. Until only Eren can fit, big and thick and unbelievably deep. A tape that has you, a popular and well-known straight jock, crying on the dick of a guy you just met.

“Eren, m’gonna… ‘Ren—” You may as well scream, your body tensing as you spray across your chest — when did your jersey get bunched up enough to expose you like that? — sticky cum shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body ablaze. He doesn’t let up, castelon eyes narrowed as he fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, milking himself for all he’s worth. “Inside, wanna be full, I deserve it, please, Rennie.”

He bounces you a few times, watching you fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you. It’s the nickname that gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. It’s clear you feel proud of yourself for making him tremble inside you, and Eren takes the opportunity to scrapbook the memory.

“C’mere,” He’s not asking, simply pulling you closer to the camera so it can focus on your cum-stained face. “Smile for me, baby. Tell your ‘girlfriend’ how much you like it in your pussy too.”