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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ that nigga a munch, onyankopon (nsfw)

ony doesn’t like to be disrupted during meal time.

you were laid on your back, ankles damn near locking behind your ears as your lower half filled with immense pleasure. you were unsure of how long you’d been in this mostion. could have been hours, could have been minutes. but all you knew was that you were in this position for so long being oleasured, you were maxed out in sensitivity.

onyankopon had no problem with staying here all night, clear skin all between your legs, soaked with your cream. “oooh daddy,” you whined lowly, biting down on your lower lip. “fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

ony could feel himself physically growing hard beneath him as he lapped up at your arousal, making sure to nuzzle his nose in between your folds each time, sending you further along the edge. he flattened out his tongue against the entrance of your pussy, making sure he covered all his bases.

“gon’ head and nut mama. you know daddy gon catch it on that pretty pussy.” you quite literally throw your head back against your pillow, unable to take anymore of the torture. ony was so good at eating pussy, you didn’t know how you were able to withstand lasting this long. not to mention how you were a bit faded after smoking with him a few hours ago.

he was folding you in half so good, the fatty pudge of your stomach did it’s best to peel out from between your legs. it slightly obstructed your view of ony’s head digging in to eat your pussy, but you didn’t care too much to watch him anyway. not when he was tongue fucking you so good.

as you feel the knot in your stomach untying, strings of daddy daddy i’m cumming left your mouth as your legs spasmed around his head. it was getting harder for you to hold the camera as pleasure clouded your senses. with devious eyes, ony used the flat of his long and skillful tongue in order to continue lapping up at your juices.

“hold that camera still mama or we boutta do this shit all over again,” your man threatened as his gaze never once removed from the lenses. he wanted to make sure that the next time he looked over this exact video in need of a quick jerk off, he remembered exactly what it felt like eating your pussy.

meanwhile, you’re still above him on the pillow, feeling yourself lightly squirting against his face. you try to place your hand between your legs to get him off you in avoidance of the foreign liquid, but ony quickly swats your hand away. “move your fuckin’ hand or i’mma move it for you. don’t lemme tell you again baby,” his voice was dark and serious as your arousal didn’t bother him one bit. “tryna munch on my shit and you disturbing me.”

alhaitham x mermaid! reader (3.5)

⤀ cw: afab!reader, first time (w. him), lots of teasing, cunnilingus, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, lil bit of size kink + overstim, creampie, fluff???, true love but they don't know it yet — mdni || ꒰ 6.2k wc ꒱ a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, but it can stand alone as well ! hope u enjoy my smut debut + reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡ prev ⋘ pt 3.5 ⋙ next ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

When you had taken him up on his half conscious, pseudo challenge to visit Sumeru City, Alhaitham never imagined you’d cause him so much trouble. It’s not in the sense that you’d drawn too much unwanted attention, or that you’d spent his mora on frivolous things. No, it was your lack of understanding for the human notions of shame and intimacy. 

He’s never entirely sure of just how nuanced the unabashed things you say and do are. You’re shameless whenever you’d ask him for compliments point-blank, or when you’d waltz out of the bathroom only half-dressed in his clothes. Other times, you’d surprise him with words so naively honest, brush against him in ways that feel far too tender.

To his dismay, it’s becoming increasingly clear that your actions always come with a price—one that he pays, not with mora, but with his dignity. Much like the smooth caress of the waters you came from, it’s all seemingly harmless, but the depths of your intentions remain aggravatingly unknown. Especially when your very presence is enough to enfold all his senses in a lull of desire.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning the knob of his bedroom door, only to find you in your human form, lounging on his bed, lazily flipping through one of his books. The robe you wear is one of his; too large on your frame, with the silky material falling off your shoulders, dangerously close to revealing too much. 

Not that it isn’t a welcome sight—he is a man after all. And while he prides himself on his exceptional self control, it becomes an issue when he feels himself grow hot and the loose clothes he likes to wear at home begins to feel too tight. He can’t rub one out while you’re here, so perhaps a cold shower might ease his condition…

But you’re more perceptive than he’s given you credit for.

“It’s not as magnificent as my tail, but this body is still quite impressive isn’t it?” 

“I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you.”

…

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me at all.” You flash him an amused smile, but the sultry look in your eyes relay a different message entirely. He can’t lie, it excites him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles under his breath. To his chagrin, your curious hum cuts through the room and he hears the heavy thud of a book slammed shut.

Of course you heard him. With renewed interest, you swing your legs over the edge of his bed, sauntering over until you’re close enough that he can smell the faint scent of his mint shampoo in your hair. 

“Oh? What could I possibly be doing to you?” Your fingers walk up his body, slowly, from his toned stomach to his chiseled chest, leaving his skin hot through the fabric of his clothes, “Won’t you enlighten me?” 

You look up, that wide-eyed gaze of feigned innocence flickering into something sharp and dangerously seductive. A hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him in until you’re close enough that your lips are only a hair’s breadth away from his sensitive ears. The other reaches down and ghosts against his obviously growing bulge, before pressing down, palming him through his pants. Alhaitham bites back a groan. 

“Or rather, what would you like to do to me?” Your voice rings low and smooth as silk to his ears. It leaves a wave of desire to bubble in the pit of his stomach, one that doubles down on the dull ache at his crotch.

His mind sifts through a thousand thoughts. Lascivious thoughts, sinful, perverted thoughts that only seem to make their presence known when in your company. Just one glance down at you and he can see how ridiculously easy it would be to untie the lazy knot that’s hardly holding your—no—his robe together. 

“I…” 

It’s hard to think when you overwhelm all his senses, poking at the urges he has so carefully suppressed up until now. His robe, his scent. He’s no fool to the way Sumeru City ogles at you—the mysterious stranger who’s able to so casually hang onto the aloof scribe’s arm. It only makes him want to stake his claim across the empty canvas of your skin as well: his mermaid. Perhaps just this once, he’ll let himself indulge in his own selfish desires. 

“Come on, Scribe Alhaitham,” you emphasize,“use your words.” 

A smug smile forms on your face as you calculate the risks of your next words. 

“Although…if you’ve got nothing to say, why don’t you just show me,” you press close, voice deceptively soft. “I’m more of a hands-on learner anyway.”

For once, Alhaitham lets his body override all sense of rationality, flipping your positions, and pinning you against the wall as he captures your mouth in his. It’s uncharacteristically sloppy and haphazard, with none of the craftiness he displayed on that first and only night you kissed, but it’s intoxicating all the same.

His teeth graze against your bottom lip, demanding entrance, and you’re forced to grasp onto his toned bicep to keep yourself steady as you devour each other with the intensity of all your repressed thoughts. With every second his mouth remains slotted on yours, with every inhale and exhale of breath you exchange, you think that this time, you’re the one who might drown.

He finally tosses you a lifeline once he decides to leave the vicinity of your mouth, and begin his campaign across the rest of your body, starting with the little spot right along the underside of your jaw. Alhaitham takes his time trailing down your neck, catching you off guard when he stops to suck down, hard, on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

An involuntary gasp escapes, and you can feel him smirk against you, though it quickly fades into a half strangled groan when your hips roll into his. He only continues downward from here, carving kisses into your body and leaving behind colorful little bruises that send liquid fire running through your veins. The further he goes, the more he must uncover, and the only thing standing in his way is the robe you’re hardly wearing.

“Can I…?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, fingers already toying with the sash. 

“Not like you haven’t seen everything already,” you mutter, pulling his face in to kiss him again. 

His free hand snakes down to squeeze your ass while the other tugs on the loose knot, the silky material now free to tumble down your body like a waterfall, hitting every curve along the way. In one fell swoop, Alhaitham takes you to his bed, picking up right where he left off: with a depraved kiss that speaks more than he ever could in relaying the underlying lust that clouds his mind.

“Beautiful.” The word slips out without a second thought. It’s the first time he's ever said it outright. Beneath the fervor, there’s a special sentiment that cushions his tone. It has you buzzing with warmth from the inside out, but whether it’s contentment or embarrassment, you don’t know. Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He finds it infinitely amusing that for all your openly brazen flirtations…

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?” 

You respond by stubbornly grappling at the edge of his shirt, nails grazing against his muscled abdomen in the process. The startling sensation crackles through his nerves, sending his cockhead twitching in delight. 

“It’s only fair I get to see you too,” you mumble, in what little time you have between kisses. Alhaitham pulls away, a brow quirked in mild amusement. Pausing, he takes this chance to drink in the sight of your naked figure for the second time, though tonight there’s no need to look away. 

It’s exhilaratingly surreal to see your body marked by the undeniable testaments of his touch. It manifests on your skin, where you’re decorated with clusters of little bruises signed by his lips. In your chest, as it heaves for air after all the breaths he’s stolen from right out of your lungs. It persists in the way your eyes draw him in, inviting him, daring him to do more. In how your lips, though slightly swollen, wear the same coquettish grin that’s enchanted him time and again. With no other choice but to surrender to your demands, Alhaitham lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side without a care.

You’ve always thought the man to be handsome, but you’re left wonderstruck as your eyes wander across his bare skin. It’s not like his usual attire leaves much to the imagination, but Alhaitham undressed, is still a sight to see. His toned chest and sculpted stomach, well defined arms… Chiseled by the gods themselves, you think as the corner of your lips quirk just the slightest bit upwards. 

“Enjoying the view?” It’s funny how much his smug smile contrasts with the mottled pink that colors his shoulders and dusts across his cheeks. His skin only flushes more when you trace a finger over the gem on his chest, tantalizingly slow as you make your way down his sternum, and only stopping to lightly flick at one of his nipples. Alhaitham’s breath hitches and you can practically see his muscles as they tense.  

 “Very much,” you answer, hands sinking lower. “So won’t you show me more?”

He catches you by your wrist when he feels you tugging at his waistband, and it takes everything for him to ignore the wanton desperation that’s quickly clouding his mind. It’s difficult, but out of sheer will, he manages to hold back, if only by a thread. 

Gently, he pulls your chin up to face him. Want hides beneath his teal gaze, but there’s a softness that truly shines through, encapsulating the delicate balance between risk and reward.

His hands shift to caress your cheek, before he moves in to steal another kiss. This time it’s sweeter, more chaste. Alhaitham kisses you slow and passionate, interwoven with a tenderness that causes your heart to swell in your chest.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Your resounding ‘yes’ breathes a renewed ardor into his actions as he lowers you onto your back. Little by little, he makes his way down your body, leaving wet kisses everywhere except where you want him most. A kiss here, a lick there—the heat that pools in your belly only grows by the second, but a harsh suck right below your hip causes your breath to hitch and your cunt to drool more in response while you whine and attempt to rub your legs together for any sort of friction.

They are, however, aptly spread back apart when he hooks his arms beneath your thighs and pulls you closer to where he kneels at the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, “and we’ve only just begun.” Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle as he presses another kiss to your inner thigh. It’s enough to have you shivering in anticipation, the reverberating tremors of his deep voice going straight to your pulsing hole, wet with the slick of your arousal. One of his hands moves to hold you down as you jolt when his teeth graze against the delicate skin.

“Will you please just hurry up,” you’re barely able to get all your words out before your voice breaks into a breathless gasp as he takes you by surprise, dipping his head down to lick a long stripe up your glistening folds and flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue once he reaches the top. 

Talented in more ways than just words, you find out firsthand exactly how good he is with his tongue. Like a man starved, he laps up all you have to give, while your gushing hole happily churns out more slick. But it isn’t nearly enough. Especially not with the way you’re grinding into his face and singing praises to his name.  

Alhaitham doesn’t consider himself an arrogant man, but he’s never loved hearing the sound of his own name more. It falls through your lips in a trail of whimpers, your pretty little cries music to his ears, delicate and lyrical. His tongue prods at your entrance, occasionally dipping into your warmth, and as he closes in, his nose bumps against your puffy clit. It has you keening, and your hands come flying to tangle in his ashen hair as your voice splits into a sharp gasp. 

He takes a mental note of your reaction before moving to suckle on the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out another beautifully broken sob. With every exhale, and every swipe of his tongue, Alhaitham breathes life into your cunt—leaving it to drip with arousal and clench around nothing. Your fingers curl in his tresses and you tug hard. The low groan he emits reverberates through your body; the rumbling vibrations of his own pleasure sends you crawling to your high. 

But he soon pulls away and you’re quick to let out a pitched cry in protest. He peers up from between your parted thighs, sharp eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you squirming at the loss of contact. 

“Haitham,” you whine pitifully, hips blindly stuttering in search of his touch, “don’t stop.” 

Oh how the tables have turned. Before him, your tiny hole clamps around nothing and a sly grin creeps onto his face, devilishly handsome and glistening with your essence that so freely drips down his chin. You’ve teased him relentlessly during the span of your partnership, and as per your logic, it’s only fair he gets to do the same.

“Beg for it,” he purrs. His warm breath fans across your folds, sending you into a frenzied fluster from the bottom up, and you feel as if you’re going to melt.

“P-please…” It’s difficult to come up with any words, much less the right words, to say when the overwhelmingly wanton desire for him to just touch you again, has your brain enveloped in a thick haze. “Need you…Haitham please…”

His name, entangled within the sweet pleas that fall from your lips, has his cock twitching again, eager to be freed from the constraints of his pants. But if he can ignore the wet spot forming from his own precum, then he can do the same to the way his hips seem to move on their own, slowly rutting against the bed. He’s a patient man, he can wait. You on the other hand… 

You’re so needy for him, so lost trying to chase your own pleasure, that it doesn’t even register when he wets two fingers in his mouth, unable to process anything until you feel the faint stretch in your cunt that has you trembling in anticipation. His fingers slide easily into your creamy insides, and he only watches in amusement at the way your hips buck, silently begging him for something more than the painfully slow, lazy way he’s pumping in and out of you. 

“You’re already so tight...” He lets out a breathy chuckle as he scissors you open, resisting the way your velvety walls come down, hugging every inch of the digits inside you. “How are you even going to take me, hm?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing ever comes out, save for the faint breath of a moan that manages to escape. If you were in the right state of mind, you would’ve been sure to fire back something smart, however, your thoughts have been reduced to fixate on Alhaitham, who’s rather keen on keeping it that way.

He moves his wrist, twisting and turning, relentlessly searching until the pads of his fingers press against a spot just right, that it has your toes curling and back arching off the bed in a loud cry. He curls his fingers, bullying the spongy spot until echoes of your melodic mewls are undeniably present amongst the lewd squelching of your wetness. It sends him reeling and growing impossibly harder—oh how he so adores the way you unravel before him. 

Your body runs hotter than ever and you feel the coil in your belly tighten, ready to snap. You’re going to cum. You’re so close. Just a little more. It repeats like a mantra in your head, but your impending climax dissipates as he draws both fingers back out, leaving you dangling at the precipice with a distressed wail, frustration pathetically painted across your face.

Why did he just do that? Your eyes are large and laced with tears that quiver and threaten to spill down your face. Ignoring your futile attempt at garnering pity, Alhaitham only continues to taunt you.

“Will you look at that?” he says, toying with the messy slick that glosses over his middle and index fingers like webbing, stretching and breaking along to the movements of his hand. It’s such damning evidence of how much you need him, but it’s also somehow mesmerizing, so much so that you’re unable to look away. It doesn’t help that your sopping cunt only weeps more at the sight, absentmindedly fluttering around nothing.

He drags you out of your thoughts as he unexpectedly takes your clit back into his mouth. His hot tongue swirls around your bud, effectively setting your veins on fire, then takes the chance to throw your earlier words back at you. 

“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” he says, mouth never leaving the little nub.

You want him to make you cum, is what you want to say—or rather, you want him to let you cum, considering how he so cruelly ruined your earlier orgasm. But it all only translates into a litany of unintelligible whimpers, and Alhaitham smiles, the mischief twinkling in his eyes now glaringly apparent. He can’t help how endearing it is, that you, who always has so much to say, is now struggling to answer even the simplest of questions.

“Use your words. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“I want… I need…” you’re only able to make out a few words in between your ragged breaths before you’re interrupted by your own broken sob as he sucks down hard on your abused clit.

“Hm? What was that?” 

“Want to cum… ” you choke out, eyes sliding shut as you try again with your best efforts.

The latter half of your sentence warps until it rises an octave and melts into a shaky moan. Alhaitham barely gives you just enough time to finish before three lithe fingers find their way into your cunt without warning, slipping past your wet folds with ease. The dull pain of an added finger stuffed into your tiny hole, has you keening, your own knuckles turning white from your steel grip on the bed sheets. 

With a sweep of his tongue, he laves over your swollen clit again, sending shivers through to your core as you feel the tension return in your abdomen, this time wound even tighter from the way he continues to fuck your already sensitive cunt.

“ ‘m so close… please,” your breath catches in your throat as you whimper and squirm. “Please Haitham, please-” 

It’s beyond his own belief how he managed to wrangle you into his bed; the beautiful mermaid who had first tried to drown him, who was always so outspoken and bold— now reduced to a begging, whimpering mess on his sheets. For that, he mentally pats himself on the back and decides to take pity on you. 

“Come on, mermaid. Let me hear you sing.” 

Immediately, you feel his fingers curl, right up against the very spot that has you seeing stars, exactly as he had intended. He drags his teeth carefully, lightly grazing your swollen clit, effectively ripping out a loud, visceral scream as you finally tip over the edge in an earth shattering orgasm. 

Waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Alhaitham finger fucks you through your high,  vigilantly hitting that sweet, spongy spot over and over again without mercy. You’re left quivering, fingers desperately grasping at the bed sheets, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. His hand, the one that isn’t three knuckles deep inside you, moves to hold your hips down as they twitch in the settling overstimulation. 

A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he finishes off with an easy kiss to your inner thigh. He finally slows down his movements as you ride out your high, though the shallow, wet noises as he rocks his fingers in and out of you, seem all the more erotic against the backdrop of your dissipating cries. 

“Can’t get enough of you,” he coos. “Such a pretty thing—so gorgeous when you cum for me.” Alhaitham continues to whisper sweet flatteries that have you preening until he feels you clench weakly around his fingers once more. He raises a brow, the beginnings of a small smirk forming on his face.

“Of course you like to be praised.” Despite the lilt in his voice, he draws his soiled digits out with care, though you still shudder as he passes through your sensitive folds.

“Shut up.” 

Even as you sit up to catch your breath, your eyes wander over to the man’s bare upper body, before they drift down to the impressive tent bulging from his pants. Suddenly, you’re made painfully aware of how utterly empty you are. Arousal pulses through you, once again dripping out of your cunt at the thought of being stuffed full.  

Your obvious staring doesn’t go unnoticed; and neither does the way you shift as you’re rubbing your thighs together for more friction. Your shamelessly perverse act only reinforces the thrum in his already rock hard cock.

“Open up.” You do as you’re told, intuitively wrapping your lips around his long fingers, cheeks hollowing as you clean off the mess you had left. It spurs him on, the way you hold his gaze with those large doe eyes, blinking so lasciviously when he draws them back out, leaving behind a trail of saliva that snaps like gossamer on your lips.

“What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” He teases you, yet the slight waver in his voice as he struggles to mask just how much he’d like to cum right then and there, says otherwise. 

“Not nearly enough.” 

Your playful wit is nothing new to him. And while Alhaitham considers himself to be quite well versed in how you love to play coy, an expert in navigating around your flirtations—he’s far from immune to your coquettish displays. He’s only human after all… 

So it’s no fault of his own that you drive him absolutely insane.

Pupils blown wide and dilated with lust, he dips down until you can feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear, “I hope you don’t regret that.” His smooth baritone sends a shiver down your spine until it pools between your already sticky thighs, a vague promise of what’s to come.

Before you know it, he catches you in another eager kiss, rough and hopelessly greedy, as you fall back onto the mattress without a care. It only heightens your sense of urgency that he can’t help but grind into you.

His normal attire barely hides his bulge, but even underneath these loose clothes, the outline of his cock stands tall and unmistakably erect against the fabric—which you desperately need removed now, as you fumble with the waistband. Alhaitham chuckles lightly into the kiss before pulling away. Message received. 

He moves quickly, pants and underwear hastily thrown to the side and forgotten, because how could you possibly think of anything else when he stands before you, hands fisted around his magnificent cock, grunting at the little ounce of relief as he gives himself a few quick pumps. Precum dribbles from the flushed pink tip and your eyes follow as he spreads it along the impressive length. You can’t help but think that it’s… pretty. And oh how you adore pretty things.

He lines himself up at your entrance, cockhead just barely dipping inside as he hovers over you, and for the first time tonight, you realize just how incredibly vulnerable you are now, laid bare before him, ripe for the taking. But it’s okay if it’s him. Whether it’s the fuzziness mulling in your head, or your cunt that’s thinking for you, anything is fine as long as it’s Alhaitham.   

Above you, he swallows harshly and you can see the slow bob of his throat as he does so. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he murmurs. The rasp in his voice makes it apparent that it’s taking every ounce of fortitude not to just slam his entire length into you. 

The first hiccupped gasp that escapes your lips has him smiling smugly as he pushes in, splitting you open with ease from how wet you are. But the stretch as you struggle to accommodate his girth burns despite your previous preparation; he’s just so much bigger than his fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, he stretches you wider, whispering sweet nothings while he stuffs you full of his cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises, though it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Every time you think he’s done, he only continues to push further inside. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him and drawing out a choked curse that rolls tactlessly off his tongue. There’s no helping the way his self control fades when you’re squeezing him like that, your needy cunt intent on sucking him all the way in. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. It’s foreign and depraved and so vulgar compared to his usually eloquent speech—not that it isn't also incredibly attractive hearing him lose his composure like that—but it’s even more so especially because you’re the one making him feel this good. Your heart flutters at the thought and the vibrations of another muffled grunt ripple against your skin when you reflexively bear down again.

Alhaitham bottoms out in one final push, sending you reeling at how the thickest end of his shaft forces your little hole to stretch even wider to accommodate the width. A hitched cry leaves your throat and your arms fly to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as he presses soothing kisses along your jaw, though it does little to quell the heat rapidly igniting throughout your body.

“Are you alright?” There isn’t an ounce of teasing in his tone when he pauses to glance down, giving you a moment to adjust while ensuring you’re okay. 

Your hum of approval is all he needs to start moving in languid strokes that fill you to the brim, his shallow thrusts so lewdly squelching to the tune of your wetness. Each slow drag of his cock forces you to feel very ridge and vein as he grinds back and forth, pulling soft mewls out of you until they melt into breathless whines pleading for something more.

“Faster… f-faster please.” 

Who was he to deny you, when you’ve been taking him so well? Sliding ever so slowly, Alhaitham all but pulls out, leaving only the very tip of his cock to kiss your entrance. You don’t even have time to process the jarring emptiness before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust, powerful enough to send your entire body jostling from the impact. Your back arches in pleasure, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your mouth falls agape, the sound dying before it’s ever able to leave your throat. 

Alhaitham is relentless when he starts fucking you in earnest. The gentleness from earlier is gone, replaced by the callous way he repeatedly pounds into you, burying himself to the hilt every single time. He’s hitting depths you never thought possible, with each thrust sending shockwaves that ripple through you until it scrambles your mind, shattering that last piece of lucidity stubbornly holding you together.

“That’s it. Take it, just like that,” he coos, but you're too fogged over to comprehend his words. It’s clear your mind is currently occupied by other matters; matters such as the chant of his name atop your long string of strangled cries.

He revels at how pliant you are underneath him—so stimulated and keening out in pleasure at everything he does, greedy cunt eagerly swallowing every inch he offers, pulling him in with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on the nub while he twirls the other between his fingers, groaning when your nails dig into his shoulders, imprinting crescents onto his skin. The added stimulation elicits another set of frantic whimpers, and the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns.

“Haitham I’m… I’m so…” Close, he deducts. He can tell by the way your walls close around him.

Half of him wants to watch you struggle with your words in between all your panting and moaning, wants to withhold your sweet release until you can speak properly while he continues to piston in and out of you. The other half, driven by his wanton throbbing, slides a hand over the curve of your ass, lifting your leg to angle himself just right before plunging deep inside you, hitting that same spot from before that had you seeing stars. 

Loud, broken sobs tear through the room as his tip mercilessly drills into the spongy spot with pinpoint precision. Your nails rake down his back, and a sharp hiss manages to escape from his lips. It only fuels him more, makes his movements more erratic. Over and over, hit after hit, Alhaitham delivers an exhilarating pleasure that drives you to the edge of delirium. Warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill over and seep into every crevice of your being. 

It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s not enough. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. 

“I can feel you falling apart around me.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin, ignoring the fact that his voice comes out in ragged huffs, uneven from his labored breathing.

There’s no use denying how much you affect him as well— not when fire licks his body, coloring his pale skin flush. Nor when his expression is clearly strained, trying so desperately to hold on to his crumbling composure. You’d notice if you still had the capacity to process anything at all, but alas…

He lowers his head into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the tender skin before switching to your native tongue. “C’mon my beautiful mermaid… give it to me. Cum for me.”

The white hot bliss that sweeps across your body is maddening and it leaves you absolutely shattered. The vibrato in your voice cracks as you scream and sob, body going impossibly taut. You’re desperately gasping for air, drowning in the waves of euphoria that wash over you, but it pulls you in and drags you further down into delirium. You can’t think, you can’t speak. You can’t stop the trembling in your thighs and you can’t stop your cunt from spasming as he continues to fuck into you.

His pace slows but his strokes are longer and deeper, as if he’s trying to ingrain himself permanently within your walls. Your moans rise in pitch, turning to whimpers when his thrusts continue past your orgasm and into the settling overstimulation, his cock still taking from you where there’s no more to take.

You’ve never felt more like a paradox than you do now. Your head is the clouds, while your body feels heavier than ever. You’re painfully sensitive, squirming to get away as he chases his own release, yet your cunt still pulses and begs to milk his fat cock dry.

Weak arms reach up to cup his face, pulling him in for a lasting kiss, breathing him in like the air you so desperately need in your lungs. When you pull away, your eyes are so dazed and lidded, not yet recovered from the intensity of your orgasm, but already prickling with tears from the burn of overstimulation. 

“Make me yours.”

Alhaitham buries his head in the crook of your neck; there’s no hope of keeping up his composure now. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t come from those words alone. You already are, he tells himself. There’s nobody else he could ever want; nobody else could ever compare to how perfect you are for him. 

With a few final thrusts, he presses his weight into you and sinks his cock as deep as he can. He lets out a tattered moan and his hips stutter as he follows you over the edge, the warmth of his hot cum spilling into your insides. 

A fleeting thought crosses your mind: Maybe you want to stay like this forever. So warm and tingly and speared open in all consuming pleasure. 

His body slumps against yours, relaxed and utterly at peace. In the numbing midst of his high, Alhaitham’s mind is for once, a couple beats slower than his palpitating heart.

“I love you.” 

He wasn’t thinking when it had slipped out of his mouth. The words came so naturally, rolled off his tongue so easily. It’s too late by the time he realizes just what he’s said; he hopes to god you didn’t hear him, but it’s the only thing you catch amongst all the white noise. He loves you. Alhaitham loves you. 

It replays on a loop inside your head but your jumbled mess of a brain can only process so much right now. “Love… you…” you barely manage to scrape out. He quiets your empty babbles with another kiss, muffling your whines as he gently—though reluctantly—pulls out of your embrace. You shudder and whine at the loss.

“Easy now,” he soothes, distracting you with praises and soft pecks to your temples. To you, the emptiness in your cunt feels all too foreign, but he can’t help but stare at the lecherous sight of your combined fluids dripping out of your hole. He can already picture it in his head; the wet noise of your slick and his cum, all shoved back into you so that not a single drop is wasted…

Alhaitham shakes the thought from his head, forcibly tearing his eyes away before his own mind can betray him. He excuses himself before soon returning with a glass of water and a warm, wet towel in hand.

Slowly but surely, your lungs steady, and the fog dissipates, and you’re finally able to anchor yourself back to reality. A reality where your throat is dry, hoarse from all the retrospectively embarrassing sounds he had dragged out of you, and your limbs feel so heavy, as if your bones have all but dissolved into jelly.

“Gonna clean you up, okay?” 

With your permission, he helps sit you up, passing you the glass of water before he begins wiping off the excess fluid between your legs. The towel is rough against the still sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you jolt. Immediately, he utters an awkward apology, looking up to gauge your reaction. 

Water, split from the sudden movement, drips down your chin. Loose pieces of hair stick to your forehead; the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin makes sure of that. To look so disheveled yet so gorgeous at the same time… you’re absolutely enchanting in the afterglow. A flicker of pride rushes through him—he did that. The proof was in the bites and bruises littered across your skin. He smiles, sheer adoration present in his eyes. 

Your soft giggle breaks his train of thought. “What are you—” A yawn. “What are you looking at?” The chirp in your tone peaks just the tiniest bit out of your sleep-laden voice, but you’re too worn out to wait for an answer, opting to fall back onto the mattress instead. It’s not long before you fully yield to the exhaustion.

You look so peaceful in your sleep, so human, that he almost forgets you’re not. Still, he wonders how it would feel to hold you in his arms as he sleeps. To wake up beside you and watch as the sunlight illuminates your features.

Would it be selfish of him to indulge just a little more?

Tossing the towel aside, he joins you under the safety of his covers. He wraps an arm around your frame, pulling you close, holding you right next to where his heart beats in his chest. Alhaitham presses a soft, last kiss to the top of your head before he too, drifts off to sleep. 

When morning comes and the golden sun arises, everything will return as it was. Dreams and other such wishful delights are of the moon’s sovereignty, so tonight, let him hold on to this reverie for just a little while longer.

a/n2: This was my very first smut piece so I hope you enjoyed :’) Since this is an extra chapter, I tried not to include any details that would drive the plot too much, but ending it with just a tiny bit of angst to transition to the next part. thank u for reading ! ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

-clears throat- prohero izuku is still a social loser and the only pussy in his life is his abused pocket pussy that can barely fit his cock

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

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

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

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

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

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

have fun ;)

-

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

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sasha–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

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

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

“I still need you. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

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

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

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

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

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

“Close?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s not my-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

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

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

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

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

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

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

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

neuvillette eats pussy to distress

cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.

"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."

"am i correct?"

"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"

the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.

especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.

neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.

your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.

the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 

"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."

at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.

but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

BE A BETTER PET FOR ME.

synopsis: neuvillette found a perfect use for you after you left your homeland. (honestly this is so depraved and filthy and messed up i will just give you the warnings so you can decide if you wish to read it. neuvillete the man that you are!!)

pairing: dom!yan! neuvillette x fem!sub!reader; (mentions of dom!yan!dottore x reader) warnings: blowjobs, dubcon (barely), humping, dom/sub dynamics, breeding, pet play, hard kinks, masochist reader, facials, handjobs; mentions of: gang bangs, blackmail, hypnosis, bdsm, bondage, has plot kind of, probably more i can't think of right now.

You've always had to answer to someone in your life. Someone higher than you because they gaze down on everyone and you should be grateful they spared you a glance and asked you anything. If they relied on you get something done - at the orphanage you grew up in or the elections you ran - you should have counted yourself lucky they needed you at all. Leaving Snezhnaya wasn't easy by any means but luck and bravery happened to be on your side that night. No, maybe it was an idea of grandeur on your part?

Regardless of the reason, in your life you learned not to ask too many questions and Fontaine was not hard for you to get used to. Being part of this justice system reminded you of something familiar but far more noble than sending children to their punishments. And, while it did resemble a show, you weren't surprised by that - the only thing that surprised you was your boss.

Neuvillette, the archetypal leader with enough calm and manipulative wit to stand elevated above everyone. People marvelled at him, some were jealous that you were the one to carry his paperwork back and forth and you only have Neuvillette to thank for being so ruthless and cold they never suspected anything else.

In public settings, he didn't allow you to even stand near him. During work hours, you were treated just like anyone else. But after everyone left; Neuvillette never let you run away.

At first, given his nature, you thought you were being too paranoid. You thought his intense gaze that made you drop your pens was just his way of saying you were not good enough. His tugs at your clothes were only reminders of how sloppy you were, surely. He only did that to make you more presentable because he couldn't stand the sight of you. That must have been it.

However, you quickly realized that he was simply a man who wanted to control everything. People had specific roles to fulfil in his eyes and you should have been even more paranoid about your own.

Doubts went away on the night his gloved hand slid up your skirt during a banquet he didn't deem important enough. He saw you standing in the hallway and told you to follow him. He was so calm and composed even when locking the door behind him and pressing you against it. He didn't flinch while you were confused, his fingers were already sliding up your thigh.

'Your dress tonight is far too tempting. Simply groping you to fix it won't be enough.' were the last words he said before sliding your panties to the side and covering your mouth with his hand.

Neuvillette did not have enough regard for you that would disobey his wishes and, while you just remember being hazy, you don't remember fighting his advances.

And that is how it all began. Soon enough, your main job of sorting documents became secondary even if you still had to carry it out with perfection.

Your main job and joy transformed into being perfect enough for him to breed and break. You were lucky nobody was allowed to enter into his office without a direct invitation. If anyone did, they might have found you pressed against the walls or chained to his desk. Perhaps, they would have found you on a pile of important paperwork you brought with his cock buried deep inside while he manhandles you.

But he was so good at it. Sometimes you would stand on the sidelines during his speeches or trials and you would feel warm just from looking at him on that podium. He was always, always above you and a twisted need find it's way between your legs. You would never admit to anyone but him to where you disappeared to. You would never even tell him how, if he was on the radio, you would masturbate to his voice alone.

And fuck, did he have such a nice voice. Anytime it gave you a command, your spine would feel it. If he gave you praise and called you a 'perfect dumb toy', your body would get flushed. If he degraded you? You just felt the need to hear his insults over and over again. Neuvillette was a selfish man, but he loved to see and hear you break.

Right now, you were sitting down next to his chair. He was signing off the final papers you brought with one hand while his other absentmindedly played with your hair.

He would soon be finished. Your eyes carefully traced his movements in anticipation. Soon he would be done and you wouldn't have to keep rubbing your thighs together. Sometimes you would glance at this lap and see that he was already half hard. His libido was insatiable. And it felt so nice to know you were the only one he would breed and stain with his cum.

When he put the last stamp, you looked up at him. He didn't issue you a command and you didn't dare to do anything on your own.

'What? Are you looking at me and hoping for something?'

His voice was always cold unless he was moaning and panting against yohr body. Perhaps that is why you enjoyed everything he did if it made you feel wanted by a man like him?

'Are you so eager to moan out you love me while you cream all over my cock again?'

He hadn't even done anything and you were starting to get wet. Who would imagine such a proper man respected by all would ever say such a thing? Nobody. And that was the allure. Only you knew how much his depravity ran.

'Pet, move over in front of me.' A command. Finally. He could see your eyes light up as you dragged yourself over the floor to kneel down. Your thighs rubbed together and Neuvillette realized just how much he had spoilt you when your hand reached for his belt.

He glared at you and that was enough sign that you had done something wrong. To make it look like an accident, you placed it on his knee instead and rubbed small circles just so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.

Maybe he would punish you by tying you up again? Or he would deny your orgasms and cum on your stomach to prove you weren't good enough for him to actually fuck?

'Tell me pet, am I the best man you've ever been with?'

That was odd. Neuvillette never asked you questions of this nature. Usually they were only questions during passion like: 'You love being dragged on the floor don't you?' and 'Wouldn't you just look so good pregnant and stuffed with my seed?'. But this was new.

'The best man I've been with?' Maybe this was a new game of making you embarrassed? It certainly did the trick

'Y-Yes.' 'Prove it to me then. Before I replace you.'

Even from the darkness inside his office and your current position now you could see that light smirk he had while resting his head on his hand. He wanted to be especially cruel tonight but you never thought he would replace you so soon.

With a shaky hand and a racing mind you reached out for his belt. He allowed it this time but he wasn't amused. If he wanted to replace you, you'd just have to make him feel better than ever before.

Your thighs were so hot and warm you couldn't control yourself. You wanted nothing more than to put his cock in your mouth. No time to undress him or tug down your own clothes.

Neuvellitte let you just free his cock from the restraints and it was already hard by that look on your face. Warm skin, glassy eyes that didn't look anywhere else and complete obedience were in front of him. How could he not enjoy the face you didn't even realize your mouth was open before you pressed yourself forward to lick his tip.

He was such a pale man and yet his tip was the most beautiful shade of red to you. Your fingers wrapped around his girthy and veiny cock and your hips jerked slightly. You remembered how nice it felt when it was inside you - stretching you and hitting all the spots. You had to thank his generosity by circling the tip of it with your tongue. Your excitement was so immense that your mouth was filling with spit and since it was so late Neuvillette didn't care if it got all over his cock and dripped down to his pants.

You were so eager and adorable, looking blissful before he even did anything to you. He thought it would make him happy but instead he furrowed his brow.

'Not good enough.'

You barely had time to register what he said before he gripped your jaw and pulled your head up. The sudden shift had you groaning because you were still on your knees.

'You say i am the best man you've been with yet that look on your face didn't change.'

What was he talking about?

'It looks the same on the photos where you're sucking off that doctor. Tell me, did you take me for a fool?'

All the warmth in your body suddenly disappears. You feel cold, colder than ever. Maybe even cold like your homeland and the messed up laboratory Dottore forced you in. Neuvillette knew. He knew about your past and the fact you were a fugitive. Would he turn you in? Wait, was this his messed up trial to prove you didn't deserve this comfortable life?

You were shivering by this point and refusing to cry but you simply couldn't stop your eyes from getting teary when Neuvillette tossed an envelope and all the photos flew out.

It reminded you what you ran way from and what formed all these kinks Neuvillette triggered again.

There was a photo of you in a cow bikini drinking milk from a bowl on the floor with bruised hands. Then, there was one of you being tied to his table. Another one of you with a special device that hypnotised you. One where you were covered in cum all over your body. And the last one was the one Neuvillette spoke of; it was from when Dottore made you fuck him and some of his clothes. A perfect shot of you giving one of them a blowjob that he took.

But you ran away! You did everything you could! Was this a warning? How did Neuvillette get this envelope?

'I never thought you would dare lie in front of me. You should know better than that.'

His voice was cold but never like this. Never did you feel hatred from it but not it was different. Neuvillette hated you and you lost everything you had. Your hair was standing up, your hands were shaking and you could feel your heartbeat pounding away in your ears. Neuvillette was getting blurry and you were growing more desperate.

Then, when he saw you like that, completely afraid and dependent on him, Neuvillette's twisted desires grew. No where on those photos did you look so lost and desperate. He was probably the first man to make you feel that way and he couldn't deny how your brokenness made his cock throb. Then, he decided to be your saviour instead. Preventing crime and punishing it went hand and hand. He would throw you a bone to cling to, and would get a pet even more eager to please.

How desperately he wanted to see your ruin. To hear it and taste it on his tongue.

'Prove to me how desperate you are and I might take pity on you.'

Save you from himself? You aren't sure if it was the glimmer of hope or the messiness in your head at all those years in Dottore's hands that made you act but your blood started to flow and bloom again.

All you had to do was prove just how good and desperate you are. Nobody was better at that than you and nobody got more wet at the idea of it.

You placed your knees on the sides of Neuvillette's left leg. Those glassy eyes of yours and tear strained cheeks were a sight to behold when he saw you were looking up at him in marvel. Then, you rested your head on his knee and reached to jerk him off with your right hand. Your head was hazy and tired, but your hips were moving on their own. You were grinding down on his boot; you were fucking yourself crazy on it.

That night, you kept humping his foot until you reached the most intense and messy orgasm. You were so fucked out and desperate you probably didn't even know you were drooling and slobbering all over his pants while moaning how you were a good pet; how badly you wanted him to fuck you. Fuck, you didn't even realize your hand had stopped moving before he reached his high because you tired yourself out and fell asleep.

But Neuvillete didn't mind; he simply let you stay on his lap looking so serene before he gave his cock a few final strokes to paint your face white.

Maybe he should thank that man for sending him this envelope. Maybe even for training you to be such a perfect pet. But one thing was for sure, he definitely wouldn't let you go anytime soon.

avert you eyes. i was hormonal

a/n: ty @medusashima & @kweenkatsuki-fics for enabling me

cw: infidelity, dubcon (reader is drunk), heavy petting, male masturbation, college au!, frat boy kiri

Kirishima Eijirou is a good guy. Everyone knows him for his bright smiles and manly charm. So it's no surprise to you when he offers to take you home when you're drunk. Your friend had long since passed out, and Kirishima being the sweet boyfriend he is made sure she was safe in his room before offering to give you a ride home.

"So," he says, voice soft in the warmth of his car, "did you have fun?" Your head lulls to the side to look at him, eyes glossed over in your drunken state. Kirishima internally curses himself for the hard on he can feel growing as he looks at you. He was a good guy, a good boyfriend always. It didn't hurt to just look, right?

"Sooo much fun," you slur, as glossy lips pout prettily up at him, "wish Sero was there though." This peaks Kirishima's interest. He knows he has no claim over you, that he has his own girlfriend.

But hearing the longing sigh that falls from your mouth at the mention of his frat brother has a pit forming in his belly. "What's so great about him?" he asks, with a laugh. He's thankful you're so drunk that you don't pick up how cold it sounded.

Another longing sigh falls from your lips along with mumbles on how he has "Great dick," before you're leaning on his shoulder across the center console and falling asleep.

—

Kirishima's gentle with you when he brings you home, big arms cradling you to his chest as he carries you through the halls and into your room.

And, if anyone were to ever ask, it really was all your fault. He was going to be good. He promised himself that he'd drop you off, leave you be. Take his frustrations out with his girlfriend- like he should. But you're pulling him, your hand wrapped around two of his fingers as you beg him to help you change into comfy clothes. Surely after how nice he's been, he deserves some kind of reward, doesn't he?

Kirishima's hands linger, spurred on by your slurred moans, protests falling flat when his hand cups your mound. "Kiri," you slur, "shouldn't be-shouldn't be doin this." His free hand pulls his leaking cock out, his tip flushed red. "But look, baby. Look how hard I am f’you. It hurts so bad," he says with faux sadness, "and l've been helping you out, can't you just help me too?" It's easy to fall into his words, his soft eyes, because Kirishima Eijirou is a good guy. Your eyes turn into hearts as you stare up at him, watch the way his hand fists his cock while the other runs over your chest. Pinching and pulling at your taut nipples, the way his cock twitches when you let a moan slip from the stimulation.

And when hot ropes of cum fall onto your face, and your name trickles out of his mouth, it's only right that you clean up the mess. He's helped you out after all and besides - Kirishima is such a nice guy, doesn't he deserve more of a reward?

Ganyu’s pussy is so fat and pudgy and soft and delicious e if she wants to scissor you, she has to spread her lips with two fingers and concentrate so so hard to keep your clits kissing <33 which means that sometimes she fucks so hard and so intense that the headboard creaks and groans, though it’s hardly heard over the delectable sounds of her fat juicy pussy smothering yours <3

okay, we know musician!eren is a freaky lil’ frog. That he loves doing all the things to please his lady and sometimes, he can’t control himself. But he definitely underestimates the lengths that (y/n) will go to just to see him satisfied. He loves to think he’s corrupting you or teaching you all the nasty shit that transpires in the bedroom. He always takes it to the next level…but one night? You send him into shock like he’s never seen when you take the reigns.

walking into the bedroom in nothing more than a robe, not saying a word..not a single thing underneath as you push him down on the bed and tell him to lay back. “Let me ride that fucking face.” He’s not used to you taking control and being so domineering but once he gets a taste of you dominating him, he wants nothing else. Especially when you cloud his view with nothing but your thick thighs, wrapping them around his head as you straddle from the bridge of his nose to his pouty little lips….smacking your own ass as he carefully devours your cunt. “Put your tongue in it, baby. Right there…” encouraging him as he grunts underneath, loving every second. Whether he can breathe or not is not none of your concern. But you can sense just how much he loves it when you turn around after twerking on his upper half to see his cock standing at attention. With his pretty features coated in your slick, it’s your turn to return the favor. Doing so by gliding your tongue down his chest and abs, something he’s done to you many of times. But not before kissing at his nipples and making this supposed alpha male twitch and shudder like a little bitch. “F-fuck..that’s—“ “feels good, doesn’t it?” Questioning with quite the devious glare on your face. Knowing that he’s about to really lose his mind when you move your mouth to the tip of his dick; making suctioning motions on it which always gets him to shuddering.

he’s so sensitive, it’s an absolute shame…poor thing’s clutching the bed by the time you really get into it. Eating his dick up as if you’ve been starved for it. Let saliva ooze and seep all down the sides as you take it to the back of your throat with no regard for your own breathing. “Princess..s-shit! You gotta slow down…oh my god.” “I’ll stop when I’m ready. This my dick.” You care even less when he busts a nut in the back of your throat and you just keep sucking without a care. Gulping, gagging and slurping noises filling the once quiet room, right along with Eren’s pathetic moans. His chest and stomach are caving so bad that he looks as if he’s hyperventilating. Alternating between his balls and slimy shaft..it’s as sexy as it messy and he doesn’t want you to stop. However, he knows he can’t last if you keep this up.

which is exactly why you waste no time climbing on top and riding him until this man’s eyes are permanently residing in the back of his head. Something that doesn’t take much when he’s already so depleted but once that tight little pussy starts gripping around him, he’s losing it. Stuck even!…

“Wait, baby…I don’t think—“ but you don’t need him to think, move or even speak right now..all you need him to do is lie there and let you fuck him senseless. Bouncing and burrowing that heavy ass down on his dick until it’s swallowed him whole. He’s never had anything like it. Watching your perform tricks he didn’t even think possible. From riding on your top toes to doing splits. The entire time, that slimy mixture drenching his entire pelvis..the pretty pearlescent fluid all a result of how good it felt. You even spread your own cheeks open so he can see firsthand how insane your grip is. Before long, he’s exploding yet again with another mind numbing nut and this time, it’s spilling inside of you. Only because you refused to let up and told him simply: “come in this pussy or you not coming at all..” and he tried not to be so weak..damn, he’s doing the best he can but he’s never had anybody fuck him like this. And after two emptied loads residing in your womb and his legs practically shaking, you decide to let him go..leaving him with nothing more than a kiss on the head as you hold him close to you and let him calm down. “It’s okay, baby..just breathe.”

knowing you just took his soul and set it in a fucking jar. Needless to say though..he’ll need that treatment more often.

Neuvillette brainrot

Neuvillette loves more than anything, even water.

Is watching you struggle on his cock. He loves it, how cute you look, struggling back tears, your poor throat constricting on his shaft, and his fat, plump tip is poking at the back of your throat. Drooling in his precum.

It's always amused him whenever you suggest to suck him off every now and then. Sweet man even assured you that sucking him off isn't necessary in your lovemaking. Rather, he was more than happy to please you and taste you.

But by the archons.

The way your fat tears, spit, and his cum dripping off your chin after you spent what felt like hours sucking him off. He couldn't contain himself. Ruining your pretty face, your lips swollen, eyes watery and doe-like.

Every chance he will get is to let you suck him off and swallow all his cum into your tummy. He loves whenever you look up at him when he forces his cock deeper into your throat, slightly grinding you face into the hilt of his cock and his groin. He loves the way you instinctively trlax your jaw and grobe his balls. Thick and full of the cum he'll force diwn that amaaing throat if yours.

Go on touch yourself, itll add to him being mean and rough from his long exhausted day of work for the Court of Fontaine. The hours he spent in the Opera House watching couples divorce and people fight for their innocence. Little did they know that the chief justice was fantasizing about your amazing mouth and tongue circling his cock.

Your warm hands, massaging, touching, and gripling against him as he fucks your warm throat. Gods he wished he could just fuck that mouth of yours everyday until the taste and feel of his cum is second sense to you.

Whenever, he leaves the Opera to retreat to the Palalis of Mermonia. He will always sit on the couch within his office and ask you to suck his fat pretty cock with your sweet, warm, mouth.

Dare i say; what flows and taste of water in a glass for 1?

could you do smut prompt 22 w/Neuvillette where he's the one getting walked in on?

I have just the thing for you Anon! I wrote this very fast, it inspired me!

Pairing: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, walking in, size kink, handjob, praise, fingering, tail use, biting

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Things like this are what get's rid of writing block.

22. "Don’t you know how to knock?!”

Despite being his lover Neuvillette rarely slept in the same room as you when ever you were at an inn. You chocked it up to him being too much of a gentleman to ask you to sleep with him, afraid of how it would sound. The only time you've seen him in any state of undress was for bathing and the rare occasion where you slept in the same bed. You wanted tonight to be one of those rare nights.

It was your mistake that you didn't knock. In your defense you were so used to seeing him in his judge uniform that you never thought you'd walk in on him changing, fully naked still, right in the middle of pulling his pants up. "Don't you know how to knock?!" His turn wasn't fast enough to hide his big cock and neither were his hands going to cover it. The red tips of his ears peaked past his long white hair, telling you that he was just as flustered as you, if not more because he was the one being walked in on.

"Sorry! I just... wanted to sleep with you tonight. Would... that be okay?" He didn't turn to face you but you heard him hum in agreement. He was quick to get into his bed, hiding his face away from yours in embarrassment. Without saying a word you joined him. Anything you did say would only embarrass him more, you knew he didn't like showing himself much.

Minutes seemed like hours with the amount of tension in the room. You'd seen each other naked before but you'd never done anything sexual past grinding. Neuvillette always stopped it before it went too far, even if that meant that he had to leave with a quite embarrassing cum stain on the front of his pants.

"I... don't mean to be rude but your cock is kind of... poking against me." Such hardness and size was getting hard to ignore, wetness pooling between your own legs now too.

"Yes, this is what happens why you sleep next to me, it's why I usually wear armor. It helps hide it a bit more." You tried to turn around but his arms tightened against you, "Please don't look."

For some reason you felt rather brave tonight, "I won't look, but can I touch?" You moaned when his cock twitched against your ass in response. Silence hung in the air, you thought you messed up and that he'd tell you to leave, but instead Neuvillette took your hand and wrapped it around his cock. "It's so warm, and so hard in my hand."

"I want to touch you too." He nibbled on your ear, sharp teeth making you wetter, his hand pulling your nightgown up and pushing two fingers into your panties, spreading your slick pussy juices around, "Are you this wet from feeling me? Or was this... I thought I smelled something sweet upon your arrival. So it was your arousal."

You tightened your grip on his cock, your fingers shy of touching now that you had him in your hand. Unsure how he liked it best you started with small strokes, down and up, rolling his cum over your palm and his tip and pushing it down to his balls. Neuvillette sighed against your neck, his hair falling over his cheek, tickling your body. Slowly his fingers spread your pussy open and slid inside you, no resistance at all. That's how wet you were for him.

"Don't squeeze me so much, you'll make a mess. More then you already have." Neuvillette's hand cupped over your pussy, the warm palm pressed against your clit and grinding up and down with the in and out motion of his fingers.

Warm cum spread across your fingers, it made it so much easier to move your hand how you wanted, "You're one to talk." You gasped when his hand pressed you against him, you could feel the length of his cock and his cum against your back, "Hold on, I can do it like this." But he could still finger you, he didn't want to stop now, not with your cunt so tight around his digits.

"Let's fix that shall we?" He pressed a kiss below your ear, then his lips were on your mouth as you found yourself on your back. He was still on his side, looking from his hand to yours, the way your legs opened up further now that you were on your back, "Better now isn't it?"

You didn't trust your voice but that was fine, your lips on his would convey your feelings just fine. And your hand on his hard cock even more. The two of you finally found a nice pace that worked for you both, yours faltering every time he curled his long fingers inside you and pressed against your front wall. Neither of you could keep your hips still, his pumping his cock into your hand, yours riding his fingers for all they were worth. All the noises you made for each other made you want to come so bad.

"I love looking at you. I never would have imagine anyone could look so heavenly, much less that you'd be so wonderfully receptive and... lewd." A third finger started circling your opening, "I want to see you stretched to your limit. You need to be able to take all of me, think of this a practice okay? So I don't hurt you in the future."

The soft whispers made it easier for you to relax enough to be able to take a third, but not without slight pain. Looking at his cock though, this kind of practice is necessary. Now all three of his fingers were curling, hitting your spot perfectly, making it hard for you to focus on your task at hand.

Neuvillette knew you were close by not just by the tightness of your pussy but by your scent too, so potent he could almost taste it on his tongue. "Need to come. Will you do it with me love? I know you're close as well. I'm sorry if it's fast but your scent drives me insane, I'm barely able to stop myself from mounting and breeding you." His hand sped up, filling the room with squelching sounds, one bleeding into the other.

"O-Okay, just let me do something first." You changed your position again, this time facing him, his cock facing your pussy and stomach, "I want your cum all over me." The prospect of marking you sent him over the edge. Moments later he shoot his load over you, sticky and hot strings of white all over your front, on both your hands. Neuvillette pulled you close with his soft tail, cradling your back as he felt you come on his fingers, body shaking, but you knew you were safe, no matter how much you felt like you were falling and moaning and screaming out to him. "Pull me closer." All to happy to oblige his free hand rested on the top of your head.

Your cum covered hand fell over his wrist when he tried to pull out, "I can stay inside if you want. The pulsing warmth feels quite nice." A deep rumble vibrated inside his chest, you felt it so clearly, but chose not to say anything, for if you have he might turn away again to be safe from your teasing. There will be time for teasing in the morning.

→ STARFUCKER + You're the president of Eren's fan club and your blog, dedicated to him, gets millions of hits a day - earning you some sort of status. You've been working for him for months now, only to find out that he's not as kind as people perceive him but you don't care. Somehow, the thankless job is bearable so long as you can be around your celebrity crush all the time. Available on ao3.

CONTENT WARNINGS + afab reader, smut, mature language, explicit adult content, general submissive/dominant behavior, teasing, creampie, unprotected sex, degradation, humiliation, squirting, slut-shaming, seduction, dirty talk, cumming inside, vaginal fingering, praise, begging, dacryphilia, power abuse, cheating, filming, leaking sex tapes, revenge sex, lots of toxicity, enemies to lovers, reader is kind of a self-insert but still ambiguous, oral sex (m & f), masturbation (f) wc: ~ 10.5k

tags: @whotfsjay @shamviholic @bakugosgorl @levisjinchuriki @yesv01 @liliorsstuff-blog @dttouper @bloompompom @luvjiro @daisynik7 @holydayaria @ravereina @i-literally-cant-with-this @hehehehesthings @chocoyanchan @hinata7346 @r0ckst4rjk @d4ddies-wh0re @ploylulla @doestalker @misscathands @euvwia

taglist app + masterlist

I think this fic is SO out of line that I'm almost too afraid to post it on here. Its not worse than Public Enemy but it's super toxic. Honestly, please don't romanticize this behavior.

You hear the pair converse freely in the next room, rattling off random tasks and chores that need to be done in preparation for tonight's show and trying in vain to assign roles to one another. Eren’s voice is dead, monotoned, and clearly uninterested but Crystal continues rambling. Only when she realizes how futile it is to argue with him does she remember your existence. “Let’s just get her to do.” She muses.

“Y/N!” Your name in the form of a screech floats through the air, followed by the clicking of heels on linoleum. You know exactly who’s summoning you without even looking up. “Do you think you could you pick up Eren’s dry-cleaning? His concert fit should be ready by now.” Eren’s girlfriend approaches you, a fake smile shining in your face as she belittles your actual position in the singer’s life. It’s not your job to pick up his dry cleaning but she knows you’d never refuse service to your favorite artist, and she loves to exploit your devotion. She just loves to push your buttons.

All you can manage to do is lift the corners of your mouth into a begrudging smile and reluctantly grab your keys. On the way out of the building, you catch a glimpse of the man you idolize as he works at his desk, skilled hands typing away as he works on his lineup for tonight’s performance. He’s so focused and he’s wearing a set of headphones, so he hardly notices when his girlfriend opens the door to his studio to let herself back in after giving the leader of his fan club busy work.

Your devotion to the man has you doing these things, that most certainly aren’t your job, day in and out. He doesn’t even do anything to relay his appreciation to you and he never will. Why should he? If you don’t want to handle his miscellaneous tasks, you’re free to leave his orbit. You’re not on his payroll or anything. Getting to be around your favorite singer is payment enough. And, really, it would be worthwhile if you could do it all without his demeaning ass girlfriend bothering you all the time. She could easily hire someone else to pick up Eren’s dry cleaning (to get his morning coffee, to order his clothes, occasionally post on his social media when he doesn’t feel like it, walk his fucking dog) but there’s some kind of sick satisfaction that she gets out of assigning all the chores to you.

You almost understand her though. If you were her, you’d be annoyed with his fans hanging around him all the time with hearts in their eyes. The only excuse you have for being there is since you’re the owner of the most popular Eren Jaeger blog and all of his fans really care about your opinions. They follow you and read every article you post after his concerts, consume all your photos and content with diligence and maybe that online presence is what owns you a pass into his life, backstage to all of his concerts and the right to take care of his chores.

You try to make quick work of the remedial labor, not wanting to receive a text from the girlfriend to complain about you being slow. If you have to risk a grisly car wreck to please the artist, so be it. You can’t really help yourself, every Eren Jaeger-centric action you make is simply out of your control. That’s just the hold he has on you. You hazardously make your way through traffic like this out of loyalty.

And when you arrive back only to find that his girlfriend has flitted off on an influencer’s business, you’re happy to be the one that hands the burlap bag to Eren. His coldness is nothing new. It doesn’t bother you anymore. When he takes the coat hanger out of your grasp, your fingers touch for a split second, and you have to stop yourself from squealing right there in front of him. You receive no thanks for the futile task he let his girlfriend assign to you.

“Where’s Crystal?” You find the audacity to ask him, not particularly curious as to where she ran off to. You’re just looking for an excuse to get him to talk to you, to hear his voice. You just want him to say anything that’s addressed just to you and no one else. Eren gives you a sour look as if to say that you should know exactly where she went and reprimand you for asking such a dumb question. He takes the clothing into his changing room and slams the door behind him. A thankless job, indeed.

Eren’s girlfriend is posting photos every few minutes of herself at some... opening. You don’t really know where she had to go, that was more important than her partner’s concert – his lifeblood – but it doesn’t matter to you. You ignore the notifications from her insta as they pool on your phone and don’t take your eyes off Eren’s form. You’re behind him backstage but, as often as you find yourself staring at his face and studying his features, you can imagine how he looks while singing right now. He looks so attractive in the clothes that you picked up for him.

His grip on the mic is almost violent and the lyrics he shouts are no different. He’s let it slip once before – what most of his songs are about. His issues (borderline hatred) with his father are where he gets the inspiration for most of his music. And, sure, Eren may have been drunk when he told you that. He may have been feeling vulnerable when the two of you were alone after a previous show or maybe he was pissed because the girlfriend bailed on him minutes before he was set to go on stage. You don’t care if he confided in you because there was no one else around. Something about being the only person on the planet that knows such intimate information about Eren makes you feel so special.

There’s never been another moment like that since. Despite his drunkenness, Eren remembers what he said to you. You know he does. He remembers and he treats you differently than he did before he spilled his guts and cried to you (not that there’s a stark difference). You can’t bring yourself to wish that moment away though, no matter how he treats you now because of it. Thanks to that day, his music has been given an even deeper meaning to you. The spotlight you let shine on him is even brighter than it ever was. The pedestal you hold him on is even higher. No amount of coldness from him can change those feelings. You find it in yourself to break your eyes away from the singer for a split second and jot down little notes of import about his performance on your phone. Material for later.

The crowd’s roar dulls for you. A sense of intimacy washes over your headspace, creating a sensation of catharsis – proving that the concert is yet another religious experience. Their screams could never compare to the ones in your head. Moments like this make you feel like he’s only singing to you, like there aren’t thousands upon thousands of other people in the stadium all there because they love his music as much as you do; because that’s not possible. No one loves Eren as much as you do.

Without fail, once again, the world around you fades away and all that remains is the unbridled love you have for your favorite artist and the words of pain that he wrote to release his trauma; knowledge that only you have. The lyrics resonate deep within your soul, even though you can’t really relate to them. Sounds echo and triumph throughout the entirety of the stadium.

Eren’s voice is solely speaking to you right now, reaching places in the depths of your soul that only someone as magnetic as him could hit with such effortless notes. The connection you feel to him always flies right over his head as if he can’t feel it. And if he doesn’t, you suppose that’s okay for now. You’re not sure what event could be so important for a perfectly sane woman to choose over her long-term boyfriend, and you don’t really care. All you know is that, if Eren were yours, you’d still remain right where you are now and that’s right next to him.

Each lyric, song to song, seems to be infused with the complexities of your heart. You unravel there and then, tears flowing down your cheeks and smearing every bit of makeup you’d powdered on before. And, although you’d like to remain blissfully blind and allow yourself to try and take on the overwhelming connection between the two of you, you’re not ignorant to the reality that surrounds you.

You’re not the only one that cherishes Eren’s music. You’re just lucky. You can tune them out all you want but this building is filled to the brim with passionate and adoring fans, each with their own varying degrees of love for Eren Jaeger. They too have found solace in his words. And, to save yourself from hyperventilating over that fact, you retreat into your subconscious and pretend that all of this is just for you.

It may be tempting to believe that your love for Eren surpasses all the others, but you know he won’t reciprocate. He can barely be bothered to thank you for all your devotion. So why do you find yourself here so often? Why do you do this to yourself? How do you always end up backstage at his shows, giving him all your love, and on your knees sobbing for him? This objectively surreal experience doesn’t cheapen, doesn’t falter. Neither does your adoration.

You spend the Uber ride home floating on your own little cloud, completely boneless. Your brain makes moves for your body, as if you’re on autopilot. He brushed you off just as usual, but it doesn’t matter. Your heart still swells, filled with passion. You shower quickly, the day you just had flowing down the drain effortlessly and when you throw one of Eren’s old concert tees over your head, your legs carry your weight to the bed; anxious to sleep the euphoric concert high off.

All you can really find the energy to do, once you’re in bed, is own your Tumblr app to jot down a few notes and observations from the concert and infuse them with your own feelings – something that the Eren fans that follow your account have come to love over the years. The millions of them will be expecting a post from you pretty soon but there’s no way you can find the will to write paragraphs upon paragraphs, especially with the way that Eren dismissed you as soon as he got off stage.

Even with laziness in your bones, you can’t stop your rogue thumb from scrolling through your feed. You never can. One of your mutuals has been writing all day, leaving a feast of Eren fanfics for you to fantasize over. Your hungry eyes scan each and every word, consuming the smut to your heart’s content. It’s not long before you feel a neediness growing between your legs and it’s too hard to ignore.

You wanna scream out loud. Fuck, she’s such a good writer, you think. The AUs of Eren being your college classmate and corrupting you have this hold on you that you can’t explain, and this author is phenomenal at them. Your fingers travel between your legs and past the waistband of your panties before you can stop them. The knowledge that he’s really nothing like this in real life doesn’t matter at all to you.

The soft pads of your fingertips gingerly glide against your already sensitive skin. Down, down, down, further until you’re greeted with that tell-tale slickness. Eren’s fics never fail to elicit this type of reaction from your body and the guilt you feel for consuming it, even creating it, all while you work so closely to him in real life only drive you to allow your fingers to dive deep with your soft walls. You drop your phone, mind revisiting how you felt during the act of reading the fanfiction and allow your whines to climb in pitch.

All the times when you accidentally stood too close to the singer and could get hints of his cologne replay in your mind. All the memories when he’d say your name with that gruff voice of his flow throughout your brain. When your hands grazed his so that you could hand him the dry-cleaning bag – remembering the feeling of his feverish skin sends shockwaves through your body and it’s all too much. You feel your orgasm approaching fast.

The thought that really pushes you over the edge sends surges of guilt through your body but, when you remember the night that he was too intoxicated and vulnerable to stop himself from confiding in you about his trauma, you cum harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. The idea of him needing you to be there for him is almost too much to bear.

As you come down from your orgasm, the energy your actions have given you urge you to sit up in bed and reach for your PC – ready to write. Still, your article about tonight’s concert will have to hold. Your followers will understand. It’s not long before you’re in the dark of your bedroom, only getting light from your laptop and taping away at the keyboard. The smut flows out of your brain into word form like it’s nothing and, while it may take you some time, you post a quick oneshot on your side blog. This is not an uncommon activity for you. Far from it and you always post your smut under a completely anonymous name so that no one will know it’s been written by the president of Eren’s fanclub. You fall back into your duvet – the fresh smut on your blog, a thin sheen of sweat, and a dewy mess between your legs serving as the only reminder of your perversion.

The studio is silent, but it doesn’t' phase you. The only sound coming from the air conditioning unit next to you. You hung out at Eren’s studio all night, occasionally running an errand or two for him. His girlfriend didn’t come by, and he didn’t want to have to leave his work to get his own lunch or something. That’s what you’re for. The day dragged on into night seemingly in an instant. It’s been a while since he called you for something. You sight as you get up from your haphazard perch on the sofa and knock on Eren's studio door. You usually have to knock twice because he wears headphones when he’s working. You raise your hand to knock once more but the door swings open and you’re met with an irritated expression, your fist still raised in front of you.

Eren looks at you expectantly, still silent. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading out for the night. Do you need me to take care of anything else?” When you arrived at his workspace, you brought breakfast for him. In between stints of him staying locked away in his room, you brought him lunch. Now here you both are at nearly ten at night and he hasn’t bothered you for much else. “Dinner, maybe?”

Eren gives you a look that bothers you. It looks as if he means to ask you if you have anything else to do besides bringing him all three of his meals. He looks like he wants to tell you to worry about yourself. He could order food. You worry about the day he tells you that he doesn’t need you. It’s always burried beneath the surface. You know that day is coming. “No, just leave for fucks sake Y/N.”

Your idol looks at you with a disgusted expression and slams the door in your face. For a moment, all you can really do is stare at the surface of the steel door ominously shut in front of you. Never a thank you. Never a hint of gratitude. Bastard. Something in you snaps. The resolve you hold onto by the skin of your teeth cracks a little and you don’t stop yourself from banging on the door once more. Eren groans in frustration from the other side and swings it open, repeating his actions with a little more rage on his face this time. “The fuck?!” He shouts, looking ready to berate you.

His eyes are furious, clearly already dealing with being frustrated all day because his girlfriend is posting on IG all day about all the fun, she’s having without him while he’s working. Maybe you don’t make matters any better, hovering around him when he really doesn’t need you to be. That possibility rests neglected in the back of your mind so that you can get your words out, finally speaking your mind. “You know...” And you give yourself time to run over your words to be sure they’re exactly what you want. “You could be nicer to me. I do so much for you, and you never even thank me.”

Eren exhales, beyond pissed at you. He wishes he could fire you, but you don’t necessarily work for him. You’re not on his company’s payroll or anything. Neither he nor his girlfriend pays you for all the work you do for him. That’s what he finds so pathetic about you. You willingly get out of bed every morning with the intention of running his errands and playing servant to someone that doesn’t even want you around. What really pisses him off is that he can’t even kick you out of his life. He’s brought it up to his management. Can we do something about the annoying fangirl that’s always following me around, he asked in a meeting once.

It seemed like a fair question, but he was advised by multiple people to give you things to do until you got bored of him and found someone else to obsess over. Your blog is read by the majority of his fans. The popularity of your words, thoughts, and opinions isn’t lost on him. What would happen if he were outed for being an asshole to the girl that worships him and dedicates so much time to him and his career? God, he’d probably get cancelled or something. That knowledge of the power and influence you hold over him is not lost on him. It lingers in the back of his head but the words he throws at you in the moment are a product of him not thinking clearly – letting his annoyance control his every move. “I didn’t ask you to dedicate all your time to me. You chose to do this, Y/N, so I really don’t owe you any gratitude.” He shouts once more.

The logic behind the fact that he didn’t ask you to do anything you do for him, therefore he doesn’t have to thank you, is bullshit. How hard is it to say thank you to someone that gives you all of their time? That devotes it all to you so selflessly? You do more than his worthless girlfriend does! “That’s not true!” You have to refrain from stomping your foot. You feel your body heat up. Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how you’re feeling. Confusion scrambles your thoughts. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

It’s not that you did anything wrong. He never wanted you around from the beginning. From day one, Eren knew that he didn’t want to be the type of artist that had stupid things like fan clubs. He knows that it isn’t your fault that he feels this way but, at this moment, he doesn’t care. You act like a Make-A-Wish kid, and he finally speaks his truth, not caring how harsh he might sound. “I just don’t want to deal with some starfucker all the time!” His tone carries throughout the sound booth that you’ve both stepped into and, to say the accusation hurt your feelings, would be a real understatement.

You really can’t believe he just said that to you. Of course, you’re beyond attracted to him. Maybe you’re not so subtle in your jealousy of his girlfriend. Fuck, maybe you’re obvious. You’ve never crossed the line with him though. Inappropriate urges come and go, and you ignore them like a trooper because that’s just what adults are supposed to do.

“I’m not a starfucker!” You exclaim, annoyed that he assumes the worst of you and won’t even give you a chance. Your love for him is better than any sexual attraction there could be. Eren is more than that. You love his music. You love his heart and soul. The love you have for him would be just as strong without his body. Sometimes, you wonder why you worship Eren. He’s never given you a shred of appreciation for all of the love you give him – not that you feel like he should reciprocate. It’s almost as if he goes out of his way to avoid the words thank you.

His music is... otherworldly though and it speaks for itself. He’s talented and no one, not even you, can take that away from him. No matter how he treats the president of his fan club, he’ll never lack open doors in his life. There’s always going to be an endless line of women just like you to worship the ground he walks on, and he knows that. You’re not sure why you feel the need to fruitlessly defend your intentions to him. “I'm… your biggest fan." He’s never going to believe you anyway.

“What’s the fucking difference.” A rhetorical question but your head swells with answers, all proving your innocent intent. Eren turns to seat himself back at his work desk, an indication for you to leave him alone without another word. The self-defense you keep rattling off is hard to stop though. You can’t help yourself.

You finally snap. “Not everyone wants to fuck you, Eren.” It’s... a lie. You’re lying right now but he doesn’t have to know that. Your service to him, the blog you run, everything that you’ve done to further advance his career, comes from an innocent place.

He chuckles and pulls his headphones from around his neck, dropping them on the soundboard in front of him. He’s not entirely arrogant or full of himself. “I know that.” He mutters under his breath before standing to his feet and towering over you. His voice chills and he steps towards you, so close that you can smell his cologne. “But I know you do.” More arrogance pours out of his mouth. He speaks as if he knows with absolute certainty that you hold sexual attraction for him. This side of him would be so unattractive if he weren’t completely right.

That’s the thing though. He’s not just being his arrogant self. Eren is speaking like he knows he’s right and your heart drops at the realization. “H-how?” As if that word alone isn’t a direct indication of his intuition. He doesn’t break eye contact with you and the intensity between you grows. You begin to feel dizzy.

Eren sucks his teeth and exhales, giving a look signaling that he’s about to drop a bomb on you and before he even opens his mouth, you know exactly what’s really going on – why he’s so confident in his accusation that your intentions are less than pure. “Because I read your blog.”

Your heart stops beating for a moment, but you hide your shock well. You haven’t lost yet. You can still cover this up. He didn’t specify which blog. “Congratulations, asshole. Millions of people read my blog.” It’s not a lie. Millions of people read your blog dedicated to attending Eren’s shows, his daily routines, or whatever else you post. People like that type of stuff. No one knows that you run a second smut blog. You did so well when setting the account up, using a burner email to sign up and a burner phone number to secure the account. You keep them separate from each other and even use a fake pseudonym on the secret account. It’s airtight. He doesn’t know.

Eren’s next words shatter you though. Your entire online reputation flashes before your eyes, millions of instant likes that you usually get evaporate. Your verification and prestige will be worthless. Not to mention that Eren probably thinks you’re some perverted creep now. And Crystal would have a fucking field day branding you as a stalker for clout online. It’s over. Your life is over, isn’t it?

Your heart truly stops. “I know about your side blog, Y/N.” You’re genuinely concerned about dropping dead of a heart attack. Eren’s words go muffled even as he explains that he found it because you left your Tumblr up on a desktop around his studio after writing an article and he happened to glance at it before you could log off. What awful luck, you think. Truly, you’re angrier at yourself for not being more careful. His satisfied smirk is burned into your brain. Why shouldn’t he be satisfied? He caught you lacking and now you’re going to pay the price. “And I found your stan Twitter through it too.” Insult to injury, really.

The truth is all out in the open now though. Eren knows exactly what you think about him, what you write about him. He’s always known and never said anything, just looked you in the eye and lied to you for who knows how long. And when you reflect on the twenty-something fanfictions you’ve posted about him on Tumblr and AO3, you can’t be upset with him for growing to have distaste for you. Some of the kinks in those fics are too much. You get light-headed and almost let your knees buckle when your mind fills with the filthy words that he read about himself – all coming from your mind. “You read my...” But your words die on your tongue when you can’t even bring yourself to say it.

“Every time you post.” He doesn’t miss a beat, knowing the effect his words are having on your frail mind, knowing that your life is flashing before your eyes. You did notice a few weeks back that he’d get notifications form his phone around the times your scheduled posts would go out on your smut blog but never thought anything of it, writing off the fact that it was your fic going to his phone as something that was impossible.

Now you’re learning that it was entirely possible. The post from last night about how you got off on the idea of him writing music for you. You take a minute to soak in his confession, knowing that he’s won this argument, and your first instinct is to apologize and tell him that you’ll leave him alone – knowing how creepy your fanfic must be to him.

Eren lets you squirm, lets you cry a bit. You look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack, breathing uneven and erratic. He can tell that you’re really fucking humiliated and something in him likes that. Something in the way he sees you changes. You’re kind of cute; letting silent tears flow down your cheeks. He scrolled through your side blog for countless hours.

When you begin to struggle to get your breathing back under control, Eren lets himself visibly soften – intentions changing. He clears his throat. “You’re actually a good writer.” He provides a small compliment. It’s worth noting that your side blog is almost as popular as your main and his fans seem to love everything you write about him – even though it’s all smut. Who knew the meek little fangirl was actually a serious freak?

The panic attack bubbling up inside of you takes over and you begin bawling, shaking out of fear. “I’m so sorry, Eren!” Your tears streak across your cheeks. You don’t want him to send you away, unaware that he can’t actually do that. But you can’t really think of an excuse for being a fic writer to someone you know in real life. You know how it must look. Clearly, his compliment went in one in one ear and out the other since you don’t reference it – despite begging him for some kind of validation for months.

Eren does something that puts you in shock. He places his hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye, speaking softly as if he’s trying to take his words back after seeing the reaction, he achieved from you. He hushes you and tries to calm you down, never seeing you quake in fear like this and not liking it one bit – never been one to handle a crying girl. “Calm down, Y/N.” Eren exhales a deep breath and rolls his eyes at your hysterics.

To your credit, you manage to get your shit together on demand. The panic still buzzes unpleasantly just under the surface of your skin, and you can’t shake the feeling of dread. You hiccup, small sobs still passing between your lips. Eren’s large palms linger on your bare shoulders and the touch is as tender as you almost imagined it to be – as you wrote it to be. “I’m not upset with you.” He promises.

“You’re not?” You sniffle, voice croaking. Salty tears dry on your cheeks, and you find it in yourself to stare into the forest green eyes once again. Eren leans into you, testing your limits. Sure, you get on his nerves sometimes. It really pisses him off sometimes that someone like you can find it in yourself to accompany him throughout the journey of his career, but his girlfriend can’t. The devotion that fills your body when it comes to Eren doesn’t even come close to hers. Oftentimes he wonders if she’s just with him for status and the engagement ring he hasn’t found time to give her feels like it weighs a ton in his pocket right now.

In spite of the fact that he finds you annoying, he still thinks you’re a nice girl and your loyalty to him and his music is refreshing. Eren can respect that you haven’t really crossed any lines with him. You clearly channeled all of those feelings into fic, and he actually finds it... hot. Maybe he should go easier on you, he thinks. Maybe he should be kinder to someone that loves him as much as you do. “I’m not.” He confirms that he’s not feeling anger. Maybe he should give you what you want. Surely, you’ve earned it. “I actually... kind of like your fanfiction.” He speaks honestly.

Now you’re confused. That’s not even the word for it, really. There isn’t a word big enough to describe the distress you’ve gone through in the last few minutes. “W-what?” Eren doesn’t say anything else. He leans in and gives you a look, as if asking permission for something. In no universe would you ever refuse Eren’s request – even a silent one like this. You’re having a difficult time processing the new developments between the two of you. He’s really read all of your fics. He likes them. It’s unbelievable.

You nod your head and breathe in softly, giving into him. When he closes the gap between you with his lips, you have to fight the urge to pinch your arm to figure out if you’re having another one of those dreams again. He kisses you softly, hands leaving your shoulders and wandering down to your waist. And you let your instincts guide your actions. The two of you kiss softly for what feels like hours and you still let silent tears run from the corners of your eyes, keeping them hooded out of fear that he’ll disappear if you fully close them.

When he pulls away from you, Eren doesn’t say anything for a moment – seeming to gauge your reaction. He thumbs at the tears on your face, he smiles. “Why are you still crying, baby?” But you can’t bring yourself to part your lips. All you can do is stare at your idol in disbelief. Even though you work so closely with him, you would’ve never guessed that something like this would happen – not with his girlfriend around.

His girlfriend. Crystal. How could you forget about her and let Eren kiss you like that? Guilt fills you up and, even though you two hate each other, you’re not sure if you could be the type of girl that someone uses to cheat. Does Eren even like you? What a fucking stupid question. You know he doesn’t like you. Why would his feelings change all of a sudden? How does knowledge of your smut blog change things? Eren speaks faster than your thoughts move. “Why don’t you let me give you some new material to write about?” He whispers, hands never moving from your hips and pulling you closer to him. Eren smirks at your loss for words. Of course, you’re speechless but you don’t think you could sleep peacefully ever again if you passed up such an opportunity.

Eren’s asking if he fuck you. That’s the only thing you know to be true in this moment. You find it in yourself to nod your head to indicate your consent. He chuckles, leaning over you to flick up a light switch. It doesn’t illuminate the dim room you’re standing in, just turns on the do not disturb sign outside of his studio. He shuts and locks the door behind you.

Before you have a chance to register what’s happening, Crystal’s boyfriend is holding you close to him and kissing you with more hunger and passion than you’ve ever seen between the two of them. They kiss in front of you all the time by now that Eren’s hot lips are attached to your own, you don’t think they’ve ever shared a kiss beyond a peck in front of you. The idea thar Eren is kissing you with more passion than he does with his girlfriend turns you on more than anything in the world could.

Eren’s lips are softer than you dreamt they would be, softer than you wrote them as. Eren lets the kiss ease you into the experience. It’s not long before he pulls away from you and lets his filthy thoughts out into the world. “You gonna let me do what I want to you?” And you can acknowledge that he’s only asking you that because you’re such a big fan of his that you’re bound to say yes. He knows you too well; knows that you’d do anything to please him. Eren squeezes your hips, keeping your body close to him. You don’t have to say anything. Your idol knows the answer to the question already.

“And are you gonna keep it a secret? Not gonna post about it on your little blog?” That’s a harder promise to make but you agree. It’s not long before you feel Eren’s dick hardening against your thigh, as close as the two of you are to each other. He kisses you deeper; until you’re dying to breathe and, in spite of it all, you still can’t believe that this is happening. You thought that he had hate for you that would run too deep to touch you. More so, you always figured that his frivolous girlfriend was enough to satisfy him. Thank God you’re close enough to see the trouble in paradise for what it really is.

Eren backs up until he’s able to seat himself in the desk chair he’s always working in and pulls you along with him so that you’re carefully seated on his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his legs. You whine at the feeling of your spread legs against his clothed dick. His hands, sneaky sneaky hands, make their way from your waist up your body and pull your shirt up along with them, exposing your skin with every inch. Eren unclasps your bra like a pro, like he does it every day, and lets it fall to the ground. The simple action leaves you to wonder how often he and Crystal find themselves in this exact compromising position when you’re around. You figure that, if they fucked in his office, you would hear them, so you let go of thought go and focus on the moment. Your idol feasts his eyes on your tits when they’re finally exposed to his hungry gaze.

He seems to survey your expression, looking for any signs of unease, and when he finds that you’re only getting hotter and much more bothered with every passing second, Eren leans into your chest to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. His pleased hum vibrates along your sensitive skin when a resounding moan exits your mouth. You’re so easy to get riled up, really, aren’t you embarrassed? He wonders this as he watches you throw your head back, loving the feeling of his hot tongue lazily stroking your soft nipple.

Eren generously lets you rut against his clothed dick, liking the friction and loving the desperation in your whines. His jeans get tighter with every thrust, his cock gets harder with every moan. And soon enough you're both growing desperately. “Are you my biggest fan?” Eren asks, through moans and through mouthfuls of your sensitive flesh. He gropes you as if trying to commit every curve of your body to memory. He removes his mouth from your body and looks at you with all seriousness.

“Yes!” You cry, hips never slowing, movements never ceasing. You dry-hump Eren for as long as he allows you too – feeling the privilege of this action. You moan every word out and try to gulp, feeling a simple action like breathing becoming a chore; something you have to concentrate on.

Eren pulls you back, hands going back to your hips to control your actions. His eyes glaze over with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. And when he speaks up, the sternness of his words freezes you to your core. “Then get on your knees and fuckin’ prove it.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation. You’re careful when you climb out of his lap, still drunk from his kiss.

You ignore the ache when you get to your knees, fully submissive between Eren’s legs. Eren unbuckles his belt and allows his dick to spring free. He’s long but not lacking in girth, one prominent vein running along the length of the shaft and blushed at this tip – leaking precum already. A sense of accomplishment runs through your body like a shiver at the fact that you’ve already got Eren leaking.

He catches you staring and gives you a look as if to ask if you’re gonna suck it or just stare at it. Eternity feels like it passes, through your fingertips but soon enough, you find the nerve to allow your palms to make contact with Eren's dick, that doesn’t necessarily look like you pictured it to look. You sit up properly and hesitantly mouth at the crying tip, slit covered in salty fluid. It’s your first time giving anyone head and he can tell. You’re really no good and he’s not too shy to voice his dissatisfaction. “First time?” He asks, insulting you without even trying. “Thought you wanted to suck me off really bad, considering how much you write about it.” And he’s right. You do want to suck him off. Fuck, you really want to please him. It’s like second nature.

The corners of your lips sting as they stretch to accommodate his girth. Eren never wastes an opportunity to remind you that he knows all your secrets. You try to take him all in your mouth but cough a bit. He pulls you off his dick and makes you stop. “S’ okay. We’ll come back to that.” And he blames himself for not training you properly. Eren decides to focus on loosening you up so that you’ll be of some use to him.

Eren uses his large palm to pat a specific part of his work desk directly in front of him, signaling for you to take a seat on the exact spot. You obey, just as you would if he asked you to bend your body into a pretzel or something else just as impossible. “Show me what you do when you're thinking about me at home.” You look him in the eye, searching for some inconsistency. Eren is just as serious as he always is. Your legs spread on their own, minds of their own. You don’t bother pulling your panties off your body, settling of pulling them aside and exposing your glistening pussy to your idol.

He stares in disbelief, as if the idea of such a pretty pussy walking around him all day and him not knowing it is simply something that couldn’t be. Somehow, the experience of touching yourself in front of him isn’t embarrassing. You don’t get bashful easily – for some reason you’ll puzzle out later. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with Eren though, eyes settling comfortably on his palm that grips his still erect dick. Your fingers land on your own clit easily, not wasting time twirling it around and you find it in yourself to pleasure yourself quickly. You gasp. “Oh.” It’s shameless, really. So shameless the way you touch yourself fin front of Eren just because he demanded for you to do so but fuck if you care. It’s not long before you’re rubbing quick circles before his devious eyes.

You let your moans will the soundproof room, not caring how slutty you sound in the slightest. You waste no time moaning his name, loving the way it tastes in your mouth. Eren watches as you throw your head back and expertly rub your glistening pearl. “Look at me when you cum.” He demands, voice like velvet. He’s impossible to deny, sounding like that. You find it in yourself to look back at him and maintain eye contact.

He keeps his eyes on you, only growing achingly hard at the fact that you can take direction and obey him. That’s how you cum. You cum just as he ordered you to, playing your delicate clit and staring desperately into Eren’s eyes, as if you could cast a love spell on the singer with this method. “So fucking pretty.” Eren compliments you, giving you more of the praise that you craved from him for so long.

No longer thinking about self-control, the singer allows himself to scoot the desk chair closer to you and inch his face to your heated core. You task yourself with holding your soiled panties out to the way as Eren laps up the sticky mess on your core. Slurping sounds feel the sound-treated studio, music to both of your ears – he's tempted to put the symphony of pleasure in his neck album.

The desire to give you a well-deserved orgasm on his own overcomes Eren and he doesn’t stop himself from filling you with the six-inch long digits, finding your throbbing core instantly and earning a scream from the barrel of your throat. “You like that?” Eren asks as if your moans of pleasure aren’t answer enough. You grip the edge of the desk with one hand and let the other bury in his hair, feet planted securely on the wooden surface of the desk. This is better than any fanfiction you could possibly write. Saying that Eren lives up to expectations isn’t really fair because he makes it his mission to exceed them.

“Yes, Eren!” You cry, losing all resolve. He finger-fucks you until you’re hurdling straight into your next orgasm and flying to close to the sun. You cry out loud, sure that this room isn’t soundproof enough to hide that sounds of ecstasy he coaxes out of your parted lips. You want to assure him even more, assure him that he’s as good as he thinks he is. Nothing would make you feel better than to be able to inflate Eren’s ego.

“Say it then.” He demands, wanting more from you. Eren curls his fingers up, seeming to know exactly where your softest spots are within and taking advantage of the knowledge. Assuming that he has an ego to feed was a good instinct on your part. “Wanna hear in your fucked-out voice, baby girl.” For a moment, you fool yourself into thinking that Eren actually cares about your pleasure. You cry out, telling him whatever he wants to hear and using your hands to keep you secure on the table and begin to thrust your hips up to fuck yourself on his fingers.

No amount of degrading words flowing through Eren’s lips can mar this moment. You’ve written about doing these very things with him. You’ve dreamed about them and now it’s finally happening. You’ll cum for him as many times as he wants you to, no questions asked. “This is really all you needed, huh?” He chuckles. “Just needed to someone to slut you out really good.” You’re still thrusting your hips to meet his fingers and when you cum again, you squirt enough to leave yourself sitting in a puddle on the hardwood of his work desk. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by this though, almost proud that you can produce so much for him, proud of your copious amounts of arousal. “Look at the mess you made on my work desk, Y/N.” Eren teases, feigning annoyance and loving the borderline humiliated look that crosses your expression.

Still, you keep your legs spread and your leaking pussy exposed before his eyes until he tells you otherwise. You pant, tired from the concentration that had to go into focusing on yet another orgasm. Anything for your idol though. He scoots back a bit to take in the view, you all spread out and fully obedient for him – more devoted to pleasing him than anyone he’s ever met in his life. If he wasn’t so hard in his pants right now, he’d be terrified of you. “Can’t very well explain that to the cleaning crew, can I?” He pulls you up by your wrist to stand with your wobbly legs.

He doesn’t waste time asking if you’re into what he’s got planned. Eren just fists his hands in your hair and pulls your head back, fighting the urge to bite into the inviting flesh of your neck. You shiver at the warm breath on your skin. “Lick it up.” Eren’s words are cold. His demand is harsh. You let him manhandle you into bending over the wood of the desk until you’re eye level with your mess.

A deranged part of you wants to ask him if he’s serious but the more dominant part of you jumps to obey him, pushes that weaker side down and ignores it, neglects it until it finally dies. Your tongue graciously laves over the hard wooden surface of the desk that Eren works at every day, creating songs that reach the deepest parts of your soul. He stands behind you, eyes glued to you like a warden, staring in disbelief as you lap up every bit of your own juices. He can’t believe you really listened to him without a single word of question. Really, he’s wondering how he allowed himself to look over you all this time. You’re such a fun little toy.

Your phone chimes, interrupting your ministrations as you lap up every drop until a sticky layer of cum-coated saliva films wooden surface. The both of you unanimously decide to ignore the notification as he pulls you back up for another sloppy kiss. Perverted bastard. You love it. Eren lets his tongue overlay yours, tasting your own cum in your mouth and getting hard at the humiliation he’s putting you through – knowing that you like it.

He’s clearly pleased with the way you allow yourself to bend at his will, to be used by him and played with like a little sex doll. Crystal would never allow herself to be treated this way, but your clit is already throbbing at the idea of him degrading you further. He loves that you allow yourself to come out of your shell and watches closely as you kick your bottoms off from around your legs; fully exposing your body for him to rake his eyes over.

Without awaiting another order from the singer, you rest your elbows on the moist tabletop in front of you and bend over it to put your pretty pussy on display. Eren makes a pleased sound and fully removes his pants, matching you. He pulls his dick out and lines it up with your waiting cunt. Just before he grazes your slick entrance with his throbbing tip, your phone lets out another annoying notification. This time he spares it a glance but doesn’t let it break his concentration. It’s annoying him but not enough to take him away from you.

Your pussy sucks him in like a vortex. He inches himself into you slowly at first, worried that he might bust instantly at the feeling of you pulsing around him. And he tries to fuck you with his whole dick just as slowly, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him for the first time, but he can’t control himself. You can’t believe that this is happening. Your idol is bottoming out inside of you, fucking you with a growing urgency and beginning to moan as well.

He moans out loud about how good you feel, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering if you feel better than Crystal. You want to feel bad about wondering if you’re a better fuck that his serious girlfriend, but you can’t, although you don’t beg the question out loud. “You’re amazing.” You use your mouth for something other than moaning for once and give him some much-desired praise.

“That’s gospel, baby.” He kisses the back of your head, fucking you at the pace of a wild animal soon after. He feels so good inside of you, living up to the fantasy of him that lingered in your head and on your Tumblr. You wish for a moment that you could tell your followers just how good Eren fucks. He grips your hips, slamming himself into you and letting the sound of your moans fill his ears; accompanied by the sound of flesh smack against flesh. Sweat gathers on his hairline from exertion and, while he won’t dare say it, you’re so much better than his girlfriend that he can’t stand it. He wishes you were her.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked filthy by your favorite celebrity. Dreams really do come true.” He degrades you and groans as your walls seize around him due to the harsh words. The edge of the desk creates a painful crease in your skin as push yourself further into it and you just know that if he could see it from his angle, Eren would fill you up at the knowledge that he was fucking you full of pleasure and pain. The pain you’re receiving pushes you into your next orgasm, dry but no less satisfying.

“God, fuck, Eren!” You cry out, cum spurting out of you in all directions to leave yet another mess for you to mop up with your tongue. Eren’s ego needs to see the face he’s causing you to create, expression all scrunched up in pleasure. He’s not gentle when he pulls you off the desk and turns you to press your back into the hard wood - sure that the new position is uncomfortable and distracting you from that by pushing his dick right back into you until the hilt. You cry out at the delicious burn of him stretching you out once again. The new position affords Eren the ability to reach deeper parts inside of you, cock travel all the way up the temple of your cunt until it kisses your uterus in the most deliciously painful way possible.

Your hands unconsciously shoot up to run your nails along the tender flesh of Eren’s back, only for him to yank your hands back down and pin them above your head. “Sorry, baby. Can’t have you scratching my back up for her to see.” Something about him mentioning her pisses you off but you bite your tongue in favor of moaning as you take more of his harsh thrusts. He skips the gentleness and fucks you hard, gaping you on his long girth.

While gazing down at your pretty face, Eren’s eyeline focuses on your puckered mouth – circled to let out your slutty little moans one-by-one. “Open your mouth wider.” He demands, without even thinking about it. “Now.” And never needing to be told twice, you obey, stretching your lips to follow orders. He doesn’t slow his tempo; hips snapping to nail the softest part of your pussy and elicit moans from you all the same. He really takes you by surprise when he leans over your mouth and spits thickly into your waiting mouth.

He doesn’t have to deliver an order after his spit hits your tongue. You take a moment to savor Eren’s taste before swallowing it all down, assuring him that his saliva is on its way to rest in the pit of your stomach; successfully marking you. It’s not enough though. You can’t consider yourself fully marked by your idol until you have him filling all your holes – not just your mouth. “Eren...” You moan, dutifully taking each stroke he serves you. He feels so good against your constricting walls, shoving in and barely having enough self-control to pull out so he can fuck you properly. “Cum inside me, p-please!”

You know it’s so toxic of you to ask. You know this. The last thing you’d want Eren to think is that you’re trying to baby-trap him by practically begging him to fill you up when you’re both already so close to cumming. You hope he won’t lose any of the meager respect he has for you when you beg the question, his fists grip your wrists harder. “I already did.” He grunts, giving you a moment to feel his warmth pooling inside of your tightening cunt.

You gasp at the otherworldly feeling, feeling so full. You feel so unbelievably full of him, and you gasp at the sensation. You’re at a loss for words, can’t believe he just bred you like that. Your bodies stick together as he fucks you through your orgasm, hand wiggling between your sweat-slick bodies to stroke circles around your clit. You gasp, yet another rush of feelings causing your body to quake and the overwhelming sentiment of being bred by the man you worship enough to push you over the edge and squirt in such copious amounts that the small tuft of hair nestled at the base of Eren’s cock turns a darker shade of brown when your juices are soaking him there. "Aw, you should see how cute your face looks like this. Cumming your nonexistent brains out like this." His words go right over your head, unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t have to do with the breathtaking orgasm he’s gifted you.

The two of you take a moment to breathe. His eyes rake over your exhausted body, admiring his handiwork and watching as his cum dribbles out of you in small spurts of milky white. He’s about to compliment the way you took him, better than anyone ever has, when your phone goes off once more – sounding as if someone is trying urgently to reach you. Could it be another guy? He would’ve never assumed that you were both taken cheaters. Call him a hypocrite but the idea of you being taken by some other guy, despite the dedication you give him, really pisses him off.

You’re falling in and out of consciousness, still too sensitive to notice him grabbing your phone from the pocket of your discarded clothing. He opens it, finding that you don’t lock your phone. The notification screen is full of alerts from Instagram, showing that Crystal has been posting for the last few hours while he’s had you locked in his studio and fucking your brains out. He should’ve known it wasn’t a boyfriend. Who would date a fan girl like you? “You follow her?” Eren laughs when your phone lights up with the notification that she’s posting on IG. “I don’t even follow her.”

The look on your face suggests embarrassment but he’s sure that you just try to keep up the frenemies appearance with Crystal and that’s why you stay updated on her social media. You sit up to see what he’s seeing. Her feed is displaying photos of her at a bar or something, taking shots, smiling, and cuddling up with some other influencers. He scrolls along, irritated with her. Before he has the chance to shove your phone back at you, another pops up right before his eyes.

Crystal’s eyes aren’t on the person taking the photo, just locked in on a guy, making intense eye contact. He’s got her arms around her waist and he’s clearly flirting with her and she’s not rejecting him. And Eren knows those eyes. She flashes them at him when she’s in heat all the time. What really pisses him off is that he’s asked her hundreds of times to stop hanging out with that guy because he’s clearly just trying to fuck her. Now look at her. She bails out on a night with him to be with him? Suddenly, any guilt he could’ve had about cheating on his girlfriend with you evaporates and is replaced by the overwhelming need to make a point.

The look in Eren’s eyes significantly darkens and maybe a gaze like that would scare a normal woman but it only coaxes out another burst of arousal. He grips your wrists and pulls you close to him, completely overtaking your mouth with his own. The kiss is infused with his anger. It’s furious and you don’t need to know why. All he manages to do is turn you on. Your knees feel weak as you moan into the kiss. He doesn’t show you any mercy, not giving you a moment to breathe until he’s satisfied that he’s taken his frustration out on you. The singer grips your hair, pulling harshly. He grits his teeth when he speaks again. “On your knees again.”

For a moment, you worry that you did something to piss him off but let that thought go. You’ve been perfectly obedient and only done what you were told. You whimper a bit as Eren stares down at you, kneeling before him. If he asked you to pray only to him, you would do so. His dick hardens again, so easily. “Kiss.” He growls, eyes full of rage and hints of lust for you.

Your lips pucker and smear with precum when you observe his orders. You lick all that your small tongue can reach and swallow the piquant substance down. You’re still no good at giving him head but your burning desire to please him makes up for any lack of skill. Eren focuses on his orgasm but doesn’t let himself lose sight of what he’s planning. Eren pushes himself into your mouth, hot tip brushing your cheeks.

Your idol holds your phone up, turning on the flash and nearly blinding you. He begins recording himself as he rocks his hips into your dedicated mouth, letting himself moan as loud as he wants. “Y/N.” Your sore pussy clenches as he says your name. And just before Eren cums, he says the two words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. “T-thank you, Y/N.” Tears well up in your eyes, proud that you’ve finally been able to do a job for Eren that wasn’t completely thankless. He pulls out of your mouth and strokes himself over your face until he’s shooting warm ropes to paint your features.

“Stick your tongue out.” He gasps, being careful to capture everything happening on camera. He jerks himself off through his orgasm and takes great pleasure in staining your pretty face with his seed. “Never waste a drop of my cum. It’s more precious than gold.” When he runs dry, Eren turns the camera off and opens your inbox.

He tosses you his discarded shirt to clean your face of his juices. “M’ gonna send this to her.” He announces before he just sends it off. You want to question his intentions. Sure, you feel bad for letting him use you to cheat but you assumed that the two of you would just fuck and hide it from her. The idea of sneaking around turns you on a lot. But the idea of being exposed, the fear in being immortalized as a dirty slut isn’t unpleasant. The hesitation within you subsides. You nod and signal for him to send the video to the bitch, the image of her shocked face when she opens the video to see her boyfriend giving you cumshots enough to arouse you all over again.

You seat yourself in his lap, both of you sticking together thanks to being covered in a layer of sex. “Won’t she break up with you?” You don’t mean to sound so clueless but you’re not sure where the sudden spite for his girlfriend came from and you're not sure what good can come from this. Eren seems to have made up his mind though. He presses the send button and waits for her response.

The worried look in your eyes is the only thing that softens him. He looks at you, assures you that you have nothing to worry about. He’s pissed at her for disrespecting him. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, Eren just knows that she’s probably on her knees for the other guy at this very moment. No, he doesn’t feel like he’s out of line. He gives you his eyes and plants a chaste kiss on your cheek. “This is me breaking up with her, baby.”

And Eren can’t help but wonder how he never noticed how perfect you were and commits himself to treating you better, the way that you deserve. Both of your phones begin to let off alerts soon enough, likely a response to the sex tape that you just leaked of yourselves. “Hope you got plenty of more material for that blog of your because I’m expecting a post tonight.”

Nanami Kento

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: quiet nerd!pleasure dom!choso, heavy praise/light degradation, dacryphilia, choso has a size kink, choso’s pov, oral (giving and receiving), knife play/no blood, light pain kink, pussy drunk/obsessed choso, squirting, fingering, light begging, light choking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))

‘He is wearing those sweat pants, I keep sneaking glances at his cock, I wanna see it. No need to see it, I'm dying of thirst! He can feed me his cum! I don't really care much for giving blow jobs but something about Choso makes me wanna gobble his cock till he is a whiny mess.’

‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’

‘I cant help it! Have you seen Choso?! I want to hear how he sounds when he cums.’

‘Aren’t yall supposed to study for friday’s exam you can’t fail this one!’

Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’

Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.

Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.

You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.

Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.

Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.

“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.

His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.

Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.

“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.

Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.

Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.

Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.

Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”

Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.

Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.

He needs to make you cum.

Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.

Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.

Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.

“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.

Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”

His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.

Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.

Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.

Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.

Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.

Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.

Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.

“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.

Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.

Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.

Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”

Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.

“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.

Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.

Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.

Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

i hate the fact that this exists but here we are. there’s more where this came from and if this goes over well, maybe i’ll do more and add the tag list next time to give all my tag gremlins direct delivery of the 🤡 you’re about to read.

thx for the brainrot encouragement @i-literally-cant-with-this @sluttyshigaraki @dcsiremc. 🙄

tw: daddy!bkg, f!reader, piss play, daddy kink, aged up characters, overuse of titles & pet names, pet names: princess, baby, babygirl, angel, pretty girl, little girl

you’re coping an attitude.

katsuki says, “you’re such a pissy little girl today.”

it makes you blush, and of course he notices. katsuki grins a little as he traps you against the counter with his towering frame. he leans down to kiss your neck. “is that what you need, princess? want me to make you feel special?”

your cheeks redden. “no. can you stop? i’m about to make your dinner, asshole.”

his hands are under your shirt (his shirt), groping your bare tits. “fuck dinner, it can wait. i know what you need.”

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

you end up on your knees, naked in front of him. every inch of you feels hot and embarrassed.

katsuki unzips his pants and frees his soft cock. “sit still, babygirl.”

you close your eyes just before a warm stream hits your face and it makes you whimper, heat rushing to your cunt as his piss runs down your face, your body, and onto the floor. it’s a lot; katsuki drinks a ton of water even on his days off, and you hate how wet your pussy is getting as the stream doesn’t stop. when he’s finally done, he pulls your head back by the hair and forces you to look at him. his crimson gaze is slightly mischievous and affectionate. katsuki grins when he sees your eyes all hazy with need. his cock comes to life in his hand as he strokes it.

katsuki slaps you face with his half hard dick. “look at you, daddy’s pissy little baby. you look so pretty, angel.”

“thank you, daddy,” you reply, a shiver running down your neck.

“you want daddy’s cock, baby?” he says

you nod eagerly. your cunt throbs looking up at him.

“that’s my girl. open up that pretty little mouth, princess.”

mirror sex with nanami, kitchen sex with nanami, bathroom sex with nanami, car sex with nanami, hotel sex with nanami, hot tub sex with nanami, sex in the office with nanami, sex on a boat with nanami

missionary on the bed with nanami, bent over the kitchen counter in doggy with nanami, on top of the couch riding nanami, under the table blowing nanami, 69-ing sideways with nanami

sitting on nanami's face, getting fucked by nanami's fingers, vibrator against your clit in nanami's grip, getting your clit licked by nanami's tongue, wrapping your legs around nanami's waist, getting impaled by nanami's cock

friends with benefits sukuna who questions your relationship as he helps you move in your mattress into your new apartment. especially as he fucks you on it (no headboard or anything) in front of the massive windows as the sunlight pools in. maybe he should ask you out, officially, because he’s never done something like this for any of his other flings

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs. 

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!” 

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—” 

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks. 

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ” 

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles. 

That’s good enough for her.

· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

Sandstorms

Pairing(s): Cyno, Tighnari, and Candace x afab!reader 

Warnings: breeding, pet names, fingering, oral, usage of the term “mommy”, biting, dumb-fucked, cuddles, whimpering. 

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple commission for easy Mora. You were coming back from taking photos and gathering relics for the person who commissioned you. (Supposedly they were busy with something else). A sandstorm abruptly swept through forcing you to take shelter. However your savior(s) have come to help.

A/N: describing things is a thing i'm working on and hv no clue how. I imagine it…wait..i can just dra–! 

I can’t write for men…Apologies. I’m a woman enthusiast but won’t mind writing for men. 

MDNI 

words: 2k

Cyno: 

Cyno happened to run into you just before the sandstorm hit. He led you to a cave nearby and said that it was best to stay in until after the sandstorm passes. 

Both of you started chatting about many things. You asked about how he like being mahamatra and he asked you about you life as an adventurer. 

Somehow the conversation ended up about relationships and how you weren't really looking for someone who couldn’t keep the same pace as you. 

He could relate. You admitted that you had a crush on him back when you were both students at the Akademiya.

From there everything is a blur…

“Cy..-Cyno-“ you moaned. His cock buried deep into you as you clawed the floor.  The heat from his body was warming you up more than the campfire. He had a grip on your thighs and refused to let go. 

He kept thrusting in and out. He kept hitting that perfect spot making you see stars and arching your back. The sandstorm didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. 

His grunts and the sound of skin slapping was echoing through the cave. You were close to coming again and he might be as well, due to the now slow and hard thrust he’s doing. He pulled out making you whine and flipped you over on your belly. 

He quickly lifted your hips higher and closer to him, making to face the cold ground. You turned your head to look at him but he pushed your head back to the ground. 

“What the He— nghh- ahh..” He entered his cock back into you. 

Everytime he thrusted you can feel him gently hitting your cervix with how deep he’s penetrating you. 

“I-…I’m c-..coming Cyno..” 

“Go ahead baby..” He was grunting and his breaths were heavier. 

Fuck. You could feel every part of his cock with how tight you were. You came all over his cock as his cum filled you up. He kept it in order to prevent any of his cum from spilling out. Oh dear Archons he wanted you knocked up. 

“Good girl~ taking it all in” Your pussy tightened around him even more hearing those words. Your were tired and sweaty from the heat. It took him a while to pull out because of how tight you were holding onto him. He then made sure to clean you up and let you sleep after that. 

You should bring him with you more often.

Tighnari: 

Tighnari insisted on coming with you and reluctantly you said yes. Now both you were stuck in a cave waiting out this sandstorm. 

“It’s going to be awhile until the storm passes.” Tighnari said as he added more sticks into the fire. 

“Ah. Damn, at least the photos are safe.” You said checking the photos to see if they were actually safe.

“Hey ‘Nari I’m gonna take a nap.” He nodded and you laid down and decided to take a nap. 

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep but you woke up to a whine and grunts. 

“Tighnari?” you called out for him. The fire was slowly dying out but still provided enough light to see his outline. 

You kneeled beside him and carefully turned him over to see him. His ears were flat down and you could tell he was breathing heavily. 

He curled himself into a ball and whimper. 

“Tighnari? Are you ok?” You asked, worried about his health.

“It’s just a lit–little fever…no worries..” He said trying to maintain his composure, but clearly that wasn’t working. You didn’t believe that it was a fever. 

You placed a hand over his forehead to check for his temperature and instead of a kind response from him, he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down. (dear lord). 

“Please…” He practically moaned. The archons were testing your self-control cause you were about to ravage this man the moment he said please. 

This fine ass man was dry humping your thigh looking for some friction as you laid on the ground dazed. You quickly snapped out of it and you pressed your thigh closer to him. 

“What a pretty sight to see.” You could tell he was getting close to his high by the way he was moving slower but humping harder, but you wanted to have a little more fun with him.

You removed your thigh and stripped your pants and underwear off. You made sure you placed it under you. He understood what you were doing, slightly annoyed at you for stopping but he followed as well. 

You laid him down and positioned yourself on top of him. You started off slow, coating his dick with your own cum. You were going painfully slow, watching him writhe around and while like a cute little dog, it got you excited.

 He was getting annoyed with your antics and forcefully grabbed your hips to lift you up and slam you down straight into him. You moaning loudly at the sudden feeling of being penetrated, but how he filled you up. 

Every thrust made you see stars as strings of moans left your mouth. Your hips started moving on their own, at this rate you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“I-I’m close” Tighnari grunted out. He clawed into your thighs leaving you crescent shaped moons which made you wince. 

A few more thrust and you came all over him. It wasn’t long until he came inside as well. His cum felt warm and you could feel it dripping down your thighs as you got off him and collapsed next to him. 

He pulled you closer to him and hugged you. 

All you could hear was a thank you and love you as you cuddled him for the remainder of the sandstorm. 

Candace:

It’s been a couple of hours since this sandstorm started and you took shelter in a nearby cave that had some abandoned stuff. 

You rummaged through the things to see what you could find, not much but there was a couple of books, food, and sticks. You noticed a broken cup and decided to move it out the way. As you picked up the shards and placed them in a box, a small shard cut your hand.

“Fuck! Ow…whatever..” 

You weren't far from Aaru village, but this sandstorm would sweep you away if you tried. 

“Y/N?” You heard someone call your name from the entrance of the cave. You turned your head towards the person calling your name and found Candace standing there. 

“Candace? What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Looking for you of course..I got worried when you didn’t come back and assumed you got stuck in the storm.” She said, as she walked over to where you set up a little fire and sat down next to you. 

“How…? How did you get through the sandstorm???” You were hella confused on how this woman managed to find you in this crazy ass sandstorm.

“My shield helped and I know my way through the desert.” She smiled and looked down at your hand. 

“Your hand is bleeding.” She took your hand and noticed some gauze in one of the boxes near you and took it. 

“Oh. I accidentally picked up a broken vase and cut myself.. No big deal.”

“Y/N! You could’ve gotten an infection. I don’t like when you get hurt, you know this.” Candace spoke with a gentle soft voice that made your heart flutter. You chuckled and looked away embarrassed. 

“Yeah I know…sorry Candace…It won’t happen again” You felt her finish wrapping your hand. You were going to check out your hand to see the job well done, but she grabbed your chin and made you look at her. She stared at you intently, looking at every feature you had. 

“C-Candace??!” You stuttered out. It took you by surprise and your heart rate increased. 

“Making sure your pretty face isn’t injured.” You were now staring at her with a flustered face. 

Your eyes trailed down from her gorgeous heterochromic eyes down to her lips. It seemed like she caught on at where you were looking at because the next thing she did was lean into you barely brushing her lips onto yours. Her hands cupping the back of your neck and finally kissing you. 

The next couple things were a blur as clothes went flying and her mouth latched onto your neck. 

“Nghh—- wa-wait!” She pushed you back flat to the ground. 

“So wet already? Just for me?” You could feel her breath close, you threw your head back and covered your eyes in embarrassment. 

She noticed this and grabbed your arms and placed them near your side holding them there. You could see her look up at you from her position, her eyes were filled with lust and admiration. 

She gave a quick kiss on your thigh before diving into your soaking cunt. 

“Such a good girl for me. What a divine taste.” She ate you out like it was her last meal. Her hot tongue played with your clit, gently sucking and biting it as you bucked your hips into her face and hands tangling into her hair. 

For each passing minute, your orgasm was nearing. Her tongue was doing some damage but not enough for you to reach your high.  

“Please— i need moreee” Your voice came out as a whine. Eyes were glossy and drool was dripping down your mouth. 

“Mmm what the magic word darling?” She asked with a sly smirk plastered on her lips. Her fingers teased your entrance and you moaned out. 

“Ngh-ah– M-mommy…pleaseee~” Now your face is completely red. It didn’t even register in your head what you said until it came out. You didn’t care, all you wanted was to cum all over her fingers. 

Her 2 fingers slipped into you easily and started pumping in and out, hitting that sweet spot. Moans and screams of her names left your mouths like a prayer on repeat. 

She added a 3rd finger and pumping harder but slower, making you go stupid. 

“My good slut~ taking it all in easily~” She said in such an angelic voice. She left marks all over your inner thigh. Pretty purple colored your thighs now. 

“‘ s’good…mommyyy!” Praises flowed out of her mouth which made you even more wet than before. 

All you could hear was the sinful sounds coming from your cunt. Her mouth latched back onto your clit, providing more stimulation. Your brain turned to mush and it was no longer moaning of her name but just babble. 

“A-aahh... Ahn... Candace—!!!”  Her fingers kept moving and her mouth sucked. Not a single moment did she stop. 

“O-oh…AHH- COMING!!” Suddenly the knot burst, coming all over her face. You were near passing out but still felt her fingers leave and her tongue licking up all your cum. 

Your vision was blurring and your body felt like jelly. She sat on your lap and sucked on your neck leaving marks. This women had a mission to mark you. 

“That was a nice appetizer, but I'm ready for the main course~” She said, licking her fingers while smirking. 

Archons bless you because you won’t be able to walk, but it will be all worth it.