great-like-gatsby

[great-like-gatsby]

Hey there! I love your writing so far! I was wondering if you would write a little something about Data and his partner choosing pet names for each other? I think it could be cute :)

Hello, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing!

This is such a cute idea, and thank you so much for bestowing the honor upon me to write this lovely request!

I had a lot of different ideas for this, and couldn't settle on just one, so I decided to write this in the style of those "5+1" fics. I tried to choose older/more outlandish terms of endearment, in order to avoid potentially discarding a name that someone would actually want to be referred to by. Hopefully, I was successful in this endeavor (but my sincere apologies if not)!

The final nicknames I chose were based on Data's characterization, and what names I think would be most appropriate and fitting for him and his vocabulary. I'm not sure if anyone else will agree with these choices, but I hope they're still enjoyable.

Anyways, without further ado, here's the final piece! I'm so sorry for the wait, but I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 😊

5 Times Data and His Partner Tried Out Pet Names (and the 1 Time They Stuck):

Although Data didn't quite understand the necessity for having a pet name for his partner, he did understand the appeal. It was another form of affection that couples demonstrated with one another; something special shared between both parties.

Frankly, Data hadn't even considered having a designated term of endearment for you. At least, not until Geordi and himself had discussed the subject after witnessing a couple in Ten Forward one evening using their chosen pet names.

"Why did Lieutenant Smith refer to his spouse as an overly saccharine pastry comprised of honey?" Data asked, bewildered at the exchange he just observed between the aforementioned crewmembers.

Geordi chuckled, "He didn't mean it literally, Data. He meant it as a pet name."

Data still looked at his friend quizzically, "'Pet name'?"

"Yeah, a term of endearment."

Finally, he understood, "Ahh."

"Don't you and your partner have pet names for one another?"

Data shook his head, "No, we do not."

Geordi raised his eyebrows above his VISOR, "Really?"

"Indeed...I did not realize this was a necessary aspect to couplehood."

"Well, it's not exactly 'necessary', but it is a fairly common thing between couples."

"Hm, I see..."

Later that night, while Data was running an internal diagnostic, analyzing the information he had collected during his Away Mission earlier that day, and reviewing the remainder of the day's events, he considered the conversation he had with Geordi. Should he have a pet name for you? If so, which one should he choose?

After some internal analysis, Data decided that yes, he did want to designate a term of endearment for you. He figured the best way to go about choosing a name would be to use a trial-and-error method of research:

First, he would conduct personal research about pet names. He would pay special attention to their connotations and popularity. Next, he'd construct a behavioral profile for you that he would then use to determine which pet names you would most likely appreciate. He would then test the chosen names by using them to refer to you. Additionally, he'd observe your reactions to each name, and internally record his observations. Finally, he'd compile all his collected data and analyze them to determine which term of endearment you appeared to enjoy the most.

The endeavor would prove to be more difficult than he anticipated.

1. Honeybun or Honeybunch

Since Lieutenant Smith and his spouse had initiated this experiment, Data felt it was only appropriate to test out their preferred pet name first. He tested it out a few days after he witnessed their interaction, one night while the two of you were snuggled up on his couch with Spot.

Data was sitting near one end of the couch, his body oriented straight ahead and away from you. You sat at the other end of the couch, facing Data. Your legs were stretched out across his lap, and one of his hands was draped along the arm of the couch. His other hand was affectionately rubbing your knee. Spot was curled up in your lap, purring loudly as you intermittently stroked her back while you spoke.

You were currently summarizing your day's events for Data, and he listened intently. His gaze was soft and adoring, and he was meticulously making internal notes about the way you gestured certain aspects for emphasis, how your chest shook when you laughed, and the way your lips curved upwards just a little higher when you returned his eye contact. Absentmindedly, he marveled at how beautiful humans and their behaviors were, and he wondered if he could ever come close to emanating that beauty himself.

After you completed your tale, you relaxed back into your corner of the couch, ready to answer the anticipated onslaught of questions from him. Once his queries were satisfactorily answered, it grew silent between the two of you, but comfortably so.

At this point, you were relaxed, and starting to succumb to the call of sleep. As your eyes started to droop, Data spoke softly, "Shall we 'hit the hay', Honeybun?"

Your eyes shot open. Now, you were wide awake, "What?"

"Your respiratory and heart rates have decreased by 3.7% in the last 4 minutes and 51 seconds, and you have been closing your eyes for intervals longer than necessary for blinking. You are demonstrating the initial stages of human sleep," he looked at you sweetly, "I believe it would be best if we went to bed now...Honeybun. You are welcome to spend the night in Spot and I's quarters."

You stared at him curiously for a moment, before you laughed, "Okay, honeybunch; let's go to bed."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at your unexpected reciprocation of the pet name.

You carefully picked up Spot from your lap before slowly getting up. You and Spot made your way to Data's bedroom, but said android was still on the couch, processing your previous interaction.

Based on your expression and reactions, Data deduced that you did not particularly enjoy that nickname. However, did he enjoy being called a 'honeybunch'?

"You coming, honeybunch?" you called from his bedroom.

Again, Data reviewed the name, considering his perceptions towards it, before he grimaced slightly.

2. Snookums

The next time he tested a term of endearment on you was over a week later, during a double date between the two of you and the O'Briens in Ten Forward.

You and Data had arrived first, and were chatting idly as you waited for your friends to join you. Once Keiko and Miles arrived, you all greeted each other, and caught up briefly before Data got up to get everyone some drinks.

"I'll just have a plain ol' Irish ale," Miles said.

"Some tea would be lovely," Keiko added.

Data turned to you, "And what would you like, Snookums?"

Miles chortled softly, and Keiko lightly kicked him under the table, but she was holding back a smile herself.

Data, who was too focused on you and your reaction, thankfully didn't notice the O'Brien's' interaction. He studied you carefully, patiently awaiting your response.

You blinked, still processing the nickname, "Uhh just some water, please."

He nodded once, "I shall return in a moment with our beverages."

Miles watched Data walk away, waiting until he was out of earshot. Once satisfied with the distance between the three of you & Data, Miles then turned to you with a smirk, "'Snookums'?"

You raised your eyebrows and shrugged, "I have no clue where that came from...last week, he called me 'Honeybun'."

Again, Miles snorted.

"Miles!" Keiko scolded, "Don't be rude!"

He held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not! They're just...interesting choices for nicknames."

"I suspect he's up to something," you theorized, "This is probably related to some personal research he's conducting, or something. In any case, I'm sure it's just a phase," you hadn't been too concerned about this seemingly random development in his behavior, but you were curious as to its purpose. It was still a fairly recent alteration, so you figured you'd let him have his fun a bit more before you confronted him about it.

"Maybe he's trying to be more romantic," Keiko offered, "in his own way."

You pondered the thought, as you watched Data gather your drinks. He certainly was romantic, in his own way. You both had lunch together almost every day, something that he had insisted on. After he discovered the ancient invention of "Post-It Notes", he made it a habit to leave you handwritten notes with them throughout your office. Their contents varied, from jokes pertaining to your area of expertise to quotes from his favorite works of literature that reminded him of you. He even enjoyed reading some of his favorite novels and plays to you. These actions may not have been the kind of whirlwind, passionate gestures that most people equated to romance, but you knew they were his way of showing his fondness for you, and you loved them (and him) dearly.

You continued to watch him as he carefully placed everyone's requested drinks on a small tray that Guinan provided. You noticed how he was slightly more careful when placing your drink on the tray, and how he placed it in front of the others. You knew his actions were deliberate and calculated, but it still brought a soft smile to your lips.

"Maybe," you finally conceded.

"And maybe you should take some notes, Miles," Keiko teased her husband.

Miles sighed, "Oh, Hell..."

3. Sweet Cheeks

"Thank you for bringing me lunch, Data," you told him, sitting down in the chair he had pulled out for you. When you had contacted him earlier to let him know that you were going to work late and wouldn't have time to grab lunch with him, he decided to bring lunch to you, in your office. Data had also taken the time to replicate some flowers in a vase and cleared your desk of all clutter, so you could have a proper table setting for your meal.

"You are welcome," he said, as he gently pushed your chair back in.

Your shared meal was relaxed and calm, but the atmosphere changed when Data suddenly dropped his latest pet name for you into the conversation, "I believe your proposed solution to your current work predicament is acceptable, and will prove to be successful, Sweet Cheeks."

You then did what Data recognized from 20th century humor to be a classic 'spit take'. He was surprised, yet somewhat delighted by this, as he had never witnessed someone perform a spit take before. He considered inquiring about it, but decided against it.

You stared at him in astonishment, blushing wildly as you coughed, "I beg your pardon??"

Your reaction was quite unexpected, and Data scrunched his eyebrows in soft confusion as he attempted to ascertain the somewhat scandalized tone of your voice, "Did I say something wrong?"

Before speaking, you cleared your throat, and waited for the shock to subside, "No, Data, you didn't say anything wrong, per say...It's just that 'Sweet Cheeks' is a very old and sometimes offensive term, depending on the context, used to describe someone with a nice ass."

Data looked at you with surprise, and perhaps embarrassment. How had he missed that pertinent fact during his research? "I see...I apologize for offending you; that certainly was not my intent," he considered this new development briefly, before tilting his head softly and returning his gaze to you, "Based on this information, that term would also be inaccurate in describing yourself because you do not have a donkey."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, "Sorry, not that kind of ass, Data. I meant it refers to someone who has an attractive butt."

Realization dawned on him, "Ahh," he raised an eyebrow, "Although it would be accurate to describe your posterior as 'attractive', I would not wish to use an offensive term to convey that fact."

"Data!" you said, astonished and blushing once again.

Data was hopelessly confused anew, "Have I offended you again?"

"No, no, it's just..." you sighed, still flustered. "Nevermind..." you carefully stood up, "I have to get back to work, so I'll catch you later," you tidied up the remnants of your lunch, pressed a quick peck to his lips, and somewhat hurriedly left your office.

4. Dumpling

"Alright, Lieutenant," Dr. Crusher said as she completed healing the large gash that ran along your forearm, "I think that just about does it. Can you wiggle your wrist for me, like this?" you watched as she moved her wrist, and you replicated her movements. Although you were able to repeat her actions, you felt a small pinch somewhere in your wrist, causing you to wince.

Dr. Crusher noticed this, and gently took your wrist in her hand, "Let me take another look," she scanned your wrist with another handheld medical scanner, "Ahh, it looks like the fracture I repaired earlier is applying excess pressure on your radial nerve," she smiled reassuringly, "It's just a pinched nerve, but I'll need to go get a different tool to repair it," she gently released your wrist, "I'll be right back."

As you waited patiently for her to return, the doors to Sick Bay opened. You looked up and saw Data making his way over to you.

Having not seen him all day, you were elated that he was here, "Data!"

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm for his arrival, somewhat perplexed at how your mood always seemed to improve almost immediately upon the sight of him, or mention of his name. His smile widened just slightly when he reached his hand out to you, and you eagerly took his hand in yours.

After a few moments, his expression became serious, "Commander Riker informed me of the injuries you sustained during the Away Mission," he frowned slightly, "I apologize for not arriving sooner, but the Exobiology team required my assistance in analyzing the samples you and the remaining members of the Away Team collected."

"No apology necessary; I understand."

He performed a quick visual inspection of you, before his eyes met yours again. It only lasted a second, but you could have sworn you saw something akin to concern swimming in his golden irises, "Are you alright...Dumpling?"

You took a moment to absorb the new nickname before replying, "Yes, I think so...Dr. Crusher healed all of my cuts, and repaired my broken wrist. She still has to alleviate a pinched nerve, but other than that and a few scars, she says I'll be just fine."

"I am...relieved to hear that," he squeezed your hand gently, "When Commander Riker explained to the Captain and myself that you had directly thrown yourself in front of an incoming boulder, in order to displace Ensign Diaz out of its path, my mind was..." he paused pensively, as he searched for the most appropriate term, "...uncomfortably preoccupied with the prospects of how extensive and detrimental your injuries could be," his thumb rubbed the back of your hand affectionately, and his eyes appeared almost sad. "The possibility that you sustained serious injuries, or could have lost your life was rather...distracting to me, and made it difficult to complete the sample analysis."

You brought your intertwined hands up to your lips, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, "I'm sorry for worrying you," he looked as if he was going to remind you that he was incapable of worrying in any fashion, but he didn't vocalize the correction, "I didn't intend to land directly in that boulder's path. I was only trying to push Ensign Diaz out of the way, but I miscalculated the boulder's velocity."

His expression became neutral, "Regardless, your actions were admirable, and I am pleased that your injuries were minimal," suddenly, he gave you a pointed look. "However, as your partner, I must sternly remind you not to knowingly put yourself in unnecessary danger again," his expression softened slightly, "Dumpling."

A soft laugh interrupted your moment, and you both turned towards the sound, "Well, don't you worry, Data," Dr. Crusher had returned, a new tool in hand, "In a few moments, your Dumpling will be as good as new," you blushed at her use of the moniker, and Data took mental note of this.

Dr. Crusher held the tool against your wrist. It tingled slightly, but otherwise you felt nothing. After a few minutes, she turned it off and removed it from your skin, "Alright, move your wrist for me again?" you repeated the same motions she had shown you before. This time, there was no pain at all. She smiled, "Better?"

"Much better; thank you."

"You're welcome. I suggest you don't put too much strain on that wrist for a couple of weeks," she began to put away her tools and instruments, "If you notice any more pain, please come back to see me."

You nodded, "Thank you, I will," Data helped you carefully hop down from the Bio-Bed, "Do you want to grab some dinner now, Data?" you asked, "I have a sudden, inexplicable craving for dumplings."

Dr. Crusher held back a laugh.

5. Love Bug

"So, Reg will take care of Spot, Keiko will water and watch over our plants, Beverly and Geordi will keep tabs on our ongoing research experiments..." you reviewed the checklist on your PADD for the umpteenth time, "Okay, I think that's it...am I forgetting anything?"

"Negative, Love Bug. It appears you have everything 'under control'."

You peered up from the PADD to look at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "'Love Bug'?"

Data nodded, "That is what I said."

You sighed, but smiled softly, "Okay, Data; what's going on?"

"To what are you referring to?"

"In the past month, you've been calling me various nicknames. What's all this about? Are you conducting some kind of research?"

He looked at you, accessing your reaction for any kind of anger or discomfort. When he saw nothing but confusion and curiosity in your eyes, he sighed softly, "It had been brought to my attention that couples tend to utilize terms of endearment for each other," he blinked, "I did not wish to neglect one of my expected duties as a partner, nor did I wish to make you feel as though you were 'missing out' on an aspect of couplehood, simply due to my ignorance."

You softened immediately at his admission, "Oh, Data," he looked away briefly and somewhat sheepishly, "Being in a relationship with you doesn't make me 'miss out' on anything. In fact, I've gained much more from being in this relationship with you than I would from being in a relationship with anyone else."

His eyes locked with yours, and they were noticeably brighter than before, "Truly?"

You placed your PADD down on a nearby table, and took both of his hands in yours, "Truly," you repeated, before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. When you pulled away, you flashed him a reassuring smile, "Everyone else are the ones who are missing out."

The corners of his lips curled just faintly upwards, "Thank you for alleviating my vexations in that regard," he raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment, before he looked back at you with an inquisitive expression, "Based on your reactions to each of the names I chose, I gathered that you did not particularly enjoy any of my selections. Is that an accurate conclusion?"

"I mean, they weren't necessarily bad choices, they were just...a bit dated, and neither of our styles. But yes, you're correct that I didn't particularly like them."

"Hmm," he bowed his head down slightly to better meet your eyes, "Do you have a preferred term of endearment you would like for me to use?"

You pursed your lips in consideration, "Well, I do have specific names that I do like...but I don't think I'd want you to use those, either."

He tilted his head softly, his eyebrows scrunched in slight confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think that pet names chosen between partners should be somewhat unique, in the sense that they should relate to something only the participants of that relationship are aware of, like an inside joke of some kind," you paused, "I think those names should also match both partners, not just the recipient of the name. I don't think my current preferences fit you because they aren't necessarily terms you're likely to use."

He took a few moments to analyze this new information, before he nodded, "Yes, I believe I understand. In essence, you would like for me to choose a term of endearment for you that is both unique and relatable to you, but also representative of my vernacular?"

You smiled and squeezed his hands, "Exactly, yes."

"Hmm," he blinked, "I shall take this into consideration, and 'return to the drawing board'."

You laughed softly, "Sounds good," you leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "Thank you for being such a sweet and considerate partner."

"You are welcome."

"What about you?"

His look of confusion returned, "What about me?"

"Is there any particular name you'd like for me to use for you?"

He thought about it briefly before raising his eyebrows, "Truthfully, I had not considered requesting a term of endearment for me, from you...Although I do not have a preference for any particular term at this time, I believe I would like for you to bestow one upon me."

You nodded, "Okay. I guess I'll have to go back to the drawing board, too...but for now, let's go enjoy our Shore Leave, Love Bug."

+1. "Dearest" and "Sunshine"

As Data's eyes flickered between his canvas and you, he could tell that you were getting restless. You had remained in your current position for the last 2 hours, 47 minutes, and 13 seconds, relatively unmoving. You had not complained once about your discomfort, but he could tell from your slight fidgeting that the required stillness was getting to you.

He reviewed the state of his canvas one more time, adding a couple more strokes of paint, before gently setting his brush down on his easel, "Would you like to take a break?"

You immediately sighed with relief, "Yes, please," you began to move, but stopped, "if it's not too much of an inconvenience for you?"

"Not at all. In fact, you have been an excellent muse thus far; much better than Spot. You are more than deserving of a break," he set down his paint palette, and tilted his head as he reviewed his progress. He was able to get a good portion of your silhouette and distinctive features outlined onto his canvas. He would only need your assistance for another session or two before he could complete the painting on his own.

"Can I see it?" you asked excitedly as you made your way over to him.

"Please," he said, and stepped aside to allow you viewing space.

You looked it over, and smiled widely, "Wow, this looks amazing already, Data! You're definitely going to get the highest marks from your art teacher for this," the two of you continued to admire the beginnings of his painting in comfortable silence for a moment, before you broke it, "Can I ask you something?"

Data turned to look at you, "Of course."

"Why did you decide to paint me for this assignment?"

"In my art course, we recently discussed the Aestheticism art movement. The core belief of this movement was 'art for art's sake'. In other words, it prioritized the aesthetic value of art, rather than the common belief at the time of the movement's introduction that art must serve a particular, didactic purpose," he paused, and inhaled sharply before continuing, "For this assignment, my instructor desired for myself and my classmates to create a work of art, in the tradition of the Aestheticism movement."

You absorbed all the information he just provided, attempting to determine how it related to you. After realizing you still didn't understand the connection, you asked, "That's all really interesting, Data, but what does it have to do with me?"

He eagerly continued, "After careful consideration, I realized that you embody Aestheticism. Although you can and do appreciate the hidden meanings of not only art, but many aspects of life itself, you also recognize the importance of creativity with no inherent purpose," he looked at you softly, "During one of our thoughtful, evening conversations we shared in the initial stages of our relationship, when I had explained to you my confusion as to my purpose of being, you responded that perhaps my father had no true purpose in creating me. Perhaps the only reason he created me was because he wanted to produce something beautiful, simply because he could. Perhaps he merely wished to add something of aesthetic value to the universe. Perhaps he was an artist, just as much as he was the forefront of cybernetics."

He inhaled sharply again, still looking at you, "I have found myself revisiting that conversation consistently and frequently, as frequently as the rate at which you are a part of my thought processes. This lesson, in particular, had triggered my memory banks to replay this memory 3.27 times more than usual. Thus, I deduced that you would be the most appropriate topic for this assignment."

You blinked, staring at him in complete bewilderment. You certainly weren't expecting that answer! Your brain felt like it was malfunctioning, uncertain how to process all this information.

As your brain melted inside your skull, you felt him gently take your hand, "Additionally, this assignment has also made me realize how...dear you are to me. You are always willing and eager to assist me in my hobbies, activities, assignments, and other endeavors. You have never expressed agitation nor annoyance with me, and always allow me to 'babble' to any length or degree. You have always encouraged myself and my passions, even when they potentially served an inconvenience to you."

He squeezed your hand gently, "The term 'dearest' refers to someone who is: loved and cherished, greatly valued, precious," he exhaled softly, "Although I am incapable of love, I am capable of cherishment, and seeing the value in others and objects. I certainly cherish you, and see how invaluable you are to many individuals, including myself," he looked at you with pure determination, and maybe a hint of pride, "Therefore, I believe the most fitting term of endearment for you is 'Dearest'."

At this point, you were short-circuiting, and your brain was absolute mush. Data was always eloquent with his wording, but this was definitely one of the most eloquent things he had said to you. It made his earlier statement of being incapable of love seem completely impossible. No one could speak in such a way about anyone or anything, if they weren't capable of love in some capacity or degree.

He watched you cautiously and patiently, his eyes moving slightly from side to side as he awaited your response. Your brain was still unable to form coherent thoughts, and no words escaped your lips. As his words sunk in and settled as warmth in your chest, all you could do was beam at him as you threw your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips to his in a deep kiss. He was frozen for just a moment, evidently surprised by your reaction, but gently moved his hands to hold your waist and returned your kiss.

After a couple of minutes of eager kissing, he pulled away, "Based on your reaction, I assume that you find this an acceptable term of endearment for yourself?"

You laughed softly, "Yes, Data, I do. It's perfect."

His lips curled upwards into a faint but bright smile, "I am glad you think so, Dearest."

You played with the ends of his hair that tickled his collar, still beaming at him, "You know, this just confirms my theory that 'Sunshine' would be the most fitting pet name for you."

He tilted his head, analyzing the moniker, "Intriguing. What is your connotation of this nickname, as it pertains to me?"

"Well, ever since I met you, you've brought so much light and sunshine into my life. You're a very bright, and warm person, both literally and figuratively, that you are an embodiment of the sun and its sunshine. I realized I've come to think you of as my personal ray of sunshine," you wished you could convey your thoughts and ideas as refined as the manner in which he just did, but the state of your mind was still too slushy to do so.

At your admission and unexpectedly sentimental token, his expression softened. You could tell he was analyzing and processing your sentiments with a fine-toothed comb, no doubt for further review later.

He was quiet for a long time, or at least, a long time for an android, and you began to shuffle nervously, "Do you find the name acceptable?"

Again, he was quiet as he mulled over your query. Finally, his eyes met yours, "Yes, I believe I do. I never considered the similarities between myself and the sun, but I can understand how you came to those conclusions," he blinked, "Yes," he repeated, "I do 'like' it, Dearest."

Your lips brushed against his once again, "Glad to hear it, Sunshine."

[great-like-gatsby]

a relationship with dexter morgan...

Dexter Morgan x reader relationship head-cannons and etc. sfw!

trying different layouts, kinda rocking with it.

Dexter Morgan who brings you little sweet treats after work (or rather, after a kill)

He is also known to give you a foot massage from time-to-time

And makes you breakfast in the morning, pancakes of course

He's always watching you, analyzing you, admiring you. Wondering how you do it, act so graceful, exist so human. You're so human to him, real. You feel things deeply, you love, you hate, and craziest of all; you love him. You ground him, keep him in touch with his humanity.

He's often considered himself empty, a shell of a human. However, you make him feel things. Something that deeply shocked him at first, but something he's grown to adore.

He's very protective of you, especially in public. He's not big on pda or even holding hands, but he'll keep you as close to him as possible. Keeping an eye out for any unsavory characters. He knows what kind of people are in this world, he really knows.

If you mention you like something once, he'll show up the next day with a lot of whatever it is. It can be annoying at times, like when you mentioned you like yogurt and Dexter showed up with a case of yoplait every time that you saw him for like a week, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

For being such a control freak, he's not all that controlling in his everyday life. He pretty much always lets you choose dinner, the movie, tv, the restaurant, etc. While he may be thinking how stupid something is on the inside, if you're happy, he's okay with it.

He loves watching you get ready for the day, especially when you do your makeup. He likes the ritual of it, it reminds him that everyone has one, and that he may not be as disconnected from humanity as he thought. He knows they're not exactly comparable, but it's the principle of it.

He's a great listener, he loves hearing you rant about your day, your idiot coworkers, all your simplistic little annoyances and day-to-day happenings. It takes his mind off his very complicated, fucked up life. Allows him to see into the world of the average, normal person.

He's always touching you when you sleep, his hand on your waist, face buried in your neck, legs intertwined with yours. It's likely because his subconscious is convinced that you're going to wake up one day and see him for what he truly is, then leave him.

...

Got inspired by one of my mutual’s recent post, idk why I never considered making short little head cannon posts and whatnot. I think it's cute! Hope y'all like it :)

nsfw version coming soon...

[great-like-gatsby]

hiya jadey! A hotchner!reader x spencer request for you <3 Maybe Spencer comes home a little tense/snappy from a case and reader misinterprets it as anger towards her so she starts clesning and catering to what she thinks Spencer needs so he isn’t angry at her anymore? (even thought he never was.)

She sort of regresses into what she did when her adoptive parents weren’t pleased with her :(

love you love you love you superstar!

i love u <3 | fem, 1k

cw past emotional abuse

The door to Spencer’s apartment closes with a distinct clunk. Certainly shut too hard. 

It sends a horrible feeling deep into the very pit of your stomach. Like you could cry, then and there. You frown at the odd feeling and stand to shake it off. 

Spencer’s home. 

“Hey,” you say, calling without seeing him, making your way into the living room from his kitchen to find him at the door. 

His bag looks heavier than usual on a slouched shoulder, his hair puffy. He must’ve showered before they flew back into Virginia and air-dried his short curls. He drops his bag on the floor, scrubbing his face, nose and eyes screwed up tightly as his glasses push up to his forehead.

“You okay?” you ask.

His face flickers. “Fine.” 

It’s not the greeting you’d wanted. Maybe you’re egotistical or something but you’d at least expected a hug. He’s the one who invited you over, surely he wants to see you?

The queasy feeling worsens. 

You give him a little kiss on the cheek to test the waters. “Missed you.” 

“Yeah, I missed you too.” 

You aren’t convinced. Spencer rubs his face again, trudging to the couch to lay down. 

You send yourself into a tailspin. Looking around the apartment, you can see why he’s unhappy. You left your cup on the coffee table, your handbag on the armrest, there’s so much to clean up and put away. 

His silence means you did something wrong. 

He asked you to be there. He left you the key. But maybe he didn’t really want you there after all. 

When you were younger, you’d get home from school, and a half hour later your father’s car would park in the driveway. You’d get this feeling, then, a tenseness, not necessarily fear but anticipation. Some days it wouldn’t matter, and most days he’d come through the door like a animal to be coaxed into softness. You’d convince him to be angry at something else. Enable his fury, agree with every word he said. 

Smiling, calmed, he’d walk into a spotless kitchen and find a pan soaking in the sink. I just wish you’d have some fucking consideration, he’d say. Or, Really? Or he’d sigh like he couldn’t believe it and slam a cabinet door. 

Nothing was right. You weren’t worth any patience.

“Dove?” 

You peek around the doorway again, your tidying having taken you to the kitchen to wash your cup. “Yeah?” you say. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just– just cleaning up.” 

“It’s fine. It’s clean, don’t worry about it.” He frowns at you. “Are you okay?” 

“‘Course.” 

His frown deepens. Spencer only ever frowns when he’s confused. When he’s upset he tends to press his lips together in an accidental pout, and when he’s angry, he’s stony. Spencer’s good at profiling because it’s his job. You learned it at home. Seeing anger in things most of all. 

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” you ask, wiping your hands on your shirt. “Sorry, I should’ve asked how the case was. It was tough, right? It– I mean, they’re all tough.” You smile as you sit on the couch beside him, one leg tucked underneath you. 

He shakes his head. “I’ve missed something. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“You’re not acting like yourself.” 

“Sorry.” You wince. “I thought you were having a bad day?” 

“I am. Or, I was.”

Spencer holds out his hand. When you take it, he pulls you toward him with the care of someone who knows what it’s like to be startled, shuffling toward one another to be knee to knee. He holds your arm like it’s all of you, pressing you to his chest. 

For a while, you just sit there. Quiet, almost silent, the apartment rests around you. Spencer frowns at your hand as he draws lines up and down your arm, but slowly his frown softens, and you realise your stress has faded with it. Spencer isn’t angry. And if he were, it’s not with you. 

“Sorry I shut the door hard when I came in,” he says. 

You feel caught. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Today was really bad, I got into it with Emily and the case… I don’t know. But coming home to you…” 

Spencer curls your fingers over his hand and presses them to the underside of his chin. 

“Thank you for coming over,” he says. “Did you eat?” 

You can’t help smiling, turning your hand slowly to cup his cheek, to hold him still. “I was waiting for you.” 

“Well, you decide and I’ll go pick it up.” 

“I can’t come with you?” 

“Do you want to?” He turns into your touch, glasses pushed against his eye, his lashes on the lense. 

You take back your hand. “Sure.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we’ll walk. It’ll be nice, the weather’s not too bad.” 

“You feel okay?” he asks. 

“Worried about me?” 

“What your brother might do to me,” he says, nodding into the joke. Then he cracks just as quickly and tugs you in to hug you sideways. “Worried about how I made you feel.” 

It wasn’t Spencer’s fault, but you don’t want to talk about it anymore. You push up taller than him to encircle his head and neck, pressing your nose into the soft crop of his hair. He squeezes the small of your back with similar gusto. “Got my wires crossed,” you mumble. 

”Want me to uncross them?” 

You say, Please, and Spencer pushes you away from him to put your arms firmly on the right sides of you, uncrossing you, and kissing you on the nose. 

[great-like-gatsby]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐱𝐭𝐬: 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

warnings: cursing, sexual, pregnancy, f!reader

[great-like-gatsby]

I don't think Reiner could handle being in a fwb situation for long. He might TRY to, but in spite of his being a bit of a horny jock, I think sex for him is so linked to devotion and protectiveness and honoring your trust in him that after a couple of sessions, he's already practically glued to your side and looking at you with big soft golden puppy dog eyes. The guy probably can't even dry hump you without telling you he loves you.

[great-like-gatsby]

their fav panties!

including: toji, nanami, gojo, geto, choso, sukuna & hiromi (nsfw, mdni, geto's reader has hip dips)

thank you sm for 700 followers!

TOJI likes the black thong with the red 'property of toji' embroided on the front you bought as a joke. when he pulled down your shorts and read it, he burst out laughing, you did too. but he actually loved it and made sure you knew by giving you the most life changing backshots you've ever gotten, thong still on. his hips bucked in an angle that always hit the right spot with the tip of his cock. he also made sure to fill you up with his cum, just to further mark his property.

NANAMI likes the frilly ones that look like a little skirt, specially the one with a bow behind. he likes to look a it when you're on your knees, bent over and struggling to fit all of his girth inside your mouth. his arm rests on the back of the couch, a glass of whisky hanging from his fingers, his tie is loose and his hair is all messy. he looks like a mess and he knows it, but he also loves the contrast of his rugged self and the softness of your figure in front of him, offering your warm throat as stress relief.

GOJO likes buying you lingerie sets any chance he gets, that's the benefit of having a rich boyfriend! he likes the ones with the tiny and lacy thongs he can just pull to the side and let you bounce on his dick all you want. he loves it when you're on reverse cowgirl, and how from his point of view there's nothing but a thin elastic clinging to your ass cheek. he buys them custom made, and makes sure to add a little 'SG' charm on the back so he can mark his territory anytime you wear them with your low rise jeans.

GETO likes the calvin klein set you have that matches his boxers. he likes it when you both come back from the gym and start undressing for a quick shower together and sees in the reflection of the mirror the matching sets. he then focuses on how your dips on your hips stand out more with the high waisted underwear and his mind starts to go places. as much as he loves the way your figure looks with them on, he much prefers them out of the way, craving nothing but the warm feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock mixed with the cold tiles of the shower.

CHOSO likes you in anything, but if you were to ask him, he would say the black boyshorts are his favourite, the ones you often wear with one of his band tees to walk around the house. it's comfy and sexy, and he likes that he can smell himself on you when he hugs you from the back. although he can't help himself and a hand may slide down to your pussy and start lazily playing with your clit. the soft fingers massaging your bud sending shockwaves through your entire body and his hot breath whispering sweet praises on your ear.

SUKUNA likes the ones with the slit, he's a man with urges, so he appreciates the easy access for a quickie in a public bathroom or in the car. he just lifts your skirt and spreads you open with his cock, no prep or anything. 'cause he knows that you like the burning sensation followed by the delicious fullness of his length buried deep inside of you.

HIROMI likes the sheer pair of briefs you bought for your one-year-anniversary as a surprise. the meshy black fabric lets him see those puffy pussy lips when you bend over for him and he can't help but lick you through the panties. thankfully the fabric is so thin you can feel his tongue messily lapping at your cunt and the friction that the mesh adds is just so nice.

[great-like-gatsby]

loml | hange x reader

summary: the first time hange sees you after your breakup.

cw: 1k words, and listen this is angst okay. open ending. smoking and swearing. both of them are bitter af. no beta we die like hange: scared but willingly. recommended songs for listening while reading this: cowardice by defeater, loml by taylor swift and/or such small hands by la dispute. enjoy!

Hange has managed to avoid you for a few of months now.

It didn’t really manage to soothe the ache in their heart, almost as if the phantom of your relationship still existed around Hange. Traces of you left behind the scene of their heartbreak, a couple of lipsticks in the bathroom, a Polaroid of your smile attached to the fridge. There isn’t a day in which Hange wakes up in a cold bed and not misses the feeling of your body next to theirs.

“Tch, gotta at least pretend a little. You look miserable.”

Levi’s mellow voice doesn’t hurt them, and Hange notices how he hasn’t used any insults to address them for the past couple of weeks.

There’s music and chatter filling the air, making Hange feel exhausted at the thought of interacting with people alone. They are hiding in the balcony, with Levi by their side. Smoking seemed like a good reason to excuse themselves from the conversation.

“Well, Sherlock, I am miserable.” Hange mumbles, cigarette dangling from their lips. “Shit, where’s my lighter?”

Before Hange can look in their pockets, Levi fishes a silver lighter from his own, handing it to them. A muttered thanks is all he gets in return.

It was Nanaba’s birthday celebration, a dinner slash party slash event happening at the shared house of Miche and Nana. The thought of the happy couple only makes the pain more sour.

“You sound like a fucking emo teenager. What is this, 2006?”

Needless to say, they weren’t handling the break up very well. They wonder if you were affected by it at all. It’s been, what, three months?

In the meantime, Hange’s hair got messier. Dark circles now adorned their brown eyes. They picked up the bad habit of smoking again, one they had dropped when they were a graduate — the reason they quit in the first place was your breathing issue. Was it bronchitis?

Everything is blurry lately.

Hange hears Levi mutter yet another curse word under his breath, but they think none of it. Smoke enters and leaves their lungs, slowly poisoning their body.

“Smoking kills, you know.”

The sound of your voice makes Hange momentarily freeze in place, as their brain short circuits at the sound of the words you once told them years ago.

Slowly, awfully slowly, they turn around, being met with the sight of you.

You got a haircut since the last time you saw each other, and it suits you perfectly. There’s a guilty smile playing on your lips, painted in a color they haven’t seen you wear before. Something darker, edgier. After all, your favorite lipstick was left at Hange’s place.

“Yeah, too bad.” It’s what they come up with, taking another drag, blowing the smoke towards the open air, in order to avoid it reaching you.

There’s a beat of silence, and you get closer.

What now? Hange thinks. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Perhaps they should have been nicer, more gentle.

You give them a chuckle, followed by “It doesn’t smell good, either.”

It was a far friendlier response than what they originally expected.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Levi states, before discarding his own cigarette in the ashtray. It was awkward enough as it is. “Figures.”

Silence weighs heavy between the two of you, the tension so thick it barely allows you to move — but you do. Of course you do. While Hange is curious and erratic, manic even, you manage to be the reckless one in this relationship. Did, actually.

“How you’ve been?” You dare to ask, and Hange almost gasps in disbelief.

Their dark eyes find yours as they bury the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray. Something inside them snaps, thinking about how this seems like a scene straight out of a nightmare.

“The usual. You?”

Their stab seems to reach your heart, from the look on your face, and it almost pains them. Almost.

“Well, uh… still living in Petra’s guest room. Working a lot. You know, stuff.”

Hange chuckles in return. They know damn well about stuff — crying before sleeping, not being able to eat from how much they miss you, smoking for breakfast. Stuff.

“Stuff. Yeah, I know.”

A glean around your neck makes them notice how you are still wearing the necklace they gave to you, the jewelry reflecting the moonlight. It was Hange’s birthstone or something like that. Something they didn’t understand why you liked, but still gifted it to you in order to make you happy.

“Yeah.”

Another beat of silence. Another piece of their heart dropping on the floor, cracking like glass.

“Was wondering if you’d like to, um, catch up or something. I miss you.”

They chuckle again.

“Sweetheart.” They fully turn their face to you, seeing you standing closer than they thought you were. The sound of the old nickname tastes bitter on their tongue. “You are the one who decided to call it quits. You don’t have to make small talk out of pity.”

You make a sound that seems like something between a scowl and a sigh, avoiding Hange’s somber eyes.

“I don’t pity you. Believe it or not, I don’t see you as a victim-”

“Excuse me?”

“although I do regret what I did. I was fucking depressed and didn’t want to be a burden to you. I’m sorry, I realize I fucked up. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, to take care of you again. And, you know, let you take care of me too.”

Hange sighs. You blink at them.

“I really am sorry, Han. I wanna make this work. These past months have been the worst of my life. I regret breaking up every single day.”

Hange stares at your moonlight glazed eyes, nodding.

“Yeah. Guess we can go out for coffee or something.”

[great-like-gatsby]

sanji + shotgunning is heavy on my mind....

[great-like-gatsby]

sweetest devotion

sub!gojo x dom!reader x switch!nanami

word count: 1.8k

warnings: all porn no plot, afab reader, cucking, voyeurism, praise, degradation, humiliation, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, subspace

dedicated to: the birthday boy but mostly @angeltani

“eyes open, toru.”

if his tongue wasn’t sitting numb in his mouth, if he had even a weak spark of pride left inside him, he would’ve told you that he could see perfectly fine even with his eyes screwed shut, thank you very much. but you’d snuffed out the bonfire that was his ego ages ago and gojo had no will left in him to defy your order.

you’re smiling when his eyes blink open and for a moment, he forgets the little game you two are playing. fuck, you’re beautiful. even after two years together, gojo feels his heart thud just a little harder, a little faster whenever you throw that smile his way. he relaxes into the chair he’s sat on at the sight of you and nearly smiles himself at the playful gleam that dances behind your eyes.

at least, he would’ve smiled if nanami didn’t choose that same moment to reach around from behind you and start playing with your clit.

Keep reading

[great-like-gatsby]

Let’s talk dirty… sexting

(levi, eren, armin, jean, reiner, & porco)

note: i was horny…

warnings: explicit discussions on sex and body parts, sex, cursing, f!reader

– levi

–eren

– armin

– jean

– reiner

– porco

divider link

[great-like-gatsby]

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍, and it truly doesn’t matter if you’re only a couple of inches taller, or an entire foot.

None of that matters when you’re on your knees for him, his fingers tangled in your hair as your pretty head bops up and down along his cock.

God, you made him feel amazing. Your mouth worked wonders, and any form of composure he once had slipped away instantly. He thrusted himself down your throat with every buck of his hips, grunting and groaning with pleasure and he tried to fight off his approaching orgasm.

But he couldn’t. Not with you milking his cock so beautifully.

“I’m about to cum,” he warned, another groan following shortly after.

And you, being the obedient girl you were, didn’t pull away, even when he shot his load down your throat.

You looked gorgeous wiping his mess off of your chin.

“You swallowed it all?” He ran his thumb across your cheek. “Good girl.”

As you smiled at him, he couldn’t help but grin. Levi certainly didn’t care that you were taller than him. Not one bit.

He only cared about you taking his cock in any of your holes, and being his well behaved sweetheart.

🏷: @kaiyaki-sano

[great-like-gatsby]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. boob obsessed!geto x female reader. smut, pwp. (big) tiddy appreciation. exhibitionism. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’. not proofread ! queued

“aht aht, don’t you dare look up,” suguru warns the non-sorcerer who’s grovelling before the both of you. the man was about to lift his head, but decides not to after hearing your lover’s cold tone.

suguru’s hands continue to massage your breasts nonchalantly, keeping you trapped on his lap. he’s been doing this for an hour now—teasing and fondling your body in front of the low lives that come to him for help.

it’s like he’s mocking them by not paying attention to their pleas, solely focusing on you instead. you’re more than embarrassed by the fact that your tits are on display, but suguru makes sure that the visitors can’t see you by commanding them to bow and not lift their heads.

he’d kill them on sight if they caught a glimpse of you.

“s-sugu,” a whine in the form of his name leaves your lips. his fingers are digging into the flesh of your breasts, squeezing and massaging them in circles. the kimono suguru had asked you to wear, is now pooling around your waist.

‘easier access,’ he said. you only now understand what he meant by that.

“shhh, keep it down, darling,” suguru nibbles on the curve of your shoulder, long black locks of hair tickling your exposed skin as they get in front of his face. you shiver as he pinches your nipples and twist them before pushing your breasts together. he sighs, “don’t want those filthy monkeys to hear your pretty voice.”

you squirm on his lap. his saliva stains the skin of your neck, his breathing heavy against your nape. the pads of his thumbs press against your nipples as he pretends to listen to whatever the man in front of you is trying to say.

“move your hips,” suguru whispers against your flesh. you can feel him smile against your shoulder after leaving a small kiss there. you listen so well as you automatically grind against his crotch—earning a low groan from him.

“yes, just like that. back and forth—mhmm, what a sweetheart you are,” your lover praises you in a soft tone, “you listen so well.”

you’re amazed by his change of tone when talking to you; how he goes from cold and stern to the visitors to soft and sweet to you. you bite your lip as your ass grounds against his hard bulge.

your tits are still getting played with. no matter where or when, suguru always has to have his hands or lips on them. his eyes are glued to your cleavage and the way your breasts jiggle and flow like water between his fingers.

“say. . .” suguru starts off, tongue quickly wetting his lips. he kisses the side of your neck lovingly, ignoring the poor man chattering in the middle of the room. his dick throbs in his boxers and his eyes glow from excitement. his hands squeeze your breasts once more;

“would you mind riding me, sweetheart? ah, please—while facing me so i can appreciate these beautiful tits of yours.”

[great-like-gatsby]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, praise, established relationship, whiny nanami, cowgirl, mdni.

nanami loses his mind whenever his dick slips out of you.

thin blond strands of hair stick to his forehead as he stares at you. “sweetheart,” he almost pouts, hearing nothing but white noise in his ears as you’re jerking your body up and down against him. you felt so good, the warmth you always provided for him made him fall more and more in love. your saturated grip was merely addicting. he was quite literally drowning in your cunt. he found himself licking his lips, tossing his head back in bliss with a beefy arm clinging onto the rickety headboard. nanami uses his free hand to hold onto your waist, padded calloused thumbs brushing up and down your waist. “ugh, you do it s- so well, ride me so good,” and his words were like a broken record, a broken whisper. despite its raspiness, you could still hear the neediness lingering underneath. he looked so pretty, glossed up with tears of damp sweat. nanami’s mahongy blown irises rolling back before a low grunt pours from his lips.

“kento, ‘m close,” and as those sweet three words left your quivering spit-glossed lips, you let off a pitchy loud moan. your knees dig themselves deep into his thighs. as you vigorously rock further against his lap, it happens. he’s got a hand attaches to your waist only for his cock to abruptly slip itself out of your slippery cunt mid thrust and you could hear a tiny gasp leave his lips.

“o- oh fuck,” he groans, blinking twice. his entire palm creeps up against your ass as he pants. even the way he swore sounded angelic. the squelching pop sound that created from the sloppy action of your hips makes his ears ring. nanami buries his face into the forbidden crook of your neck in sheer embarrassment, wrapping a few thick fingers over his veiny length. “let me put it back in, s- sweetheart. stay still . . please.”

there was so much entreating beg in his voice, he felt the furrowing curl of his eyebrows compress together before he sprawls your thighs apart further with a single hand.

“okay,” you hum, feeling a breeze of wind rip straight out of your lungs. you’ve lost track of how many hours it’s been, riding him until he was a dumb pussy drunken mess. nanami felt his cock twitch at any and every word escaped from your lips. he could listen to your voice all day and never grow tired. your voice was his own favorite song to listen to on loop. “put it back in, ‘ken.”

“anything for you, my love,” he huffs, broad arms wrapping around your torso. he held you close, never wanting to let go.

the parching hot temperature of your own body radiates against him - your chest, it presses up onto his own and he practically feels himself melting from your balmy heat.

“s- so soaked for me.” he points out with half-lidded eyes and a flushed face, preparing to re-align himself. nanami finds himself gawking at just how wet you were, creating a sheeny trail of your heat all on his lap. it made his mouth water at the thought of him licking it right up. he never minded to be messy — especially for you.

anytime you let him go inside, he makes it his entire life goal to make sure you feel good.

you let off a whimper, skimming a few trembly fingers down his faded undercut as he’s going back inside. you can hear his irregular pants as he’s smearing his damp cockhead against your entrance. nanami stares down, practically about to cum just from going back in.

with ease, you suck him in slowly and that moment was gonna always be embedded into his brain. you always swallowed him in so good. his girth, it stretches you open right away and your pussy greets him yet again with another greeting welcome. “k- kento, fuuuck.”

“i know, i know,” he pants, maneuvering soothing circles around your back with a clammy palm. you still had your knees dug into his thighs, making a cute attempt to start moving again. both bodies so close, perspiring with sweat that you start to stick and glue against him. with his sculpted jaw tightening, nanami can’t help but give the left cheek of your ass a nice squeeze. “oh, sweetheart. ‘m not gonna last if you keep— keep clamping down on me like t- this, fuck.”

as he’s fully inside again and his eyes salaciously roll way back, the powerful jerk of your hips starts to accelerate again and he’s already dumb.

dumb from your sweet, sweet cunt - his true enemy, you had him whipped.

there’s already a milky white ring coating around his thickset base. each time you jolt up from his lap only to slam back down, you hear the squelches of your own slippery cunt.

it’s messy, he’s messy. only for you though.

nanami feels the warm palm of your hands playfully shove him back against the fluffed pillows that’s directly behind him. “ah,” he lands back with a sheepish expression, gentle umber colored eyes flickering at your grinding body. “w- what’s this?”

“lie back, ken,” you murmur to him, feeling the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kiss up against your most sweetest spots. it took everything in you for your thighs - for your legs to not collapse right then and there. you see more teary beads of sweat race down the sides of his forehead as he clings onto your unstable waist. “there . . good,” you purr to him, sliding a hand up his abs, a finger ghosting down his chiseled v-line and further back down toward his visible blond happy trail. “good boy.”

he swallows — a soft noise leaving out of him. nanami felt his cock twitch again, and this time, you felt it too. “s- say it again,” he pleads, his voice gruff yet still needy. you steady your hips, creating more haste before pressing a kiss into his neck. “c- call me that again, sweetheart.”

“good boy, kento,” you repeat in a whisper, realizing that he actually got off to your praises. he melts again, this time at your words. the bed creaks and grates in rapture, sweaty bodies mirroring springy movements in sync before he abruptly sinks his face into your chest.

“praise me more,” he utters hoarsely, and you let off a soft moan as he shifts himself underneath you.

you’re still bouncing on him, hearing the groaning springs of the bed sing out a lewd tune of its own and your back arches. as you felt brief bittersweet pangs near the undersides of your thighs spread like wildfire, he whines.

“mhh,” and within seconds, you feel the wet tip of nanami’s tongue lick a long stripe down the valley of your chest. pretty lashes of his flutter shut before he holds your hips in firm place. as you stare down, his twitching thickset cock still concealed deep within your walls, he pouts one more time, squished face tuck right between your chest.

“please. praise me again, my love. pretty please.”

[great-like-gatsby]

— ˗ˋ aot boys' favourite nsfw phrases ˊ˗ —

a/n: i thought it was time to show some love to the other boys ft. eren, jean, levi, armin, erwin, reiner and bertholdt 🫶🏻 —support banner by @benkeibear ❤︎

cw: use of names (pretty, baby, princess, girl) and the word pussy ⟡ enjoy! ♡ minors kindly do not interact <3

eren: "that's it pretty, just like that."

jean: "one more baby, i know you can."

levi: "i'll tell you when i'm done fucking you, got it? say yes sir."

armin: "such pretty noises for me."

erwin: "you're making daddy proud, princess."

reiner: "your pussy was made for me."

connie: "atta girl. taking my cock so well."

bertholdt: "look at you, so pretty taking my dick."

[great-like-gatsby]

content. top dom!hange, bottom sub!reader, praise, rough sex, hange has a dick/strap but other than that all anatomy is ambiguous

sex with hange is, in a word, passionate.

they whisper sweet things to you, so loving and tender and intimate, all the while, they’re fucking you as if possessed; slamming into you so hard and fast that your legs go numb and your mind just blanks. each thrust has your sweat-slick back sliding up the bed, and each time, they just pull you back down by your hips in one smooth motion. brown eyes, usually from behind glass, stare at you, now bare and swallowed up by black. hange’s calloused fingers dig into your soft flesh and their mouth smothers your neck in kisses and hushed praises, quick yet slurred.

“so perfect for me,” they breathe, voice low and hoarse from exertion, “love you so much, darling, my angel. you’re so good. so good, so good.”

and you can barely hear it over the sound of slapping skin, grunts in your ears and your own gasping moans. you cling to them helplessly, nails carving the evidence of your pleasure into their tan skin. every time their pelvis meets the backs of your thighs, the tip of their cock pushes into that sensitive bump inside you, and the sheer intensity of it has your jaw going slack and your knees clamming up around their waist, all shaky and loose.

they coo, “need some help there, sweetheart?” and without warning nor waiting for your answer, they pull out of you and flip you on your front like you weigh nothing. you barely register the change in your surroundings before the wet head of their cock is poking at your entrance and sliding back in. no sooner than that, they’re yanking their hips back again and pistoning into you at that blissfully ruthless pace. all you can do is pant and whimper into the mattress, fingers coiled around the sheets so tight you can barely feel them.

“arch your back for me, gorgeous,” they rasp, and you do as they say, or at least try to, and it’s enough to make them moan out loud. “that’s it, just like that.” they take your wrists and straighten your arms out behind you, stretching them tight like a bow string as they continue to fuck you. “shit. look at you,” they ramble breathlessly, “so damn pretty like this. my dearest schatz.”

your chest peels off the sheets and your shallow breaths quake through your ribcage. hange’s strength and speed is relentless and so cruel in comparison to their words. the way their cock reaches so deep, the way it abuses that fragile spot inside you on every inward thrust and how there’s barely even a second for you to recover between each one. then they switch the two hands on your wrists out for one, their long fingers effortlessly wrapping around the width of your two hands, so the other can make a cute handle out of your hair. tears bloom in your eyes and watery hiccups jump from your throat at how they’ve locked you in place, at how lewd of a position you’re in.

“i know, baby, i know,” hange mumbles, as if you’re actually speaking to them and not just making noise, “but you’re doing so good, angel, taking me so well.” they swallow hard and let out a long, heavy sigh. “fuck, y’gonna look so pretty cumming on my cock... you always do, always so good f’me. can never get enough of you, my sweet little thing, my darling dove.”

you’re stumbling and choking over your own breaths now, as if they’re running away from you sooner than you can catch them. your core is hot and leaking puddles onto the sheets, so desperate to be touched, but you’re locked in place by hange’s grip, unable to rut against the bed to relieve the building ache there.

“want...” you whine and hope that hange can, by some miracle, decipher what you mean.

“what do you want, my love?” they ask, and you can only manage a warbled, “please,” and a frantic wiggle of your hips.

“ah, i see,” they drawl out and tiptoe the hand in your hair down to that needy place between your legs. “here? is this what you want?” they rub their palm over the slick area, so harshly it erases all words from your mind, so you can only hope that the cry and urgent nod you give is a sufficient enough answer.

immediately, their fingers start to pet and rub your wet sex with the thoughtfulness of a master musician tracing an instrument, familiar and skilled, slow and careful — yet those polite touches don’t last long. soon, they’re narrowing in on the places you love most with a feverish pace, all while hange continues to bully their cock into you, never once missing that sweet place inside you as they let that heavenly flow of praise drip from their lips, like ambrosia from a god’s fountain. so primal yet divine. their motions, their touches and the gravelly edge to their voice; the essence of strained yearning. they fuck you like a sinner yet worship like a saint and there’s no other way you’d like it.

[great-like-gatsby]

onlyfans!toji who has combined his two favourite things, money and sex.

who gets off on knowing poor souls like you are paying to watch him fuck his fist, to listen to the sick sounds me makes when he’s on the edge. he likes the money, loves the attention.

who, after a loving tip from you, starts a private chat to thank you personally for your donation to the toji-orgasm-fund. you’re sweet, a fair bit more flustered than he’d expect, and so fucking good with your words.

who actually gets to know you between the phone sex sessions, learns your favourite colour and middle name and that one high school story you laugh when retelling. when he’s not feeding you lines about fucking your brains out, he’s asking questions about yourself, hopes and fears alike.

who invites you over on a whim, and half expects you to flake on him. though he’s glad you didn’t when he’s got you face down on his bed, tears staining the sheets as he stretches you out on his cock: finally hearing those sweet moans in person. camera set up, turning you from a fan into a moviestar.

and who, despite the riches your body could bring him, likes fucking you beat when he’s got you to himself. his eyes only, someone to dote on him and get fucked stupid in return.

[great-like-gatsby]

𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙬𝙩𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙩. 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩. - kento n.

content warning !! - smut (finally!!!!1!!1!), whatever kink using your cursed technique on your partner is, piv penetration, doggy, black!fem reader, manhandling 🤤, nanami being big everywhere, squirting, praise, light degradation, unprotected sex, a tad rushed in the end

a/n - based off this post but ignore the part where he said nanami'd have to be gentle bc we gon take it like a CHAMP 😤

There's a rough hand circled around your neck, punishing not only your pussy, but your insides that are begging for mercy from the rough thrusts on the other end. Nanami's bent you under him like this for what feels like hours now, he looks like a man on a mission, desperate for ease and relaxation, the only way he can recieve it is pistoning his cock inside his beautiful and willing wife, the one babbling 'please' in broken syllables.

"You can take it, baby. I know you can, doing so good f'me." He coos encouragingly in your ear, too bad the only thing you can process is how thick his dick is, streching you out in the best way imaginable, walls so incredibly expanded to his shape that it even recgonizes that lovely vein that rips the right moans from you.

The sheets have nearly come off the mattress, deep and concentrated pumps causing the headboard to hit the wall a few times, making Nanami have to hold it to avoid putting a dent and to keep himself sane before he spills everywhere. Each and every time he slides out, you contract, tightening around him and hitting your spongy spot perfectly when he rams back in. "Ooohhh, fuckfuckfuck, right there! Yes! Mmmh!" You whine almost incoherently, sensing your abdomen getting tense for another release.

A second hand, one that was previous preoccupied on your ass, pushes down on your back, practically englufing the surface of it all. He leans over, still not quite there, but he's chasing it, the feeling of release at his fingertips.

His eyes are squeezed shut, he can't imagine what'll happen if he looks down and sees the white ring around his length. Nanami refuses to cum that unfortunately, he needs to feel it, have it be taken from him in the most dire way conceivable. Nanami's eyes fly open feeling that delicious squeeze from your hole, a whine following suit. "You close? You're gonna milk me like that." He perches himself on your arched back. "Yes, shit, 'm gonna cum.. baby, please." You beg, tears trailing down your face from the weakening sensation. "Not yet. You come when I do, understand?" He nearly growls, although it's low from his frustration.

You ramble out a few no's, you're not even sure if you can handle holding it until he says so. You're grasping at whatever is within arm's reach, knuckles going pale from the shameful grip.

Shit. He can see all your weak points... one being faint but clearly prominent from the signal you're giving, pushing yourself back into him furthering him. Nanami never pictured himself using such a method to get you over the edge, and for all he know it could be dangerous. But he needs it, the shiver down his back that comes with a great aftershock from draining himself, that breath of air from the intensity of it all, Nanami has to feel your cunt caving in around him—nearly trapping him to cum inside.

So he does.

With a contained amount of force, he pulls his hips back and delivers the most powerful force into your lower-body that travels down your back, accompanied by your restriction giving out on you and coating everything from your legs to his thighs in transparent, gooey, liquid, your whines ricocheting off the walls. Your body's compensating for it by making you tremble, right agaisnt your husband who's giving you his all, seed nearly flowing out as he grunts adorably from the shock. His hands squeeze your hips, attempting to recover from the blow that domino effected back to him while pouring into you.

"That's it. Yeahh, look at my dirty girl milking me dry." Nanami thanks you, giving a gentle and appreciative kiss to the temple.

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