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❄️❄️❄️ 2024

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my friend @l8niteth0ts has a new blog ^^

This is a self-ship space. That means some of the men I write about? Yeah—they’re mine. You can read, you can enjoy, but don’t forget who they bow down to at the end of the day. 🙂‍↕️

I post mostly Attack on Titan and Obey Me! content: 💋 Self-insert fanfiction 💌 Male Char x Fem! Reader (or sometimes m x f x m) 🔞 NSFW (18+ only, obviously) 💍 Previously known as @l8niteth0ts and @l8niteth0ts2

If you’re here to swoon, simp, or scream over your own fictional partners too—pull up a chair. If not? You know where the door is.

Hi, I’m Sunny. This is my yume/self-ship fanfic blog where I post emotionally indulgent—and filthy—fics about my fictional partners and other characters the fandoms know and love.

I’m canonically married to multiple disasters—please do not interact weirdly. I am married to: 💍 Floch Forster — 01.11.25 💍 Leviathan — 10.15.21 …and I’m dating: 💌 Porco Galliard

❗ Please DO NOT INTERACT if you self-ship with any of these characters. You can enjoy them, you can find them attractive—but if you genuinely view yourself as romantically involved with them, I ask that you respect my boundaries. I will block all duplicates I come across.

I’m in my 20s, a September Virgo, I have an ISFJ personality type, and I live in the Midwest, USA. I currently work in retail, but I dream of becoming a radiologic technologist, a nail artist, or owning my own cozy coffee shop where I serve cute drinks and write smut behind the counter, hehe.

When I’m not writing or simping, you can probably find me: 🎮 Playing video games 🎧 Listening to music 🛍️ Shopping or collecting cute things 🌿 Hiking, swimming, or trying to live out my cottagecore dreams 🎤 Singing to no one in particular

I’m introverted, a little weird, and shy at first—but I’m genuinely kind and deeply loyal once we connect.

I accept requests for male character x fem!reader or male x fem x male fanfics.

💌 NSFW requests are welcome! Please be clear about what you want, and make sure you're 18+ if you're asking for explicit content/smut. I will check your bio. If your age is not in your bio, I would like to DM you so we can confirm that you're 18+!

❌ Hard No’s:

Scat

Watersports

Vomit play

If I’m uncomfortable or uninspired by a request, I may not answer it—no hard feelings! 💕

🕯️ I take my time with requests. I write based on inspiration, availability, and interest—I don’t promise to do every request. Please don’t be offended if I don’t take your idea—sometimes it’s just not my vibe!

That said, I love hearing your thoughts and fantasies, so don’t be shy. I read everything with care. 💕

💘 Floch Forster — husband

💍 Married: 01.11.25 🔗 Status: Soul bonded. Emotionally entangled. Endgame.

I’ve been with Floch since the very beginning—yes, even with the awful haircut and the constant crying. I was drawn to him instantly, and I never left. Through every loss, every shift, and every terrible decision, I stayed by his side. Even during the Rumbling—especially then—I believed in him when no one else did.

Over time, he changed. Grew. But one thing never wavered: his devotion to me.

He’s loyal to a fault. Obsessive. Single-minded. And entirely, violently, mine. I helped him see the world differently. He made sure I’d never face it alone again.

“You were the only one who stayed. So now you don’t get to leave.”

And honestly? I wouldn’t dream of it.

#flunny 🪽🖤

💘 Leviathan — husband

💍 Married: 10.15.21 🔗 Status: The first. My twin flame. My comfort in human, no... demon form.

Leviathan was my very first yume love—my original fictional crush, and still one of the most important people in my world. In so many ways, we’re mirrors of each other: introverted, obsessive, emotional, envious, loyal. We share the same passions, the same comforts, the same overwhelming need to be chosen.

We get each other like no one else does. When the world is too loud, he’s where I go.

Despite being in a poly relationship, Levi is surprisingly okay with it—as long as he knows he’s still my favorite otaku. And he is. Always has been.

“It’s not like I need you or anything… b-but if you left, I’d never recover.”

Same, Levi. Honestly, same.

#sunvi 🕹️🧡

💘 Porco Galliard — boyfriend

💌 Status: New relationship, but fiery and passionate nonetheless.

Porco stormed into my life like a wildfire—too loud, too brash, and impossible to ignore. He’s protective, caring, and sometimes acts before thinking (lol). But beneath all that, he has a heart stubbornly devoted to me.

He pretends not to care about my other husbands, but we all know he’d throw down for me in a heartbeat. We’re still new, still figuring out our vibe—but the chemistry? Undeniably explosive.

“No matter how rough I get, you’re my soft place to land.”

And I'll be here for you whenever you need.

#porsun 🛡️💚

~ AO3 ~ Wattpad ~ Yumeship Discord Server (ran by Naomi) ~ Attack on Titan Discord Server (ran by Naomi) Attack on Titan Masterlist (in progress) Obey Me Masterlist (in progress)

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Marley Titan Shifters 😩💕

OH GREAT HEVENS?!!!

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CRITTER FLOCH

that is all

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FUN AOT DISCORD SERVER!

Hi, everyone! I would be so thrilled if you took the time to join our Discord server! It is an AOT server, and it's a lot of fun! We talk about our favorite characters, theories, share tiktoks and reels, memes, fanfics, everything! @erwinsprincess-xoxo , Erwin, Floch and I would be so glad if you joined! 🧡🧡🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🪽⚔️🧣

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Dirty Thoughts (+18) - Caleb (Love and Deepspace)

You were on vacation, and with Caleb working the morning shift, you’d taken full advantage of the alone time to finally start the book Tara had been bugging you to read – an erotic novel with a highly suggestive cover that left no doubt about what it was. Unfortenly for you, Caleb comes back home earlier than usual.

masterlist | request rules

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 1,954

tags: caleb (lads) x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, dom!caleb, established relationship, is not specified if the reader is MC or not (up to interpretation)

content warnings: shameless smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem receiving) dom/sub undertones, use of petnames (babe, sweetheart)

notes: Quickly posting this because tomorrow i work and it's 1AM HAHA. Hope you like it. The ending is kind of rushed, but I didn't want to delay this more. The fragments of the book you're reading are taken from a Zayne x Reader oneshot I wrote a few months ago. You can find it here. :) English is not my first language, not betareader, not proofread.

When Jane finally felt his touch, her fingers wrapped the arms of the chair with a force that made her knuckles turn white. The smooth leather of his glove dragged along her inner thigh in gentle moves, cool at first and warming with each stroke. The sensation sent a shiver through her body, making her legs twitch involuntarily.

“You’re unusually tense today.”

She parted her lips to respond, but the words tangled in her throat the moment he moved his hand again. His fingers slided lower, skimming along her entrance, just barely touching before retreating. 

“What’re you reading, Pipsqueak?”

Caleb’s voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you were reading. Your entire body jolts. The book snaps shut in your hands with a loud whump as you cross your arms over the cover.

It’s only midday. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet.

You were on vacation, and with Caleb working the morning shift, you’d taken full advantage of the alone time to finally start the book Tara had been bugging you to read – an erotic novel with a highly suggestive cover that left no doubt about what it was.

“You’re home early!”, you squeal, voice higher than usual.

He’s already halfway into the living room by the time you look up, still in uniform and with his jacket halfway down his shoulders. You glance at the hallway at his left, and start to think of an excuse to escape in advance.

“I was going to surprise you,” he says with a lazy grin, dropping his keys into the dish by the door as he makes his way closer. “So, what are you reading?”

He heads straight to the couch, and you feel a rush of panic bloom in your chest. You sit up in a move a bit too quick to be casual and hide the book behind your back, plastering on an awkward smile. “Nothing! Just a dumb romance that Tara recommended.”

Caleb arches an eyebrow, not truly convinced with your answer. His gaze drags over your arms and the tension in your posture. Then, he leans to the side, angling his head forward in an attempt to peek behind you – but you’re faster. Like it comes as second nature, you spring to your feet and twist your body so your back stays between him and the book, successfully hiding it. 

But he doesn't give up.

He steps left, ready to round you. You instantly pivot to block him, mirroring his every move. He leans forward, you rise on your toes. He goes right, you go left.

“Really?” he laughs, amused. “Is that how you wanna play?”

You’re about to reply when your body stiffens at the sudden change in the air. The weight in your limbs disappear, and for a second you feel your feet hover off the floor. The book slips from your arms in a sudden tug, yanked upwards by some invisible force. You whirl around just in time to see it floating through the air and landing neatly into Caleb’s open palms.

Your jaw drops. He has used his evol to win! “Caleb, you damn –!”

“Mmh, let’s see…” he flips it open with exaggerated interest, eyes scanning the page you left off on. Then, he begins to read aloud, voice dripping with mock like he’s reciting a bedtime story. “His hand finally found her core. His fingers glided through the slick folds, the oil on his gloves mixing with her arousal. She was already so wet.”

“Caleb!!” Your stomach twists. You lunge forward, reaching for the book, but he easily lifts it just out of your reach. “Give it back!”

“Jane knew this was part of the treatment and it didn’t mean anything more when Dr. Smith touched her; but for some time now, this has stopped being just a treatment for her,” he continues, eyes flickering over all the words piecing together the context. He looks at you again, but this time his eyes have a different type of glint. “Doctor, huh? Is that what you’re into?” he says as he closes the book and gives it to you.

You take the book with hesitant hands, eyes fixed somewhere near his collarbone, too embarrassed to look him in the face. 

Guilt starts coiling tight in your stomach. He probably thinks you’re gross, reading such nasty things when you’re alone. You must have hurt his feelings, and now he thinks he’s not enough. And it’s all your fault. Why would you even need to read something like that when you have Caleb – ?

“Babe,” he interrupts your spiraling with one single word. “I’m not mad.”

He takes a step closer, and you take a step back, the back of your legs bumping into the edge of the couch. Before you can even think to retreat further, he reaches up and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I just think,” he continues, voice an octave lower, “if you’re gonna spend the morning getting all worked up over a book…”

His hand slides around your waist, and as if you weigh nothing, he puts you down. The cushions catch your back, and he leans over you to trap you between him and the couch. The warmth of his solid body makes butterflies flap in your stomach. You blink up at him, breath caught in your throat as he plucks the book from your hands. He flips it open to a random page, then settles it back into your grip, angling it so it rests against your chest ready to be read again.

“...you might as well have an immersive experience.”

He shifts downward, lips brushing your stomach through your shirt. His hands part your legs until he can settle between them. “So, why don’t you lie down and keep reading? Out loud this time.”

His voice is low and full of heat, but he’s not asking you: he’s commanding you.

You blink down at him, wide-eyed and lips parting like you’re about to protest, but words won't come out. Not when he’s looking at you like that, with his head between your thighs, mouth so close to your core you can feel his breath even through the fabric of your pajama pants. Your entire body prickled with heat.

“Go on.” He nods towards the book, voice darker than before. “Read.”

You feel warmth rush to your face in an instant, because God. You want to hide, to cover yourself or make some weak excuse to leave, but instead, you swallow the nerves down and drop your gaze back to the pages. His voice leaves no room for negotiation, and his presence leaves you too dizzy to disobey.

You clear your voice, voice small but steady. “She… she let out a soft gasp when his fingers returned, thumb finding her clit and giving it an experimental rub –”

You stop mid-sentence.

A breath punches out of you when Caleb’s hand slides into your pants. He finds your clit immediately, like he knows your body better than his own, and as if he’s following a script, his touch mirrors the words of the book. Your head tips back with a soft gasp and your eyes meet his.

He smirks up at you.

“No panties on…?” 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajamas and begins to slide them down, eyes never leaving yours. You lift your hips without having him to order you, and he takes them off. He throws the fabric somewhere behind him. He leans in closer to have a better view, the sweet smell of your bare cunt filling his lungs. You stare at him agape, freeze in your place. He notices and reaches up to gently caress your thigh with one hand.

“Keep going.”

You blink down at the book again, hands trembling as you search the line where you left on. “Dr Smith stopped his movements to spread her lips apart –” you read, “and stare at her… winking hole –”

You feel the pressure of his hand again, opening you up.

“ – rubbing it with one of his fingers before gently… prodding at it!!”

You gasp. His long finger sinks in without warning, stretching your tight walls. Your hips twitch, thighs clenching around his wrist. Caleb doesn’t seem to reach, just watches you from down there while he waits for you to continue.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispers right against your core, the vibration sending sparkles straight to your brain. “But don’t stop now, sweetheart. You need to finish the chapter.”

You force your eyes back down to the page, vision a little blurred from everything going on below. Your voice comes out strained this time, “he starts working her tight hole with his long fiingeeer…” the words tumble clumsily from your lips. His finger pushes deeper, then pulls out completely before sliding back in.  “E-each time he pushed… ah… in, his palm ground down on your sensitive clit…”

Caleb’s hand tilts, and the heel of it massages your sensitive spot at the same time hsi finger enters your cunt. Your entire body reacts at once. Your spine completely arches off the couch, a long moan escapes your throat, and one of your hands flies to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“C-caleb I –”

He looks at you through his lashes, the corners of his mouth curling into something dark and satisfied. “Continue.”

You don't even know where you're supposed to continue. Your eyes glaze over the words, every line swimming on the page. You just pick the first sentence that makes sense.

“Then, finally… Jane felt something warm and wet pressed against her c– AH!” 

Caleb replaces his fingers with his mouth. His hands curl around your legs, anchoring you to the couch and holding you open for him. His tongue does slow moves at first, but he soon speeds up, matching every ragged breath you take. He hums at your taste, savouring every part of you. He’s not even following the narrative of the book anymore, just enjoying the taste of your cunt.

“A-and begins sucking it…” you try to keep reading, but the words move incoherently and you’ve long forgotten what you were even reading. You moan and your back arches. The book tilts in your grip, then slips entirely from your fingers and lands forgotten on the floor.

Caleb doesn’t seem to mind, because he doesn’t stop.

His hands stay firm on your thighs, grounding you as his mouth explores every corner of you. The measured licks grow messier, eating you out with desperation. Every now and then, his lips close around your clit. Your hips jerk closer, the pressure inside you building fast.

“I…” you breath, barely able to speak. “I’m gonna…”

That’s all he needed.

He lets go of one of your legs, free hand now moving lower again – and then he’s inside you. He thrust two fingers inside you like it’s nothing, the mix of your juices and his spit helping ease the pressure. He sets a pace that robs you of thought, matching the rhythm of his tongue with the thrusts of his fingers. He angles them just right, hitting your sweet spot every time he sucks your clit. Your hips jolt back into his face, your toes curl, and you finally feel your climax hit you. 

“Mmmh… that’s a good girl,” he praises, slurping your juices while you come hard on his fingers.

He waits for your body to relax, then lifts his head to look at the mess he’s made of you. “You didn’t finish the chapter.”

You manage a breathless laugh, still dizzy. “Think I lost my place.”

He smirks, brushing his knuckles along your thigh. “Then we’ll just have to start again.”

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Floch fanart for the beautiful @l8niteth0ts <3 This is my second time drawing a background, but I didn't use a reference for it so I decided to keep it simple. It reminded me of the AOT actor AU xD

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I had to draw me & my daddy ofc 🙂‍↕️🧡💋

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2024

(I love this art so much 🥹🥹🥹)

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i hate this guy's stupid ahh hair😭😭😭

idk how to draw it and i'm going mad omg. it's not even the pre-timeskip hair, but he always has the weirdest hairstyles (@l8niteth0ts oc btw)

i don't even understand where the start of his hair is supposed to be

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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊: 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: It’s just another late shift at the gym–until the cocky boxer who’s been eyeing you for weeks finally makes his move. One locked door, a break room table, and a filthy mouth later, you’re not clocking out any time soon.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 (𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈): Biting kink, spit kink (like sooooo much spit), dacryphilia, overstimulation, facefucking, iiiii think that's it. Porco is one nasty motherfucker 🙂‍↕️😍🤤

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,587 WOOHOO!!!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: PORCO!!! It's been SO DAMN LONG, and I apologize! I love this man (don't tell Floch), so I did my best to make this one extra long. Please feel free to leave a like, comment, and feel free to reblog! I am grateful for all of you—thank you for reading my work!

𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞—𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧.”

It's late. It's almost closing time. The gym is dead quiet, except for the faint muffled sound of a punching bag getting the shit kicked out of it. You're organizing the towels when suddenly, you hear the low groan of the punching bag settling, heavy footsteps, then the doors creaking open.

Once they open, you see him. He’s shirtless, sweaty, and has a pained look on his face. He approaches you at the desk, and you cock your head at him, raising an eyebrow.

“First aid kit?” He asks, almost as if it should've been obvious.

You nod, and bend over, digging the first aid kit out from under the receptionist desk that you work at. You stand up, open it and hand it to him. He nods, a silent thanks, and grabs the medical tape out of it. He unravels it, and begins to tape up his bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“You always stay this late, desk girl?” He asks lowly, flicking his eyes up to look at you. “Or do you just like watching me patch myself up every night?”

You scoff, your face flushing. “You’re not that interesting.”

He leans over the counter, too close. His voice dips, “could’ve fooled me. You look like you wanna climb me or something.”

You roll your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest, threatening to break through your ribcage and escape out of your mouth. “You’re delusional,” you mutter quietly, turning your body away from him to begin organizing the towels again. 

This was just meant to be a summer job, nothing too serious. Receptionist at the gym downtown. It was mostly boxers and wrestlers that came here–there wasn’t really any cardio equipment, so that’s why they favored it. It paid fine, considering it was an overnight gig, but it was boring as hell. But, you couldn’t deny that Porco had definitely caught your eye the past few weeks, whether you wanted to admit it or not. You’d never tell him that, though.

Porco chuckles, low and cocky, eyes dragging over your pretty mouth. “Nah. You think I haven’t seen the way your thighs press together when I spit in the bucket? When I take my shirt off?”

You freeze. How the hell had he noticed that? You couldn't even remember doing those things yourself!

Porco’s voice drops lower. “Say the word, and I’ll bend you over that counter, and fuck you so hard you won’t remember how to clock out.”

You swallow thickly, unsure of how to react. Nobody had ever been so forward with you before–it caught you off guard. You scoff again, and continue folding the towels. “You sure talk a lot of smack,” you comment quietly, not exactly denying his offer.

He snorts. “And you aren’t fooling anyone. C’mon, I only bite if you ask me to,” he smirks, leaning on the counter even closer to you.

You turn your body towards him once more. “Why would you even offer me something like that?” You ask, still shocked by his words. Your heart continues to thump loudly in your chest. You wonder if he can hear it. Your palms begin to sweat slightly as your mind races with thoughts of him.

“Why wouldn't I?” He quips, a crooked grin playing on his lips. “It’s obvious that you like me. The feeling’s mutual. Why do you think I've been coming to the gym nightly now, huh? It’s to get a look at the receptionist hottie who keeps her nose buried in her work.” His smirk is wide, as if he’s just said the most obvious thing in the world.

You’re stunned. This hottie gym rat had his eyes on you, too? You contemplate his offer, seriously weighing the pros and cons.

Cons? You could get fired.

Pros? Shit… The pros are obvious.

You huff softly, and can feel your face heating up. “Fine,” you cave in. It’s been forever since you’ve gotten any action, anyway, and this gym rat seems eager to please.

He smirks wildly, teeth showing in the dim lighting, the fluorescents flickering above you two. He steps around the desk, and grabs your wrist eagerly. He pulls you into the employee break room right next to your desk, and slams the door shut behind him. He locks it, and eyes you like you’re a piece of meat.

“Been watching you for weeks,” he growls, gripping your waist and backing you against the wall. You gasp as your back hits the cold concrete. “Didn’t think you’d actually say yes.” His fingers yank your shirt up and off in one smooth motion. It hits the floor like a threat. His hands are on you instantly–rough palms cupping your tits like he’s starving.

“Fuck,” he groans, low and raw. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. You know that? Walking around out there like that… teasing me.”

You open your mouth to say something–anything–but all that comes out is a gasp when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

It starts as a lick, slow and deliberate, then he’s biting, hard, sucking until the bruise blooms on your skin. You slap your hand over your mouth to keep quiet, your eyes fluttering shut. He chuckles darkly against your skin. “What? Thought I’d be gentle?” 

His teeth graze your neck next, and when he finds that one perfect spot, he sucks again–deep. Your toes curl inside of your shoes, and you groan into your hand. He pulls away, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed. “Nah. You knew what the fuck you were getting yourself into.”

Your hand drifts down his hard torso. Your fingers dance over his muscles, appreciating each curve and crevice on his skin. They slide past his dark blonde happy trail, and end up sliding along the waistband of his shorts. His cock is already straining against the fabric–hot, thick, hard.

“God damn,” you practically whimper, voice barely audible. Your cunt spasms at the thought of him inside of you, stretching you out so deliciously. He’d be a snug fit for sure.

“Yeah? You like my cock, baby?” He pants, eyes sharp. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.”

You blink, dazed. “W-What?”

He grabs your jaw harshly, forcing you to look up at him. His thumb drags your bottom lip down. “Open. Your. Fuckin’. Mouth.”

You obey. Your lips part, your tongue hesitantly sticks out, and he grunts, spitting onto your tongue. His saliva drips slowly, and he lets it hang between his lips before it falls onto your tongue. Your thighs press together tightly, panties soaking wet already.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls. “Now swallow.”

You do as he says. You swallow his gift to you, and you stick your tongue out afterwards. He groans lowly, palming himself through his gym shorts. “Fuck,” he breathes, his face turning red. “Such a good fucking girl. So obedient, aren’t ya? You good at following orders?”

You nod, already lowering yourself to your knees. “Oh-hoh,” he chuckles, grinning at you underneath the flickering light fixture. “Go right ahead, be my guest.”

Your hands hover over his waistband, and you swallow. 

This is happening. 

You pull his shorts and boxers down, and his cock bobs softly in your face–thick, flushed, heavy and already leaking in arousal. He groans at the sudden relief, running a hand through his messy and slightly damp hair. “Fuck…”

Your hand wraps around the base, and you lean forward to spit. He groans, his palm landing heavy on your head. “Yeah, get it nice and wet for me, baby,” he praises, breath hitching.

You stroke your spit along his cock, pumping him a little faster, watching the way his abs tense and jaw clenches at every pass of your hand. You lean in to kiss his hips, lips dragging lower. Your tongue licks across that sensitive spot beside the base of his cock–right where his abs slope into that sinful V.

He groans deep. You nip gently at the skin and feel him shudder. The wet squelch of your spit as you stroke him, the thumping of his heart, the rasp of his moans–it’s all you hear.

You kiss your way back to his cock, hand never stopping. You gather spit in your mouth and look up at him through your lashes. He’s flushed. Tense. Needy. You spit on the head of his cock, and it lands wet and hot. He hisses.

Slowly, you open your mouth and wrap your lips around his flushed, dripping tip. You hum as you suck, and he twitches in your hand. Your tongue swirls around the underside of his tip, collecting the saliva that’s been dripping off his cock. 

“God, look at you,” he groans, gripping your hair in his hand. His knuckles lighten, and he sighs. “Your mouth is so fuckin’ pretty. Bet your pussy’s clenching around nothing, isn’t it?”

You nod as you look up at him through your lashes, taking more of his cock into your mouth. You moan, sending vibrations up his spine, which makes him shudder. Some of your saliva drips down onto your thigh, soaking through your pants. You grind your thighs together, desperate for friction, your soaked panties sticking to your cunt.

He forms your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and he yanks your head back, looking down at you. You gasp, watching him with wide eyes. He leans forward and spits onto his cock, slow and deliberate. The spit lands messily on his cock–but a thick string splashes across your nose and chin, too. He grins wickedly, admiring the mess.

“What a dirty fucking girl,” he spits, as he moves your head back onto his length. “Alright, baby. Tap my thigh if it gets to be too much, but otherwise? Keep your hands behind your fuckin’ back.”

You follow his orders, pulling your hands behind your back. His grip on your hair tightens, and he holds you in place as he starts to thrust his hips into your face. He groans, loving the feeling of your throat tightening around his aching cock. “C’mon, baby, open wider. Wanna see how deep that throat of yours goes,” he demands. You open your mouth wider, and he curses.

He thrusts into your mouth faster, and tears begin to sting at the corners of your eyes. He grunts in delight, and holds your head at the base of his cock. You choke, sputtering around him–and he groans like it’s music to his fucking ears. He holds you there for a moment, waiting to see if you’ll tap out. You blink the tears out of your eyes, still looking up at him. Your mascara’s ruined, black streaks running down your cheeks–and the sight nearly makes him blow his load. Your nostrils flare as you desperately try to get as much oxygen as you can. You blink through the tears, lungs burning, chest rising with sharp, frantic breaths.

“Fucking shit, baby,” he whines, pulling your head off his cock to allow you to breathe. You gasp, spluttering as you catch your breath. You wipe the saliva off your chin, and smear it onto his cock. He smirks at you, pride swelling in his broad chest. “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he orders.

You do, and he grabs his cock, smacking it on your tongue. The sound goes straight to your core–you don’t even realize your hand is between your thighs until you feel yourself clenching them together once more. He shoves his throbbing cock back into your mouth, sliding inside easily due to how wet and messy it is. He thrusts into your face once more, chasing his high.

You decide to tease him. You swirl your tongue around his tip and shaft as he thrusts into your mouth, and you ever so lightly graze your teeth against his length. He hisses, and a long, whiny moan escapes his lips. “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he pants, thrusting faster into your mouth. You slip your hand underneath your waistband, circling your fingers around your clothed clit, desperate for some type of friction. 

His eyes trail down to your thighs, and he smirks. “Couldn’t wait for my cock, baby? Such a greedy little slut,” he teases, his voice thick and heavy with lust. “Keep rubbing that messy little pussy for me while I fuck your throat. Bet you’re absolutely soaked, huh?”

His thrusts grow erratic, sloppy, and you gag as his cock pushes past your limits again. “Fuck, fuck–don’t stop,” he groans, keeping your head in place as his hips slam forward. “Take it. Just a-a little more, baby. Almost–fuck–there.” His whiny voice echoes through the break room, and you’re sure anyone walking by knows what you’re up to by now.

You feel his cock twitch on your tongue. His thighs tense and a broken moan rips from his throat. “Fuck, baby–gonna fuckin’ cum–” He thrusts deep, holding your head down as he spills his load down your throat. You swallow instinctively, moaning around him. The sound drives him insane.

Some of it leaks past your lips, dripping onto your chest, your chin, your fingers still buried between your legs. He pulls your face off his cock, gasping in adoration. “Holy fuckin’ shit, baby. Your fuckin’ mouth was made for me–for this fuckin’ dick. C’mere,” he says, grabbing your wrist, pulling you up. Your knees wobble as you stand straight, standing before him breathlessly. 

He wipes his cum off your chest and chin, and pushes it into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his coated fingers, and you moan softly, sucking the cum off of him. He practically growls, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop.

He leans down to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. He groans, his hand weaving through your hair on the back of your head, pulling it so you bare your neck to him.

“Took me so fuckin’ good, baby,” he mutters, dragging his tongue along your jawline, down your neck. “You’ve earned this.” He hoists you up and places you on the edge of the break room table, eyes locked on yours. “Gonna eat this pussy like I missed breakfast.”

He leans down to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue, and groans into your mouth. His lips press to yours hard, but slow–controlled–like he’s savoring the filth of it all. His tongue licks past your lips, dragging against yours with purpose, and he hums low in his throat, like he’s rewarding himself.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you taste so fuckin’ good like this. ‘so fuckin’ hot.”

His hand cradles the back of your neck, holding you steady while he devours you. It’s messy–spit slicks your lips, and your teeth bump once, twice, before you both settle into it, mouths hungry and open, like you’ve been starving for this.

When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen, spit trailing between your mouths. He wipes it with his thumb, grinning. “Lean back, take your pants off. That pretty mouth of yours earned you a treat.”

You nod, and pull your pants and panties off in a hasty rush of need. They get tossed to the floor, to be forgotten about like your shirt. You lie before him in just your bra, and he growls possessively. He leans forward, his hands snaking around your back, unclipping your bra with ease. He slides it off your chest and arms, letting it drop to the floor. 

He eyes you up and down hungrily, and groans like it physically hurts to wait. “Fucking Christ, you were hiding this from me this whole time, baby?”

He drops to his knees, and spreads your legs open with his strong arms. His biceps flex under the dim light, and it makes your mouth water. He pulls you a little closer to the edge of the table, and swallows thickly, inhaling your scent. His breath practically catches in his throat as he takes in the sight of your soaked, glistening cunt.

“All this for me, baby?” He teases, his hands splaying across your thighs. His eyes flick up to yours, and he rasps, “sit back and take it. Lemme worship this sweet little cunt.”

Without another word, he grabs your thighs and spits directly onto your clit. The warm fluid hits your swollen bud and drips down your folds, and you gasp sharply. He watches it trail down with a crooked smirk, then dives in like a man starved.

He licks a long, messy stripe from your entrance to your clit, his tongue flattening and dragging wetly across your folds. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he moans into you. “I knew you’d taste good–fuckin’ knew it.”

His mouth is all tongue and desperation, licking and slurping at you like he’s trying to drink you dry. He shakes his head side to side, large nose nudging your clit, making you whimper and jerk under his grip–but he holds you down firmly. His short nails dig into your thighs just enough to sting.

He pulls back for half a second and spits again, this time aiming low, right at your entrance. It drips between your folds, and he immediately laps it back up, moaning like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. His tongue barely pushes some of the saliva into your hole, and you quiver beneath him.

Then–his teeth. He nips just beside your clit, and your back arches off the table. “Ah–fuck!” You gasp, but the pain sends heat straight to your core. He chuckles darkly.

“You like that, huh? Like when I bite this pretty little pussy?” He taunts, and he does it again–just enough pressure to make you twitch. “Gonna mark you up. Want you to feel my mouth for days.”

Porco groans, tongue lapping over your clit like he’s trying to carve your cunt into his memory with every flick. He sucks your clit into his mouth, just enough to make your thighs twitch again, and moans against it like he’s getting off on the sound of your breath hitching.

Then, you feel one of his hands leave your thigh, and his fingers trail through the spit and slick pooling at your entrance. “Fuckin’ soaked,” he growls against your cunt. He sinks one thick finger into you, slow and deliberate. You gasp, clenching your walls around him as he curls it upward. He groans like he felt it. “Shit, you're so fuckin’ tight.”

He pushes in a second finger without warning, and your hips jerk off the table. “God damn,” he mutters, thrusting them in and out, wrist flexing as he works you open. “You’re fuckin’ sucking me in. Such a greedy little pussy.”

All the while, his mouth doesn’t stop. He sucks on your clit like he’s trying to make you cry, slurping loudly, licking furiously in time with his fingers. You’re a mess–panting, whining, your hands fisting the edge of the table to ground yourself.

His fingers hit that spot inside you just right. Crooked, deliberate, and unrelenting–and your eyes roll back. “F-fuck, h-ha-hahhh–” you cry out.

He hums against your clit, the vibration making you shake. He pulls back only for a second to spit again, mixing it with your slick and letting it drip down his knuckles. “Gonna make you cum just like this,” he pants, shoving his fingers deeper. “Wanna feel you fuckin’ gush on my hand–on my tongue. C’mon, baby, let me have it.”

And then his teeth graze your clit again–soft, teasing, dangerous. Your whole body tenses.

“C’mon,” he growls, voice rougher now. “Be a good fuckin’ girl and fall apart for me.”

Your thighs are shaking, your chest rising and falling in quick, desperate pants. The pressure in your core has been building, burning, and the way his fingers curl inside you while his mouth works your clit with feverish devotion–it’s too much. You can't think. Can't breathe.

“Hahh–fuck–fuck, I’m–”

He doesn’t let up. In fact, he doubles down.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fuckin’ fingers, baby?” He grits out against your clit. “Been makin’ this pussy drip for weeks–c’mon, give it to me. I need it.”

Your moan gets caught in your throat, strangled by the white hot wave building in your gut. Your hips lift off the table involuntarily, your body trembling as his fingers piston in and out of you, fast and messy, hitting that spot perfectly. His tongue flicks over your clit in tight, relentless strokes, and that’s what does it–

You break.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, ripping the air from your lungs. You cry out, loud and needy, as your back arches off the table. Your cunt clamps down hard around his fingers, fluttering uncontrollably. Slick gushes out of you, coating his hand, dripping down onto the floor, soaking the edge of the break room table.

“Fuuuck,” Porco groans, practically moaning against you. “That’s it. That’s it, baby–just like that. Fuckin’ made for me.”

He doesn’t stop until your legs are twitching, your whole body jerking with overstimulation. He slows the movement of his fingers and licks you through the aftershocks, sloppily, lovingly, groaning as he tastes you.

When he finally pulls back, your thighs are shaking and your cunt’s still dripping. He looks up at you like he’s just seen God. His lips are shiny, chin wet, nose smeared with your slick.

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” he pants.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he grabs your wrist, and yanks you to your feet. He spins you around, slamming you against the door, and you gasp. Your arms fling around his neck, holding his shoulders tightly. He hoists one of your legs up, hitching it on his hip. His fingers tease your cunt once more, slipping through your wetness with ease.

“Are you ready?” He asks, voice slightly vulnerable now.

You nod, and that’s all he needs.

He grabs his cock with his hand, and he slowly drags it along your soaking wet cunt, hissing lightly. “Fuck,” he mutters, as he pushes the tip past your folds.

His cock breaches your entrance, past the first ring of muscle, and you wince–the burning sensation of him entering makes your head spin. He hisses as he pushes more of his length in, his mind fuzzy from how tightly your cunt grips his cock. He moans, and bottoms out, pushing inside ‘til he’s taken to the hilt. “You like that, baby?” He pants. “Fuckin’ hell. So fucking tight.”

“Mmhm,” you whine, mouth agape due to the fullness you feel. “F-Feels so good. You’re so–mmm–so big.”

Pride swells in his chest once more. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he starts thrusting–slow and deliberate at first, then faster and harder. Your back presses firmly against the door, every movement sending delicious jolts through your body.

His mouth finds your shoulder, and he kisses it hungrily, lips wet and hot and desperate. He bites down, his teeth barely breaking skin. You yelp, the pain white hot and intense, and it slowly fades to pleasure. He can taste your blood on his tongue, and it mixes with his saliva as he licks the bite mark clean, humming low in satisfaction.

His hands roam wildly–one gripping your hip, the other slipping around your waist to yank you even closer, like he wants to fuse your bodies together. His chest presses flush against yours, slick with sweat. You feel the hot trail of his spit as it drips from his lips down your neck and shoulder, then lower, slipping between your breasts.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, his voice thick with strain. He bites down again–just below your collarbone this time, and harder. The sting makes you cry out, back arching as he sinks his cock deeper inside you. He pulls back just enough to let a thick string of spit fall from his mouth onto the fresh bite mark, then rubs it in with his tongue like he’s soothing the pain and branding you in the same breath.

Your breath catches. You’re trembling, barely upright, fingers tangled in his damp hair, clawing at his scalp as he keeps fucking you through it–each thrust harder than the last. Spit drips from his mouth as he pants, landing on your chest, your lips, your chin. He doesn’t bother to wipe it away, and neither do you.

You moan into his neck, body shaking. He’s everywhere. His hand comes up to grab your jaw harshly, turning your face toward him. His thumb forces your bottom lip down, opening your mouth, and he spits into it–sloppy and possessive.

“Swallow it,” he demands.

You do, instantly, and he fucking growls.

“Tell me you want this,” he pants, voice rough, his teeth dragging along the side of your throat, just grazing your pulse.

“I–I want i-it,” you whimper, lips wet and trembling. “W-Want you, p-please–fuck–”

“Yeah?” he snarls, biting again–just beneath your ear this time, enough to bruise. “Then take it.”

And you do. You let him fuck you into the wall like you’re made for it–like this is the only place your body was meant to be: marked with spit, covered in his teeth, full of his cock.

Each thrust sends you higher, closer, your thighs quivering from the strain of holding yourself up. His grip never falters–one hand digging bruises into your hip while the other travels upward, fingers wrapping tight around your throat. Not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your pulse thunder in your ears.

“Fuckin’ take it,” he growls, spit flying from his lips as he ruts into you like an animal. “You love this shit, don’t you? Getting railed against the door like a needy little slut. So wet for me, baby–fuck, you’re dripping all over my cock.”

You whimper, unable to form a word, and he leans in close again–teeth dragging along your jaw, your cheek, your neck. Another harsh bite sinks into the slope between your shoulder and throat, and you cry out, gasping for breath.

He pulls back, and spits on your face–hot and messy, sliding down your cheek to your lips. You open your mouth for him on instinct, dazed and aching, and he laughs low in his chest.

“That’s it,” he pants. “God damn. Filthy fuckin’ girl. I feel your pussy clenching for me, y’know? Hnnnng–bet you’re right on the fuckin’ edge.”

You nod frantically, your hand trapped between your bodies, nails digging into his pectorals. “Gonna cum,” you whimper. “P-Please, let me cum–”

He buries himself deep, grinding into you with brutal intent. “Then fuckin’ cum. Do it–cum on my cock, baby. Show me how desperate you are.”

And you do. You shatter with a cry, your body locking up as the orgasm tears through you. Your cunt spasms around him, sucking him in tighter, and your knees buckle completely. He holds you up with pure brute strength, watching your face contort in pleasure, your eyes rolling back.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, slamming into you one more time. “Gonna fill you up, baby–fuckin’ take it, take it, take all of it–”

He cums with a broken moan, biting down on your shoulder so hard you swear he’s trying to leave permanent proof of this moment. His hips stutter, cock twitching deep inside you as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt, ropes of hot cum spilling out around his length.

The two of you stay locked together, panting and trembling, your bodies slick with sweat, spit, and each other. His lips are still on your skin, breathing you in, as he presses one last messy kiss to the side of your face.

“Mine,” he mutters, biting you gently this time. “You hear me? You’re fuckin’ mine.”

You can’t even answer. Your limbs are jelly. You cling to him, breath coming in shallow gasps, your whole body pulsing with the aftermath of your orgasm. His cock is still inside you, softening slightly–but not for long.

He groans, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “Holy fuck, baby,” he breathes. “You feel so good–so fuckin’ tight, even after all that.”

You twitch when he shifts, and he notices. Notices the way you still clench around him. The way your hips instinctively roll, chasing friction even though you’re spent.

“Shit,” he huffs, pulling back to look at you. You’re flushed, wrecked, drool glistening on your lips, a smear of spit drying on your cheek. Your thighs are soaked, slick with both of you, and his cum is already starting to drip out.

“Fuckin’ hell.” His voice drops, thick with hunger. “You look so God damn pretty like this, baby. Ruined and full of me.” He cups your jaw, tilts your head back just enough to see your dazed expression. “Think you can take another?”

You blink at him, half lidded, lips parted. “Y-Yeah,” you whisper, dizzy from the high. “Mmmm, w-want more.”

That’s all he needs.

“Good girl,” he growls, and pulls out with a wet, lewd sound that makes your toes curl. His cock is already stiffening again, shiny with your combined mess. He lifts your other leg, and you wrap both around his waist. You gasp as your back slams gently against the door, and he lines himself up again.

This time, there’s no build up. He slams into you with a wet squelch, and your breath leaves you in a strangled moan.

“Oh my God–”

“Yeah?” He pants, already pounding into you like a man possessed. “You want this fucking cock again, huh? Couldn’t get enough?”

Your nails rake down his back, desperate to anchor yourself as he fucks you harder than before–snarling, biting, drooling against your skin. His cum drips down your thighs as he pounds more into you, and you swear you feel him throb even harder than round one.

He presses you further into the door–your shoulder blades sting, your muscles twitch, your thighs ache from being pinned around his waist. But you don’t care. You’re soaked, dripping, clenching around his cock as he continues to rut back into you with a wet, forceful thrust that makes your jaw drop.

“Th–There we go,” he pants, grinning as his cock forces your walls to stretch again. “Still so fuckin’ wet for me. So fuckin’ greedy, baby.”

You sob. It’s too much. You’re too sensitive. And yet… your pussy flutters around him like it wants this–wants more. Needs more.

He sees the tears in your lashes and his hips stutter. “Aw, fuck,” he groans. “You’re cryin’, baby?” He licks a slow stripe up your cheek, collecting your tears and spit alike, and then–spits it back onto your lips. “So fuckin’ pretty when you cry.”

You whimper, your arms limp around his neck, fingers barely gripping his damp hair. You try to nod, try to answer, but your head falls back against the door with a soft thump. You’re gone–mind blank, body wrecked, barely holding on.

And he loves it.

He bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder hard enough to bruise. Your whole body jerks. “Fuck, you still keep squeezin’ me like that, you’re gonna milk another load out of me,” he groans.

He spits again–onto your tits this time. Hot, wet, messy. It slides down the valley of your breasts, mixing with sweat and tears and leftover cum, and he rubs it in with the flat of his tongue. “You taste so good,” he growls. “Your pussy, your sweat, your fuckin’ tears–I’ll lick everything off you, baby.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily. The pressure inside you builds again–impossibly, despite how overstimulated you are. You babble something incoherent, and he catches it: “C-Can’t, I–too much–”

He laughs, breath hot on your collarbone. “Too much? Thought you were my good little girl?” He slows just a little, his cock still driving deep but now rolling his hips in slow, punishing thrusts. “You can take it, sweetheart. Cry all you want–just don’t fuckin’ stop clenching like that or I swear I’ll lose it.”

One of his hands snakes between your legs. His fingers rub rough, tight circles against your clit, and you practically scream. Your whole body starts to shake, another orgasm barreling down on you like a freight train. Your legs twitch, your voice breaks.

“Thaaat’s it,” he pants, kissing the tears on your cheeks before spitting onto your open mouth again. “Give it to me. Cum on my cock again, baby. Fuckin’ break for me.”

Your legs tremble violently around his waist, body twitching as your orgasm builds too fast, too sharp–too much. You try to twist away, overwhelmed and whimpering, but his arms lock you in place like a vice.

“Don’t you fuckin’ run,” he growls against your neck. His teeth scrape up your throat and he bites, hard enough to make your knees buckle. “You think you get to tap out now? After makin’ this mess on my cock?”

You sob. It’s messy, ragged, humiliated–exactly how he likes you. Your mascara has run halfway down your face, lips red and swollen, and you’re soaked between the legs–his spit, your slick, his cum from before–it’s everywhere.

He shoves his hips forward again, cock driving impossibly deep, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. His fingers are still circling your clit, fast and merciless, slick from all the filth coating your thighs.

“Look at me,” he pants, his forehead pressed to yours. “Wanna watch your fuckin’ face when I ruin you.”

You try–you really try–but your eyes keep rolling back, jaw trembling, lip wobbling with every thrust. A broken noise rips from your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

He fucking smirks.

“There she is,” he coos mockingly. “Pretty little crybaby. What, too dumb to speak now? Just cryin’ and takin’ my cock like you were made for it?”

You shudder violently as your orgasm slams into you, tearing through your already exhausted body. Your nails rake down his back, digging deep as your whole body seizes and trembles against the door. And still, still, he keeps going.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ take it. Don’t stop–don’t you fuckin’ stop now,” he grunts, slamming into you over and over again, dragging your orgasm out until it hurts.

More spit hits your chest–your cheek–your lips. He licks it off sloppily, messily, groaning into your open mouth as you both breathe each other in like oxygen. You’re twitching now, overstimulated and boneless, barely even there–but he isn’t done yet.

“Shit–shit, baby, I’m gonna–fuck–” he groans, grinding deeper into you, stuttering, groaning, chasing his own end as your cunt clenches wildly around him. “Gonna fuckin’ cum again in this tight little fucking pussy–fill you up–fuck–”

His rhythm stutters. His hands tremble against your skin. The grip on your ass tightens as he slams himself deep inside you, groaning through gritted teeth.

You feel it first–his cock twitching inside of you, the pulse of it, the warmth of his cum flooding your walls, thick and hot and endless. His hips jerk a few more times, riding the waves of his release, rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Fuuuck–baby–” he breathes raggedly, head falling to your shoulder, teeth dragging against your skin. “You were made for this. This pussy–fuck–made to be stuffed full’a me.”

Your cunt flutters around him with the aftershocks of your orgasm, the overstimulation still sharp in your belly. You’re shaking–completely limp against the door, body painted in sweat, spit, and cum.

He stays buried inside you for a moment, panting into the crook of your neck, his hands slowly unclenching as he steadies both of you. He drops soft kisses on your jaw, then your neck, a sharp contrast to the filth he just fucked into your bones.

“Jesus Christ,” he finally mutters, pulling out slowly. A mess immediately leaks down your thighs–his cum, your slick, a sticky testament to everything you just did. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. Dripping.”

Your legs threaten to give out, but he catches you easily, arms sliding under your thighs as he lifts you from the door and sets you gently on the edge of the break room table. The cool surface bites into your overheated skin.

You blink through the sweat in your eyes, your lips parted, throat raw, mascara streaked halfway down your cheeks. You’re still trying to breathe. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just watches you with something almost reverent in his gaze.

Then–softly–he reaches for a paper towel from the break room dispenser. “Shit, I made a mess of you,” he mutters, gently dabbing the spit and cum from your chest. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

You huff a tired laugh. “Now you’re sorry?”

“Not really,” he grins, flashing those teeth again. “Just tryna be polite.”

You both chuckle, dazed and breathless, your thighs still trembling as he cleans you up with surprising care. His fingers brush over the bruises blooming on your neck, and you watch the smug pride return to his face.

The room smells like sweat, sex, and cheap disinfectant. You’re still perched on the breakroom table, legs dangling, hair a wild mess around your shoulders, body marked up with hickeys and spit. He’s leaning against the door now, chest bare, gym shorts haphazardly pulled back up, his flushed skin still glowing from the exertion.

“You good?” he asks after a beat, voice low and warm.

You nod slowly. “I think my legs forgot how to work.”

He chuckles–really chuckles–and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry. Kinda… went a little feral.”

You raise a brow. “Kinda?”

“Okay. Full caveman mode. I’ll own that.”

A breathy laugh slips past your lips, and he walks over again, gentler now. He picks up your bra and hands it to you without a word. You slip it on slowly, still sore and still catching your breath.

“I didn’t even get your name,” you say after a moment, smirking a little.

He pauses. “Shit. Right.”

He offers you his hand, like you didn’t just choke on his dick twenty minutes ago.

“Porco.”

You stare at the outstretched hand. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“That’s your real name?”

“Uhm, yeah. What, you thought it was my stage name or something?”

You snort and finally take his hand. “It does sound kinda like a stage name or something.”

He fake scowls, but doesn’t let go of your hand. “Alright, tough girl. What’s your name?”

You hesitate, then say it softly, watching his reaction.

He repeats it under his breath, testing the way it sounds on his tongue. His thumb gently traces over the back of your hand. “That’s real pretty.”

A silence lingers between you for a moment, comfortable and warm, your fingers still loosely tangled with his.

Then he nods at the table and adds, “So… any chance I can earn a date with you sometime? Take you somewhere nice? Preferably not a break room.”

You smirk. “You asking me out, Gym Rat?”

He shrugs, cocky grin creeping back. “Figured I might as well try my luck before I get banned from the premises.”

You laugh, shake your head, then reach over to the desk and grab a pen. You scribble your number down on a torn corner of your shift schedule and hand it to him.

He grins, tucks it behind his phone case, then leans in one last time to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I’ll text you later.”

“You better.”

He pauses, hand on the doorknob, glancing around at the very obviously ruined room. “You know,” he says, deadpan, “this break room is definitely a biohazard now.”

“Get out.”

He laughs and slips out the door, still grinning like a bastard.

ⓒ 𝐋𝟖𝐍𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐓𝐡𝟎𝐭𝐬 -- 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

AOT MASTERLIST

OTHER AOT CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

PORCO GALLIARD MASTERLIST

ʚɞ

[selunefae]

and reblogs with hastags and text. you're so funny ppl pls never stop interacting

Reblog if you’re grateful for your commenters <3

[selunefae]

Need someone that wants to betaread

I've been planning a Reiner Braun x Reader longfic for 6 months (altough I only have the overline and 1 chapter written) and one shortfic (i started this now) and I need to know if someone would like to be my beta reader. 😭😭 It doesn't need to be RIGHT NOW, I just need to know if someone would be willing

Preferably someone that has English as their native language or at least lives in an English Speaking country 😀

[selunefae]

a/n: author is not american and has no idea about american football.

thinking about jock!reiner captain of the football team and his cute nerdy girlfriend.

how he towers you in every sense of the word. reiner feeds on the adrenaline, the weight of the ball on his hands and the roar of the crowd. he loves the attention, a total opposite of yourself. you were quiet and tiny in comparison, always drowned in oversized sweaters and those round glasses that were just a little too big and always ended up siliding down your nose whenever you got nervous.

you hated crowds and always hide behind your laptop, so it was no surprise everyone stared when the reiner braun ignored the post-game chaos – after one big victory – and jogged past all of it, straight to a sechuled corner behind the benches where you always sat alone. without a second thought, he scooped you up into those massive arms and spun you around, your legs kicking mid-air as you clung to him, mortified. you wanted to melt into the ground. every eye was on you. people were whispering and you swore you could feel eyes digging into your back like daggers.

reiner didn't let that feeling spiral. he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and kissed you like you were the win that really mattered.

because that’s what you are to reiner.

reiner, who carries your books from class to class like it’s second nature. reiner, who waits for you outside the library with his football gear still on, still sweaty and dirty from the training because he can't stay one more second far away from you. reiner, who lets you bandage the bruises on his knuckles even when he insists it's not a big deal. reiner, who bends down for a kiss before every game. for luck, he argues, but really, just because he misses you.

reiner, who doesn’t give a damn what anyone says because in his mind, he’s the luckiest man alive.

he still can’t believe someone like you – a brilliant, beautiful, smart goddess – chose someone like him, a dumb brute.

and sure, he doesn’t understand half the ramblings you go off on when you’re passionate about something, but he listens anyway.

because he loves you, and wouldn't change a thing about you.

[selunefae]

a/n: author is not american and has no idea about american football.

Masterlist | Request rules

thinking about jock!reiner captain of the football team and his cute nerdy girlfriend.

how he towers you in every sense of the word. reiner feeds on the adrenaline, the weight of the ball on his hands and the roar of the crowd. he loves the attention, a total opposite of yourself. you were quiet and tiny in comparison, always drowned in oversized sweaters and those round glasses that were just a little too big and always ended up siliding down your nose whenever you got nervous.

you hated crowds and always hide behind your laptop, so it was no surprise everyone stared when the reiner braun ignored the post-game chaos – after one big victory – and jogged past all of it, straight to a sechuled corner behind the benches where you always sat alone. without a second thought, he scooped you up into those massive arms and spun you around, your legs kicking mid-air as you clung to him, mortified. you wanted to melt into the ground. every eye was on you. people were whispering and you swore you could feel eyes digging into your back like daggers.

reiner didn't let that feeling spiral. he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and kissed you like you were the win that really mattered.

because that’s what you are to reiner.

reiner, who carries your books from class to class like it’s second nature. reiner, who waits for you outside the library with his football gear still on, still sweaty and dirty from the training because he can't stay one more second far away from you. reiner, who lets you bandage the bruises on his knuckles even when he insists it's not a big deal. reiner, who bends down for a kiss before every game. for luck, he argues, but really, just because he misses you.

reiner, who doesn’t give a damn what anyone says because in his mind, he’s the luckiest man alive.

he still can’t believe someone like you – a brilliant, beautiful, smart goddess – chose someone like him, a dumb brute.

and sure, he doesn’t understand half the ramblings you go off on when you’re passionate about something, but he listens anyway.

because he loves you, and wouldn't change a thing about you.

[selunefae]

One day to pretend - Arthur Morgan

tags: fluff, arthur morgan x reader, arthur morgan x fem!reader, arthur morgan x afab!reader

a/n: quick formatting bc my PC broke and i had to do this in the phone's browser. :') i had this idea since i played chapter 3 (yes, i just played rdr2 😭). english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

wc: 1269

Masterlist | Request rules

“That was better than the last one,” your voice chimed, light and easy.

It was an ordinary afternoon at camp. The sun continued to perch high in the sky, and the air was thick with warmth and humidity. Everyone had already finished their chores for the day, and now all that was left was to endure what remained of the sweltering heat at Clemens Point. You were standing barefoot in the grass by the dock, a big smile lighting up your face. Abigail needed a moment to rest, so you offered to look after Jack, and now you were trying to teach him how to skip stones across the slow-moving water.

“This is too hard!” he whined, watching the rock he’d just thrown land in the water with a lonely, messy plop.

Arthur stood a few paces behind, just about to take his horse and head toward the nearby town where you'd set up camp. He hadn’t meant to stare, but when he heard both of you laugh like you had no worries in the world, he’d stopped in his tracks.

You were wearing one of the only few dresses you conserved since the Saint Dennis incident, the blue one – the one he liked the best, even if he never told you. Blue was such a nice color, it reminded him of the sky, and it was such a contrast to the tones of red and brown he usually had to see. It hugged your figure perfectly and flowed until your ankles, teasing the promise of your legs.

“Don’t give up so quickly! Let me help you, here” you encouraged him, stepping behind him before gently taking his arms and repositioning them once more. You did it with the kind of care and precision that left Arthur standing still, fascinated by the care on the way to treated Jack. There was a tenderness in you that felt instinctive, like being good with children came as naturally to you as breathing.

It made his heart ache.

Not in the sharp, bitter way it sometimes did when he thought about his mother, or Mary and the life that he could never live. It didn’t sting with grief or burn with regret, and it didn’t crush his chest the way it sometimes did on the worst nights, when the weight of all his sins sat heavy in his bones. This ache was different, gentler. It gave him hope and made him long for things that weren’t real, but didn’t feel so impossibly out of reach either.

For a moment, he let his mind wander.

He imagined you like this, but somewhere else. Not in a camp out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by outlaws and danger, where shots never rested and survival was never guaranteed. No, you were somewhere peaceful. Far from the law and far from having to run every month.

In a little house lost in the far west. One with a porch and creaky rocking chairs. A garden in the back with tomatoes on the vine and a row of sunflowers tall enough to brush your shoulders each time you passed by.You were sitting on the porch, hands resting on your belly with another life growing inside of you. Your face was glowing with the late afternoon light as you watched a boy with your hair and a girl with his eyes tumble through the grass, laughing loud and playing with each other. And Arthur was there, too. Hands calloused, but clean. Worn from work, fixing a fence, maybe. Or pretending to fix it, just so he could keep stealing glances at the porch, at you, at the life he couldn’t believe was his.

A whole life. One he’d never have. But at that moment, it felt just a little too real.

“Uncle Arthur!”

He was brought back in by the excited voice of little Jack. You turned around and looked straight at Arthur. He quickly pretended to be brushing down his horse, hand moving awkwardly over the animal’s neck as if he’d been doing that the whole time. You made a move towards him, but an already distracted Jack spotted a particularly round stone near the dock and ran off to grab it. You caught him by the shoulder, stopping him just long enough to tousle his hair and point back toward camp. You whispered something he couldn’t hear, and Jack trotted back to the direction you just pointed.

You lingered a moment longer, then finally started walking towards Arthur. He kept up the act, still dragging his hand along the horse’s side like he was deep in grooming, though he wasn't paying attention to where his horse needed it. You stopped a few steps away from him, arms folded loose at your waist and an amused little smile tugging at your lips. “Well, hey there, stranger.”

He straightened up and turned like he had just noticed you. “Oh– uh, hey. Didn’t see you there.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Sure you didn’t.”

Arthur scratched the back of his neck and gave his horse a pat, avoiding  your gaze. “Just gettin’ ready to head out. Thought I’d ride into Rhodes. See if there’s any mail, maybe check in on a few things.”

Your face lit up at the mention of town. “Rhodes, huh? I’ve barely seen more than trees since we got here. Any chance you’d let me tag along?”

Arthur looked at you. Really looked. You had those wide eyes that helped you get away with almost anything. A look he knew you used on purpose, and one he could never seem to ignore. There was a spark in them now, a flicker of excitement he hadn’t seen in a while. Not with everything going on.

“I dunno if that’s– well, Dutch probably wouldn’t be too pleased if one of us wandered off without sayin’ a word.”

You tilted your head. “I’m not wandering off. I’m askin’ you for a ride,” you said, clearly aware of what he meant but choosing to pretend otherwise. “Besides, Micah’s always sneakin’ off and no one says a damn word. I’ll be back before supper. Promise.”

He glanced away, jaw clenched as he mauled the request. On one hand, he understood Dutch’s paranoia. There were only a few people he trusted completely – Arthur being one of them – and even fewer he let come and go freely. And Dutch was right to worry. The world wasn’t wasn’t safe, especially not for people like you. But on the other hand... the thought of riding out, just you two, away from the noise of camp… it stirred something warm in his chest.

He didn’t deserve it. Not the softness in your voice when you talked to him or the way you trusted him without question like he could keep you safe in any adversity.

…

But, what the hell? It was just one day.

Arthur looked back at you. You were still smiling, still looking at him with those damn eyes that made it so hard to say no. He exhaled through his nose. “Alright,” he said at last. “But you stay close. We get in, get what we need, and head back before Dutch starts goin’ mad. Sound fair?”

“Fair enough, Mr. Morgan.” You beamed, reaching out to grab his arm in a brief show of affection.

He fought the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Go get your things. I’ll saddle up.”

You turned, already half-skipping back towards your tent, and Arthur couldn’t help but watch you go.

It’s just one day, he told himself. One day to pretend.