#but no sure just call me a mean bitch for trying to keep this place clean

[notanotherblorbo]

The problem with having friends is that I want to hang out all the time and do things for 1 million years but I am also. Tired. And having a job. And having a family that has a bunch of shit going on all the times.

[fantasticalleigh]

i love having to nag my adult brother about cleaning up after himself :)))))

[bucks-babe]

Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

[wheres-mylove]

puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader

Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.5k

A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.  

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.

Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.

“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.

“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.

“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”

“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”

Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”

The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”

“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”

“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”

With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.  

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.

She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.

She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.

Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”

Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.

“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”

Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.

The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.

“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”

And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.

“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.

She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.

“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”

She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?

“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.

“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.

The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.

She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.

“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”

Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”

Ah. The young Stark. 

“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”

The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.

The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.

“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.

It was the girl’s turn to laugh.

“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.

“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.” 

“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”

Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.

“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”

Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.

“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”

“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”

“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”

(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”

“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”

Smooth, Cregan, smooth.

Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.

“Now, let’s help you with that.”

That old hag was right. He had good arms.

The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.

But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.

Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was. 

Helaena Targaryen.

“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before (Y/N) even had a chance to say hello.

“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” (Y/N) shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”

“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”

“I mean,” (Y/N) sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”

He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.

Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my god, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”

(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”

“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”

The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”

“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”

(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”

“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”

She knew he wasn’t.

“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”

A strange noise woke her up.

It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.

“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.

Frosty?

She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.

He wanted her to follow him.

“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty was checking over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up.

In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.

“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.

“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.

“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.

“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.

“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”

Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”

“You really got that worried?” 

“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”

That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.

“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”

“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”

Cregan placed the mug in front of her.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.

Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”

Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?

“Are you asking me out?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.

“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”

He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”

She liked him so much.

“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?” 

“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.

Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.

Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.

Well done, human.

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[bbokicidal]

"Where Did I..." | Corruptive!SKZ [H.H.]

If you've read any of my other works (on my previous account) you would know that I have a knack for (and often write) corruption kink!skz lol. So this delved into that a little, because the theme of 'dumb bimbo gf' tends to go along w/ that. if you want it rewritten more specifically, lmk. ALSO - i labeled the title as a 'bimbo gf' because just saying 'dumb gf' feels a little rude i dunno lol.

warnings : NSFW CONTENT (MDNI), corruption kink! hyunjin during the NSFW headcanons, MEANDOM!Hyun, and I'm talking fucking mean. Like calling you dumb to your face mean.

Hyunjin w/ A Bimbo!GF

BF!Hyunjin who cherishes you so so much and absolutely will help you with anything you need or ask him for. He'll do your laundry if you aren't sure which button to push, will cut up veggies for soup if you don't know how to, will hand you your phone even when it's right in your back pocket.

BF!Hyunjin who thinks that it's sooooo fucking cute every time you forget something. He'll tip his head and let his hair fall in his face as he watches you fumble with your phone, forgetting how to turn on Do Not Disturb.

BF!Hyunjin who adores the way you get pouty when you forget where you put your favorite dress. He'll watch you get mumbly and all cute about it before offering to just buy you a new one - find one online and he'll go to the store to get it just for you.

BF!Hyunjin who thinks it's SO fucking cute when you walk in a room and pause, eyes glossy and lips popped apart because you can't remember why you walked in there in the first place. He'll stare with a giggly smile as you walk out, then back in, and eventually sit down with a pout as you try to remember.

BF!Hyunjin who ties your shoes for you after watching you knot your laces two different times. He'll just straight up tie them - he won't teach you how to because he thinks it's just so cute watching you forget and fumble. He wants to tie your shoes for you forever.

BF!Hyunjin who has to do the grocery shopping because you can never remember where a single thing is in the store, even if the aisles are labeled. You just go along as his pretty little arm candy.

BF!Hyunjin who doesn't let you carry cash because you count twenties like they're tens and he's not going to let you embarrass yourself in some fancy store - Just take his Black card.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who thinks your 'stupidity' adds to your sexiness in bed. He is obsessed with the way you so willingly submit yourself to him because you don't know any different and you're just too dumb to figure out how to top him.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who presses his thumb into your lower lip to pry your mouth open, murmuring about how cute you are on your knees and how you should just stay his pretty dumb bitch forever.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who hums out shit like, "Open your mouth for me. Just like that. Now sit pretty and let me fuck your throat since you can't suck me off right." And, "You're just my dumb little whore, huh? Don't know any different; Useless unless you're acting as my personal cocksleeve."

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you he's so happy you're his girlfriend - and how he knows you'd never cheat on him because you're too dumb to go out and find anyone else.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who pumps you full of his cum and then blatantly lies to you, telling you there's no chance you'll get pregnant because of some dumb reason he makes up in his head. He takes EVERY precaution afterwards to clean you up however and make sure you actually won't get pregnant, but he's going to let you believe that his cum can't get you pregnant so he can keep filling you up.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you it's totally normal for guys to share their girls with his friends just so he can have threesomes with you and the others - He knows for a fact Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin love how dumb you are, too. And you just look so pretty all confused and whimpery with their cocks stuffing all your holes.

Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who makes the effort afterwards during aftercare to assure you that he absolutely does love you, and that he doesn't really mean all of those harsh words he said to you during sex. He adores you the way you are and outside of the bedroom he really wants you to know that his love runs so deeply for you. He'll curl up from behind and wrap an arm over your waist after cleaning up, press kisses to your shoulder and hold you as tight as possible as he whispers about how one day he'll marry you and keep you safe from the word. And those mean cashiers who can count right.

[elliesonlyhoe]

Loser!ellie headcannons .ᐟ (pt. 2)

(Warnings: Some NSFW ‘nd I think that's it, lmk if I missed anything !)

Loser! Ellie who fucking loves neck kisses (and kisses in general)

Loser! Ellie who claims she's fully capable of being away from you for long periods of time yet not even 10 minutes after you walk out the door to go to work, she starts calling/texting you.

Loser! Ellie who begged you to get matching pajamas with her until you just caved and ordered them😭

“Babeee just hear me out!” Ellie whined, shoving her phone in your face which on the screen had a picture of a couple wearing these adorable matching dinosaur onesies. “Els no. I'm not wearing fucking dinosaur pajamas..” You rolled your eyes playfully, pushing her phone away “But-” “No Ellie.” You cut her off. “Y'know what, fine then.” Ellie said, turning away from you. You look at your girlfriend sighing “Ellie do not..” you say chuckling playfully, you knew when Ellie didn't get her way it resulted in her giving you the silent treatment. “For fucks sake, give me the phone.” You say trying to sound annoyed but failing. “Fuck yes!” Ellie said in excitement handing you her phone so you could purchase the pajamas

Once you placed the order you sighed seeing your girlfriend smirking at you, “You're such a dick” you tease, obviously not meaning it “I love you too~” Ellie teases back an adorable giggle of excitement escaping her lips.

Loser! Ellie who would make these adorable paper rings for the two of you :( <3 (and you would wear yours everywhere you go)

Loser! Ellie who absolutely adores physical touch, but quality time and words of affirmations and are close 2nds

Loser! Ellie who clings to you like a little koala throughout the day

Loser! Ellie who cannot stay quiet during makeout sessions for shit. (I'm talking constant whining and small breathy moans in between kisses)

Loser! Ellie who likes watching you every move, she just finds it so fucking attractive how you manage to look so cute doing literally anything

Loser! Ellie who wrote cute songs for you before you guys started dating and would play them on her guitar without you realizing that the songs were actually about YOU

Loser! Ellie who scrolls through the texts between you and her while you're at work and gets off to any and every voice note and/or photo/video you've ever sent her (She's so fucking needy I swearrr)

Loser! Ellie who would find you 10x hotter if you could speak another language🙏❤ (like don’t get me wrong she'd love you regardless but this bitch is a sucker for other languages and accents)

Loser! Ellie who 100% prefers tits over ass 

Loser! Ellie who begs to watch Jurassic Park on your movie nights (despite having watched it with you a million times.)

Loser! Ellie who can't keep her hands off of you whatsoever

You and Ellie had gone out to a restaurant of your choice for your weekly date, sure Ellie wasn't much of a restaurant typa girl but she'd do anything if it meant seeing you happy. That night you had been wearing this beautiful wine red dress that hugged your body so perfectly, Ellie couldn’t help but stare at the way the dress showed off your every curve. She swore she was in heaven, not to mention how short the dress was, she was so tempted to glide her hand across your thigh just to get a reaction out of you. You, on the other hand, didn't even need to look over at your girlfriend to know that her eyes were roaming your body. 

“Hm? Something wrong Els?” you teased as she snapped out of whatever trance your body had on her “You're just s'pretty mama.. it's unbearable..” Ellie mumbled, before starting to play with the bottom of your dress, her hands almost finding a way underneath. “Baby, not here..” you mumbled tapping Ellies hand with your own as a signal for her to move it away. “Please babe~ I'll make it quick..” Ellie whispered as she nuzzled into the nape of your neck, placing soft kisses along your supple skin. You whined quietly feeling your girlfriends tongue and lips trailing along your neck up to your ear. “Fuck it.. just be quick..” you say trying your best not to lose your composure. Ellie grins and places her hand in yours standing up and directing you to the restroom. 

Loser! Ellie who likes picking dandelions and putting them in your hair at any chance she gets

Loser! Ellie who has a playlist she listens to on the daily of songs that remind her of you

Loser! Ellie who can’t pose in pictures for shit, like you'll be standing there doing a cute lil pose for the selfie you wanted to take of the two of you while Ellie either holds up a peace sign or just awkwardly stands like “🧍‍♀️”

Loser! Ellie who tells all her friends about you and tells them all the cute things you've said or done

A/N .ᐟ : Thank you guys sm for all the love on pt.1 (like deadass I'm so grateful) so I figured I'd make a part 2!

[n3ptoonz]

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react when you ride them

this broadcast is brought to you by getting inspired from @dirtymortalkombatconfessions tysm for fueling my raunchy mind 🙏🏾 outworld guys here

all the guys here are submissive in these hcs cause i don't see it enough!!! and reader is GN

Smoke

first of all it's his favorite position. nothing he loves more than holding his partner in his arms while they have power over him at the same time

HE. WHIMPERS. A LOT!!!!

CANNOT keep his hands still he's always massaging or caressing some part of your body

begs. he begs. if you stop moving? he will deadass start tearing up and whispering pleas all in your ear

hold his face while you do it. look him in the eyes and give him praise && give him kisses 😔 he's got enough shit from bi han and this the only way he properly relaxes 💔

Raiden

he's not very vocal at first, but he does sigh and grunt a lot

when he's vocal? he's not loud, but curses up a storm. his eyes get all hazy and glossed over too like you gotta tap him back to reality sometimes

he can get handsy but prefers to either keep his hands in place or have them restrained in some way

speaking of which if you do restrain his hands there's a good chance he'll start bucking once he's close and try to pull free. silly goose, we know how to tie knots around here!

if you get really close to his face like holding it or just looking at him he can and will just start mumbling about how good you make him feel/how you're the only one who makes him feel like this

Kung Lao

(turns on self indulgence beam) ahem taps mic is this thing on??

lao is a praise kink BITCH you understand??? and since he's full of himself he for sure will not shy away from whimpering and groaning loud as hell just to hear his own voice

you give him praise and BOOM suddenly it's upturned eyebrows and beads of tears at the corners of his eyes. he will ask you to repeat what you said over and over

once his pride wears out he's a begging mess like smoke. he's super handsy but in the way where he's acting like you're gonna disappear before he nuts. i cracking up at the thought of that

afterwords "did i do good?" or "was i a good boy?" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHG hey im normal don't give me that look. ALSO PLAY WITH HIS HAIR he's a sucker for it (glad i can say that now he's not bald)(love you mk11 lao i swear)

Kenshi Takahashi

oooo this sensual romantic ass man. sensual romantic ASS man (he likes ass)

he's not a loud guy or it's just rare. his hands aren't gonna go anywhere but your ass though. MAYBE your thighs, but it's always back to ass!

less on whimpering more on grunting but there's occasional cracks in his voice when feels really good. he only full on whimpers if you go fast and gets closer faster from the pace

please for the love of god leave some sort of marks on this man's neck. it drives him CRAZYYYY he'll be cursing like he's never done before especially cause he WILL return the favor

like raiden if you give his face more love especially around his eyes it's up for him you're going to be told how perfect and how good only you can make him feel for the next 72 hours

Johnny Cage

BRAT. he's a brat. Johnny John Carlton Cage is a B R A T

you will have to physically shut him up and that was his mission accomplished. don't let his hands be free either cause he'll keep trying to take control (and keep failing every single time)(again, this was allll part of the plan)

when he's completely helpless at your disposal...bottom bitch alert! whiny whimpering grunting sighing giggling you name it CENTRAL. he the type to whine about being restricted when it was literally his own idea in the first place

he's a praise kink bitch too i mean come on THE johnny cage ik you weren't expecting otherwise. tell him he's a good boy but also call him your bitch oh how he loves it

and by the way... record. everything. he'll watch those tapes back like they're old school vhs memories

Liu Kang

how you got a god to submit to you is beyond anyone's belief. but who cares?! drain that mf (balls)

he absolutely positively loves loves LOVES eye contact. you look him in the eyes long enough it's like your souls are fuckin too (literally that scene with him and titan kitana except you're looking down at him everybodyshutthefuckup)

give him a bunch of kisses pls pls pls he craves it he adores it CARNALLY. very very handsy man there's no part of you that goes untouched.

he's too calm to be loud but he does grunt and will have dragged out moans that result in a higher pitched tone

surprise, even a god could use some praise every now and then!!! he blushes the most whenever you call him perfect or tell him he's doing great even with all that's on his plate on the daily <3

Sub Zero

this stubborn fucker. just pull his hair and give him the same look he gives everybody and he's all yours cause then he'll look like this (i cannot stop referring to this picture)

in the privacy of your shared room (idc if this is ooc this is tumblr god damn it) he's a stuttering mess and cannot keep his hands off your hips and thighs for anything so prepare for those areas to have frostbite

there are times where his hands slide up your back when he's close, and by this time his furrowed brows and sharp gaze are completely gone. he's looking up at you like you've descended just to give him the ride of his life (bc you did obviously)

if he whimpers it's raspy and deep. he generally grunts and groans and a lot of profane language coming from them lips

however comma it's rare he'll shudder and whine like a lil bitch if he can't touch you oooo and he's a bucker too

Scorpion

last but certainly not least this sexy mf. i fully fully believe that he would not hesitate to submit to someone he's in love with (you hahaha)

you don't even need to pull his hair just glide your fingers through it he's set for life. he sighs and just smiles, you're so good to him

he's not very vocal but he certainly whines and has shallower breaths when he's close. when he looks up at you he has to try his hardest not to bust right there cause damnnn you fine as hail

thigh man thigh man thigh man. oh, did i say thigh man? i meant to say HE'S A THIGH MAN. and neck, like kenshi don't even think about getting up off of him without a bunch of marks on his neck and shoulders if ya feelin freekie

if you pull his hair he will cum. and you heard that from me.

ask box is open! <3

[tootiecakes234]

First Kiss

Your first kiss with Katsuki was overwhelming…

The two of you have been friends since U.A. You’ve gotten so close over past couple years to the point where if your friends saw you they expected him not to be far behind and vice versa.

Best friends, that’s what you’ve settled with because you know Kat had 0 interest in you outside of that. You’ve seen the girls he’s hooked up with and you did not fit that type at all.

And don’t get it wrong, you loved being his best friend. He taught you stand up for yourself and you’d taught him how to speak to people with some level of respect. You guys were good together… yin and yang you liked to think

One night, you’re leaving a hangout you guys had at Mina’s place and Kat is walking you home. It was cool out that night and the moon was shining so bright you could still see the clouds in the sky. Apparently you had been gotten lost looking up at it.

“Oi, earth to y/n…. Get your ass moving. I’m exhausted and I’m ready to get home.”

When you come back to reality and look at him, he does look tired. It was almost 11:30pm and Kat had a strict bed time of 9:30…. 10 if he was feeling frisky.

“You do realize I don’t need you to walk me home. I’m a pro hero. I think I can take care of myself”

“Psh…. It’s not a criminal I’m worried about taking you out. It’s your clumsy ass coordination. You’re going to end up offing yourself if you don’t learn how to walk like an adult”

Ok so yea… maybe you had sprained your ankle last year while walking up some stairs. That’s wasn’t your fault tho… it was the stair ‘s fault.

“Are you ever gonna let that go?? Isn’t it getting a little old?”

“It still makes me laugh so nope…”

You rolled your eyes at him. He’s such a dick.

You were now walking up the same previously mentioned stairs to your apartment with Katsuki on your heels.

“ Are these the tights you were talking about the other day?? The ones that make your ass look “the best it’s ever looked””

“ Yea!!! Doesn’t it look amazing??!? I gave Mina the link while we were at her house because she mention how fantastic they looked on me”

“Sure I guess. I ain’t seen anything your ass doesn’t look good in but whatever you say”

You didn’t know what to say to that. He was just upfront like that. The man had little to no filter. Thank god you were at your door. You were unlocking it and about to go inside..

“Wait”

You turned around to look at him.

“What’s up”

“I uhm… well….”

“Come on, spit it out. I ain’t got all night”

He stared you directly in your eyes and said

“Fuck it”

Before you had time to react you were pressed up against the wall and his lips were on yours. Calling what happened a kiss seemed to be a real understatement. It was more like he was consuming you. More so than he already had. You got lost in him. Your hands were in his hair and his arms were around your waist pressing you against him.

When he pulled away you found yourself chasing his lips because you were afraid if it stopped, it might never start again.

“Next time, instead of bitching to raccoon eyes about how you don’t think you’re my type, just come straight to me dumbass. Since when do you keep secrets from me?”

You were really trying to pull your train of thought together but it was really hard when his lips still looked so inviting.

Kat realizes you’re not paying attention to him and flicks you in the forehead.

“Hey asshole. You know I hate when you do that”

“Then pull yourself together. I know I kiss like a god but that doesn’t mean you get to space out.”

He was smirking at you. Katsuki Bakugo had just kissed you and was now standing in front of you looking all suave and handsome. If you died here, you’d die a very happy person.

Your brain started playing catch and you realized something

“So you were eavesdropping on a private conversation?? And I wasn’t bitching… she was asking about you and me yet again and I was explaining to her that I didn’t think it’d ever happen”

You said the last part a little softer because you were embarrassed talking about all of this

“I wasn’t eavesdropping… it was shitty hair. Idk what you think my type is but apparently you got it all wrong”

He does not elaborate or tell you that you are his type. He just leaves it at that so you side step it

“I’m gonna kill Eiji…”

You guys sit there for a second until

“Anyways I’m tired . I’m going home to salvage the little bit of sleep I am going to get tonight. See ya later.”

And he turned to leave. Just like that.

“So that’s it… you kiss me, reveal my biggest secret and leave”

All you can do is sit there befuddled and confused.

“Yep. See ya tomorrow”

Katsuki actually leaves after that. He was not playing about his sleep. You do get a message about 10minutes later letting you know he’s home and also requesting the link to the tights you had on that night.

You ask him why he needs that and all he says is that you need them in more colors than just black… ha! You knew your ass looked good in these!

*you do not know until weeks later that in his head, that kiss was the start of y’all’s relationship. Asshole never does actually ask you but what else do you really expect from the angry Pomeranian?🤷🏾‍♀️

[chlix]

sharpest tool

bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it

genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues

a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀

“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.

“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.

“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”

You stiffen. “It’s going.”

She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.

“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”

“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”

“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.

That’s what makes this all so difficult.

The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.

“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”

Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.

“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.

Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.

Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.

Hey

Busy tonight?

Never for you <3

My place? 8?

It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.

Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.

You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.

It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.

Ok <3

You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.

You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.

You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.

“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.

“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.

“Missed you more.”

He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.

Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.

The illusion shatters.

You pull your lips away from him.

“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.

“Chan, stop.”

He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”

“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”

“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”

“Okay…”

He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”

You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.

Okay. Okay okay okay.

You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.

“You want your usual?” he asks.

“You still remember my usual?”

“I remember everything about you, love.”

You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.

When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.

“This okay?”

You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.

As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.

I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.

You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.

Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.

I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.

Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.

And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.

“How’s work?”

“It’s been alright.”

“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”

Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”

You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.

“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”

“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”

“Well what have you been watching?”

“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”

“Right. You said you were busy with work.”

He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.

You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.

When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.

“Your hair’s getting long.”

“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”

“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”

He glances at you shyly. “You think?”

“I know. You look adorable.”

“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”

“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.

“Don’t think what?”

Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.

“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”

Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”

Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”

“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”

“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.

“Okay. Whatever then.”

You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.

“Whatever?”

The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.

“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”

“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.

“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”

That same twisting in your gut starts up again.

“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”

“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”

It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.

You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.

That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.

You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”

Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.

“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”

You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.

“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.

The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.

Get well soon, girl.

You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.

“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”

“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”

Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.

“You’re sure.”

“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”

He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”

You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.

[itssliyahhxoxo]

“Calm your ass down”

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: some girl from the other team Paige is playing against decides to start problems.

You could feel her eyes on you throughout almost the whole game but you just ignored it trying not to say anything due to you being in a mood already. You watched as she said something to Paige smirking.

They both looked to you making you frown confused “what wrong” kk asked seeing the look on your face “that what I wanna know” you mumbled sitting up. You and kk both paid close attention to Paige and the girl as she talked to Paige more like shit talked

That’s one thing you hated,like what was the point at the end of the day it was all just a game.

It was halftime,Paige was breathing heavily when she sat next to you “what wrong” you asked referring to the conversation between her and the girl. “Nothing, she’s just talking shit” she smiled at you trying to keep you calm knowing you had a sort temper.

“You sure” you asked looking at the other side of the court were held eye contact with the girl she was smirking at you too making anger filled you up. Paige grabbed your hand making you look at her “calm down” she told you.

You just nodded your head moving your hand from hers, the game started again this time geno and kk sat next to you. They could feel your anger, Paige had told him what happened and asked if he could sit next to you to try and keep some peace.

But that didn’t work your eyes stayed on the girl and so did hers. you watched her mouth move as she rolled her eyes at you, you sat up moving closer to try and hear what she was saying but the only thing you heard was bitch.

So did geno and kk, their eyes snapped to you watching your every move. Kk’s hand moved to your arm “bestie don’t, for her sake don’t” kk pleaded “fuck her sake” you mumbled as the buzzer went off signaling another break.

You slowly but quickly got up snatching your arm away from kk, you pushed past everyone walking your way including Paige. “Who are you calling a bitch” you asked standing face to face with the girl “you” she replied getting In your face.

By now everyone eyes were on you, they all saw you make your way across the court and the look on your face when you did. They knew something was about to go down, you took a deep breath before replying “back the hell up”.

“Or what” she pushed. That was the last straw I mean no one couldn’t say you didn’t try, without even realizing you pushed her back hard before any damage could be done kk,nika,and ice ran over. Paige ran up behind you and picked threw you over her shoulder and walked you to to the bathroom as you hit her back trying to get down.

“Paige put me the fuck down” you yelled as she walked you too in the bathroom. She placed you down and held you by your shoulders “clam your ass down”.

“No don’t tell me to calm down, she called me a bitch for no fucking reason may I add” you yelled moving her hands off of you. “I know,I know but you need to calm before you kill someone, that someone being me” she chuckled bring you into a hug. You sighed hugging her back.

“Who knew you were that strong, you nearly dragged kk down trying to hold you back” she laughed, you along with her.

[worldlxvlys]

the fic u wrote called “use me” WAS SO GOOD OMG. you should write smth where chris is sub and the reader overstimulates him (like he cums like 6 times & he's crying & has to use there safe word) it’s kind of a similar request to the one u already did but idk maybe u could creative w it and do other stuff then like just head and riding. this is so aggressive but idc im a SLUT for sub chris & overstimulation.

pepsi

dwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: ummm this is straight filth so don’t read if you don’t want to , oral (male receiving), p in v, overstimulation, use of vibrator , use of wrist tie, use of safe word

dwb! chris masterlist

thanks for the request !! hope you like <333

I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS !!

—————

“you’re so needy tonight, baby” i said to chris, who kept rubbing his bulge against me.

“really need you to fuck the shit out of me ma” he said as planted kisses down his chest.

“you sure ? cause if you want, i can get that bitch whose hands are always on you” i said in a firm, annoyed tone.

“she’s just a customer princess, no one fucks me like you do”

“i know” i said, looking meeting his lust-filled gaze.

eagerly, we quickly helped each other out of our clothes.

“wanna try something new?” i asked, remembering that i had received a new toy in the mail earlier.

“always, baby” with that, i reached into my nightstand grabbing a vibrator and a wrist tie.

when he saw this, his eyes widened. “am i tying you up baby?” he asked.

“nope, i’m tying you up. unless you don’t want me to?”

“of course i do baby, love when you take control” with that i tied his hands together, behind his back.

“you know your safeword?” “pepsi”

“perfect, baby” i said as i gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“are you using the vibrator on yourself ma?” he asked, eagerly. i switched it on.

“nope” i said as i placed it on his tip, making him buck his hips in surprise.

“holy shit ma, fuck fuck fuck” oh he’s in for a long night.

“feel good, chris?” i asked as i moved my face closer to his dick.

“yea ma, holy fuck”

i licked a stripe up his member, watching him squirm.

“jesus baby”

“hmmm you think anyone else can make you feel this good?”

he was feeling so much pleasure, all he could get out was strangled moans.

i grabbed his dick and squeezed the base of it, never moving the vibrator from his tip.

“shit yes!” his eyes widened. “i mean no! no! no one makes me feel like you! oh my gosh”

chris was never usually this vocal, so i was eating this up.

“hmm chris, what’s wrong? can’t even think straight huh?” i asked teasingly.

i took his balls in my mouth, now moving the vibrator up and down his shaft.

“m-ma, if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum”

i briefly paused to answer, “good” and went back to work on his dick.

his hips started to sputter, and he shot out thick white ropes of cum.

without a moment of hesitation, i liked him clean.

“holy shit baby” he said, breathing heavily.

i switched the vibrator off, setting it aside and moving my face back to his cock.

i swirled my tongue around his dick, making him buck his hips up and accidentally pushing himself to the back of my throat.

“baby, baby i’m so sens-“ he cut himself off with a moan as i continued to deepthroat him.

i reached down with my free hand, and played with my clit.

his groans turned into whimpers as i began to moan against him.

“feels so, fuck,so g-good baby”

i moaned in response to his praise, and he fell over the edge again.

i gave him a chance to recover, running my hands up his thighs soothingly and leaving kisses on his abs.

“gonna ride you now” i said moving my legs on either side of him, straddling him.

i didn’t wait for a response as i lined him up with my hole and slowly lowered myself onto him.

“mmmmmm” he whined. i watched as his arms flexed while he tried to fight against his restraint.

i waited a few seconds, and started to move in circular motions loving the way his dick pressed against my walls.

“mmm hm hmmm” more whines, before i started to bounce on his dick.

“ughhhhhh chris you feel so fucking good” i said feeling his dick deep inside of me.

he didn’t last long, already pretty sensitive from his previous orgasms.

“mmmmm- cumming cumming” he whined out as he released inside me. i kept going, determined to finish.

he continued to whine and whimper, while i fucked myself on his cock. his head was thrown back, overtaken with pleasure.

“c’mon chris, know you can make it baby” i said. i was so close to my orgasm.

“fuck chris, i’m cumming baby” i said. shortly after, i released on his cock.

my own release seemed to trigger another from him, taking us both by surprise as he let out a deep moan.

“tell me baby, does anyone else make you cum this much?” he didn’t answer.

he was in a blissed out state, eyes glazed over with lust, his hair sticking to his forehead, and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

i grabbed the vibrator, turning it on quickly and placing it where his dick and my pussy met.

“i asked you a god damn question chris”

“no no no no, no one, fuck, no one else. no one else”

the vibrator was hitting my clit perfectly, and i started to rock my body into it.

“shit chris”

chris’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as tears started to fall from his eyes.

“too much, too much baby”

i started to bounce again as i kept the vibrator against my clit, getting closer and closer to another orgasm.

i clenched around him as i released all over his cock again. i then lifted myself off of him and began to jerk him off to help him finish.

his hips twitched violently and i watched him squirm as he got closer and closer.

then, finally, strings of cum shot out of his dick. the more i pumped, the more cum flew out. i was milking him dry.

“OK OK! PEPSI PEPSI!” he yelled.

immediately, i let go of him and untied his wrists.

“shit baby, are you ok?” i asked, becoming concerned.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry chris”

he then cupped my face. “it’s ok baby, no need to apologize. that was hot as fuck, i just didn’t know if you were ever gonna stop”

“i don’t know if i was either, honestly” we both laughed.

i gave him a kiss to the forehead, “i’m gonna go run you a bath, baby” i said.

“thanks ma”

—————

…….heyyyy

idek what to say.

i need holy water.

can you tell i love sub! chris ?

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn

[thereticx]

ᎠᏆᏙϴᎡᏟᎬ́Ꭼ

♰Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

♰Warnings: toxicity(all characters), smoking, drinking, sexual content, cheating, home wrecking, infidelity

♰Author's Note: Geto is such a beautiful character and I desperately wanted to write about him since I have read every fic possible.

“What would your poor wife think if she saw you fucking with me?”

“You mean ex wife”

“Whatever”

He didn't remember when the chase first started. It might've been on the celebration of his fourth year as a married man or maybe–at your father's monthly dinner with family friends.

There, he first noticed the daggers his dear wife shot at you. She tried to play it cool, saying that you're only there for the show and that you're too young to understand any of the talks at the table.

Geto reassured her like always, with a kiss and a good fuck right after. He chanted over and over again ‘you’re the only one’-a truth that'll soon turn into a good for nothing lie.

“It's just in your head”

“No it's not. She's staring at you whenever we’re over at their house. I don't like her. She's bad news”

Geto chuckled, stroking her jaw with his fingers. He gently kissed her lips before lowering his hand to squeeze her naked thigh “Do you hear yourself?She's like twenty. No need to worry over a college girl”. His wife smiled, almost relieved. She wanted to believe her husband, but something deep down told her no to–that that college girl wanted what's hers–you wanted him,Geto.

The man tucked his bangs away from his face and bowed down, sucking at the delicate skin of her neck.

”Fuck,he is hot” One of your friends pointed out, zooming over the picture you just showed her. Her manicured nails danced over the screen carefully, analyzing every detail the picture showed.

”Yes, he is. Although his wife is kind of a bitch” Mumbling under your breath you continued playing with your lighter ”Why?”

You huffed, searching into your bag for something that might cool you off. The pack was almost empty even though you bought it in the morning ”Want one?” She smirked, making herself more comfortable on the kitchen counter ”Sure. Now, tell me. What is this wife of his like?”

Taking a drag of the cigarette you responded ”Insecure. She keeps watching my every move when they're over for dinner. And whenever I speak she just starts snorting” Venting to your friend about your problems wasn't exactly on your to do list. Only when your father called you asking you to make yourself busy and not attend dinner tonight, you freaked out.

”She told your father?For what?Can't she just talk to you like a normal person?”

”Apparently not. She just made my dad uninvite me to a dinner hosted by my own family” The call was a short one, your dad explaining that maybe it'll be for the best if you make yourself busy and skip this time. However, he accidentally slipped out and mentioned that Mrs. Geto did not feel comfortable around you.

”Damn. Maybe you should give her something to be really uncomfortable about”

Blowing the smoke out you put out the cigarette in the ashtray ”Maybe I should"

She was furious. Seeing you in a corner with her husband, chatting some nonsense.

”Your tattoos really suit you” He smiled at the compliment, taking another sip of his drink. Geto wasn't much of a talker, preferring the idea of just listening. Surprisingly enough, he liked talking to you. You were a good company, despite his wifes words. Perhaps you spend a little too long staring at his lips, trying to play it cool like it was nothing. However, he found himself staring at your exposed chest as well. The dress was awfully tight and maybe a little too revealing.

”What?You don't have any?” Geto asked, supporting his weight on the side of the counter.

Shaking your head you pursued ”No no, I do. Only in more private places”

”Oh”

”Unfortunately I can't show you. Your wife is already up my trail for some reason. I don't want to add fuel to the fire”

Geto bit the inside of his cheek, feeling ashamed for some reason. He fidgeted with his now empty glass without looking at you ”I don't blame her. Her husband is quite charming” You admitted while grabbing your jacket ”If you'll excuse me, I'm going for a smoke. The place is already too crowded for my liking”

Geto scanned your body as you left, the fabric of the black dress riding up as you stepped away from the room. Blinking rapidly, he moved his attention to the table where his wife was, she, sporting a look of pure anger and jealousy. He was fucked.

”Yeah-right there….” His hips buckled up faster, fucking into his wife cunt at a brutal pace.

She yelled his ear off in the car and in the lift, talking nonstop about you shamelessly flirting with him. And, to avoid another cold night on the couch he did what he always did.

”Ffuck-” He groaned, chasing the euphoric sense of release for the third time that night. Geto was tired, yet desperate to make his wife happy again. He wanted to prove himself as loyal and caring, the perfect husband who loves no one else but the one underneath him.

She clinged to his bicep, her walls squeezing him painfully. She was close, he could tell ”Give it to me” He demanded, circling his thumb over her clit, her body surrendering under the massive amount of pleasure.

When she came undone, Geto pulled out, his dick still painfully hard. Something was wrong. For the first time in years he used his hand to get rid of the erection between his legs. The water was hot, the windows becoming foggy as Geto jerked himself off. His eyes were closed, a figure coming to his mind. A figure much younger than him, a woman of twenty years of age, one that he imagined kissing, moaning his name, shaking while he held her.

You wished nothing more than the feeling of guilt to disappear. Two weeks after that conversation you had with Geto, the world seemed to shift around you. Punishing you for going after a married man. You only wanted to spite his wife, nothing more. Yes, you found Geto attractive as hell but that ring he wore put a label on him as unavailable.

Two weeks after that damned conversation, you ran onto him a few times. It was only just innocent talking and a little bit of lingering sights. You two laughed, getting along surprisingly well. Geto understood you like no other. He was patient, listening to you for hours, while the ashtray filled up with cigarettes.

He desperately wanted to taste the nicotine off your tongue and rip your clothes to see where you were inked.

”Maybe you should go. Your wife is probably going mad you're not home already”. Truth be told, you didn't want him to go. His presence started to grow on you.

Geto pressed his lips together, the ring on his bottom lip making itself noticeable to you “How can I only see your lip piercing now?”

“I have had it since I was about your age, although my wife is not very fond of it. Says it's past my time”

You chuckled softly. Was his wife blind? He looked perfect. With long black hair, gorgeous dark eyes and those lips with that piercing. Geto was utterly dreamy “She's wrong. It suits you. You look…hot”

Now it was his turn to laugh. He ran his hand through his hair, silky strands falling on his broad shoulders. Geto felt a strange sense of warmth, more like a desire–that's how he knew it was time to leave.

He quickly got in the car, sparring you no glance as he drove off. Was it wrong to openly admit that he was attractive? Was that the reason why he ran away? Next time you'd think twice before doing something like that again.

You cleaned up after you two and entered the house. No one was there beside you. The rooms were all dark, a pregnant silence engulfing the whole place. This way you liked it better-when it was just you with your thoughts, no one to question you or distract you.

No, your family was by no means a source of annoyance-you just grew to love being all by yourself or..used to.

I should apologize

And that's what you did as soon as you saw him again.

After a rough and tiring day of classes and assignments you decided to treat yourself and go shopping. Who knows?You might be lucky.

Seeing Geto walk around the shop, almost lost, made you sympathetic, so you approached him with a smile. He was looking at some dresses, inspecting them carefully ”What's the occasion?”

He licked his bottom lip and said ”On Sunday we're having a party. It's my wife's birthday . I wanna treat her with something”.

For some unknown reason, your heart became heavy. You hated how much he cared about her. How he was always trying to make her happy and accomplished. It's honestly a pity how she treated him till this very moment.

That bitch doesn't deserve him

”I have some kind of experience in this department. I can help you if you want”

”Thank you”

Two hours later and you were still shopping, only at a different store. You showed him some good examples, dresses that were sexy and yet simple. If it were you–the more the better.

”What about this one?” You showed him a long dress with a slit and the perfect cleavage cut. It was a darker shade of red, almost a wine color–a seductive one.

He scanned the piece for a moment before touching the material ”I think this is it. Will it fit her?”

”I can try it on if you don't mind. We are quite similar in size….I think” You were hopeful that he'll agree. It's only a dress after all. You weren't trying to impress him–no. Definitely not.

Geto looked hesitant but still, he really wanted the dress to fit. This could help ”Yeah.Sure.Ill wait on the couch”

You were excited, entering the changing room as fast as you could.

”So, what do you think?” You asked, sitting there, in front of him. He looked up from his phone and his eyes fixated on your pretty figure. The dress was almost like a second skin, resting on your body effortlessly. Geto didn't even realize he was staring at you before you pointed it out ”Geto, what's the verdict?”

The man stood up and got closer to you, closer than usual ”You are beautiful–I mean it's beautiful..Yeah”

His words made you blush ”Actually it's kinda tight here–”You gestured to your chest ”But I don't think it will be a problem for her” Geto nodded before taking his wallet out.

”It was a pain to zip it up. Can you help me?” You batted your eyelashes innocently at him, taking his hand in yours. He bit the inside of his cheek and allowed to be dragged into the dressing room by you.

Staring in the mirror, you felt his fingers unzip the dress with no effort, his fingers lingering on your back a bit more ”You think you're smart. Don't you?” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against his chest ”Finding this lame excuse only to be undressed by me. Desperate girl” Geto kissed your shoulder, dragging the fabric further down with no warning.

Your chest was exposed, along with a small piece of ink under your left breast ”And that's one..” He whispered, folding your tits, while he dropped the dress to the floor.

You saw him lower his hand, tracing your belly, to your pelvis where the second tattoo was revealed and then pressed on your clothed core.

You sucked in a breath when Geto dragged your panties down until they rested around your thighs ”I don't want to hear a sound from you or you're not getting dicked down”

He sank three of his fingers in your cunt, the stretch making your legs quiver. The ache was painful as he didn't have the patience to prep you before. Geto started to finger you rapidly, pushing your body towards the mirror, your breasts getting mushed. You tried to control your moans, truly but something about the way he moved his digits made you lose your mind. A broken moan escaped your lips and as soon as it did, Geto pulled out ”What did I tell you? Gues you'll have to cum by yourself”

”B-but you can't leave me like this. Im sorry-”

He exhaled before getting down on his knees ”Spread your legs”

God…he was disgusting

What a beautiful sight that was….with you on his bed–in the same bed he shared countless nights with his wife. How is he gonna fix this?

You shifted on the bed, your face hiding in the pillow. Geto, no matter how much guilt stabbed at his conscience, he couldn't resist but to place his cold lips on your naked back, breathing for a short second the scent of the woman who now was all he thought about.

”Its cold”

Geto smiled, kissing your shoulder and playing with your hair ”Hmmm..” He sneaked his arm around your waist, holding you close to his chest. The butterflies in his chest made him uneasy. Geto had no intention to screw around with you, definitely not to catch feelings for you either. But it happened.

”She's gonna be home in an hour. I think it's best if you go” His words struck you directly in the heart. Although you were aware of the place you found yourself having sex and with who–you still dreamed of a possibility that it was you who bore his last name, not her. Yet, you were the intruder, the homewrecker, the bitch, the whore who chose to destroy a happy marriage and to fuck the husband of another woman.

Geto's wet kiss on your jaw brought you back from dreamland ”C'mon. I'll help you”

You pulled away from him and got up ”No need. I can handle it”

”Don't get mad. What do you want me to do?”

”For starters, you could stop treating me like a simple hook up that you just send home after” You argued, angrily putting back your clothes. He stayed there, stunned, contemplating what to say next.

He grabbed you by the hips and glued his lips to your tattoo ”You are not a hookup. I'm sorry if that came out wrong. But she can't catch us like this. She's still my wife”

Tears started to gather in your waterline, avoiding his touch you put on your jacket and grabbed your phone ”She is your wife…Yeah right. And what am I exactly?To you?!”

”My love”

”Well, it doesn't feel like it”

Three weeks and you still avoided him. No text, no calls, nothing. The fight you had with Geto left you with no choice but to reflect on your relationship–if you can call it that.

Six months of sneaking around, of lies, and hot showers where you would aggressively rub at your skin until red painful marks would be visible. You needed to be cleansed of your sin and you needed closure.

The water had long got cold in the tub. The wine bottle was almost empty as you poured another glass. Your eyes were puffy and your skin had wrinkled.

A mess..that's what you were. A mess you created

The number was already dialed, you only had to press the call button.

”Take it like a good girl” He groaned, pinning her down.

His wife held onto him for dear life as he fucked his dick into her cunt relentlessly . She knew something was bothering him but the way he expressed this anger did not annoy her at all. She enjoyed it.

”Baby baby–faster please” She moaned, meeting his harsh thrusts. Geto manhandled her as he pleased. Smashing her face in the pillow–the same one you last rested.

His hair tickled his hip bones as the black strands got longer and longer ”Fucking greedy–” The heat was unbearable, his orgasm approaching. Geto emptied himself inside his wife, allowing himself a few until he calmed down.

She felt him pull out, his cum dripping down her thighs. She turned around to face him, her belly barely noticeable ”What's bothering you?”

”Nothing” He stroked her cheek ”It's nothing”.

”You sure?” She pressed on.

Geto let out a fake laugh, his fingers grazing her tummy ”Hope I didn't disturb the little one”

She reached up for him, settling on his lap, locking her lips with his in a wet kiss ”You were quite rough–I love it”

As they kept on kissing, swirling their tongues together her phone rang ”Don't pull away”

She smirked before leaning back to get her phone ”I'll cut them short”

”Yes?”

The world went dull, quiet. The wine was spilled on the bathroom floor, mixing with the bubbled water.

Your head was thrown back, your eyes closed, smiling to yourself as you listened to the screams on the other side.

What a beautiful mess you created.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I loved Worship but it got me thinking about like what if someone kept calling her mean stuff during the show and just boys reacting to their girl getting slandered tnx

Guess who got carried away? 😂 I love it guys, thank you for popping into my ask. I really love seeing your ideas!🤍✨

Sleep token x reader

For the record

It’s the usual shenanigans that get the show going. Considering that everyone was in a good mood tonight was already labeled to be a solid night. It always felt the best like this. When everyone was fully relaxed and enjoying themselves. You had lingered back with IV before the show, too lost in bickering until it was him messily making sure that your headset was on before someone thrust his guitar into his hands. A little wink. A little nudge. And it was back to the place you had grown to love. Crave deep within your soul.

It’s behind II that you sing some of your most beautiful solos. Finding your way up on his seat while his hands go up and down your thighs. Mostly trying to make sure that you don’t fall back but enough to seem that he’s more than happy to sit between your thighs while you stand above him. It’s the fleeting kisses that you keep sharing with IV tonight. One after another, every time you pass by. Till it’s almost funny when he’s right in front of you. Pretending as if it’s an unexpected bump in. It’s Vessel that you fall to your knees to and he’s more than happy to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in only to push your face to the side. Making you fake fallback as you lay your limp there for a couple of beats. Enjoying the roar of the crowd. III manages to trap you in between his guitar and you as you both swing to the beat. Your fingers trailing up and down his thighs.

But it was the odd eyes that you kept on landing on. First row. Right in front of you. Ones that made you sick to your stomach. Ones that you tried to avoid. But you kept on coming and coming back. And it’s when you come towards the edge of the stage to sing yet another part of your siren song that you hear it. “Cheep Whore”, “Band filth”, “Shared bitch”. Rolling in and in. With more and more people turning their heads towards the people screaming at the tops of their lungs.

And it’s as if the words had scorched you. You find yourself backing away. Till you hit something solid and warm. A hand coming to steady you. But you pull back just as fast. Turnning to find a pissed-looking Vess. “Keep going”, your mouth, letting yourself trail your gaze over the rest of the band. Only to find another three pissed faces. You grab Vessel’s hand, pulling him closer, “Do the rest of the show the way it was supposed to be”, you begged, “Leave it and keep going. They will follow”.

A wave of relief washes over you as he steps away. Continuing the next song. III blazing eyes are the next thing you see but you just shake your head at him. Even if the poor pick gets thrown across the stage and not in a nice way. But they stick through. Faces tight. The atmosphere off. The magic faded. The feeling was lost. You stick to the furthest part of the sage, doing your parts as if glued to it. The moment the last sounds of the cords fade, you’re turning onto your heel, diving backstage.

You feel stupid almost, that something that was going on in comments and posts for some time now had finally made you slip up. Cause you didn’t care. Not really…. right? “Y/N”, a bang sounded at the door making you flinch, “You in here?”. A part of you wants to keep quiet. Let this fade into the back too. But you hear the commotion, not enough to understand what the bickering is about, before a much louder banging ring through the quiet space. “Open the door”, IV's voice is much more strict than II’s. The agitation oozed out. “I am taking my makeup off”, your voice cracks, and your silent scream into the void within because you know that they would have heard it. “You take it off in the bus while we drink, don’t start bullshiting me now”, IV rattles the hand and you suddenly start to wonder how long it would take for him to break the door.

“Look”, II cuts in, “I get it, you want to be by yourself but we kind of got a situation going on with III”, and it’s enough to make you step closer to the door. Because you care about them and if III is flying off the handle it would be your fault. “What happened?”, you mutter, pressing your face against the door. You’re met with silence but it’s enough for you to know that they are looking at one another now, silently debating their next words.

“Jumped off stage and took off towards the pit”, and that’s enough for you to yank the door open. You just don’t get to go as far as two pairs of hands pulling you back. “Come here”, you hear IV mutter before you were met with II's embraces. The warmth of him cutting deep through you. Making your eyes sting. Yet you pushed back, trying to escape them both. “Let me go, let me talk to him”, you wheezed. “It’s taken care of”, IV cut in, “He’s backstage somewhere, you don’t need to worry”.

You looked up at them, “You tricked me, idiots”. IV reached to catch your face, “You ran off, locked yourself in a fucking bathroom. What do you expect that we baked you cookies?”. “IV”, II hissed, “What he was trying to say is that we care for you and that shit on the stage shouldn’t have happened”. You fist II shirts, trying to keep your composure, “I don’t care and don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it”, you sighed in frustration. You needed out, or you would cry and you hadn’t yet done that in front of the boys.

“This is a mutual choice”, Vessel’s voice fills the space, “If we mess around, we mess around together. One of us having to take shit for it is bullshit”. And that’s when you see him. Rubbing his left hand’s chuckles. Your whole body drains from your body. “You punched him didn’t you?”, you mutter, already thinking of all the articles. And what for? After all the years of staying out of bad PR. Your legs move on their own accord and with a couple of steps you are wrapped up in III’s arms. “For the record, I missed”, he grunts. And that’s the thing that snaps the last bit. A strange strangled noise leaves your lips before you can clap a hand over your mouth. The look in III eyes shifts, “I would go back there, just saying”, he mutters before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.

“I need Chinese tonight”, II throws it out in the open. Making the salty stream of tears down your cheeks feel less pathetic in a way, as everyone snorts in their toes. “I call dibs for the bus bed tonight”, Vess points out and it’s as if nothing had happened. The same dynamic between you five talking is usually formed. “You’ve slept there for the last two stops”, III is quick to remind him, yet his eyes are still on you. Quietly assessing the real damage. “And before you say it, you aren’t special because you’re long and skinny”, Vess simply flips III off before the room is once again filled with laughter. You feel soft hands brushing against your chin before your head is gently nudged upwards. Meeting IV eyes within a blink. “Head up, little siren”, he muses, brushing the tears off your cheeks, “Can’t have you loosing your spark”. You nod tightly, trying to not let another wave of emotions cloud your eyes. “For the record, I would eat you out”, III shrugs, making the rest of them chorus his name with curses following right after.

[zerokurokawa]

Can I request rindou with a introverted reader who hates rindou? Like a enemies to lovers? Thank you!!

Unwritten | Rindou x Introverted!Reader <3

You were constantly being dragged to Tenjiku meetings due to your best friend dating Shion Madarame. She was forced to go, therefore, you were too. 

"You have to suffer with me," Your best friend would say, "If I have to go to these unbearable meetings, you do too." She smirked as she got out off the back of Shion's bike. You had rode by yourself, meaning you could just leave at any point. But instead, you stayed because you didn't want to make your best friend mad. You didn't even mind the meetings so much, you just minded having to be around him. 

Rindou Haitani was always bothering you in some sort of way. Whether it be teasing you about having your nose stuck in your phone, or just plain out talking to you about nonsense, he annoyed you. He would also pick fights with you, constantly belittling you and how you act. 

As soon as you stepped out of your car, he gave you a glare as if he didn't expect you to be there in the first place. You ignored this, barging through the warehouse doors and finding a comfortable spot to sit while the meeting began. It wasn't until after the meeting that he had began to walk over to you, arms crossed with a sly smile on his face. 

"You again, huh?" He asked, kicking your shoe with his boot, trying to get your attention. You ignored him, scrolling through your phone. 

"You not gonna answer me?" He nudged you again. 

"Rindou, just fuck off already." You said, not looking up from your phone. You had a feeling about Rindou and his ulterior motives when it came to you. You had a feeling that he either hated your guts and wanted you gone completely, or he liked you and this was his way of flirting. 

"Fuck off? Nah, I'd rather sit here and keep bugging you." He smirked, sitting down next to you. 

"What do you even want from me?" You asked, looking up from your phone. 

"I just wanna know why you always come to these meetings, yet, you have nothing to do with Tenjiku. I don't like it." 

"I come because my best friend is with Shion, one of the big four. She doesn't wanna sit here alone so I come with her." You looked over at him to see him with a slight smile on his face. It was devious smile, one that would cause shivers to go down anybody's spine. 

"So you're telling me you just sit here and ignore everybody while she goes around and talks? You could at least be more involved." He began to get up. God, you hated his guts. Hoping he would leave you alone, he did the exact opposite. He nudged your foot again and held out his hand. Cautiously, you took it and he helped you stand up from the corner you were sitting in. 

"I just come to come, I guess." You said, standing up. You noted the height difference between you two as you stood next to him. You for sure wasn't scared of him and you know he fought dirty, however, you didn't think anything of it when it came to you. 

"Well, maybe instead of being stuck up, you could congregate with someone." He said in a snarky tone. 

"I'm not stuck up, I'm just a little shy. That's all." You snapped back at him. 

"Oh..." He said, a little taken back by your sudden explanation and response. 

You didn't say anything else before walking off, leaving him behind. He began to follow you outside though, wanting to finish the conversation you two were having. 

"Hey!" You heard him call before opening your car door, "I'm sorry for assuming you were a stuck up bitch. I didn't know you were just shy." 

"It's fine, honestly..." You trailed off. 

"It's not, and I'm sorry. I'd like to get to know you and introduce you to more people so that way you won't feel so alone." He smiled sweetly. In that moment, you actually thought to yourself about how Rindou Haitani could possibly be bearable to be around. 

"Okay... then we can start by you not being a total asshole to me anymore." You replied. He nodded his head in response and pulled out his phone. 

"Here, lemme get your number and we can start from there." He said, rather confidently. Rindou had the good looks, charisma, and was smooth with his words. You ended up giving in and letting him have your number. 

"I guess just text me whenever." You gave him a small smile. He nodded and smiled back. 

Before you knew it, you were on your way home when your phone buzzed from a text. It was Rindou just saying "hey". You two began to talk and stayed up all night, getting to know each other. 

The rest was unwritten. 

(A/N: Wrote this really late at night, I have to get some sleep because i'm sleep deprived. I hope you enjoy!)

[theragethatisdesire]

cabin in the woods - eren x reader x jean - 18+!!!

part three of our polyverse woo! i wanted to write something intense for spooky season, but not like, a slasher fic, and you know eren would have the biggest primal play kink ever so here we are. the besties have been in their little poly relationship for a year and this is their anniversary trip <3 (and they're just so cute i need to put them in my pocket). enjoy what @fictional-d-supremacy and i came up with and....i don't even know what else to say. i love this one, prob in my top 3 of all time, i just love poly!erejean <3

pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein

wc: 9.5k (good lord)

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

*deep breath* CWs: primal play (for some people, it may read as dubcon, so please familiarize yourself with what this means, you are responsible for your triggers!), consensual sex, established relationship, use of names (pet, baby, angel, princess, slut, bitch), breeding kink, biting, fingering, oral sex (fem and male receiving), anal play, anal sex, double penetration, mlm (eren and jean are in an established relationship and kiss at one point), degradation, objectification, multiple orgasm, threesome, bi!eren, bi!jean, dirty talk, creampie, polyamory

OKAY now that that's out of the way.....have fun babies!

-

There’s something about the crisp autumn breeze drifting in through the open windows, twisting through Jean’s Jeep with the same rhythm as the car itself winding up the side of the mountain, that sends a vicious shudder down your spine. You try to roll your window up to fight the chill, but Eren whines from behind you and thuds a heavy boot against your seat in protest.

“You said if I let you have shotgun, we could keep the windows down the whole time.”

“It’s freezing!”

“But I get carsick,” Eren grumbles, glaring at you in the rearview mirror. Jean sighs in a tone that sounds a lot like exasperation, reaching over to turn your heated seat on.

“Better?”

“A little,” you smile softly at him, laying your palm over the warm hand he rests on your knee, “are we almost there?”

“It’s just around this corner,” Jean assures you, hazel eyes flitting back over to the gravelly, curving road. You take a moment to admire him: strong brow, regal, elegant nose, pouty lips that you know to be soft from experience. The simple knowledge that Jean is yours, yours to kiss and touch whenever you want, is enough to send a thrill through you. Your moment of adoration is cut short by Eren throwing his arms over the seat, digging his hands into your shoulders in a rough massage.

“You’re going to love this place, babe,” Eren says behind your ear. The buzzy excitement thrumming through his voice makes a small grin tug at the corner of your mouth; Eren’s moods are contagious more often than not, and he’s been miraculously cheerful all day. “Mama Kirschstein’s got the hook-up.”

“You’re still calling her that?” Jean rolls his eyes, “she’s been telling you to call her Jane for the last eight years.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t mind us coming up?” You eye Jean nervously, reaching up to squeeze one of Eren’s larger hands for reassurance. “I know she had a bit of trouble, y’know…”

“When I told her it was our anniversary, she offered us the house for the weekend. I didn’t even ask,” Jean veers left onto a narrow dirt path, “I know it took her a minute to come around, but she adores you now. I promise.”

“She’s always adored me,” Eren adds unhelpfully, ruffling your beanie and consequently wrecking your hair, “but I guess she was able to find room in her heart for the both of us.”

“Eren, stop it– ugh, thank you. What has got you in such a good mood?” You turn over your shoulder to look at him, practically brimming with energy. Eren’s always despised road trips, yet he’s been the picture of eagerness all day.

“Just excited to spend some time alone in the woods with my two favorite people, what’s so wrong with that?” Eren grins widely at you, sharp canines glinting in the early afternoon light. Something about his smile seems…not insincere, more like overly sincere. It’s not at all out of the realm of possibility for Eren to have some grandiose, ridiculous surprise waiting for you in his suitcase, or for him to simply be bouncing out of his seat in anticipation of all the weekend away, anniversary sex you’re about to have. You chalk it up to one or the other, ignoring the strangely stern look Jean shoots him.

“Oh my god!” You cover your mouth to muffle the excited squeal that comes creeping up your throat upon sight of the cabin. The “cabin” turns out to be an isolated, sprawling home with several wings, beautiful beyond your wildest dreams. Massive slabs of stone make up the columns supporting an overhang that covers a ten-foot-tall door, the garden beds on either side of the walkway have been manicured to perfection, and there’s a winding stone path that leads to the back of the house through a covered walkway that connects the main house to the garage. It’s practically been ripped out of Architectural Digest. “It’s like it’s not even real.”

“Kirschstein money always gets the panties dropping,” Eren scoffs, practically kicking his door open the moment the car rolls to a stop, “I forgot how nice this place was.”

“Shut up,” Jean grumbles, rolling his eyes at Eren before setting his adoring gaze on you, “you like it, princess?”

“I love it,” you gush, jumping out of the car to get a better look, bag forgotten in the trunk. You can hear the boys bickering about luggage somewhere behind you, but all you can focus on is the vast nothingness around you, the sleepy chirping of cicadas in the trees, and the warmly lit home that belongs to you and your two gorgeous boyfriends for the weekend. Who says no one ever had it all?

“Are you excited?” Eren comes charging up behind you, arms encircling your waist and lips pecking every square inch of your neck he can reach.

“I’m so excited,” you giggle, shoving him off so that you can run to Jean and throw your arms around his shoulders, “thank you both so much—oh, we have to call your mom and thank her! Can we? Please?”

“In a bit,” Jean chuckles, scooping you up into his arms so you can wrap your legs around his waist, “don’t you want to see the inside first?”

“Yes–”

“I don’t know, Jean,” Eren saunters over, something mischievous flitting over his face that, if you were any less drunk on raw excitement, you would know immediately not to trust, “she may want to get a look at the woods before the sun goes down. What do you say, baby? Wanna go for a hike?”

“Eren,” Jean says, a very thin note of hesitation in his tone that you, in your giddiness, stampede right over.

“Just a quick one, Jean? Is that alright?”

“However long you want, angel,” Eren answers for Jean and smiles at you charmingly, entirely ignoring Jean’s widened eyes.

“Let’s do that,” you whip your wide, happy eyes back to Jean, a pleading grin on your face, “and then you can give me a tour of the inside. I just want to get a few Instagram pictures before we end up not putting clothes on again for the entire weekend.”

Jean smiles at you, some odd combination of endearment and something darker that you can’t quite make out—pity?—crossing his face. “Anything you want. Drop the bags on the porch, Eren? I’ll take her out back.”

Eren’s grin grows impossibly wider, a little glint in his eye. “Be right there.”

After your awkward, giggle-filled struggle to monkey-climb from Jean’s front onto his back without dropping to the ground, Jean, arms hooked firmly under your legs, walks you around the house, identifying little points of interest as he goes. He points out his childhood rope swing, tattered and still dangling from one of the massive oaks in the front yard, a few flower bushes that he remembers helping his mom plant. You can feel the swell of your heart in your chest as Jean walks you through his memories, snorting to himself when he recounts the tale of Eren nearly choking to death trying to hold his breath in the hot tub and growing misty-eyed when he points out his grandparents’ initials carved into a wooden bench in the garden.

You reach a point of the property where the meticulously groomed grass gives way to fallen leaves and patches of barren earth, a visible line between civilization and nature. A small wriggle from you lets Jean know you’re ready to hop down, and he bends at the knee slightly so you can slide off of his back.

“It really is a beautiful property,” you tell him earnestly, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing us here.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Jean, in that heartbreaking way of his, looks down at you like you’re the only thing he could ever want for, “you know that.”

“Still. Thank you.” You have to consciously focus on your breathing; you wonder if Jean knows he has this effect on people, if he knows that the way raw love lays itself bare in his eyes chokes whoever’s in his line of sight.

“It’s as much a gift for me as it is for you,” Jean leans down to nip at your ear, two large hands finding their way around your waist, “I’ve got you both away from work, out in the middle of nowhere, all to myself…”

“Jean!” It comes out as a clunky, airy giggle, half of the letters still jumbled in your throat where the breath is caught. He smirks against your neck, sinking his teeth in here, licking over a sore patch of skin there. The mountain breeze follows in his wake, kissing over the wet spots he leaves behind and raising goosebumps on the back of your neck.

“Getting started without me?” Eren’s voice startles you, makes you jump in Jean’s grip. Jean responds to your flightiness by spinning you on your heels and pressing your back to his chest, arms locked firmly under your breasts and head tucked onto your shoulder.

“We were waiting for you,” you answer, letting your eyes graze over Eren appreciatively as he approaches. As long as you’ve known him, autumn has always looked good on Eren. Something about the decaying colors around him makes his eyes that much more vibrant, the glow of them in the late afternoon sun almost reminding you of a predator at night, tucked behind bushes. Big cozy flannels only make his frame look broader, and the curl of his grown-out bangs around his pink ears makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

“Didn’t look like you were waiting,” Eren eyes Jean in annoyance, but the curl of his lip gives him away.

“She’s still here, isn’t she?” Jean counters, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Where else would I be?” You laugh, shoving him back from you. Eren and Jean’s eyes meet, some dangerous, tangible glimmer passing between them. “What?”

“Nothing, angel,” Eren whistles, spinning you around yet again and locking your shoulders underneath his arm, beginning to walk you into the woods, “don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m not worried,” you roll your eyes, letting him drag you further into the forest, “you guys are just being weird.”

“Are we?” Jean’s arm comes sneaking around your waist, “I don’t think we are. Do you, Eren?”

“Not at all,” Eren shrugs, pulling out his phone, “looks like we still have two hours til sunset. That seems like enough time for a hike, don’t you think, Jean?”

“Oh, that’s definitely enough time.”

You tilt your head up, a slight scowl indenting your forehead, flitting your eyes between the two of them. They’re hardly paying attention to you, staring at each other in a way that you’re not unfamiliar with. That explains the oddities of their behavior today; typical boys, just excited to jump into bed later. You barely contain another eye roll, instead opting to let them have their teasing fun and focus on the grandiosity of the forest around you.

The canopy is tall, taller than you would have expected; it feels like the dwindling population of leaves above your head is in a different world than the crunch of their fallen comrades under your feet. That pesky breeze is still there, keeping your nerve endings jumpy with the ever-present chill, but the warmth of the colors around you almost makes up for it. Everywhere you look seems to be on fire, yellows and oranges and reds blending the landscape together into a closer approximation to an abstract painting than a scene out of nature.

Easily half an hour ticks by as you stroll, all three of you having fallen into a comfortable, contemplative silence. You don’t miss the way Eren’s hand will occasionally drift from your shoulder to the back of your neck, ghosting over the skin and running through the baby hairs there, making you shiver. Jean follows suit, his arm around your waist slipping a bit low once in a while, palm cupping your ass and squeezing appreciatively. You ignore them both in favor of taking advantage of the beautiful scenery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t affecting you. That familiar warmth curls in your stomach, molten and hungry, and the tips of your fingers twitch in your pockets, aching to replace the fabric that surrounds them with skin.

Eventually, you all reach a picturesque clearing with a gorgeous overhang, and you see your opportunity.

“Wait, stop right here,” you finally break the silence, squirming in the boys’ arms to snag your phone out of your back pocket, “this is perfect.”

“Instagram time?” Jean tries and fails to keep the bored tone out of his voice.

“We only have, like, five pictures together, and we’ve been together for over a year.”

“That’s not true,” Eren protests, “I have an album full–”

“How many of those pictures are share-able?” You cock a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Um, probably like…two.”

“My point exactly.”

Through a bit of manhandling and arguing over who should hold the phone, you make out with at least three usable selfies (the boys refused to entertain your self-timer idea), which far exceeds the amount of photos you expected to leave this trip with.

“Why don’t you let us take a few of just you?” Jean suggests, reaching for your phone with an honest smile and giving Eren a subtle nudge.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Eren jumps in, nodding and smiling along, “a few pictures of our pretty girl out in the woods on our special trip.”

“And it would be cute for your Instagram, right?” Jean adds, patting you lightly on the bottom.

“Okay,” you agree, too thrilled at their sudden interest in your quest for a nice Instagram post to think too much into the way Eren’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip, the way Jean’s holding your phone so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“Just walk out that way, there you go.” You can hear Jean’s voice, with a strange little tremor to it, growing quieter behind you when Eren ushers you off in the opposite direction. You leave your phone with Jean, alternating between a little jog and a walk away from them, moving further into the clearing and keeping your back to the boys.

“Was that cute, or stupid?”

Your nervous giggle echoes in the clearing, the rustling of leaves the only answer you receive. You make a few different poses, feeling a little silly but willing to endure it in the interest of getting a couple of nice photos. You notice the distinct lack of sound around you, how for just a moment, it feels like the universe consists of just you, Eren, and Jean, alone in these woods and miles from any other human. It hits you that that’s not entirely untrue; the last house you’d seen had to have been fifteen minutes before you’d gotten to Jean’s driveway.

You call back to them, wanting at least a little feedback and, honestly, beginning to feel a bit creeped out by the uncharacteristic silence ringing in your ears. “Are they turning out good?”

Nothing.

“What the hell?” you finally whip back around to face them, stomping your foot petulantly, “are you two like, messing with me?”

When you turn to meet them, however, all the fire in your throat dies out as quickly as if a bucket of ice water had been tossed on it.

Jean and Eren are smiling at you, which wouldn’t be too odd of a sight, if it weren’t for the threatening glitter in their eyes, the way Eren’s tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You’ve never seen an expression like this on either one of them, never seen something so…dangerous cross their faces.

“Run.”

“I’m sorry?” You scrunch your nose at Eren, confused. His smile only grows wider.

“Run.”

“Run?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Jean shakes his head disapprovingly, eyeing you down through the streaks of sunlight bleeding into the clearing.

“Forgot what?” Your words tremble as they make their way out into the still air. They’re your boyfriends, the men that wake you up with feather-light kisses and hoist you onto their shoulders at concerts, so why are your fingers beginning to shake?

“About that little book of yours we found,” Jean answers, cocking his head. “Surely you didn’t think we’d forget, did you?”

“No, I know she remembers,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, bristling under the soothing palm Jean runs over the back of his neck.

The memory hits you like a train. Coming home to find Jean and Eren hunched over a smutty novel of yours, blushing furiously and frowning in concentration. Confronting them only to find out they’d stumbled across the primal play chapter, that they’d noticed that these pages in particular looked a little well-worn. Jean had asked you if you would ever try it, Eren had raised his eyebrows when you admitted that yes, you would absolutely live that fantasy out if given the chance. Your face had burned as you nervously giggled, brushing the idea off in the sense that it was unrealistic to act out such a scenario in the middle of the city.

But you’re not in the city now. You’re in the forest, alone with your two boyfriends who are looking at you like they might rip you to shreds.

“No,” you murmur, so quietly that if the woods weren’t so still and silent, it wouldn’t have reached their ears, “I–I didn’t…I remember.”

“There it is,” Eren says, eyes glinting at you and arousal practically dripping off of his words as they make their way to your ears, “knew you did.”

“Weren’t lying, right? You wouldn’t lie to us, would you, pet?” Jean’s voice is steely and sharp with the implication that you had better not lie to him.

Words are lost on you amidst the thundering of your pulse in your ears, and you simply shake your head back and forth slowly. Some survival instinct from deep in the recesses of your brain tells you not to take your eyes off of them for a second, has every muscle in your body twitching. Despite the uneasy adrenaline coursing through your veins, a firm knot of arousal has taken hold in your lower stomach, simmering and spitting in excitement from the hungry looks on Eren and Jean’s faces.

“We’ll give you a ten second head start,” Eren says, dragging his eyes over your frame and licking at his bottom lip, “just to give you a fighting chance.”

“Sound good?” Jean tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. You know this is your moment to laugh this whole thing off, to return to the cozy interior of the cabin and put your feet up, have some hot chocolate, be kissed softly and held gently between their two strong bodies. This is Jean giving you an out, if you want it.

“Okay,” you agree, fingers fluttering nervously by your side.

“Good girl,” Jean nods approvingly, clenching and unclenching his fist, “ready?”

You nod back to him, knees shaking under your frame and a cold sweat breaking out over the back of your neck.

“Then fucking run,” Eren growls, grinning feral and wicked in the afternoon sun.

To your own surprise, you turn on your heel almost instantaneously, tearing off into the woods as fast as you can. The boots you’ve decided to wear are certainly not built for speed, but the thick soles are perfect for carrying you over the rough terrain, supporting your ankles and keeping them from twisting as you sprint through the woods.

You veer left, suddenly realizing that everything around you looks…the same. There’s no identifying markers, no path back to the cabin, no way to tell one tree full of decaying leaves from another. It brings you pause, your feet coming to a halt. It strikes you that you hadn’t been paying very close attention during your initial hike through the woods, and that even if you tried, you aren’t sure what direction will lead you back to the cabin. Eren and Jean have actually trapped you out here.

The crushing realization nearly makes your heart stop. You’re unable to suspend your disbelief enough to remember that these are your boyfriends chasing you; the only thought your brain can hold onto is that you’re being chased, and that you need to run.

The thudding of footsteps approaching shakes you out of your realization, has your feet moving at lightning speed the second you hear it. You don’t slow to look over your shoulder to see which one of them it is, just let your feet carry you far away as fast as you can manage. It dawns on you that the feeling coursing through you, bringing warmth to your face, is some unbelievable mixture of fear and arousal.

You can’t tell the color of either feeling apart, can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe they’re bleeding into each other, a symphony of passions ripping their way through every cord of muscle in your body, through every electrified nerve ending as you run away from what you want more than anything in this moment.

The footsteps behind you begin to fade, and as your breathing gets heavier and harsher, you realize you won’t be able to keep this pace; your best shot is running hard in short bursts and stopping to rest in between. You reach another clearing, much smaller than the one you had started out in, and lined with an assortment of bushes and a fallen tree. Just as you hunch over to catch your breath, you hear the return of those stomping footsteps, far behind you, but there all the same. The sharp pain ricocheting through your chest is warning enough to stop you from running again, and your eyes dart around in a panic, finally honing in on an area of the brush that looks thick enough to conceal you in your dark clothing, if you strip out of your light purple flannel.

As the footsteps draw closer, you hurriedly dive into the tangle of leaves and branches of the brush, ripping your flannel off of your arms as you go. You wince at the scrape of thorns and sticks on the soft, bare skin of your arms, but claw your way deeper, crouching down to conceal your body and twirling on your tippy-toes to peer through the leaves into the clearing.

It’s Jean, tall and imposing as he marches into the clearing. His chest is heaving under his shirt, hair mussed from running through the autumn wind. You marvel at him, so large and threatening, eyes blown wide and flicking from one area to another suspiciously, looking. Looking for you.

“Pet?” Jean whirls around, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you hiding from me?”

You don’t dare make a sound, positive that your heart is pounding so hard that if someone looked at your neck, they’d be able to see the frantic push and pull of your pulse through the skin. Jean surveys the area, narrowing his eyes at the brush where you’re hiding, but miraculously, turning his head the other way. You need to keep moving, especially considering that you’re so close to Jean, but with the increasingly small distance between you, there’s no way that you’ll be able to quietly sneak out of the brush. Just as you’re formulating a plan to wait and see which way he runs next, so you can run in the opposite direction, Jean’s eyes catch on something that makes your breath hitch.

“Uh-oh,” Jean exhales, stepping closer to you and crouching, his grin growing darker. When his hand comes back into your line of sight, you nearly gasp, one hand flying to the naked top of your head. He’s holding your beanie, grinning down at it. Hardly another moment passes before Jean’s eyes flicker to you, darkening as soon as you make eye contact through the leaves.

“Shit,” you breathe, scrambling back onto your hands and crawling desperately through the branches and leaves behind you, grimacing as a particularly sharp thorn scratches deep into your cheek.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jean laughs cruelly, jumping over the fallen tree trunk and towering over you as soon as you’ve escaped the brush. You stumble to your feet, but Jean’s quick, snagging you by the elbow before you can run off.

“Jean, please,” you gasp, looking up at him with wide, panicked eyes. It occurs to you that now that you’ve been caught, you’re not begging to be let go of– you’re begging to be held. Now that you’re so close to him, face to face with the shine of sweat on his collarbones, the rise and fall of his broad chest, your arousal is tangible, pumping through your veins thick like honey. You wet your lips, feeling the source of your panting move from your lungs to your core.

“Oh,” Jean’s bottom lip pushes out, “what’s the matter? Want to be my little princess again, is that it?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod frantically, looking over your shoulder and then Jean’s to see if Eren’s approaching to spoil your plan, “please Jean. Want to be your princess.”

“Aw,” Jean hums thoughtfully, cocking his head and looking down on you with pitying eyes for just long enough that you smile softly in relief, feel a rush of anticipation shoot through you. Unconsciously, you tilt your chin up, expectant and ready for him to catch you in a kiss. In the next instant, he’s gripping your arm even harder, with a jerk that makes your eyes water. “Too bad. You’re not my little princess out here.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, a clammy sweat breaking over your skin. Just as you’re about to plead one last time, Jean gives you a cruel smile.

“Eren! I’ve got her!” Jean shouts into the woods, turning his head over his shoulder to help the sound carry.

“Jean!” Your betrayal and frustration make your voice hoarse. Jean leans in to you, grinning wickedly.

“If I were you, I’d run. He’s not going to be nearly as nice as me.”

You wrench your arm out of his grasp, turning on your heel and darting further into the woods, grimacing at the feel of your wetness soaking through your panties. Jean’s footsteps are quick to catch up with you; or, at least, you think they’re Jean’s. You’re not going to break your stride to chance a look. You can’t outpace him, but you’re small and nimble enough that you think you may be able to outmaneuver him. You zigzag wildly through the trees, and it seems to be working, as Jean’s footsteps grow softer and softer behind you. Your lungs burn and your eyes water viciously, but you don’t dare relinquish the small distance you’ve managed to put between yourself and Jean, forcing your aching muscles to push harder and harder.

Suddenly, you spot it: a treehouse, with a little wooden ladder dangling from the bottom. It sounds like Jean’s footsteps are far enough behind you to afford you plenty of time to scramble up the ladder, at the very least to plan your next move. It wouldn’t be so bad if he saw you, either; the treehouse, as derelict as it may look, affords a nice sheltered spot for Jean to corner you in…

Your feet make the decision before your mind has the chance to catch up, and you’re beelining towards the treehouse, approaching it quickly. When you step on the first rung of the ladder, you feel the porous, rotten wood give a little underneath your weight, but the pounding of footsteps approaching urges you on. You make it two more steps up when one of the treacherous wooden rungs snaps under the pressure.

“Shit!” You squeal, clutching the ladder harder in an attempt not to tumble to the forest floor. You persevere, looking forward to whatever could await you if the boys were to follow you up to the treehouse. Two more steps up and you’re halfway there, but a pair of strong arms lock around your waist and pull you towards the ground with a harsh yank, ripping a yelp from your throat.

“Not a bad try,” you instantly recognize Eren’s voice, but what you don’t recognize is the rasp to it, the gravelly, dark tone, “but you didn’t really think you could run from me, did you?”

You thrash so violently that you think you must have hit him, because he drops you suddenly with a hiss. As soon as your feet hit the ground you take a few blind, wobbly steps in the opposite direction, only to run smack into Jean’s chest. You look up, wide, watery eyes blinking at Jean as your dizzied brain tries to grasp onto what’s at hand. You’re caught. They caught you.

“Going somewhere?” Jean sneers, grabbing you by your wrists and whipping you around to face Eren. The sight you’re greeted with has you squeezing your thighs together, a thick swallow sliding down your throat.

Eren’s eyes are blown wide, the bottomless black of his pupils nearly eclipsing the beautiful green you’re used to admiring. There’s a little sheen of sweat covering him, making him almost glow in the late afternoon light, and the veins in his neck are prominent with his heavy breathing. He runs his tongue over the now-split portion of his lip, courtesy of you, smearing a bit of blood over his mouth, and drags his eyes along every inch of you like he isn’t quite sure where he wants to start.

“I thought I told you to run,” Jean says, hot and taunting against the shell of your ear, “but it didn’t look like you tried very hard. Almost makes me think you wanted to be caught.”

“Of course she did,” Eren answers for you, stepping forward to run a thoughtful thumb across your cheek, making you flinch when he brushes over a cut on your face, “you want to get fucked, don’t you?”

You’re not sure what to do, whether you should nod your head enthusiastically or choke out a stuttered word of confirmation or maybe bite back; you feel frozen, overwhelmed by their looming figures and the fiery hot adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Eren decides for you, rubbing his thumb over your lips, and shoving it into your mouth. A coppery taste washes over your tongue, and you realize it’s your blood, fresh from the cut on your face. You suck his thumb in obediently, let him fishhook his thumb in your cheek, tugging your mouth this way and the other. Eren spits right in your mouth, nearly missing and splattering it all over your chin and cheeks.

“Nasty little bitch,” Eren snarls, shoving his mouth to yours.

What he does to you can barely be described as a kiss; it’s more like Eren devouring you. Teeth clack together, his tongue shoves into your mouth so violently you nearly bite down in your surprise. Eren sucks your tongue into his mouth, groaning low and hungry when you whimper.

“You taste good,” Eren murmurs hurriedly into your mouth, biting harshly on your lip and grinning against you when it makes you whine, “can taste the blood from that cut on your cheek.”

Jean stutters out a groan from behind you, his restraining grip on your wrists tightening. You feel his mouth begin to venture down your neck much like it had before, but his teeth are more demanding as they sink into your soft skin this time, more intent on taking, on marking you. One of Eren’s hands finds its way to your chest, grabbing harshly at your breast through your shirt. The ache of his strong fingers makes your back arch towards him, a breathless gasp leaving your lips.

“Show me,” Eren pants, finally backing away from you and ripping at your tank top, yanking it towards your head. There’s a shiny mixture of saliva and your blood staining his chin pink; shamefully, it makes a fresh rush of heat fly through your body, makes the wetness collecting between your thighs that much more prominent.

“We’re outside–” you try to protest, but a corrective slap to your ass from Jean shuts you up.

“No one’s around,” Jean says, mouth back on your shoulder as soon as Eren’s removed the offending garment from you, “it’s just us.”

“No one’s going to hear you scream,” Eren voices what you’re thinking with a nasty grin, bringing a hand to each of the cups of your bra and gripping the plush fabric hard enough to turn his knuckles white, tearing the connective fabric with a loud rip. 

“Eren!” You squeal in surprise, practically jumping in Jean’s arms.

“That’s it,” Eren groans, leaning down and lathing his tongue across a deep cut above your right breast, something you hadn’t noticed in your fearful escape from the bush earlier, “let me fucking hear you.”

Jean’s got your wrists contained in one of his large hands, not minding the swing of your ruined bra around each of your arms, reaching his other hand around your waist to fiddle desperately with the clasp of your jeans.

“Eren,” he says sharply, drawing Eren’s attention to the fact that your pants are still on. Eren smirks.

“Pick her up,” he answers, voice gravelly. Jean lifts you off the ground, your back pressed to his chest, feet dangling in the air. Eren rips both of your boots off, tossing them to the forest floor. Still pissed about your bra, truthfully, you jerk a foot out harsh enough to hurt him if it should make contact, trying to keep your movement spastic enough to make it look like an accident. Eren dodges and looks at you murderously, returning to his full height to grab your chin harshly.

“Did you just try to fucking kick me?” His forehead is pressed nearly to yours, voice low. Busted.

“You tore my bra.” Your voice has none of the conviction you were trying to find in the depths of your chest, coming out breathy and weak. A sound that can only be described as a snarl rips from Eren’s chest.

“Yeah, I fucking did,” Eren smacks your cheek just hard enough to stun you, make sure you’re really listening to him, “we caught you. Understand that? We’re going to do what we want with you because you’re ours. Keep smarting off, and I’ll rip your panties off next and shove ‘em in that bratty mouth of yours. Got it?”

Speechless, you nod desperately, squirming as the heat between your legs begins to grow unbearable, that tacky, sticky arousal surely beginning to leak down your thighs at this point. Eren makes quick work of your jeans and your underwear, hissing appreciatively as your panties stick to the wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so wet, pet,” Jean reaches around to swipe his hand through your folds. That alone is enough to make your knees buckle, make a wanton moan slip out from your lips.

“I–I want– oh.” You try and fail to articulate a sentence, cut off entirely by a loud groan when Eren’s teeth sink into the supple skin of your breast. Eren grins around the mouthful of flesh he holds between his teeth, raising his eyebrows at how riled up you already are.

“Pitiful little thing,” Jean chuckles, voice husky, “look how bad she wants it.”

Jean reaches down and shoves two fingers straight into your slick cunt, ripping a strangled moan out of your throat. Your hips buck into his hand of their own accord, desperate, tinny whines and whimpers leaving your mouth in quick succession. The stretch of Jean’s fingers is so welcome after all the build-up, that you don’t think you could put it into words if you tried. On behalf of your useless mouth, your body makes a great show of trying to show them just how good their attention feels, rolling and rocking into their touch, no matter how harsh.

Eren digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, your thighs, your ass, gripping you close to him and biting into whatever flesh of your upper body that he can reach as hard as he can, surely coming close to drawing blood. They aren’t the type of bites that require suction and the lathing of a tongue to soothe and leave hickeys; no, these are the type of bites that bruise on impact, little purple half-moons of teeth marks decorating your arms, shoulders, and breasts.

Jean coos in your ear approvingly each time your hips cant towards his hand, seeking more and more friction as the knot in your stomach tightens with each curl of his fingers. You can feel him pressing into your lower back, hard and promising, and your pussy flutters around his fingers at the thought of being split open by him, by Eren, by anything more that they’re willing to give you.

“Want to fuck her,” Eren huffs, “she close?”

“She’ll cum soon,” Jean affirms, licking through the shell of your ear delicately. You revel in the way they talk about you as if you’re not here, as if you possess no consciousness worthy of interacting with. You feel stripped of your higher thought processes, reduced into some pathetic, pliant creature only in search of pleasure– and you love it.

“Please,” you attempt to beg, only to be silenced by Eren’s long fingers wrenching their way down your throat.

“Stop talking,” Eren grumbles around a mouthful of your flesh, “pets don’t talk, do they?”

That draws a heady whine from you, your hips twitching forwards into Jean’s hand eagerly, a blatant attempt to pull forth the orgasm that’s been brewing between your hip bones for the last five minutes. Jean chuckles at your struggles, works his fingers just a bit faster.

“Go on,” Jean whispers, “it’s just us out here. Be as loud as you want, pet. We’re going to need you good and wet, so go ahead, cum hard for us.”

“C’mon, what are you waiting for? Fucking cum already.” Eren echoes Jean’s sentiment from your breasts, licking at another smear of blood just under your nipple.

Your body thrashes in their grip, begging for and yet resistant to the overwhelming waves of pleasure wracking through it. Loud squeals escape from your full mouth, even from where Eren’s got your lips stretched wide around three of his bulky fingers.

“Let us see what you can do, pet,” Jean murmurs, thick and warm against your ear, “just for us, come on.”

With one more vicious curl of Jean’s fingers, your back is arching violently, a muffled scream echoing into the canopy of trees around you as your release hits you hard. You can feel the wetness smearing between your thighs, feel the effort Jean’s exerting into keeping you still and in one place as you buck against him. Eren growls in approval and sinks to his knees, biting harshly into your thigh before sucking your clit into his mouth. That only serves to make you fight harder, the overstimulation getting the better of you.

Eren’s only able to lap at the sensitive folds between your legs for a moment before your twitching thighs threaten to knock him in the head, jerking closed of their own accord. Eren chuckles and smacks the inside of your leg a few times, rising to his feet and smirking at you.

“You squirming? Too much?” Eren sneers, gripping your jaw in his hand and forcing you to keep your half-lidded eyes on him. You push against his grip as hard as you can to shake your head no, earning yourself a pleased glimmer amongst the darkened green of his eyes. “More? You want more?”

When you nod frantically, Eren grins so wide his canines wink at you in the setting sun, flits his gaze over your shoulder to meet Jean’s eye.

“Get her on the ground.”

Jean complies, forcing you to your hands and knees in the dirt. Something about being so exposed, bare and open for them in the ground like this, has your blood running hot in an entirely new way. Neither of them have taken so much as their outer layer off, pinning you between them like…like their little pet. You can feel yourself grow even wetter; it may as well be dripping down your thighs at this point. You hear one of them kneeling behind you, can feel the head of a cock swiping through the mess between your legs.

“So fucking wet,” Eren hisses from over your shoulder, grabbing at your hips and kneading the skin. A hand comes to your chin, tilts your head up.

“Open up, pet,” Jean says, biting into his bottom lip. Obediently, you drop your jaw, tongue out, and blink up at him invitingly, more than eager for the weight of him in your mouth. Jean groans at the sight, slipping the tip of his drooling cock onto your tongue. You swipe your tongue over the tip, eyes rolling back at the taste of salt and sweat and Jean. Jean wastes no time in pushing to the back of your throat, tapping your gag reflex.

Any hope you had of suppressing the cough that threatens you when Jean pushes into your throat is ripped away by Eren shoving himself into you from behind, pushing you an inch too far down Jean’s cock and making you retch.

“All stuffed full of cock, aren’t you?” Eren grunts, driving into you and setting a brutal pace off the bat. You’re powerless to do much else besides squeal and whine around Jean’s cock, punctuating your muffled moans with the occasional gag when Jean taps the back of your throat.

Jean spits several times into the palm of his hand, never losing his pace thrusting into your mouth. If you had any more presence of mind, you’d frown up at him questioningly, but any doubts about his intentions are resolved when he leans over you, spreading his spit over your asshole.

“I want to take her too,” Jean says to Eren, who leans down to spit directly on your only unoccupied hole, lubing you up, “get her ready.”

Eren only offers an affirmative grunt, circling your hole a few times before pushing his thumb in up to the hilt; you’d taken them both only last night, so you don’t require all that much prep, but Eren’s thick fingers are a shock all the same. You squeal around Jean, who shushes you and runs his fingers soothingly along the crown of your head. You lean into his gentle touch, only for him to tighten his grip around the tangled wreck of your hair and shove you down onto his cock harder.

“Told you you’re not my princess anymore,” Jean chuckles darkly above you, driving his hips forward to the same rhythm Eren pounds into you from behind, “not out here.”

Eren’s been busying himself preparing your asshole, up to what feels like three fingers, but with the girth of Eren’s hands, you can never be sure. To have every bit of you full and used is an out of body experience; it’s not something you don’t experience regularly with the both of them, but to be taken so brutally out in the open, to be fucked in such an animalistic way, nearly shuts your brain off.

Eren gives you a few final thrusts before pulling himself entirely from you, causing Jean to follow suit and leaving you empty and whining. You’re tugged to your feet before you can even begin to form a sentence to beg for them back, stumbling in the crunchy leaves under your feet. Eren scoops you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you firmly pressed to him.

His cock drags along the folds between your legs, and he presses his forehead to yours, short, heavy breaths leaving him in huffs.

“Ready, pet?” Eren mutters into your open, waiting mouth, “ready to take what you were made for?”

Before you can offer anything more than a half-hearted plea, Jean is pressing into you, the all-consuming stretch of him rendering you mute. Eren never stops boring his gaze into yours, something sparking and spitting and wanting in his eyes, demanding more from you. He drinks down your squeal of surprise, spreads your ass cheeks open so Jean can get at you deeper, digging into depths you rarely find yourself aware of.

“She’s still so tight,” Jean growls, sinking his teeth into your neck, smiling around the mouthful when you moan wantonly.

“Give him some more, hm?” Eren, forehead still tacky and stuck to yours, grabs for Jean’s hand, angling it under your mouth. Through your desperate little hiccups of pleasure, you understand; you spit into Jean’s hand, opening your mouth so that a thick line of drool can slick his fingers up further. Eren grins, evil and satisfied. “Good job, pet.”

Jean uses the saliva you’ve given him to wet the last few inches of himself, pushing in to the base with a loud groan. You can almost feel the tangible eye contact they exchange; they love to look at each other unraveling when they’re inside you. “Your turn.”

Eren—no, Jean?—digs his fingers into your hips, making you whimper at the thought of the bruises sure to follow his grip, slides his cock into you slowly and forcefully, like he’s proving a point. The stretch of him– no, of both of them inside you, isn’t anything new, but in this setting, after all the build-up? You’re wailing, openly, your cries echoing off the trees as you thrash in their firm hold, overstimulated and overwhelmed and overpleasured all at once.

“Sh, sh,” Jean shushes you sternly, pinning your head back against his shoulder with a firm fist to the nape of your neck, “take it, don’t fight it.”

“Feel so fucking good, pet,” Eren says gruffly, giving a tentative half-thrust and making all of you moan, “like you’re fucking made for taking cock.”

“She is,” Jean coos, beginning to rock into you in the same easy rhythm as Eren, “just look at her. Not one thought behind those pretty eyes.”

He’s right; your eyes have glazed over entirely, mouth hanging ajar as they take and take and take from you. You can feel an orgasm quickly taking shape in the pit of your stomach, wrapping around itself and squeezing, threatening to pull you under. You’re so blissed out you can’t even be sure of what you’re feeling. Full, exposed, primal, half-conscious; all of those words surely would make the list if you could pull any of them to the front of your mind at the moment.

Your thighs are quivering around Eren’s waist, tightening viciously around his hips as they drive into you, suspending you between two walls of hard muscle. You know your cunt follows suit when Eren groans loudly, jaw dropping slightly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Slutty little thing,” Eren grunts against you, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Jean, “begging to get your cunt filled like a bitch in heat.”

“That is what you want, isn’t it?” Jean practically whispers into your ear, words wrapping around the knot in your stomach and holding it together, “want to get bred, don’t you, pet?”

Eren’s eyes go wide for just a moment, his gaze fixated on Jean. You can feel him pause briefly, twitch inside of you, and then before even a full second has passed, Eren’s determined scowl has twisted his face again, and he’s hammering into you like his life depends on it.

“Is that what you want?” Eren demands of you, eyeing you.

“Tell him,” Jean says to you, like the devil on your shoulder, “tell him how badly you want it. Go on.”

“I–I–” The tears running down your face collect in your mouth, making you hiccup and spit and choke on your words. Eren grabs your face fiercely, forcing you to look at him.

“Say it,” Eren snarls, “tell me you want this slutty pussy stuffed full of cum, our cum.”

“I want your cum,” you whimper pathetically, words stuttering and tripping as they spill from your swollen lips, “want to be full of it, want to get bred.”

“Fuck,” Eren nearly throws his head back, somehow moving his hips faster. Your legs dangle uselessly beside him; every muscle in your body contracts and relaxes wildly as your orgasm sinks its claws into you, threatens to pull you under. The only things tethering you to your body at this point are Eren’s eyes on you, bright and feral, and Jean’s hands around your hips, keeping you in place for them to pound into. You can feel the tidal wave coming up in your throat, your moans and whines growing more and more frantic, your head feeling lighter with each passing moment.

“Such a good girl– good little pet for us,” Jean slurs, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm, “show us how bad you want our cum, let us feel you–fuck–”

“So fucking good,” Eren laughs almost hysterically as you finally snap and cum around them, slapping your face lightly and egging you on, “there she goes.”

Every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire, little shocks of electricity flying down your limbs and making you jerk and flail and contract. You can feel your fingers digging into the skin of Eren’s biceps until they meet something wet and warm, and you know you’ve drawn blood, but you’re spiraling through rapturous pleasure so intensely that you couldn’t release your grip if you tried.

The way you tighten viciously around them has Jean falling over the edge right after you, his hips stuttering and coming to a still pressed against you. He tugs your face to the side, pulling you in for a sloppy, honestly disgusting, kiss, panting heavily into your mouth and mouthing around praises that he’s too spent to fully pronounce. You can feel Eren’s eyes on you both, feel the way his thrusts are starting to grow more frantic. Jean turns your face to meet Eren’s gaze, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Look at her, Eren,” Jean shakes your face a little for emphasis, “needs cum in both her holes, not just one.”

As if to emphasize his statement, Jean pulls out of you, a gush of his cum joining the mess between your legs. Eren throws his head back and groans, nods urgently.

“Said we’d stuff her full, right? Breed her? That’s what she wants, isn’t it, pet?” Jean sneers, landing a smack to your cheek.

“Uh-huh,” you babble mindlessly, body trembling with the force of the aftershocks of your orgasm, “p-please Eren, breed me, I need it–”

“Gonna cum in you,” Eren pants, grabbing your hair so hard you wince, “can you take it? Take all of it ‘til you’re bred and full of me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, nodding against him, “yes, please, I–”

“Give it to her,” Jean’s fisted his hand at the nape of Eren’s neck now, pulling all of you so close that you’re drinking down each other’s breaths, “she’s worked so hard for it, give her what she needs.”

That’s all it takes; Jean’s encouragement has Eren spilling inside you with a lengthy, choked groan. With what little energy you have left, you pepper soft kisses along his neck, knowing how his muscles must be burning with how they’re twitching under his skin. Eren’s fingers are digging into you so hard it hurts, already aching, but you let him cling to you, ride out his orgasm as Jean threads his fingers through the hairs at the base of Eren’s neck soothingly.

You all stay this way for a moment, Jean supporting the majority of your body weight as Eren begins to sag into you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The breeze swirls by, leaving cold kisses on every inch of your bare skin, reminding you that you’re out in the open, making you miss your sweater.

“Guys?” You speak feebly into the crisp air, blinking sleepily.

“Holy shit,” Eren laughs breathlessly into the crook of your shoulder, pulling you close to him in a sticky hug, “that was–”

“Crazy,” Jean agrees with a disbelieving chuckle, helping you down onto your shaky legs.

“I am…very naked.” You point out weakly, swaying on your sore thighs. Jean’s quick to slide an arm around your shoulders and tug you to him, while Eren wrangles his hoodie over his head to offer you.

“There’s not another house for five miles in either direction,” Jean assures you, lifting your arms so that Eren can pull his hoodie over you, “wouldn’t ever let anybody see you like this, you know that.”

“Better?” Eren, still a little winded, tugs the hoodie down around your thighs, looking you over. He swipes a thumb across the cut on your cheek, an impish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We really roughed you up, didn’t we? I’m sorry, angel.”

“I liked it.” Your eyes are already falling shut; you barely have the energy for a sleepy smile when Eren presses his lips to your hairline. Jean scoops you up into his arms; all the cardio that he does at the gym is making itself known.

“Was it good, princess? Have fun?” Jean murmurs against your forehead.

“So much fun.” You open one eye to see Jean and Eren glance at each other, see the spark of love between them. It comforts you; even amongst the near-constant shivers wracking through your body, the warmth of their presence and the steady rocking of Jean’s steps lull your eyes shut.

“Thank god she ended up running just about to the backyard,” Eren huffs from somewhere to your right, still sounding very much like he hasn’t caught his breath, “I’m fuckin’ beat.”

“It’s because you don’t do enough cardio, bro.” You can hear Jean’s insistent eyebrow raise and visualize Eren’s answering eye roll, chuckling to yourself in Jean’s arms.

“Cardio’s for bitches, I’m bulking right now–”

“Did you listen to anything the team trainer said in college? Honestly–”

“That was three years ago–”

Somewhere amongst their arguing you doze off, letting yourself go limp in Jean’s arms. When you wake again, Jean’s walking you up a flight of stairs, angling you this way and the other to avoid hitting your head on the railing. Jean flits his eyes down towards you and acknowledges your consciousness with a soft smile, carrying you into a bedroom and sitting you on the bed. Wordlessly, Jean and Eren go about their usual routine of cleaning up after a particularly rough session: Jean runs a bath while Eren fetches some antiseptic for the scratches on your face and arms, Eren nearly gets distracted when you start running your fingernails through his hair but Jean gets you both back on track, somehow fitting all three of you in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen.

Before you know it, you’ve been scrubbed clean, all the grime gone from your skin and the twigs pulled from your hair, and sandwiched between Eren and Jean under a heavy duvet.

“All better, right?” Eren murmurs against your forehead, pressing a kiss to it.

“All better,” you hum, nuzzling into his chest, “but I don’t want to waste the weekend. We’re only here until Sunday– do we really need to nap?”

“I threw dinner into the smoker while Eren was drying you off,” Jean says, words floating over your shoulder from where he’s curled up behind you, “we have at least two hours ‘til it’s cooked through properly.”

“And you need a nap,” Eren grins mischievously, “you had a big afternoon.”

“I’m not the only one,” you giggle up at him, “I heard you wheezing on the walk back.”

Eren scowls, only to have the furrow in his brow smoothed over by Jean’s thumb. You watch in awe as he instantly melts into Jean’s palm, such a volatile man so easily soothed by a gentle touch. As Eren’s mood begins to settle, you feel the atmosphere in the room change; the blankets feel just a bit heavier, the rise and fall of Jean’s chest against your back quells your breathing into the same rhythm, and the circles Eren’s thumb is rubbing into your hip have your eyes beginning to flutter.

“Naps for all three of us,” Jean says, leaving no room for argument, "I set an alarm. I won’t let you sleep through the weekend, I promise."

Something about the warmth and familiarity tucked under the covers with the three of you has your mind ambling on towards sleep, even after your weak attempts to protest. As you drift off, you can hear the quiet, wet noises of Jean and Eren exchanging a goodnight kiss above your head, feel the reassuring squeeze of their arms around your waist, the brush of lips against the nape of your neck, the tip of your nose. There’s a little murmured “I love you” from each of them, and though your mouth wants to form the words to respond, all you’re able to manage is a soft, contented smile as you drift off.