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sinswithpleasure · 8 months

Text

Viewing Pleasure

------------------------ First fic of 2024!!! I'm happy to be squeezing out something, finally. ------------------------

You’re definitely not getting back to work for a while.

Movie scripts are hard work—words might not flow, scenarios don’t make sense, plot holes inadvertently happen, and coincidentally, all of that just happened to merge together into one massive problem ten minutes ago. You’re glad for the distraction that Gaeul provides—your girlfriend knows when to pull you out when you’re too immersed in work, too deep into writers’ block to progress anything. Right now, the distraction she serves is extremely welcome. You’re seated on your shared bed, shirt and pants discarded courtesy of Gaeul herself, boxers sporting a prominent bulge, and your girlfriend tugs her tube top off her body, arms crossed, fingers at the hem as she unwraps herself like she were a gift. She carelessly discards her top to the side, and you feast your eyes on your now-topless love, her cute, petite breasts exposed for you. You can’t help but palm your bulge, groaning at the relief it provides, and Gaeul reaches over to tug at the waistband of your boxers, a soft giggle escaping her lips at how needy you looked.

“This is a good distraction, isn’t it?”

“Fuck… yeah.”

When Gaeul tugs your boxers off, she gives your cock a few soft strokes, which leads you to softly groan and hiss in pleasure. She silences you with a short kiss, then she pulls away to finish undressing. You keep your eyes locked on her, staring with lust as she pushes her shorts off her, inch after inch of skin slowly being revealed at first, then all at once when the garment falls to the floor. Gaeul’s pussy glistens with her slick, and you can’t wait to get a taste of her. However, you’re mildly confused when she wheels over her huge mirror.

“What’re you…?”

“Oh, um…” Gaeul gives a shy grin, “Remember when we watched that porn clip together?”

You know the exact one—Gaeul had showed you a video of an amateur couple having sex in front of a mirror a week ago, and both of you had ended up getting off to it together. She’d mentioned that she’d like to try, and you were more than happy to agree.

“You wanna try it now?” You can’t help the grin that is plastered all over your face—that video was hot as hell, and so was Gaeul admitting she wanted to try it then.

“Mhm, I wanna watch us having sex.”

When Gaeul finishes positioning the mirror, she gets onto the bed with you, and you meet her in the middle for a kiss, your hands roaming the expanse of her body. One hand reaches to fondle her left breast, and the other kneads her cute ass, your tongue and hers swirling in a hot, openmouthed kiss. Gaeul doesn’t keep her hands free either—she reaches downwards to stroke your cock once more, her other hand wrapped around you for stability. Both of you moan into the kiss, vocalizing the pleasure you draw from each other’s touch.

“Fuck, Gaeul, baby, wanna fuck you already.” You softly groan your wish against Gaeul’s ear when you break the kiss, your hands latching on to your love’s hips and pulling her down closer to you. However, Gaeul has other plans.

“Not yet, babe.” Your girlfriend grabs your arm to stop you, and the suggestive, coy grin on her face promises that what she has in store might be better than your wish. “We have the entire afternoon, let’s take our time, mm?”

“What do you propose, baby?” You leave a soft peck on her lips, and Gaeul returns you one as well.

“You’ve always said I look so pretty when I cum. Show me, finger me and let me see how pretty I am when you make me cum.”

The anticipation and lust only builds as the both of you get into position. Gaeul rests comfortably between your legs, your hard cock pressed against her back, and she leans against your chest. You stare with unbridled lust as your girl begins to spread her legs. Bit by bit, she exposes herself fully to you through the mirror, and you devour the erotic image right in front of you. A blush dusts Gaeul’s cheeks as she fully opens her legs, and you look below to see her clit exposed from under the hood. Slick runs down her skin as she pants in anticipation, and you can’t help but run your hands over Gaeul’s body, down her arms, across her chest, and over her inner thighs. You pay special attention not to touch her core—you don’t want to give her what she wants just yet.

“God, fuck, you’re looking so fucking hot for me, Gaeul, baby.” You plant soft kisses on your girlfriend’s shoulders up to her neck on both sides, before nibbling her earlobe.

“I feel so fucking hot.” Gaeul can’t help but release shaky breaths and moans as you fondle her. “Please touch my pussy, babe?”

“Mm, okay.” You smirk, and you draw your hands closer to her core. You make use of your middle and ring fingers to spread the slick beneath your fingers across her skin—you collect what drips from her sex, careful not to touch her pussy, and you rub it around her nether lips. Gaeul softly groans as frustration builds, and you whisper in her ear, “Patience, baby.”

“Babe, please.” Gaeul attempts to shift her hips to catch your fingers, but you use your free hand to press her hips back down onto the bed. You can’t help but smile at the whine she releases, and you tease her even more as you draw your free hand up to her chest, ghosting over a taut nipple, then circling over her areola as you whisper in her ear, “Look, baby, look at how pretty you are all needy for me.”

Gaeul moans out loud when she looks into the mirror. She looks absolutely wanton—her body all exposed for you as you tease her even more by kneading her breasts. You can’t help but pull her in for a hot kiss, one which you keep brief. You reach below with your free hand, and when both of your hands reach her nether lips, you begin to spread them open. You put Gaeul’s pussy fully on display in the mirror, your cock twitching against her back as you stare at her wet hole, clenching and leaking, her slick staining the bed sheets beneath her.

“Open your eyes wide, baby. Look at how sexy you are, all spread out for me.”

“Mmgh, fuck, I…” Gaeul bites her lip, a crimson hue spreading across her face. “Babe, I’m shy… I look so naughty~.”

“Yes you do, baby.” You sporadically leave kisses on Gaeul’s cheeks, chin, and neck. “You’re my naughty girl who wants to watch herself have sex with me.”

“I hate you.” An embarrassed whine leaves Gaeul’s lips at your filthy words. “But I… I’m feeling so sexy right now.”

“Good.” You kiss Gaeul on the back of her neck. “You’re my sexy girl, my best girl. I love you.”

“I love you t—mmgh!” Gaeul’s reciprocation of love is interrupted by the one thing she’s wanted all along—your fingers on her clit. You leave her no chance to finish her reply as you slide two fingers over her erect nub, and you rub circles over it as your girl writhes under your touch, moaning out loudly and wantonly as pleasure courses through her veins. A few rubs of her clit sends more slick rushing out of her pussy, and you watch as the stains on the sheets beneath her grow in size. Gaeul can’t resist herself any more—she begins to knead her breasts herself with both of her hands, her eyes glossed over with pleasure as she helps you stimulate her even more. However, you’re not satisfied yet—you give Gaeul two more rubs of her clit before you reach below with your right hand, your middle and ring fingers easily penetrating her slick, wet, warm cunt.

“Oh, my God, fuck~!” Gaeul doesn’t expect the surprise, and you don’t give her a chance to process it—you thrust your fingers into her cunt, thoroughly coating your digits in her slick. Your love can’t hold her moans back—with every upstroke of your fingers deep into her hole, she whines, gasps, groans, whimpers. Each sound she makes only fuels your lust further.

“Fuck, you look so pretty, baby.” You admire the reflection of Gaeul in the mirror—the girl squirms under your touch as she actively thrusts her hips against your fingers. Gaeul is just as eager for pleasure as you are to please her, and you’re nothing short of pleased as well watching your typically composed and shy girlfriend drop her walls, blatantly putting her inner sexual desires on display for you. You grab one of her hands, still kneading her chest, and you pull it down to her clit. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your lust for Gaeul only burns brighter when she follows your word, and you take the only outlet that you can to express it—you push your girlfriend’s chin up, and she meets you in the middle for hot, openmouthed kisses. At the same time, you curl your fingers inside her, seeking the spot that drives her insane. Gaeul’s slick drips all over your hand—your fingers and palm are drenched in her arousal, and you swear she’s never been so wet before. The girl can’t resist moaning with every curl of your fingers inside her, and when she breaks the kiss to cry out in pleasure, you know you’ve got her where she wants it.

“Fuck, that’s right, baby, moan for me. Look at how naughty you are, wanting to watch yourself have sex, watching yourself getting fingered like that. Look at you, all needy, masturbating for me to watch. You’re such a naughty girl, Gaeul, my naughty girl.”

Your dirty talk only adds on to the haze of pleasure that Gaeul enjoys. In between “I’m so naughty”, “Fuck”, and “Please”, wordless moans and the occasional “Babe” make it through, but you interrupt her stream of words with kisses too. The intimacy you share with her only adds to her pleasure, and when you feel her pussy begin to tighten, more slick flowing from her hole along your fingers, you begin to speed up your thrusts in her. Gaeul rubs her clit in time with your fingers, and you pull her close to you with a hand over hers on her chest.

“Baby, fuck, I… mmgh, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m so—” Before she can finish, you whisper right in her ear, “Let it all go for me.”

It takes you two thrusts to take Gaeul to her peak. Your girlfriend gasps, and with a loud moan, her back arches, then she convulses in your embrace. You can’t help but loudly swear when a strong jet of clear liquid gushes out of Gaeul’s cunt, and you pull your fingers out to furiously rub her clit. Her cries of pleasure increase in volume and frequency as more and more jets of her cum splatter all over the mirror and the floor. Both you and Gaeul keep your eyes locked on the distorted reflection in the mirror—the sight of your girlfriend squirting as she orgasms drives you insane. Gaeul can’t stop squirting either—she drenches her feet in the air as she shakes and shudders with each gush of girl cum, every jet of her juices hissing audibly as she continues wetting the sheets, mirror, and floor with her juices. She doesn’t stop moaning throughout—in fact, she gets louder and louder the harder she cums. It takes what feels like an eternity before she calms down, her orgasm finally subsiding, and she deflates into your embrace, her eyes glossed over in a deep haze of pleasure. You pull her tight into a hug—you need to process what just happened too.

“Babe, I squirted…” Gaeul’s exhausted voice draws you out of your trance. “I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Fuck, I know, you were so hot. You must’ve been so horny.” You hug Gaeul even tighter. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” Your girlfriend pants in exhaustion, her body limp after such an amazing orgasm. “And you’re right—I do look fucking pretty when I cum.”

Gaeul rests comfortably in your arms, and you embrace her tightly. Through all of your lust, you’re patient enough to wait, even though you want to have sex with your love already. The intimacy between you and her is something you will never get enough of, and you take the time to leave kisses across Gaeul’s shoulders, neck, and back while she catches her breath. However, you catch some movement in the mirror—Gaeul is rubbing her clit again, her fingers teasing her opening once more, shaky breaths punctuating every pleasurable move.

“Babe,” Your love sighs in pleasure, before her lips rise into a slight grin. “I’m ready again.”

You watch as your girlfriend pushes herself off the bed, out of your embrace. She turns around to press you back onto the mattress, her free hand pulling a pillow for you to rest your head on. You bite your lip and stare in unadulterated lust at Gaeul as she straddles you, and she leans in to kiss you softly. Her hand reaches between your bodies, and she wraps it around your cock to give it a few strokes.

“It’s my turn to please you.”

You can’t help but groan when Gaeul’s kisses begin to travel—your girlfriend is amazing at using her mouth during foreplay, and over that, she’s the best at making you want her, need her. Down your neck she leaves a trail of kisses before her tongue swipes over the trail she left, her hot breath right against your ear when she opts to leverage her soft, sultry voice against you.

“Fuck, baby, so hard, and it’s all because of me.” You can’t help but whimper at how sexy Gaeul sounds. “I love it. I love you.”

“Shit,” you groan, “I love you too.”

Gaeul smiles against your skin at your reply, and she kisses her way down your body. You watch with need as she teases your nipples with her tongue, and she even giggles at your whimpers—she hasn’t stopped stroking you. Her fingers spread your pre-cum all across your length, and more dribbles from your tip as she stimulates your perineum with her fingers.

“Fuck, baby, oh my God…” You can’t help but swear at the pleasure of Gaeul’s touch, and she raises her head to meet your eyes, the mischief and satisfaction in her gaze making you groan. Your love strokes your shaft slower as she kisses down your chest and tummy, and when she reaches your cock, she replaces her hand with her lips, planting kisses all over your slick cock.

“Mm, you always taste so good.” Gaeul licks your pre-cum off her lips when she kisses you right on your tip. You can’t help but buck your hips when she uses her tongue on you—she pulls your foreskin back and licks all over your tip, paying special attention to your slit. “I love using my mouth on you.”

The moan that escapes your throat when Gaeul takes you into her mouth might be louder than normal, but you don’t care. You love it when she blows you—her hot, wet mouth pleasures you so well, and her skill with her tongue is unmatched. Right now though, you can’t help but stare at the mirror, stare at Gaeul with her head between your legs, her ass up in the air, putting herself on display for you to ogle. She has two fingers inside herself, masturbating again, and you’re mesmerized. You’re mesmerized by the way Gaeul clenches around her fingers, how her ass tightens and loosens, how much of her slick drips down her fingers and wrist to the bed below. Gaeul’s soft moans only add to your pleasure as well—she’s got herself on a steady pace, bobbing her head on your shaft as she services both herself and you.

“Shit, Gaeul, fuck, you’re so fucking hot, oh, fuck…” You place a hand on your girlfriend’s head as you rest on one arm, eyes darting between the visual treats in front of you. Gaeul has her other hand fondling your balls now, adding more pleasure into the mix, before she swaps places with her hand. Now, she jerks you off as she takes your balls in her mouth, her tongue tenderly gliding across your sensitive skin. She’s rewarded with more pre-cum that dribbles from the tip, which she spreads thoroughly over your already-wet shaft.

“Fuck, baby, I… I’m getting close.” You can feel the familiar pressure below your tummy—the desire to erupt, to release just under the surface. Your cock twitches under Gaeul’s touch, and she slows down on jerking you off. She rises from between your legs, and she leans in to kiss you right at the corner of your lips.

“Can you hold it for me, baby?” Gaeul pants in pleasure ever so often. “I don’t want you to waste it like that.”

Your girlfriend leans in, her voice right at your ears again.

“Not when you should be cumming raw inside me.”

“Oh, fuck…” Your cock twitches hard at Gaeul’s words, and another dribble of white pre-cum runs down your length. Your girlfriend admires how needy you look, and she leans in for a kiss on your lips this time, one which turns into a quick makeout with tongues swirling. Gaeul moans into the kiss, and when both of you break it up, a string of saliva hangs briefly between your tongues before breaking and dripping below.

“Babe, I feel so good right now.” Gaeul is moaning right in front of you, her hand between her legs plunging deep into herself. You grab onto Gaeul’s hips as she continues masturbating, and you take your chance to admire your girlfriend pleasuring herself up close in front of you. “I feel so hot, so fucking sexy, showing you how I touch myself in the mirror and in front of you like this…”

Gaeul raises her free hand to support herself on your shoulder, and you keep her steady with your hands on her hips. She gives you a mesmerizing smile, before she whispers, “Watch me cum.”

The next few moments feel like a fever dream, but it’s all very real—Gaeul gets herself off right in front of you. You swear the mirror’s taken off every bit of shame and restraint off her, and you’re more than happy to have a front row view of it. Your eyes rake over Gaeul’s body, but you end up staring at her face, at her expressions. Gaeul bites her lip as the pleasure builds between her, and she doesn’t bother hiding how good she feels—she moans your name out loud, she tells you to keep your eyes on her, and finally, you get to hear the words you’ve so wanted to hear.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

A short “Oh, fuck!” precedes Gaeul’s orgasm. The next moment, your love’s nails dig into your shoulder, and her hips buck in your hands as her release hits her. A huge gush of squirt sprays all over your abdomen, your cock, and your thighs. You don’t bother holding back the swears that leave your lips, and neither do you stop staring at your girlfriend, as well as the reflection of her in the mirror. Spray after spray of girl cum wets your body and sheets as Gaeul shudders, her eyes rolling back in pleasure with each jet of her squirt that she drenches you in. With each warm spray of cum on your cock, you feel the familiar urge build in you again, and you try your hardest to stave it off, just as she requested. However, you’re not able to hold it off completely—three spurts of hot semen spray onto your tummy as your cock pulses, mixing with her cum on your body. The involuntary mini-orgasm has you groaning—clearly, Gaeul isn’t the only one visibly affected with this new experience.

When Gaeul’s orgasm comes to an end, she leans in to give you a short peck on the lips. However, she notices your cumstained cock and skin, and she giggles.

“Heh, I thought I told you to hold it, baby.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” You kiss her on the lips again, then give her a wink. “You’re too hot.”

Gaeul’s reply is to smirk. You bite your lip when she turns around on top of you, making it a point to push her ass towards you, softly swaying her hips to keep your attention on her.

“Now, hold it just a little while longer, okay?” Gaeul’s soft voice has you reluctantly tearing your eyes away from her ass. “I want the rest of that all in me, and I’m going to ride it out of you, baby.”

The groan that leaves your lips at her words only gets louder when you feel her sink down on your cock. Your hands instinctively shift to Gaeul’s waist to guide her down on your shaft. Inch by inch, her warm, wet walls envelop your hard cock until she has you hilted in her. Not even a second goes by before she’s lifting her hips already, pulling herself halfway off your shaft before sinking back down. Once, twice, and on the third time she does that, you meet her in the middle with your own thrusts to form a rhythm. Both you and Gaeul don’t bother holding back any moans of pleasure—the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as well as vocalizations of pleasure merge to form an erotic score that basically is music to your ears. The visuals only add to the experience: not only do you enjoy Gaeul’s moans of sexual relief, you get the best of both worlds in watching her not only fuck herself on your cock right in front of you, but you also get to see it in the mirror. You’re not the only one who’s watching though—Gaeul admires herself as well. She arranges her messy hair and preens in the mirror, partially for herself, and partially for you.

“You look so fucking pretty like that, babe.” You subconsciously begin to thrust harder. “I love you so much, and I love fucking you so much too.”

“I love you too, baby, mm~!” Gaeul’s whines of pleasure break her sentence up, and you’re grinning at the pretty sounds she makes. “You’re right, I… I do look pretty fucking myself on your cock like that!”

“Mm, that’s right, you’re my pretty babe, my lovely girl.” You shift your hands up and Gaeul leans back, using her feet and arms to support herself as she continues to fuck herself on your shaft. Your hands reach up to tease her nipples, and the groan that Gaeul releases has you grinning even more. You sneak a peek in the mirror, and Gaeul has a hand on her clit now, rubbing herself to add to the pleasure. With this new angle, you find yourself hitting her G-spot over and over, and Gaeul only gets louder, wetter, tighter with each stroke of your cock rubbing against her walls. The sensitivity from her previous two orgasms is the catalyst that brings her close to her third, and you’re getting close to orgasm once more as you twitch deep inside her.

“Babe…” Gaeul’s soft term of endearment is all you need to know what she wants. You start to ramp up your thrusts, and so does she. Both of you drive each other closer and closer to orgasm—she drenches your cock with more of her juices, and you’re leaking copious amounts of precum in her as well. Every thrust pushes both of you towards the precipice, and—

“Gaeul, babe, fuck!” Your cry of pleasure heralds your orgasm. Immediately, your cock twitches and you’re firing stream after stream of thick hot cum into Gaeul. Almost immediately, Gaeul shudders under your touch as her hips buck, her pleasure bursting out of her in streams once more. Once again, your love makes a mess of you and the sheets, just as you make your own mess deep within her walls, just as she wants it. You level thrust after thrust deep into your love, hell bent on fucking your cum deeper into her, hell bent on keeping both your pleasure as well as hers, going for as long as possible. Eventually, both of you come back down from your respective highs. Gaeul collapses next to you in exhaustion, a sweaty but ultimately satisfied mess. She snuggles close to you. “Cuddle?”

“Sure.” You wrap an arm around her. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She wraps her arms around you, and both of you bask in the intimacy and each other’s company. You smile as you plant kisses on the crown of her head.

“You were so sexy being all confident like that.”

“Really?” Gaeul grins. “We should do this again. It was hot.”

“You’re right. We should. Thank you for the distraction and the experience, baby.”

“You’re welcome!”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive smut #ive gaeul smut

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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months

Note

how about a reader who's been feeling pretty overworked recently?and just needs to rest but is to stubborn to Al does something about it?

Now it's Alastor's turn to pamper~

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You've been going nonstop all week and it's been taking it's toll on you physically and mentally

There's so much that needs done and you're only one person, you don't have time to sit and relax

Which means you're unintentionally taking time with you away from Alastor

Not his ears drooping and folding back when he realizes you're going to turn him down

"I'm so sorry, Alastor, I'm just too tired to go out and I really need to finish this."

"Y/N, it's our date night and I insist that you-"

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you later, I promise."

But you pass out and Alastor has to carry you to bed, hating that you're so overworked right now, that you have no time to spare for him

Which in his deer brain, means that you're neglecting him because you're so fried from work

And that means he's gotta fix this

But you're stubbon and won't relax willingly so he's got to get creative

"Darling, won't you take this bubble bath with me? I need help getting my back~"

🥵🥵 s-sure

He takes special care to massage and scrub every part of you until you're a gooey mess in his hands

Despite his claws, he can be surprisingly gentle, it's rather soothing to feel them ghosting over your skin

It's not until later when your back is against his chest and he's kissing your shoulder that you realize he's been spoiling you the entire time

Literally carries you to bed bridal style and dries your body with a loving reverence that makes you blush

"Alastor, I can do this myself-"

"Hush now, let me do this for you..."

Rubs fancy lotions and creams into your skin, massaging until you inevitably fall asleep under his care

Nobody is allowed to wake you or bother you at all for the time being, he'll make sure of it

He finds excuses to interrupt you during your work, forcing you to take breaks

"Darling, I accidentally made too much jambalaya! So I thought I might bring you some as I am quite sure you haven't eaten today~"

"Alastor, I don't have time to-that smells really good..."

It's so good you could cry, devouring the entire thing while he stays and has lunch with you, turning it into a mini date

You didn't even realize how tense were before Alastor showed up, feeling full and relaxed after he gives you a parting kiss

You really don't want him to go, watching him leave with a longing expression

Not him purposefully stealing something you need so that you have no choice but to seek him out

"Have you seen my folder? I can't get back to work without it!"

"Hm? I can't say that I have, but have you seen what a beautiful day it is outside? Why not just skip work today, and we'll take a stroll through Cannibal Town?"

Won't take no for an answer, already looping his arm with yours and marching you outside

It is actually a beautiful day outside

Takes you to all your old haunts and spends all day buying anything you even look at

It feels good to catch up with Rosie and some of your old friends, not having realized how long it's been since you've seen them

He also takes you out dancing, which leaves you tired and sore, but in the best way possible, he was always exciting to dance with

Will carry you home if he has to, will actually find an excuse to do so

"Do your feet hurt? Here, let me carry you~"

You pass out before he puts the blanket over you, soothed by his scent on your pillow

It's not until later when you wake up to him putting your folder back in your bag that you realize what he's been up to

"Alastor..?"

Oh fuck he's been caught

"Darling! I was just-cleaning off your bag and-"

"...just shut up and come back to bed..."

Literally climbs right on top of you and flops on you like he's your own personal weighted blanket

Kissing your neck and shoulders before whispering into your ear with a slightly guilty voice

"Are you angry with me?"

"Mm...not if you keep giving me attention like this..."

Well, he wouldn't want his darling Y/N to start getting angry with him now, would he?

The next day you feel more renewed and refreshed than you have in weeks, waking up tangled in Alastor's arms

You chuckle softly and push some of his hair out of his (totally not pretending) sleeping face, admiring his handsome features

He's a sneaky man who tricks you into relaxing and taking time for yourself because he loves you

And you love him all the more for it

This one was too cute! I hope you like it

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 1 year

Note

Hi can I get a 📝 for Theodore Nott with ; “I know you can take it.”

Maybe some smut ;)

Thank youuuu!

warning: smut!! if you know me, no you don't :))

It was a stupid question, really…

“When did the Gargoyle strike happen?”, Pansy had asked during breakfast. She was busy, writing an essay on the Gargoyle Strike but couldn’t remember the exact date; and could not be bothered to search for the answer in the library. Not when her friends were human sized encyclopedias.

“1910.”, “1911.” You and Theo said at the same time.

“I think you are wrong love, I can clearly remember 1910.”, he said with smirk tilting his head to the side.

“No no, it was in 1911, I am sure.”, you insisted

“And what happens if you’re wrong?”, he said in a voice reserved only for you.

You smiled at him and opened your mouth to reply when a groan cut you off “Please shut up, it is way too early for this.”, Draco whined resting his forehead on his hand, causing you both to laugh.

You grabbed an orange from the table and gave Theo a quick kiss on the lips before standing up; “I am right. See you later.”, you waved your hand goodbye and exited the Great Hall.

After classes were over you ran to the library, adamant to prove to your boyfriend that he had been wrong, and the Gargoyle Strike did in fact take place in 1911. You smiled to yourself as you found, the book you needed, and sprinted to Theos dorm room, to celebrate there…

Something worth mentioning is that; Theodore Nott is stubborn, smart and an insufferable know-it-all. But most importantly, he is a sore-loser.

“1911!.”, you shouted as you entered the room, with a smug look on your face, startling him, “Here.” , you said pointing at the book “I was right, you are wrong. Told you.” You finished with a smirk.

“Is that right?”, he asked looking up at you through his lashes

You could see his eyes darkening, as his gaze grew more intense, with every second that passed. It set off fireworks inside your body, and you smiled in anticipation, “Yes”.

Yeah, he definitely is a sore-loser you think now, as you lay on his bed, with your face pressed on the mattress and your back arched, aching in a way you had been craving all week.

He is knelt behind you, keeping you parted with his fingers, and devouring your core. You can’t remember how many minutes have passed, or how many times you’ve finished. You know that he still hasn’t entered you, stretched you in that delicious way you need. Your pussy throbs against his face and you whine at the emptiness.

Your words are muffled by the pillows and the mattress, but he can hear your whines and groans; your voice and your wetness being the only noises in the room.

Then, you feel him grunt and you flutter around his tongue, causing his laugh to leave an echo inside you. He kisses your thighs as he pushes his fingers inside, releasing a filthy moan from your mouth. You turn your head to look at him, his lips are red and swollen and his hair is messy; from your hands pulling at it all this time, nails almost scraping his skull. His eyes are focused and as they catch yours he smirks and curls his fingers in that spot that sends shivers from your spine down to your toes.

His face and hands; the way his big and cold ring feels inside you- sends you over the edge, for the third or fourth time tonight and you open your mouth in a silent scream, while rocking your hips in sync with his fingers.

You tremble lightly as he takes his fingers out and removes his pants and underwear; freeing himself, hard and leaking.

He teases you, drags his cock through your folds, overstimulating you “Theo” you moan “its..too ah- much.”

He laughs and leans forward kissing up your spine, moving to your neck and whispering in your ear “I know you can take it.” making you groan and clench around nothing.

He enters you then, painfully slowly at first and you moan; at the fullness, at the orgasm that just passed and the new one that threatens to come.

He moves, once he is fully inside and you chant his name like a prayer.

His deep breath at the back of your neck, the feeling of the emerald-green sheets rubbing against your nipples with each thrust and his hand snaking up and closing around your neck feel primal.

Everything feels too much and not enough at the same time. But, when you listen to the sound your bodies make as they are joined and the smell that is spreading in the room, all your senses heighten and you reach your climax, once more. He is quick to follow and as soon as he does, he turns your head to kiss your lips, without pulling out.

You smile into the kiss and he deepens it as you reach back to lightly touch his face and hair. Your body is limp at his hands and you lean on his chest after you let him raise you two up, sitting on your knees.

He kisses your shoulder and drags your hair to the side, exposing your neck to him. You can see his fingers trace your body, drawing patterns on your chest and belly. He reaches down then and you feel him growing hard again as he rubs at your clit, lightly-playfully at first.

You throw your head back and moan his name as you shiver. He kisses your ear and whispers “One more, be good and give me one more.”

Theo might not like losing, but you love it.

A/N: me and who?

Theodore Nott masterlist & celebrate my academic hardships

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theodore nott smut #smut #theo nott smut

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dmitriene · 10 months

Text

𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗡 𝗚𝗙 𝗣𝗧 𝟭.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘗𝘜𝘙𝘌 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon is extremely careful because you both know that he has a heavy soldier’s hand and he is a man who grew up as a soldier, capable of turning into a living killing machine and, in principle, a meat grinder, but not next to you, no.

he treats you like a jewel, many people want to protect what is closest to them, especially if they consider it more fragile than them, and the same applies to you, you don’t have to be a completely defenseless porcelain doll — just being an ordinary civilian, unlike simon, is enough, and he already wants to act around you like a loyal dog around something fragile.

in your relationship with him, the detail that you were a virgin was revealed extremely quickly, when, in a stream of hot kisses and wet traces along the neck to the collarbones, his hands slid to your crotch and you somehow squeaked in fear, slightly pushing his hands away, making him mentally worry — «did i do something wrong? she doesn't want that? am i hurried things up?»

one glance at the dark brown abyss of his eyes is enough to understand that he is immersed in a stream of thoughts from which it would be nice to get him out before he plunges deeper than necessary, your hands carefully touch his cheeks, warm from the blush and recent kisses, stroking his cheekbones and pressing your nose to his to convince him with a gentle whisper — «hey, si.. it's alright, i'm fine, you did nothing wrong okay? i just didn't — didn't had anything like that before»

light eyelashes flutter like a fan when he looks at you and his gaze widens in surprise, brown eyes become as if cat like round when he sharply releases a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding, gently placing his slightly rough palms on top of yours, nervously licking the line of slightly thin lips and nodding with relief, kissing the button of your nose like a child, smiling and muttering hoarsely, gradually moving away from the previously heated atmosphere — «yeah.. yeah, sorry love, got it, we're not in a hurry, step by step, gonna — gonna take my time with my precious girl»

and his word was restrained, you moved forward in small steps while he explored the world of intimacy as if anew, but now with you — no rush, promiscuous connections and unknown surroundings, only his charming girlfriend, who in the end turned out to be quite enthusiastic, otherwise how to explain how it all came to this.

it seems to him that you begged him about this for weeks, just like you, because after that situation when he found out about your inexperience, he seemed to begin to be afraid, and when small kisses turned into quite hot and with a lot of saliva, hands reaching out to pull his belt, he removed them and continued to kiss you, allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants pressing into you and which you wanted to feel in every possible way, but you were like a child from whom all the sweet things were taken away.

most often, all such sessions, be it on the couch while watching a movie or in the bedroom before bed, when a couple of innocent kisses before bed turned into a practical desire to devour each other — they became just dry humping, strong fingers squeezed your hips and slowly moved them along his legs, causing your panties, already soaked to the limit, to stick to your folds while you whined and whimpered every now and then, clinging to his shoulders and begging for more — «pl-llease, mph, s-si.. want you.. want you inside so bad..»

he controlled himself well even when he heard your charming whines, and it seemed to you that he was deliberately mocking you, because he only whispered backhandedly — «no, love, gonna take more time than that, need you to be patient, yea?» kissing the top of your head and deliberately jerking his leg, making you wiggle your clothed pussy against his knee and shudder in an instant, numb orgasm, digging your nails into his shoulders and practically scratching them through the fabric of his shirt, moaning and mewling unintelligibly while he literally felt how your cunt clenches and unclenches around nothing, gushing into the cotton of your panties and the thin fabric of your shorts.

your patience was rewarded, to the extreme, one way or another you moved a little further, finding yourself between his legs with his wide dick lying exactly on your tongue, while saliva flowed down your chin, maybe you were the initiator of what was happening, crawling between his legs while he watched TV, his muscular legs spread wide apart, allowing you to gaze at the imprint of his girthy cock in his gray sweatpants, fidgeting with your cheek against the inside of his thigh just like a cat, looking at him absolutely innocently and batting your eyelashes, and how can he refuse when you look so adorable, so needy?

you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting between his legs, the texture of the carpet uncomfortably rubs against your knees, even if it’s soft, while you with half lidded eyes studyly lick his big shaft, humming and emitting vibrations when he gently helps you with his hand, placing it on the back of your head and gently helping you move, while your tongue circled around the tip, picking up pearls of the precum on your tongue, slowly releasing him from your mouth to gently kiss the head, causing simon to growl and twitch as you slowly began to swallow him back, moaning and squirming on the carpet, looking for a friction for your throbbing pussy, causing him to stroke your forehead with his thumb and mumble deeply — «good girl, fuck — just keep it nice and warm here, yeah? gonna teach you how to.. how to do it properly, sweetheart»

he is so gentle and careful, he is in no hurry and asks you to pat his arm or leg, looking where you can reach, if something goes wrong — but you are so eager to do him good that you allow him to push your throat onto his throbbing dick even through the strange tingling sensation around your lips, running your tongue along his bulging veins as he continues to pump you slowly along his cock, which jumps up and rubs against the roof of your mouth, making you practically purr, allowing him to push deeper into the tightness of your throat.

but suddenly you close your eyes and your face contrasts with pain, your nails cling to his leg, causing him to pull you back in concern, instantly noticing the cut in the corner of your lip, which is why he immediately hides his still erect member in his boxers and sweatpants, hastily, gently squeezing your cheeks while your eyes gradually become wet from an uncomfortable burning sensation — «fuckin' hell, i told you to .. — shit, sweetheart, m'so sorry, had to notice first, i'm sorry»

you shake your head, additionally feeling that your jaw is aching, you don’t want him to feel like he’s to blame, so you gently kiss him on the cheek, looking at him guiltily and pursing your lip, purring hoarsely — «noo, it's my fault, you told me to tap you.. just.. wanted you to feel good, si»

he waves his head, stroking your hair and kissing you along the entire perimeter of your face, sensually and surprisingly airily, picking you up on his lap and adjusting his bulge, noticing how your gaze slowly slides between his legs, to which he hides your face in his neck, chuckling and continuing to kiss you tenderly, his fingers tracing circles and stripes along your spine, making you giggle at his words — «another time, lovie, you had enough for today, yep? best fucking girl in the world, wanna take care of me so much» ‹𝟹

one way or another, simon was really very worried, otherwise how to explain the fact that he practically did not let you out of his arms, did not allow anything more than small pecks on your cheeks or nose, and constantly sat you down on his muscular thighs to smear the corner of your lip with ointment, stroking your cheek extremely tenderly, watching you pout charmingly due to the fact that your training is delayed, and apparently for a long time, but can you really blame him for worrying about you, his precious girl?

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthearecs, @kennedyswhore-old dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

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rangerbarbz · 10 months

Text

First Time

Author’s Note: Y’all i am so sorry it’s been so long since i posted a fic. I am a junior in college and i have two jobs so i have been so busy. However expect some more stories now that it’s winter break! Hope everyone is having some happy holidays 🫶🏼

Summary: Reader and Ford go all the way for the first time together

It was a chilly night in Gravity Falls, Oregon when Stanford Pines and you decided to make some cookies. It was the perfect atmosphere for baking: comfy clothes, the temperature had dropped down, and the sun dipped behind the woods surrounding the Mystery Shack. The rest of the Pines family had went on an excursion to break into the theatre for a free movie, so you can’t imagine they would be back anytime soon.

Ford and you were in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make with the few ingredients you had available.

“Hmmm… So I’m seeing cinnamon here,” you said, looking into a cabinet next to the fridge. “I’m not seeing much else. What do you think about Snickerdoodles?” You grinned excitedly and faced Ford who was already smiling.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice resonating in you. God, his voice was so attractive. You remember hearing him talk for the first time in the library where you worked and your heart just melting.

He was in the fantasty section talking to himself when you walked by the aisle to reshelf a book. He was in the same area where the book needed to be relocated. Turns out you were holding the novella he was wanting to read, and you two struck up a conversation. He was kind and smelled delightful. You were too shy to ask him for his number, but a young girl who came into the library once a week for a crocheting club set you up on a date. You were unaware at the time this young girl was his great niece. The rest is history.

“Do you think everyone else will like them? I want to make sure these won’t go to waste,” you asked, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Ford scoffed as he was scraping flour from a measuring cup back into the bag. “Please, those things will be devoured. You have nothing to worry about.”

You laughed softly, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Glad to hear that.” A small smile spread across his face.

While you two prepared the ingredients and mixed everything together, you filled Ford in on the workplace drama. He would never admit it, but he loved to gossip with you.

“I can’t believe Denise would do that,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “I mean who does she think she is?” You rolled the last ball of cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar before pressing it into the pan.

“Right?! Like come on, now. I thought we were civilized.” Ford chuckled at your comment and put the cookies in the oven.

“Some people just never learn.” He snaked his arm around your waist and put a hand on your hip, bringing you closer to him. You placed your hand on his broad back and leaned your head on his chest.

“We got about 25 minutes until these are done. Wanna see what’s on TV?” you suggested, looking up at him. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sure. I think that’s enough time to get through half an episode of ‘Ghost Harassers.’”

“Ah, man. Dipper’s got you hooked doesn’t he?” You giggled and began to walk into the living room, him following suit.

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I know it’s fake, but their reactions to these so-called ghosts are so funny.” He sat down on the recliner while you fiddled with the TV antenna to get it to the right channel.

It finally flickered to a group of men with flashlights running through an abandoned house screaming. “Ah! Got it!” you exclaimed. You ran over to Ford and sat on his lap. Your legs draped over his, feet hanging over the armrest. This time he kissed your cheek, his stubble tickling your face.

“Good job, dear,” he murmured in your ear. Butterflies formed in your stomach from hearing his low voice.

“Thanks, baby.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as one of his arms cradled you. He was so strong; you always felt protected by him. One hand was splayed across your stomach while the other was on your knee.

You were so engrossed in the show you didn’t notice Ford wasn’t paying a lick of attention. You were wearing loose shorts which exposed much of your legs, and he was entranced.

You lifted your head up to look at him, eyes drifting over your thighs. His hand remained still on your knee, however.

“Stanford?” You had a mischievous smile on your face.

He quickly looked over at you like he had just been caught doing something wrong. Since the lights were still on, you could see the blush spread across his face.

“Something catch your eye?” you teased, inching your face closer to his.

“I-uh. My apologies. I was distracted.” He cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the TV. Oh, so he was going to play dumb? You were going to drag it out of him.

“M-hmm. What was distracting you?” You egged on. He glanced over at you and back to the TV.

“Your, um, legs. They just looked very nice.” Ford answered quietly, avoiding eye contact with you. It was so cute to see Ford get flustered.

You had kissed and hugged, but never went much further than that. It was hard to find alone time, and Ford could be hesitant about showing affection. This didn’t bother you, though. You were willing to wait how ever long you needed to for him. He had been through a lot, so it’s reasonable for him to want to take things slow and gain trust.

“Ford, you can touch my legs if you want,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his. “Do whatever you want. I don’t mind.” You gave him soft kiss on his lips and cupped his face in your hands. Your fingers slid through his silver hair and down the nape of his neck.

He sighed into your mouth and you felt his hand slowly creep up your leg. His other was on the small of your back. His hand began to slowly travel up and down your leg, stopping to squeeze every now and then as you continued the kiss.

God, he was being so gentle with you and all you can think about is ripping his clothes off.

You shifted your body so you were straddling him without breaking contact with his lips. His hands started to squeeze your thighs a little harder, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs.

You whined a little against his lips. You could feel his lips turn into a smile. You decided to deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and sliding your tongue along his lips. You felt him shiver as he welcomed you. What started as an innocent kiss began to turn into a make-out sesh. His hands had moved to your hips and were gripping them. Not tightly enough to hurt you, but enough to feel oh so good.

You broke away from the kiss when you heard the oven timer go off. “Dammit, cookies,” you joked, getting up from Ford’s lap. “Don’t move. I’ll be back for you, handsome.” You quickly pecked his nose and made your way into the kitchen. The Snickerdoodles smelled delicious as you pulled them out of the oven. You placed the pan on the stove top not wanting to damage the kitchen table from the heat. You removed your oven mitts from your hand and placed them back in the drawer where they came from.

“Cookies are done! Just-“ You were cut off by Ford scooping you into his arms and carrying you to his room. You were giggling uncontrollably all the way there feeling like a bride on her honeymoon.

He pushed open his bedroom door and gently placed you on his bed. He sat beside you, his eyes staring earnestly into yours. He took your hands into his, fingers intertwining perfectly together.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he started. “I am tired of dancing around these feelings I have for you. I want to be completely vulnerable.”

You were a little worried as to what he was about to tell you.

“I’m in love with you. I love everything about you, and I know in my heart this is deeper than surface level admiration. And…if you’ll let me. I want to show you just how much I love you.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. You lifted your hand into his and began to plant kisses on each of his knuckles. “Oh, Stanford. I would be honoured, but are you sure you want to move forward like that? I know you like to take things slow.”

He shook his head and smiled at you while using his thumb to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek. “I’m totally sure. I was holding back my affections for you because I was scared. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone before, and I didn’t want to make careless mistakes. Now all I want is you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You grinned and nodded your head eagerly. “Yes, please.” His face was pink perhaps from the whirlwind of emotions you both were experiencing.

He leaned forward his hands holding your face now. His movements were more sure than they had ever been before. You laid on your back, letting him take charge.

Your innocent kiss quickly turned rampant, exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands gripping his broad shoulders and moving through his hair once again. His elbows were on either side of your head, his breath becoming more ragged. His lips moved from yours to kiss down your neck. You moaned into his ear as sucked on a spot in the dip of your collarbones. There was sure to be a hickey there in the morning, but you didn’t mind. There was something erotic about having a mark from him.

Ford kissed down the other side of your neck, leaving yet another sign he was there on your collarbone. His mouth went to your ear to whisper, “May I take off your shirt?”

“Yes,” you hissed. That was all he needed. His fingers tugged the hem of your oversized shirt and pulled it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra which had Ford somewhat short-circuiting. His eyes drank you in, eyes trying to capture your beauty permanently in his mind. He stared for so long you had become a tad insecure, so you crossed your arms over your breasts.

“No, no,” he moved your arms away quickly. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re just so…beautiful.” You felt your face heat up. His eyes were just so full of adoration, and it made you nervous.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. He smiled gently and started to kiss down your chest. They were as soft as feathers. He then kneaded at your breasts, letting out a sharp exhale. His calloused hands felt wonderful against you. His thumb caressed your nipple before he put it in his mouth. You yelped at the contact. His tongue swirled around your aerola as his other hand pinched your hard nipple between his fingers.

“F-Ford,” you breathed, your hands gripping his hair. He had began to suck at your nipple and repeated the same actions to your other breast.

He continued to move down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He got to your loose shorts and looked at you as to ask for permission. You nodded, your face becoming hotter.

Ford’s eyes glinted with lust as he looked into your eyes. “You know, I loved the way you said my name. Can’t wait to hear you say it more.” You could barely register how smooth that line was before he was removing your pajama bottoms. You didn’t wear underwear to bed so you were now completely exposed.

Ford sat up to look you up and down. His lips were parted slightly, and his hands gently rubbed your thighs. He looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, you are the most heavenly sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ford murmured. “You look like art.” His eyes had gazed down back to your now dripping core, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. He sure knew how to worship his woman.

“But frankly, my dear, I’m about to be very disrespectful to you,” he mumbled, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

“Oh God,” you moaned. He was making his way to your center but taking his sweet time. Ford was a loving man. However, you could tell a primal part of him had been awakened.

His placed sweet kisses along your folds before flicking his tongue along your clit to tease you. You cried out in pleasure as he dove into you. He licked a stripe inside you and moved his tongue back and forth. You heard him moan deeply as he tasted you. Your brain was becoming foggy from how good everything felt and how he enjoyed pleasing you. Your thighs pressed against the side of his head; his hands were massaging your hips.

“Stanford, please. I want to feel you.” You needed him so bad. He lifted his head up from your thighs, slick covering his chin and lips. His hair was a ruffled mess. God, he looked good.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His finger rubbed along your entrance. He breathed heavy as he slid a finger into you. You let out a sharp inhale as you adjusted to him.

“Ford…”

“You feel so, so good.” Ford pumped his finger back and forth in you. Your eyes were closed and your legs had started to shake. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. Seeing you come apart underneath him was almost too much for Ford.

You had decided that he had done enough for you. It was time to return the favor. “Baby, baby. I wanna ride you.” Ford stopped and slowly removed himself from you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I don’t mind-“ You pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You grabbed his face and kissed him passionately.

You separated from the kiss to see his eyes wide and a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Take off your shirt,” you demanded. He quickly removed his loose red shirt to reveal a toned, yet scarred body. You had actually seen him shirtless before accidentally when he came out of the shower in just a towel so this wasn’t a shock. You found it incredibly attractive. Although, it took lots of convincing for him to believe you.

You ran your hands over his chest and kissed him once more. “You’re so sexy, Stanford,” you whispered to him before biting his earlobe. You spastically kissed him all over his body, letting your hands now roam over his muscular arms. You couldn’t tell it by looking at him, but he was packing some heat under those sweaters. You were also grinding down on his painfully erect dick which caused him to whimper.

Ford sat up and held you close to him as you fumbled with pulling down his sweatpants. He sprang free and you lowered yourself onto him. He let out a guttural moan as he felt your walls tighten around him. His forehead was against your shoulder while you bounced up and down on him. His strong hands had grabbed onto your ass, his fingers pressing into the tended flesh.

“Y/N…Oh my…” You held his face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes while you fucked him. He had a loving look; you had an animalistic one.

“I’m… Not going to last much longer, darling,” he said between breaths.

“Me neither baby.” It was the truth. He already almost had you with his finger, but now that his length was inside you, you didn’t stand a chance. Your legs had started twitching and you threw your head back, allowing Ford to assault your neck further. His arms were now wrapped around you as you came insanely hard. You thought you were gonna see stars. It only took a couple more seconds for him to fill you up. His chest heaved up and down as he collapsed on his bed with you on top of him.

“That was…wonderful,” he sighed, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Agreed, but I think we need a shower after that,” you suggested.

Ford raised one of his eyebrows at you. “Round two?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Oh you bet.”

P.S. I didn’t look over this so if you see a typo or bad grammar no you didn’t

#ford pines #gravity falls #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #imagine #stanley pines #pines family #fluff #smut

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

Text

Devour: ACID

Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: ACID Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x f!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: A month since SALT and three weeks since FAT, your situation with the mob boss who bought your restaurant is still evolving in unexpected ways - including an unexpected episode after work tonight.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, oral: female receiving, analingus: female receiving, vaginal penetration/fucking, some light drinking, mob boss Bucky is kind of dom

Logistical Notes: I had planned for this to punch the ticket for week 10 of my Hot Bucky Summer 2023 collection for the prompt "Long day at work?" and so this is late for the @buckybarnesevents event itself, but I'm a completionist and am marking it off on my personal list for my own satisfaction. Also ticking off the U3: "Kink: Concubine" square of my Bucky Barnes Bingo, Round Five card for @buckybarnesbingo.

Additional Notes: @mlibbydp and @goldylions were so benevolent in doing some beta work on this so HUGE AMOUNTS OF LOVE TO THEM for what they both contributed to the piece and to me personally. This chapter is much longer than the previous two and just as part two evolved their relationship, part three makes some more significant moves and ... I needed the notes on making sure this still felt like Devour. Also... @biteofcherry you might see something interesting in here that's definitely included because of a throwaway comment you made earlier this summer.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

When you walked out into the garage, there was a black luxury SUV idling near the exit with Sam Wilson leaned up against it. Seeing you, he slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed off the side of the vehicle.

“Hey, Chef,” he greeted you with a grin.

“Really?” you sighed. “Now?”

He shrugged. “Please?”

“And is that you asking nicely, or him?”

“You know I just do what he says.”

You huffed. “You don’t always do what he says, but he knows you’re the most charming one and I wouldn’t refuse you.”

Sam laughed as he opened the door to the backseat. “Don’t let the charm fool you, honey, if you said no, I’d throw you in the back regardless, it would just be less fun for you.”

You knew that, too, which is why you simply got in without a fuss. Bucky, Sam, the rest of his men? They were all mobsters running mob business, dangerous beneath the surface.

As the door closed behind you, you looked to the front to see who was driving, then clucked your tongue. “He sent both of you?”

Steve smirked. “Buckle up. And of course he sent us. You don’t think he trusts just anyone with his girl, do you?”

Oh. You bit your bottom lip and looked away and out the window, a small warmth stirring in your belly. As inconveniently annoying as this ordeal seemed to you in this moment, there was that piece. Being his. You were starting to feel it.

You had told Bucky that second night in the restaurant that you needed more than gifts and sex.

He had taken your word seriously.

There had been walks in the park, an auction, brunch on his yacht, a gallery opening, a rooftop wine tasting, even a dinner party at Sam’s place where he ended up proposing to his girl. You had enjoyed all of them, but except for the night at Sam’s, the time with Bucky had been last minute – sometimes there was a text, but most times it was him showing up or – like tonight – someone sent to fetch you without notice. He seemed all too aware of your schedule, so none of these instances were logistically inconvenient, but with it happening once more again tonight, you couldn’t help but notice this pattern of behavior was clearly becoming a habit – being summoned. In general, you didn’t mind, you saw that he was demonstrating that he wanted to spend time with you, but if you were his girl, you didn’t want to be treated like one of the droves of people who were at his beck and call and certainly not like a concubine kept solely for his whims.

The SUV slowed and pulled up to the curb of an incredibly unremarkable building that spoke to money for how unremarkable it was – the kind of money that demanded magnificence but privacy. You’d never stepped in a place of residence quite like this before – you hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, but even in the darkness you already knew.

Both men slipped out of the front seat. Sam opened your door and offered his hand to pull you to the sidewalk. “No frowns needed tonight,” he said.

“Says you.” You didn’t realize you were frowning.

Sam grinned, then headed around to take the driver’s seat just as Steve appeared at your side.

“I’ll walk you up,” Steve gestured for you to enter the building with him.

“This is his place?”

“One of them,” Steve responded.

You took a deep breath and followed him in.

Sharp looking doormen, green marble floors, golden elevators.

Chatting with Steve was always easy, and it was no different on the fifteen-floor ride up to the penthouse at the top of the building. However, you did feel a touch of nerves as this was your first time at Bucky’s place. You weren’t quite sure what to expect but were keen to learn more about this enigma of a man by seeing where he lived.

And there he was, ready to meet you as the doors of the elevator opened, hands in his pockets, tired smile on his face, but his blue eyes dancing with excitement, and that stirred the storm of butterflies immediately in your stomach. He reached out a hand to pull you into him.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sure thing, Buck.”

Once the elevator closed, Bucky brushed his fingers over your cheek, cradled your head in his hand to tilt your jaw up, and then his lips were on yours, your back pressed up against the wall. Within moments you were breathless.

In the intervening weeks since seeing him at the restaurant he’d also kept his physical contact minimal, only a few light touches, an arm around you when it seemed natural for the occasion, except for two lingering kisses. One of those instances was after a walk in the park when he’d kissed you full on in the afternoon daylight, then deposited you into the car he’d arranged to take you directly to work, where his heated kiss had distracted you throughout your shift. The second was three nights ago, the last time you saw him, and that had been only a ghosting of his lips against your ear, along your jaw, and then a soft kiss pressed to your mouth before withdrawing and leaving you at your door, but it had gotten your whole body humming for him and haunted you as you went to sleep and in your dreams.

This, after so long, so much wanting, was like a wave crashing over you. You moaned softly, you let him pull you in, melting against him, and you nearly let him sweep you away, but then you pressed insistently against his chest.

“James.”

“Yes?” he did move back, but only enough to look into your face fully.

“What is this?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“So, you just summon me?”

You knew he didn’t miss the tenor of agitation in your tone because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the smirk before he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the juncture at your shoulder. “I was hungry for you,” he said, completely undeterred. And as his lips moved solely along your throat, your core begged you to forget the conversation you were attempting to have.

“Why?” you barely managed to ask.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

Bucky pulled back again, frowning this time, but you put your hand on his face to soften his reaction. “Steve and Sam said I’m your girl, but…”

“I told you you were mine. Surely over the past few weeks, you can’t doubt that.” His stare into your eyes was steady, straight.

You didn’t doubt him.

You did need to hear those words said just that way though. You didn’t know how much you had needed to hear them.

It gave you the surety to say what you needed to say to him. “I’m not just another girl. No more summoning me, Barnes. I’m not one of your people, I’m not your plaything.” With your hand now resting on his chest, you let your fingers brush soft strokes up and down over his heart. “If you want me, want all of me.”

He hadn’t interrupted your statement. He’d let you finish without argument. You could see the way his face changed, and the shift of the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. He drew you in closer, encircling his arms around your waist. “Oh, I want everything, don’t doubt that.” He brushed his lips softly on your forehead. “I was only waiting for you to want this.”

Your chest tightened at those words, but the next moment you couldn’t think because then he kissed you again.

And that kiss, though brief, was thick with heat, and when he pulled back he said, “I see your point about the summoning. Just know that I was eager to have you around at any opportunity.”

You smiled because he smiled. “I can forgive you for that – I guess I can be a bit irresistible,” you teased. Somehow his confidence made you feel steady enough with him to be direct, to be flirtatious, to simply be around him.

He brought a hand to your cheek again. “I’ll mend my ways, but let’s be honest… a little bit of you likes it – the spontaneity of it.” His smile turned to a truly wolfish grin.

You sighed but rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe a little.”

He stepped away, taking your hand. “Come. You can have a tour later.”

Rather than asking where you were going, you simply let him lead you through the grand apartment. You didn’t take in every detail, but it was big without being too big. Rich and luxurious without being cold or opulent. There were sleek lines, but also elements of warm and comfort folded into the power that was also clearly on display. But your focus was on the way he held your hand and led you through his domain. He had no question that you would follow.

Were you so easily his?

No.

Your mind wasn’t made up.

You weren’t all in, but you weren’t reeling to run away.

He stopped in front of a mahogany door and looked over his shoulder at you. You arched your brow.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Alright.” And you did.

He opened it, and you let him lead you inside, through a room, clearly walking you past some furniture. You heard the sound of a fire in a fireplace, then you heard another door opening, and he ushered you in front of him and through that door. “Take your time,” he said softly, lips against your ear. “I’ll be waiting.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a large jade green-tiled shower enclosed with glass and four gleaming gold showerheads. Turning around, you couldn’t help a soft giggle falling from your lips. The lavish bathroom was sheer perfection. Showering after your shifts at the restaurant was ritual for you. You toed off your shoes and began peeling off your clothes. Off to the side of the palatial shower, there was a gorgeous clawfoot tub, and next to that a plush navy settee with what looked like some silky things set out for you. After inspecting the knobs and heads of the shower, you got them running, adjusting them to the perfect water temperature easily, and stepped under the streams, a sigh falling immediately from your lips.

One of the shelves was stocked with some of the skin and haircare products you used, some you hadn’t but certainly knew the name and reputation of (but hadn’t indulged in for yourself), and the other shelf was stocked with men’s products. It reminded you of the significance of where you were – in his home – and the element of intimacy it evoked, being naked where he had been and would frequently be again. Where he likely would be naked with you. You bit your lip. You pulled down the bottle of his shower gel, popped the top open, and inhaled. You hated how much you already loved that smell.

No, you didn’t.

You inhaled deeply again, then set it back on the shelf.

After that, you set to reveling in the flow of the water over your body, and got to washing, unsure of the time, only focused on the smooth feel of the soap and textures over your skin, feeling more and more relaxed, and ultimately refreshed and clean.

Once you had shut off all four showerheads, you reached for towels more plush than any you had ever used in your life and dried yourself off before wrapping the large bath sheet around your torso. You padded over to the settee to discover a short black silk robe waiting for you.

And nothing else.

You shook your head but grinned. “Audacious bastard,” you whispered.

But you didn’t bother with anything else.

At the vanity there were more hair, face, and body care products and tools clearly stocked for you – again some familiar and some you’d only dreamed of, none of this really a shock given your experience with this man. You weren’t certain how long you’d taken in the shower, having lost track of time, but here you suddenly did find yourself trying to take more time, a small fluttering of nerves in your stomach, because though he'd had his way with you in the kitchen of the restaurant and discreetly pulled an orgasm from you at the table in the dining room, this would be different.

Tonight, your body would be his, no restrictions. There was no worry for privacy, no limited amount of time.

There were also emotions now.

You had set the terms – that you needed to be more than a body to him – and he’d met them, courting the rest of you these past weeks, and putting the physical on the back burner.

He had made his intentions for tonight expressly clear.

And you wanted him, too.

But you were still nervous.

When you put your hand on the doorknob, you closed your eyes for a moment, taking one deep breath to steady yourself. Then you stepped out and into the next room, which – to no surprise – was a grand and spacious bedroom. Bucky was sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace you’d heard earlier, but immediately set a book aside and stood when he heard you. You were happy – and feeling a little more heat in your core – to see he was out of his earlier clothes and down to only a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

“How was your shower?” he asked, standing up and beckoning you over.

“The shower was glorious. You’re a bit wicked to only leave me a robe, though, aren’t you?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead and motioned to get comfortable on the couch while he moved over to a small bar cart nearby to get you a drink. He shot a smug over his shoulder. “I plan to get lucky.”

You snorted. “You brought me here late at night, kissed me like you did earlier, sent me to shower, left me only a very slinky silk robe to wear, and then greet me again looking like this,” you gesture at him, “fixing me a drink, and you call that ‘planning to get lucky?’”

He shrugged, his smug grin only growing. “Do you think there’s any way in hell I’d be where I am if I hadn’t strategically hedged my bets? Absolutely I plan to get lucky. I make sure I don’t give luck any reason not to go my way.”

You didn’t need alcohol. He was beyond intoxicating. He had been from that first night.

“And I’m assuming I don’t get a choice of drink tonight, either?”

He looked at you again. “I let you choose a lot of things, but I want you to try this. I think you’ll like it.”

You bit your lip and tucked your legs up under you, draping an arm over the back of the couch and facing him as well as where he would return to sit once finished mixing your drinks. His back was to you now, and you were not surprised he seemed to want to keep his preparation a mystery at least for a few more moments.

“Long day at work?”

“Work?” You weren’t expecting such a normal inquiry about it.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “work, my beautiful, talented chef.”

He handed you a wine glass with clear liquids over ice, garnished with fresh mint and slices of lemon, while he had what looked to be a whiskey smash in his other hand. You took an experimental sip as he sat close to you, angling his body to face you, resting his arm over the back of the couch as well. The citrus and mint blended with something floral and…

You swished the contents of your drink in your glass before taking another sip. It was bright and refreshing and not quite the evening night cap you would have expected.

He watched your face, gaging your assessment as he sipped his own drink.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you countered, “but what is it, James?”

Your name on his lips ticked the corner up in a half smile. “It’s a Hugo cocktail.”

“It’s not a predictable choice for the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t my intention to bring you hear and tuck you in straight away.”

You laughed. “There’s no question what your intentions were. We established that.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re not picking up on all my intentions.”

Your brow furrowed. Then you let out a little yip of surprise as he pulled you closer, you clutching your wine glass to keep from spilling the drink.

He had already positioned himself close to you, but this was even more intimate. You were nearly in his lap, and he did pull your legs up to drape across his thighs.

“Now tell me about your day.”

“Oh, you were serious.”

His hand settled on one of your bare thighs, just next to your knee.

“If I didn’t want all of you, I would’ve fucked you in the foyer and let you go home. I want this, too. Now talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you smiled. This really was him – demanding but not inflexible, and certainly giving you more than you expected.

So, you did talk, just as you had been really starting to the more he had brought you around to spend the time with him these last weeks. However, there was no getting around that this was more intimate. No others around, no distractions, no functionality of a thing you were doing together, only the two of you.

His line of inquiry was genuine, and he listened intently.

Almost too intently.

You were his singular fixation, and you knew he was thinking of nothing but you as you spoke.

And his fingers brushed idly over your thigh as you conversed.

The soft, repetitive motion wasn’t distracting at first, but it wasn’t long before it was an overwhelming tease of what wasn’t happening.

The physical touch you hadn’t experienced at his hand in weeks.

He was asking questions about how some of the new members of your kitchen staff were integrating, and all you wanted him to do was glide that hand down between your thighs.

You sipped at your drink, and as you continued to talk, you let your other hand drift to rest on his arm still draped over the back of the couch, and your fingers traced along a vein on his forearm. Although it was difficult not to let your eyes drop to his bare chest, you kept his gaze. If he was going to continue talking like this proximity and the lack of clothing between you both wasn’t affecting him, you were determined to match him.

Finally, he moved his hand from your thigh, but it went straight to your waist to curl just above your hip. “Kiss me,” he said.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips hungrily to his without hesitation. He set his drink to the side, then grabbed yours to do the same. With both your hands free, neither of you wasted another moment. Your hands went to his neck while one of his hands traveled slowly up your spine, the other holding your face. As impatient as you were for him, both of you kissed to savor, but there was no rush to it. His lips moved against yours, your tongues explored together, tracing, memorizing, exploring. It wasn’t enough, the tenor moving from savoring to consuming, and you shifted, moving into his lap.

He broke off the kiss briefly, turning his head to the side, but his left hand remained firmly against your back, keeping you close, and you rested your forehead against his temple. His other hand reached to the side table, and he plucked one of the slices of lemon and some mint from your drink. Curious, you lifted your head away. He brought the mint leaf to your mouth first, pressing it along your bottom lip. Then he pinched the fruit against your lip. The mint played with the acid of the citrus deliciously as he kissed you again, this time each of you nipping and licking intermittently through the kisses. Your hands explored the broad planes of his chest now, and his hands raked up and down your sides, thumbs skimming over the side swells of your breasts.

Keen for more, you pressed your body closer to him, pushing your core directly against the hardness of his cock. Rocking your hips, you drew a debauched moan from him that made you swell with pride and made your pussy ache even more for him. You needed him, each moment driving that need exponentially now.

The thick arms and broad chest you were getting to explore freely for the first time held only some of the rippling muscles that made it seemingly easy to push up off the couch while still holding you close with one arm, and it made a broken whine escape the back of your throat. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and his other hand squeezed and held your ass against him as he moved you from the seating area across the room to the bed. He tossed you down on the mattress, then pushed the silky robe – which was naturally already askew – off your body and flung it away. You pushed yourself back a bit more on the bed, and he was only a half second behind crawling up after you.

He pushed your legs wide open, and dove immediately for your dripping cunt. You laughed, a little flushed, but also more than ready for him to bury his face between your thighs. You let your head fall back against the soft bedding, closing your eyes. Then you yelped as there was a sharp slap to your pussy instead of his lips on your folds. You jerked up to look at him, and the devilish grin on his face, the darkening of his eyes made your heart stutter.

“Don’t laugh, Chef, I told you I was hungry for you. Keep your eyes on me,” he said.

You took a deep breath, leaned back on your elbows, and gave him a solemn nod.

He pressed kisses slowly along your inner thigh, his deep blue eyes locked on yours. The fluttering in your stomach rose steadily, your pussy desperate for his attention. When he planted his lips in the crease of your thigh, he left his mouth there. A broken whimper leapt from your throat, and you pushed your hips up.

He pushed your hips back down with one of his large hands and moved his mouth the opposite direction and bit at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you yelp.

“Please,” you murmured.

“Eager for me?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.

“Good.”

And then he worshiped your cunt, kissing it with as much fervor as he had kissed your mouth, and you moaned openly, no worries over anyone but him hearing you here. You didn’t look away, completely captivated because this was also a new level of intimacy that you felt both ready and unprepared for. Receiving oral sex from other partners had never felt so purposeful. This man in this moment was so avid in the way he was pleasing you, making you watch him, you brain was having a hard time recalling if sex with anyone before him had ever been so intense. You didn’t think it had – that first night when he’d demanded it from you in the kitchen, the next time he’d coaxed you into a few moments of pleasure in the dining room, and now inviting you here to have you without restraint – each encounter had been unlike anything before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as his lips and tongue licked, sucked, flicked your clit, delved into your folds, and he kept a keen eye on your every reaction. You began to feel lightheaded with the mounting waves of bliss, your toes curling, breaths coming in short gasps until your head fell back because you simply couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t do anything but feel, ready to fall over the edge because of him again.

But then he pulled his face away, jerking you back from that edge of ecstasy and you would have whined, but he was already manhandling your hips to flip you over. One of his rough palms smoothed slowly and firmly up your spine, applying delicious pressure, but you still felt the lack from the orgasm he’d dangled then withdrawn. “James,” you moaned. “James, please.”

He drew his palm slowly back down your spine. “You’ll have me, Chef, don’t doubt that.”

You whined again, but he pushed your thighs apart and slotted himself again between them, holding you splayed open for him with his broad shoulders. It was a little uncomfortable, stretching your legs, but you settled and breathed through it anticipating what was coming next.

His tongue teased at your clit for a moment, then slowly licked up and between your folds to dive into your cunt, lapping inside, and you shivered. But then one of his hands pushed at your ass cheek and his tongue continued moving up, and you gasped and tried to move away when the tip of his tongue teased your tight, puckered hole.

“Easy,” he said softly but firmly, his other hand moving beneath you and hooking at the juncture of your thigh to pull your hips back flush against him. He pressed a kiss to your round ass cheek.

“I’ve never,” you admitted enough, he knew what you meant. He kissed the same spot on your ass cheek, but then he shifted, and you felt him moving up over your back, his body pressing lightly against you until he was up at your shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, and then looked at you.

“Then I won’t give you more than my tongue tonight, but you know I’ll make you feel good, don’t you?”

You nodded.

He smiled, then left the ghost of a kiss to your temple and slipped back down behind you.

Resuming his exact same positioning, his left hand curling under to anchor at the juncture of your leg, his right pressing you open to expose your ass, you pressed your cheek into the pillow and took a deep breath. You reached your left hand down to meet his, and he twined his fingers reassuringly with yours as they sought him. Then his mouth pressed in, and his tongue darted out, swiping over the tight ring of muscle.

“Just relax and feel,” he instructed.

You concentrated on breathing and then the new sensation. Unexpected. Then a different kind of pressure, then pleasure. It wasn’t awful as had always been insinuated. It was debauched more than anything else, and he soon had you moaning and panting and wriggling back against his tongue which alternated between lapping at the hole and teasing in and out. It was when you pushed hard back against him that he pressed a kiss again there and pulled back.

“I know what you like.”

It wasn’t a brag; it was a statement of possession that sent a shiver through your body. Because he was right, and you couldn’t deny that.

“Now come here,” he said, pulling you by your hips up to kneel, presenting for him. “Such pretty folds.” His fingers circled your clit, then slipped briefly inside your cunt, drawing a happy gasp from you.

He grabbed his thick member and brushed the tip up and down over your sensitive parts a few times as you pushed up on your elbows, your back arched in a beautiful bow for him. When you looked over your shoulder at him, he finally sunk his cock into you. His hips pushed forward against you slowly until he was completely buried inside you, filling you, pressing so intimately into you. Fully sheathed, he stayed there for a moment, and he ran his hands over your hips and your lower back, caressing, relishing in the fill. He pulled back slowly, but only a couple of inches, then pushed back in, clearly wanting to relish in this for a moment. You had no desire to rush him either.

When his hands gripped your hips, you dropped your forehead to rest your forearm on the mattress, and then he began to fuck you, building a steady rhythm. He built up bit by bit, and you both let words and sounds fall out of your mouths as the physical feelings increased in intensity. Having been so close twice, when he finally moved a hand to rub expert circles into your throbbing clit, your body quickly responded in releasing your orgasm, and your spasming walls pulled him right along with you, and he came with a shout over your moans, a stuttered thrust, and then he continued a few more pushes, his hot spend coating your walls.

He wrapped an arm around your stomach and pressed kisses into your back, and you curled up into him with a hum of contentment.

When he pulled out, he reached over to the bedside table to retrieve a waiting damp hand towel – you shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d prepared to this detail – and then cleaned you up and then him before tossing it away. He stroked your back once more, then scooped you to your side, and pulled your naked and spent body to him so he could spoon up against you. You put your arm over his, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Stay?” he murmured simply into your ear.

This you didn’t answer immediately. You let your chest fill and empty with a few breaths, weighing your answer between your head and your heart. But neither of them fought to leave.

“Okay,” you finally breathed.

He settled in even closer, then reached for the sheets to pull up over the both of you. “I told you that first night that you would warm my bed.”

“Don’t be smug,” you protested.

“I’m not,” he insisted, and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I’m only pleased I’ve finally got you here.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes x you #devour au #aspen wrote something #bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #female reader

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cherigu · 1 year

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— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Personal Jeweler!

Genre: smut, established relationship Pairing: dom!jeongguk x sub!reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: degradation, fingering, finger-sucking, orgasm restriction, unprotected penetrative sex, crying (from pleasure ofc), possessiveness, slight overstimulation, aftercare

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The sound of the water from the bathroom connected to you and your boyfriend’s shared room abruptly stopped, finally letting you properly hear the K-drama that was currently playing on the TV. Your boyfriend had decided to treat you to a date earlier and took you to the luxurious Italian restaurant you’d been talking about for weeks. The both of you had come home pretty tired, Jeongguk deciding to take a quick shower after you finished using the bathroom to do your nightly skincare.

You were laid in bed, occupying yourself with a TV show while you waited for Jeongguk to join you in bed after a long night. The drama had long lost you with its twisted and confusing plot, leaving you with nothing to do but wait for your boyfriend to finish washing up. Your head perked up at the sound of the door opening, signaling that Jeongguk had at last come out. A quick glance was all it took for every ounce of drowsiness in your body to be replaced with excitement, making your core hot with arousal and unusually empty as you scanned your boyfriend’s body.

His long, wet hair dripped down his body while the rest stuck to his forehead. His bare face looked so kissable, making you resist the urge to run up and kiss him all over. The rolling water droplets led you to his toned, tan body which was on full display. The dampness gave his pecs and abs a nice sheen, highlighting all of the right places. The towel didn’t do much at covering him up, hanging low enough to expose his sharp V-line. You were practically drooling at the sight, wishing nothing more than for the towel to drop to the floor.

“My eyes are up here, princess” He raspily chuckled, secretly enjoying how you were eye-fucking him not that long ago. He began to walk closer to you while using a spare towel to dry up his hair. “Look a little too good for my liking” You muttered, taking the chance to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his abdomen while he ran his fingers through your hair. His sweet musky scent was going to drive you insane, making you need him impossibly closer.

You lifted your head to give him your best puppy eyes, something you did whenever you wanted a kiss. He smirked and leaned down to face level, giving you quick pecks before finally locking his lips with your own. He lazily kissed you, feeling like there was all the time in the world while he slowly devoured you. The hand tangled in your hair slowly moved down to your neck, giving it a light squeeze and sighing in approval at your reaction. The sound that came out of you was between a moan and a hum, hands inevitably traveling to the towel on his lower body before he pulled away.

“Gukkie.. How am I supposed to sleep now?” You whined and threw your head back in annoyance at the devilish smirk now plastered on his face.

“Don’t know, figure it out though ‘cause I’m tired as fuck.” He lied, only for the sole purpose of wanting to rile you up and hear you beg. You eyed him as he walked over to his side of the bed, taking out some boxers from the bottom drawer on his nightstand. You felt as if he were doing this on purpose, no way was he going to choose today of all days to sleep practically naked. Somehow his usual sleep attire had gone from sweats and a t-shirt to only boxers. At this you huffed. Being your boyfriend’s spoiled princess meant you got what you want, whenever you wanted. Tonight, however, seemed to be different.

The left side of the mattress dipped before the bedroom suddenly grew dark as Jeongguk had now turned off both the TV and lamp. “Goodnight baby, I love you” He turned to you while throwing the sheets over his body.

“Not fair..” You pouted, sitting up and crossing your arms. Jeongguk’s lips broke into a smile, finding you adorable but not quite yet wanting to give you what you wanted. He propped himself on one arm to reach your face and peck your lips, “Night, princess”

“Ugh..” you groaned, watching him fall flat on his back and close his eyes. You were hot and needy, and it didn’t help that you had already been holding yourself back all day. He had decided to wear a fitted suit to the date, all black with the top buttons of his dress shirt undone. If you had no respect for the people dining, you would’ve taken him right then and there.

You weren’t the only one who’d been holding back tonight. You had decided to match with Jeongguk by wearing a black silk dress, slit high enough to expose your beautiful long legs and low back cut to show your dimples of venus. The sight made him want to fuck you at least until the only word you knew was his name.

Jeongguk had been able to successfully hide his raging boner from you at the dinner, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t have made it home before having a quickie in the car had you seen it. He wanted to make you feel good without dealing with the limited space of his car’s backseat, needing the bed to bend you in all positions possible. But first, he wanted to make you wait like he had all night.

You got the idea of straddling him, giving him one more chance before you decided to rest even if that meant you’d go to sleep frustrated. “Baby..” you climbed onto his lap, kissing his face like you had wanted earlier. His lips twitched, very obviously fighting back a smile. This didn’t go unnoticed, motivating you to trail lower in hopes of him breaking. Your lips caressed his neck, occasionally pressing down in order to find his sweet spot.

Not only were your actions making it harder for Jeongguk to hold himself back, but his own body began to betray him as he felt his cock grow hard enough to connect with your core through the thin sheets. Your wet mouth on his neck and heat on his length made his head spin, the need to make you wait suddenly evaporating.

You were taken by surprise when Jeongguk flipped you onto your back without a warning, manhandling you from his lap in order to hover over you. Your lips parted with a gasp, shocked at Jeongguk’s sudden actions yet excited that your idea had worked.

“So fucking impatient, hm?” He groaned, slapping the side of your thigh with his tattooed hand. “Strip.” He ordered, watching you waste no time peeling off your clothes. He took a moment to drink in your body, the body he would never miss a chance to bury himself deep in. Frail neck he had marked with purple bruises endless times, perky tits he’d fuck after a long day, feeling your tongue repeatedly kitten-lick his tip, the waist that was molded perfectly for his hands to wrap around, everything about you was perfect to him.

“Tsk, such a needy slut. ‘S why you wore that dress tonight hm? Wanted me to fill up your tight cunt?” The second slap sounded louder, echoing throughout to room because of his hand’s contact with your now bare skin, but even then you couldn’t hold back your smirk.

He looked so hot above you. The arm he was using to prop himself up with was flexed, tempting you to mark him up everywhere, making sure anyone who stared would know he belonged to someone. His long locks hung above you, hooded eyes peeking through his bangs to hungrily stare at your lips. A detail you’d almost missed was the chain that hung from his neck. It was a simple, thin, gold chain with a small round pendant that had a “J” carved on it.

“And what if I did, you wore this chain ‘cause you knew it would hang in my face tonight huh?” You hooked a finger on the jewelry, using it to pull his face down close enough to seal your lips together in a heated kiss, letting him lap at your mouth like there was no tomorrow. His hand caressed your thigh, slowly feeling him inch lower which made your breath grow unsteady. Despite your lack of oxygen, you still found yourself whining when he pulled away.

“Do you like it?” He breathed out, to which you nodded in response. He pushed himself up to stand on his knees, bringing his hands to the back of his neck to unclasp the chain. “Lift up your head, baby” Still laying down, you separated your head from the pillow as you watched him secure the necklace around you.

“Fuck” Blood rushed to his cock, looking down at his initial snug between your bare tits would send him into a frenzy. Leaning back down, he caught your lips in a kiss again. “Do you even know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your lips, hand resuming its previous actions. The heat pooled in your stomach had been released as arousal, making your pussy all wet and sticky.

He dragged his middle finger through your folds with ease, never having to use lube when you were with him. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip making your brain grow foggy at how well he worked you up. A second finger came down to your sopping cunt to slowly spread your juices. The moans Jeongguk had to swallow for you were an indicator that you were enjoying this. “So wet just for me..” He mumbled.

“Mhmm inside..” your hips jerked up, impatient for the fingers circling around your nub to enter your clenching hole. At this, he retracted his hands only to earn him a string of whiny no’s. “So greedy but can’t even use her manners.” He taunted, brushing the hair out of your face. “Please.., baby, need you- ahh” You buried your face into the pillow next to you at the feel of his thick, long fingers pushing inside of you unexpectedly. The stretch of his two fingers entering you caused a slight ache, but still nothing in comparison to his rather girthy cock.

He began to languidly circle his fingers inside of you, wanting to prolong the pleasure before pumping inside of you. “Such a whore for my fingers, huh?” He chuckled, experimenting with a hard thrust of his digits. A long moan erupted from your mouth, forming an O-shape as he continued to pump slowly yet deeply. He knew his way around your body, having explored it one too many times. Even then, you will never grow accustomed to the pleasure that comes from his fingertips feathering around your g-spot.

All he had to do was curl his fingers into the spongy tissue to have you moaning incoherently under him. “Feel so.. F-fuck ‘m gonna cum, please” Your thighs began to squeeze around Jeongguk’s hand while your orgasm rapidly approached. “Be a good girl and hold in for me, yea?” He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to your mouth, “Open.”

You did as told and he shoved them in, cutting your voice short and stopping you from protesting before you even got a chance to. Tears coated your eyes as you gagged around his fingers, feeling him press down on your tongue while he used his free hand to rip off his boxers. His hard cock sprung out, making you whine in anticipation to be filled up. He pulled his fingers back with a pop, your mouth having sucked them clean. His hand trailed down to his hard-on, slapping the tip on your wet cunt shortly before rubbing it between your folds and groaning in the process.

Having stretched you out enough, he sharply thrust into you, “Ugh, just like tha-at, more” Your hands reached his back and sharply clawed down, imprints of your nails adorning his smooth skin as a reminder of tonight. “So dirty for me, love the way I fuck you open? Is that it?” He spoke between thrusts. “Fuck me so good… A-always so good” The sounds of his balls hitting your skin and squelching of your pussy along with Jeongguk’s huge cock had you fucked stupid.

“Yea? Fuck you so good ‘cause you’re mine” He shoved himself inside of you hard enough to prove a point. The constant impact had your tits bouncing, making the pendant of his necklace move with them. The sight of this alone had Jeongguk’s hips moving erratically against you, feeling your plush walls contract deliciously around his length. You took him so well, proving you were made just for him.

“Such a good pussy. All. Mine. Right?” He moaned in between pumps, eager to hear your whiny voice tell him what you were. “All y-yours, Jeongguk, always!” You cried out, needing nothing more than Jeongguk’s permission to reach your high.

Jeongguk was close, only needing your affirming words to shoot his thick load inside of you. “That’s right, only I can fuck you like this, make you squirm like this, you’re all for me baby” He wiped the line of drool that dripped down your cheek with his thumb. “Fuck, can't hold it!” Tears were dripping down your cheeks at this point, leaving a salty taste on your tongue as they rolled down into your mouth.

“Go ahead, pretty girl deserves to cum” He kept his attention on your tits with his chain, the view combined with your clenching walls made his hips stutter. The knot in your stomach had finally erupted, making you able to hear the blood rushing through your veins as bliss washed over you. Your vision had been long turned blurry due to the tears, ears choosing to block all sounds aside from Jeongguk’s deep moans. Your essence was now dripping down his thighs as he shot his own into you, continuing to rock his hips against yours to bury his seed deep inside. He pressed himself flush against your hot skin and held you.

It wasn’t until your legs began to shake that he pulled out, hearing your weak voice whisper “too much” under him.

“You okay, hun?” He asked, beginning to stand up to give you space after the overstimulation only to be pulled back down. “Stay, ‘m okay” you confirmed. “I’d love to, but I gotta clean us up and get you some water.” You whined but nevertheless loosened your grip in comprehension. “Be quick”

Safe to say he had cuddled you all night after that, soothingly combing your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you slept. He soon found himself dozing off with the happiest smile at the sight of the J so beautifully hung around your neck.

“It’s yours as long as you’re mine, y/n”

A/N: not to proud of this one but fuck it we ball

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you

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sant-riley · 2 years

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[ More task force 141 × OFC! reader headcanons] [pt2]

A/N: thank yall so much for all the love on the last hcs!! I hope these live up to yalls expectations <3 please tell me which ones are yalls favorites <3!!!

CW: She/her pronouns, Codename is Teddy, Simping, crude humor, Age gaps, cursing, British slander (if I miss anything, let me know!)

If you dye your hair, Ghost helps you dye it when y'all go on extended leave. The military doesn't allow unnatural colors so when you have a few weeks to a couple of months, he'll be the one to ask. "Cm'ere, I got the bleach already."

The guys like to go with her when/if she gets tattooed. Do they know what she's getting inked? Nope, but they like to keep her company and will go get her food if needed.

Teddy vocal stims,, alot. She has picked up on "Fuckin' hell" and it has yet to leave her brain and Ghost just stares in amusement. You can hear her echo it back to them once he says it on a mission.

Teddy is her codename but her nicknames vary from who's talking about her!

Ghost: Ted, Teds, Sweetheart, Runt

Soap: Bonnie, Rascal, Barra, Lass

Price: Rookie, Dear

Gaz: Love, Darling, Hun

They get on her ASS for being an American. They will poke fun at her every fucking chance esp if she speaks in slang.

Price shakes his head and tries to teach her the "proper" way of speaking but all she does is mock the accent. He has since given up.

The first time they see her off duty, it's shock. She looks so different when she's not in uniform, (if you have it: dyed hair, makeup) her normal civilian clothes. Soap is almost convinced it's not Teddy until she smacks him upside the head and calls him an asshole.

Being the first one to see Ghosts face because you're having a breakdown about all the murder and bullshit you've gone through, crying profusely and no one knows how to help bc everyone just shoves it down and represses it.

He trusts you, he knows he does so it doesn't take him much to take you into a secluded room and expose himself. He will say that seeing you silently stare up at him with awe made his feelings grow for you. He will not, but his heart definitely would.

Soap actively teaching you how to curse in Gaelic bc he thinks it's funny with your accent. Too bad you can barely understand when he tries teaching you so you're just kinda staring at him dead eyed.

Soap plays with your hair, alot. It soothes him to run his fingers through it or simply to yank it bc he's a little dickhead. He's the kind of person who'd let your hair routine and learn how to help you take care of it.

Ghost and Price straight up rustle your hair and thinks it's funny when you shove their hand away and get all huffy lmfao.

HELPING SOAP SHAVE HIS MOHAWK, there's no barber on base so you're the next best thing he has. Many of the team have walked in with Soap sitting between your legs bc he's way too fucking tall for you to cut his hair comfortably. Ghost walking in with you holding a razor to Soap's neck and just turning around and walking out immediately.

Price has given you a cigar to smoke, he knows for a damn fact you cannot handle it and laughs his ass off when you sputter. Top 10 favorite moments of his.

Gaz likes to give you British foods to try, he knows for a damn fact you will not like it.

"C'mon love, just one bite?" "I am not fucking eating beans on toast, you're insane." "It's a good meal!"

He gets so fucking mad when yall go to Las Almas and you devour the food there. Literally pouts bc he sees you with Alejandro and Rudy eating food and laughing together.

You play video games alot when on leave, please imagine trying to teach Ghost on the newer games that are out now. You make fun of him calling him an old man but he actually fucking wins potg/apex most of the time and looks at you smug as hell.

No one knows why you're called Teddy, so they all make up their own stories but you neither confirm nor deny. Soap says it's bc you're cuddly and cute like a teddy bear while Ghost says its bc you can maim someone like one. Duality of man.

Speaking of cuddling, it's not uncommon to have to huddle for warmth on missions. They all manhandle you to them and they all slightly do it differently.

Ghost sits you front to front with your chests touching While he sits up, arms around your waist with him playing with his knife, staring past your head and at the wall.

Price presses you into his side, a arm wrapped around your shoulders as he tells you stories about missions gone wrong, the smell of cigar smoke flooding your senses.

Soap also sits you on his lap with your back against his front while he buries his face in your hair. He tells you stories about his childhood and growing up with his mom, he wants yall to meet one day.

Gaz is usually the best prepared and has either a sleeping bag or a blanket, so he wraps it around yall making sure you're more covered than he is and sits close, yalls legs intertwined.

They worry so fucking much about you, you're young and while they have come to love and appreciate you, they can't help but wish you were anywhere else but here risking your life.

"You're too young to be here Kid." "And you weren't?" Ghost has to swallow down how much he wants to scream that he just wants you safe but he knows that's not his place, he isn't your boyfriend or husband.

Alejandro has doubts when everything goes to shit if they can trust you, since he hadn't seen much of you like he had with Ghost and Soap. But then he sees the way they speak about you and how these two burly strong men get a tender look in their eyes. He finds it funny but also feels great respect to you. It is not easy to get task force 141 to care so much about a new member but hey, you did it.

Alejandro takes you out dancing and drinking when you go back to visit Las Almas. He knows how to dance so fucking well and it's always a good time. He always has his hands on your waist and always makes sure you're okay with it. Perfect gentleman 10/10

Now Graves thinks that you're just some stupid kid but realizes quickly that while you can fight your own battles, you never need to. Just one look at Ghost staring daggers into his forehead is enough for him to swallow his tongue less it gets cut out.

Laswell treats you like her own kid, especially when she finds out if you have a bad home life. She always makes sure you're stocked up on necessaties at the base and invites you for lunch along with her wife often. She is the first one you call when you have anything personal to speak of and she is the mother figure you have while on missions.

Taglist <3 (If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!)

@tamayakii @teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel @marsbar127xx

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d0youc0py · 1 year

Note

I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!

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cvnt4him · 3 months

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Neighbors.

Week 1: new neighbor.

A loud knock at your front door woke you up out of your sleep. You choked on the huge amount of air that invaded your lungs when you inhaled, stumbling on your feet trying to go check the door. Your hair was a mess and you were stressed which is why you simply wanted to sleep your life away.

You open the door and look around to see no one there but a basket present on your door step. You him and pick it up, there were muffins and all kinds of baked goods inside with a little note on top and the cutest bow to tie it all together

Hi! I'm moving in next door and hope we can become good neighbors. #215 izuku midoriya.

For real? My guy couldn't have just spoken to you once he seen you? He had to be a good fucking guy? You sigh and shrug before closing the door and setting the baked goods down on your kitchen counter and heading back to bed, you'll be damned if you were gonna let some shitty neighbor ruin your one off day.

The baked goods had never gotten touched, they just sat as a decorative piece on your kitchen counter. You planned on throwing them out but the little bow was just too cute to give away, how frilly and pink it was. It was like the person who gave it to your knew exactly what you liked.

You sigh looking at them, they hadn't gone bad yet you could eat one if you wanted. You stare at them for a while before realizing, your supposed new neighbor gave you these so how come you've never seen them?

You groan and shake the thought away, you had to head to work and you don't have time to be worrying about some random loser. You grab your jacket before heading out of your house, locking the door behind you. You sigh while clutching your purse on your arm and stuffing your keys inside when you bumped into someone.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

"oh gosh.. I am so so sorry! are you alright?"

You fell to the ground with a groan barking insults up to the person who had the disrespectful nerve to knock you down. You open your eyes and look up at the strong bulky man in front of you, it was early and the lights outside of your apartment complex were still on so you couldn't exactly see his face. You couldn't exactly tell if his hair was black or not.

He offers you a hand to get up with which you hesitantly take, you just insulted and yelled at this innocent sexy man.. he must hate you! Which is just your luck, a strong sexy man is practically thrown at you by God and you insult him. God you're really good at making people leave.

"I truly am sorry. I should've been watching where i was going."

The man spoke to you again holding your hand in his still as he held perfect eye contact with you, trying to be professional and apologize for his wronging. You couldn't even speak from how beautiful he was now that you could see his face, his freckled chubby cheeks and his worried eyes leering down at you to assure you're alright.

"I.. I.. uhm, yes I am okay, thank you. I'm sorry too, I suppose it's not all your fault i played a part as well huh. Haha..."

You chuckle nervously trying not to embarrass yourself, there was a sexy man in front of you, you seriously cannot blow this. He offers you a light hum with a tilt to his head and a polite smile before speaking.

"I'm your new neighbor! I left you a basket of baked goods from the local bakery about a week ago, sorry I haven't had the time to actually speak to you, im awfully busy!"

Holy hell. He was your new neighbor? The guy who left the basket? Now you have another reason to save and not eat them. You stammer on your words with wide eyes trying to find something good to say as to not embarrass yourself.

"oh that was you? Hah yeah! I devoured those instantly! Thank you so much, you're so sweet! Id love to talk to you more if you'd have me y'know i wouldn't want to like-- bombard you with my presence or anything like you're a god I shouldn't even-- not that i think you're a god-- you know what im just going to stop talking."

You sigh heavily and mumble a low "for fucks sake.." under your breath. Could you be anymore embarrassing? You feel as if you could die from humiliation. The way his eyes widen from the way you ramble on and on about him being a god is so devastatingly humiliating, if the earth were listening you'd ask her to swallow you whole.

The man simply looks at you with a blank expression and wide eyes for a second before giggling above you. Your eyes shoot up to him, had you not just embarrassed yourself? Do you still have a chance?!

"I wouldn't say I'm a god, haha! You definitely aren't the first to say that anyways you have nothing to worry about."

He could tell you felt embarrassed by the way you squeezed your eyes shut and balled your fists, he didn't want you to feel embarrassed over something small! He got compliments of such all the time, some are even worse than that so he considered it high praise anyways.

You two just sat there staring at each other for a minute in your eyes it was the most awkward thing in the world. To him it was just fun between friends, the fact he considered you friends despite meeting this once is wild.

He looked down at you with those melancholy emerald green eyes, you could see the whole world in them. They were so big and bright and held nothing but love and kindness in them.. you would drown in them if given the chance.. the things you'd do to--

"oh! Gosh, I've gotta go! Uhm.. I hope to see you soon?"

"uh, yes! Yes, of course. We'll be seeing each other very soon."

You say confidently before pausing to realize how creepy your sentence sounded. He lifted an eyebrow at your words before brushing it off with a nervous chuckle and a wave goodbye before he jumped away, yellow cape billowing in the wind as he did so. You watched him live with a sigh, he was so hot yet so sweet you couldn't believe this guy was living next to you. Well to be fair these were rather pricey apartments so you could imagine him wanting to be somewhere that's very elegant. Your apartments were pretty beautiful. You sigh and shake everything out of your head and begin heading to work.

You sat at your desk staring out the window. There was nothing to be done at the office today and you were just there mindlessly drifting in a space you didn't want to be in. A knock at your office door took you by surprise, you were startled and whipped your head around to see your supervisor. God you hated this guy, he never knew how to take a hint. He always helplessly flirted and did outdated and annoying pick up lines on you, you didn't want him to feel bad about himself so you always laughed or played like it was good. Unfortunately today you just didn't have it in you to entertain him.

"hey, y/n! How are you today, sweetheart?"

Ugh. What a pig. He could not be serious right now. 'sweetheart' ? disgusting. He was truly working your nerves and he'd hardly even spoken to you. You sigh heavily before fixing your posture and leading your throat.

"I'm here."

"cool cool. So uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out for drinks with me and a couple of the guys? Since y'know you helped us back those new investors? You're really great at what you do and you're so smart and--"

He started going on and on and on about how cool and smart and sophisticated you are. It was all bologna, he didn't give a shit about you or how smart you were. He just wanted to get into your pants and it was heavily obvious. So much so that you didn't have time to entertain this type of energy.

"look, I don't think so. Not tonight atleast, I mean I have a thing and--"

"please? You don't want to let me down so you? I'd hate to have to put in a bad word in front of our boss.. so could you just come?? For me?"

This motherfucking cunt. He was really gonna blackmail you into having drinks with a bunch of men who thought you didn't belong there? Just because you were a woman? You could not believe this was the hill you were dying on.

"fine.."

You let out lowly and defeated. You were successfully manipulated by some sleazy putz. You could only pray to God this schmuck keeps his word and doesn't say anything bad about you.

"atta girl."

He says with a smirk before walking off eyeing you through your office window. You were sick to your stomach at the thought of whatever was going on inside of his mind.

You sat between a couple of guys who all laughed loudly and looked at the game, they had a few too many drinks and were pretty drunk. You hated being around this kind of energy, it was uncomfortable but if you were going to run that empire one day you needed to be in with the crowd. You had another swig of your drink and chuckled nervously at the lame joke.

"and then I said; you'd have to let it from my cold dead hands!"

"mmm- couldn't have said it better myself, sir."

You say lowly raising your glass along with the other men at the table. They all laugh and silence then fills the table. You gulp down and look around to see them all looking at you. You felt so uncomfortable and nervous and so out of place. You'd never been this socially awkward in your life.

You couldn't figure out why they'd all looked at you like that. Until you looked down to see one of your buttons on your blouse was unbuttoned it showed the top of your boobs perfectly. You hadn't felt it unbutton so you had no idea that it was. You cleared your throat and covered yourself with your jacket before everyone looked away and fell into weak conversation about whatever came to mind.

Being the only woman sucked. This was your life and you hated it. However this put food on the table and got you away from your family so. If this is what it took you figured you could suffer a little while longer until you took this business off from under them. They were all old and uninformed with the new world we're all coming into, you however were prepared so the second you get these investors to recognize you were the real talent and brains behind this empire they'd hand it right to you. You'll be rich.

"I'm going to head out everyone. Have a goodnight."

You bow before walking out of the bar. You couldn't get out fast enough. You exited the building with a breath of fresh air. Being in there with all of those men was suffocating. You couldn't wait to read in the comfort of your own home.

"wait! Y/n! Where are you going? I thought you were gonna hang out with us?"

"i did. For 3 hours straight. I've had far too many drinks and I feel nauseous and it's raining quite hard. I'd like to go home."

You bowed slightly bidding him a good night one last time before trying to leave. He balled his fists and got rather angry with your words. He grabbed you by your wrists and yanked you into his chest, he held you closely with an angry face. His grip on your body and wrist tightened and you could smell the disgusting scent of the alcohol on his breath. It was nauseating.

"where the hell are you going. I told you to stay. You said you were.. were going to hang out with us. You don't want me to tell the boss about how you've been slacking, do you?"

You were terrified, he was drunk and being very rough with you. His grip continued to tighten around your wrist hurting you, you groan and try to push him away before he punches you. His rings bust your lip. You fall to the ground clutching your face in pain. You didn't want to appear weak.. so why had tears started falling down your face? Why couldn't they stop coming down.

"oh.. sh- shit y/n.. I'm so so sorry I didn't.. didn't mean to do that. You- you made me!"

He spoke trying to justify his actions, slurring on his words and hiccuping in between. You sniffled trying to get up holding onto the wall for a clutch. You could not believe this just happened. You were just assaulted by your supervisor. Someone in much higher power than you. You weren't dumb, you knew and were sure that if you even attempted to tell your boss to find a way to turn it around on you. There were few women working in that business and you were in a higher department than them all. You were just going to have to suck this up and push through it.

The man clears his throat and just looks down at you, he tries to help you up but you refuse. You push his arm away and simply get up on your own. You sniffle before spitting the blood that invaded your mouth onto the ground and walked away. You tried to hurriedly get across the street before the cars started moving again. The man called out for you telling you to wait but was stopped by the cars instantly zooming through the wet street.

You finally made it to your apartment wet, shaking, bleeding and in tears. This was something you never imagined would happen to you. You couldn't believe you'd just been assaulted and there was nothing you could do about it. You were helpless to help yourself. You rummage through your to try and find your keys you end up dropping your bag and breaking down. You fell to your knees and covered your face in your hands everything slipped out of your bag and the fact it fell made you even angrier. It was hard to find your keys and now everything was splayed out on the ground.

You were too busy having a mental breakdown to hear the heavy footsteps thudding behind you.

"y/n... Are you okay?"

You gasped lightly and whipped your head around to see the #1 hero himself. Standing above you before kneeling down to help you gather your things. You just look at him with wide puffy red eyes as he gathers your things and puts it all back into your purse for you. He stands and offers you a hand, you just look at him with a shaky breath before hesitantly taking it. He pulls you up into him and your face came flush with his chest.

You stayed there for a lot longer than intended before pulling back and clearing your throat. You sniffle and wipe your face with your hands before grabbing your back and fetching your keys from the ground. You turn back to him with a half assed smile that he seen right through.

"I'm perfectly fine, deku! Thank you for your concern!"

You say before trying to turn around to unlock your door. Before he grabs you by your shoulders and turns you to face him. He looked so concerned he couldn't help but gaso once he seen your lip.

"what happened to your lip."

"nothing-"

"y/n."

God.. the way he used your name against you was just too much. You didn't know if you wanted to cry or kiss him. You go down before fixing your hair and looking down to the ground.

"got into a fight with my coworker."

"are you sure that's it?"

"yes."

He didn't believe you. He seen right through your bullshit. He was rather stubborn as well he was going to stop pestering until you told him.

"I'm serious, y/n. What happened."

"nothing."

His eyes squinted before he pushed your door open and walked you inside. Was this motherfucker seriously just waltzing inside of your house like he owned the damn place?

"what are you--"

"hush. Where's your first aid kit."

"in the bathroo-- are you seriously about to rummage through my shit!?"

You yell as he walked away the second you got out where the kit was hidden. This guy was. A hero sure but why was he acting like your boyfriend. Or your dad. It was weird. Kinda hot but weird.

He came back with the kit and sat you down in your dining room chair, he set the first aid kit on the table opened it and grabbed what he needed. He had an alcohol wipe and he tly dabbed at you cut lip, you winced and closed your eyes from the slight burn of the cold wipe.

He finished cleaning you up and closed the kit and disposed of what he used.

"there you are, all fixed. Now are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to cook you dinner as well."

Yes please!

"no thank you. I'm fine."

"alrihht so tell me what happened."

"oh no I want I'm fine with not telling you what happened, I'll take the dinner thanks."

You say with a wink that makes a slight blush fall onto his cheeks. He sighs and heads into your kitchen, you chuckle to yourself and watch him go as you see the baked goods he gave you about a week ago. You told him that you are them all! Fuck he's gonna know you lied.

He stopped halfway into your kitchen before slowly turning to face you with a suck to his teeth. He hums and puts his hands. On his hips, fuck he looked so sassy and good like that..

"what happened to eating all of those baked goods?"

"i threw them all up..?"

"uh-huh."

He rolled his eyes with a smirk before opening them and grabbing you a muffin, he felt that you needed to eat and in actuality he was far too tired to cook. He doesn't know why he insisted on cooking for you as if he intended on cooking for himself.

"here. Eat up."

You look at it then up to him, you take it peeling the wrapper off then taking a bite. It was actually pretty good.

"thanks.. but what happened to cooking for me, eh, big boy?"

He gets quite flustered at the name a slight shade of pink dusting his cheeks before he clears his throat.

"just eat the damn muffin."

You chuckle and finish it as he takes your scraps and disposes of them for you. He was quite a gentleman. You didn't expect anything less from a hero after all.

He ended up staying for a little while longer, the two of you trailing off into random things you could talk about. Like jobs and favorite snacks and things you like to do in your free time. Just all sorts of random things. The current topic was what he moved here.

"well.. I just moved agencies and needed to be closer to it. I have a lot of locations but this is the one that needed my attention most and they basically just sent me here. This is only temporary."

Fuck. Temporary? You hadn't wanted this to be temporary you wanted it to last a lifetime. You feel like you know him and he knows you, like you're soulmates. You try not to show how down you are due to what he's just shared to you and respond with a slight hum. He noticed however, he was very good at reading people.

"something wrong?"

"no.. nothing at all."

He hums knowing you're lying. Something tells him that this is going to be your relationship for the rest of the time that he's here. Deku didn't really think when he acted, he grabbed you by chin and craned your face up to look at him. He had a stern face while he leered down at you, his Babyface looking so adorable the way he tried to be serious with you.

You were surprised by this and looked up at him with wide eyes. God he was so attractive and it's like he was so comfortable with you. Or maybe he did this with all of his fans, or people he just knew. Maybe he was a natural flirt, was he flirting? God what's going on.

He could tell you were deep in thought and that bothered him. He intended on making you feel better and yet you still seemed to be down. He didn't know what to do. Yet the only thing you could seem to think about was trying not to kiss him. You felt like you were moving closer to him and you were, he was too deep in his own mind to realize how much closer the two of you were getting.

With no thought in mind you gently grabbed his cheek with your hand and kissed his lips. His eyes widened at what was happening, he was so shocked that you had kissed him but hadn't wanted to pull away. You sighed into the kiss before pulling away, your breath slightly taken away. You kept your eyes closed because you could only imagine the heartbreak you were about to experience. You were sure he was going to let you down gently of course because he's just that kind of guy, but either way heartbreak is heartbreak.

It was silent but only for a moment before he cleared his throat causing you to look up at him and lick your lips before looking away quickly. You sniffle and turn your head to look at the ground biting the inside of your cheek. The silence was unbearable and you felt like killing yourself.

Deku didn't know how to react, he was mostly just speechless he didn't intend to give off that kind of vibe to you.. he just wanted to be a friendly neighbor.

"so uhm I'm gonna head out, if you're sure you're alright?"

He says standing and turning to you before heading towards the door. You were too nervous to speak so you just nodded aggressively before he hummed and walked out closing the door behind himself.

You could not believe you just kissed the number 1 hero.

AN: I feel like this is gonna flop bc it isn't smut n I'm mostly known for that but like I enjoyed making this and can't wait to make a pt2 it might take a while bc well...... Yeah. But uhm. Yeah!

#cvnts-post #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya #izuku #midoriya izuku #deku

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 8 months

Text

Scared

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: ANGST, big feels, hurt comfort, possession?, hurling insults at each other, Astarion being a little scary, fluff ending

---------------------------------

“How could you!” Astarion shouted.

“How could I? It’s a book Astarion, it's not that deep.” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Knowledge is for all, not just you.” you snapped at him.

“I’m not upset you read it, I’m upset you took it from me without asking.” he corrected you in a harsh tone.

“I didn’t think it was a problem, you told me I could borrow books…” you looked at him with confusion.

“Not that one! The Necromancy of Thay is not just some book.” he looked at you with disbelief. How could you be so naive and reckless?

“I’m a fucking cleric Astarion! Magic is kinda my whole purpose!” your dedication to Kelemvor was unquestionable and he was debating you about this? This book that could grant you a gift that Kelemvor had not? Speaking to the dead would be a godsend as clergy for the god of the dead, traveling across Faerun to gods know where.

“Do you understand the danger of that book? No, you don’t, because you're a petulant child who steals others toys when they can’t have them. All you do is take!” he yelled.

You froze. That was a real insult. This wasn’t a little spat anymore, this was a fight. Your first fight in the whole 10 months together. Your heart cracked a bit, but you filled with fire at his harshness.

“I take? I borrowed a book for a few hours. You literally take my fucking blood out of me daily. Do you know what that feels like over time? It hurts.” your voice wavered slightly but you held strong.

“But you were oh so willing as long as I was fucking you while I did it!” that was dirty and untrue and he knew it. He said the most hateful thing he could think of and he knew it would cut you deeply.

Your eyes widened, your mouth hung open. “You think this is about sex?.... You conceited jackass! This is about me being in pain for weeks on end and you being too oblivious to see it. Maybe I am nothing more to you than dinner.” you laughed to yourself, the absolute arrogance of this man had you baffled.

Astarion marched towards you, his face was unfamiliar. All scrunched up in a way you had never seen directed at you. His crimson eyes were practically glowing with rage. He pushed you back so you were trapped between the desk and his arms. He put his face near yours, he sounded like an animal. The growl in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Maybe I should drain you dry…” he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, fangs barely grazing your neck.

You whimpered and tears flowed down your face. You were legitimately scared. Astarion always asked before he bit you. Yet here he was, threatening to drain you with his fangs at your throat. Your body shook and you let out a sob, trying desperately not to move as you knew his fangs could tear you apart.

The sob was what cleared his mind. As soon as he heard it all the anger in him disappeared and he just felt sad. He had never seen you cry and the fact that you were now, because of him, it devoured him from inside. He backed up two paces, you flinched when he moved so quickly and it was like a shard of ice into his heart to know he scared you.

“Darling I… I’m sorry… I wasn’t going to… I didn’t mean to scare you” he said, holding his arms out in front of him, surrendering to you.

You pushed yourself against the desk, desperate to be away from him. Your arms crossed your chest, holding yourself. “Please… don’t hurt me…” you mumbled. He saw the fear in your eyes.

“I would never…” he said, his eyes were big and round and yet you were terrified. “Please my love, I don’t know what came over me…” he looked at his new ring, it was glowing a soft red.

You looked to where his eyes were, you immediately recognized the ring. The Circle of Malum. It brought out the wearers worst emotions, and turned them cold. Hostile; in exchange for great strength and cunning wisdom. “Take that off…” you pointed at his ring, still too afraid to touch him.

“What?” he questioned, sounding defensive.

“The ring is changing you Astarion… You’re not yourself…please love…” you spoke out in a hushed tone, still nervous.

Love. You still loved him? How strange he thought. He looked between you and the ring before flinging it off his finger. It felt as if it was burning him once he knew the truth of its devious exchange. “Little love… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean anything I said… I was so angry I - I… I felt out of control.”

You looked deep into his eyes. No malice, not a single hint of irritation. You saw fear and love, both of which were directed at you. You cautiously moved towards him, hands gently reaching for his face. You tilted his chin up, looking into his eyes. All you could see was the guilt on his face and the sorrow that was radiating off of him. “It's ok, you're ok.” you whispered.

He nodded before he pulled you into a hug. A few stray tears of his landed on your shoulder. You stayed like that for a while.

“I love you…” he whispered with a small smile.

You wiped the last of the tears from under his eyes before kissing his cheeks. You glanced down at his lips, his eyes watching you flit back and forth. He leaned in but you closed the space. Gentle, like he was afraid of breaking you. “I love you.” you leaned your forehead against his, breathing him in.

“Were you able to finish the book?” he asked after a few moments.

You smiled at him, such a curious little thing he was. “Yes.”

“And?” he said, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“And… Now I can speak to the dead.” you said, pride building in you.

“Think you can help me read it?” he asked, taking your hand.

You kissed him quickly, “I think I can manage that.”

He smiled, for what felt like the first time in days.

--------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! I hope this is a good one for ya! Idk I was in my angsty sad girl hours and this was the product. Hope you are all doing well <3 As always, thank your for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Talk soon XOXOXOXOXXOXOOXOXOOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXO!!!

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mynameis-noe-body · 11 months

Note

Can you do a marquis one shot where the reader works as a tailor/assistant/spy for the marquis but they’re also really innocent/upbeat . As he gets to know the reader, he finds himself going from confused that they’re so cheery to loving them as they are to corruption kink?

Thank you for your patient, anon. 🖤 I hope you'll love this.

This add to a second request I recieved.

➡️ Also cause I saw you mentioned a corruption kink, one with the marquis de framing would be fantastic 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️

I didn't quite understand, but here is corruption kink fo you. I hope you'll love this as well.

Little dove

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F)

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (one shot)

“Oh, Marquis De Gramont — what a pleasure to have you here!” you exclaimed, seeing him enter your shop. You walked towards him, holding the door open and showing him your best smile. “I just got an absolutely cheeky outfit that you will love, exactly your size.”

Vincent smiled. By now he had gotten into the habit of frequenting your shop at least once a week. He didn't lack money, nor time; he loved spending a few hours on a Saturday afternoon exploring the embellished and sumptuous dresses in your shop. And most of all, he loved spending time with you.

So joyful, friendly, sweet — a little macaron. Such a lovely pastry. You were an extraordinary creature, in his eyes. He, who had seen so much death, who had held so much power—he looked at you and found such innocence in your gaze. It was a part of you that was impossible not to love.

He cleared his throat, with a wave of his hand he ordered his second to leave the shop, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone. That was his moment of pleasure.

The first time he entered your shop, fascinated by the silk garments and elegant suits, the shiny patent leather shoes and the cashmere coats, Vincent believed that he would find the usual snooty shopkeeper who would try to raise the prices by realizing his status. But no, you were there. So excited to be able to show off your best suits and dress him up like a fucking prince. Vincent had to call two of his men and a second car to be able to load everything he had purchased and take it home. You had shaken his hand, you had thanked him, you had given him a discount (even!) and you had suggested that he come back soon; you would have been happy to have such a passionate customer in your shop. Vincent might have believed it was a matter of money... but upon returning, noticing the way your gaze lit up when it met his, he changed his mind. You had fun with him. You loved your job. You were excited, happy… innocent. So pure. A sweet, little pastry, in fact.

Once, arranging the collar of his shirt while he was looking at himself in the mirror, you had asked him with a certain veiled embarrassment: “Monsieur De Gramont, forgive my impudence, but I really want to ask. What is your occupation?”

He had laughed. “Are you asking me about my job?” You had blushed, you had apologized stepping back but he had turned around, taking your hand before you could move away. "No need to be embarrassed, cheri. I find your curiosity quite... charming." Your cheeks were colored the sweetest red. He had lifted your hand to his lips, leaving the ghost of a kiss on your fingers. "I am a businessman. Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont, at your service."

He had been absolutely lovely. And he, from that moment on, had wanted in the most perverse, craziest, most intense way, to ruin you completely.

Vincent had noticed the way you watched him, so constantly attentive to every curve of his body, the way his muscles filled your clothes, stretching the fabric, wrapping it in the most attractive way. Your intoxicating gaze devoured him, and he was dying to have your hands on him, your desperate eyes, your mouth praying for his benevolence. So submissive, and desperate. Corrupted by your own will, by the desire and pleasure that only he could have brought you.

That day, without exception, you stood behind him while he looked at himself in the mirror and admired himself. But soon, his blue eyes met yours in the reflection. He smiled.

“What do you think, my dear?”

You nodded, your face bright. “That shade of red is definitely your color.”

His eyebrow rose in mock surprise. He caressed the fabric of the jacket with his fingertips, but secretly watched the way your gaze only followed his touch. Bewitching, indeed.

“I like the jacket. I love it. This scarlet is... fiery. Don't you think?” Your eyes flickered up again, and you nodded without adding anything, attempting a shy smile. "And the pants? Do I wear them well?" It was impossible not to notice the way you blushed and swallowed slowly. He bit back a satisfied grin. With his hands on the belt, he gripped it, lifting it a little. “Look at me.”

He nodded. “Maybe I should sit down, and try to feel them.”

And you looked at him. He had them so tight — you could see everything. All of it. You had to fight against your instincts and force yourself to seek his eyes again. You smiled. “I think they are perfect, monsieur.”

Vincent sat gracefully in the armchair next to him, and sighed. There was nothing innocent about his smile. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, he spread his legs. His right hand, on his thigh, went up his leg, stopped right there, so close to his —

“Sweetheart” he interrupted you, laughing loudly. You turned your eyes, deeply embarrassed and red in the face, but he seemed almost happy with your obvious reaction. “Oh, don't get all shy now, my dear.” He made himself more comfortable in the armchair, spreading his legs in an almost vulgar, cheeky way. God, he loved that game. “Come on, look at me. I know you like it. I see you — the way you look at me — and I bet you're not as fragile and innocent as you want me to think, are you?”

Now you looked at him, with your mouth slightly open and your eyes large, wide and full of bewilderment, your cheeks scarlet, your voice trembling as you stammered an apology.

He shook his head, and his face darkened. “No. I will not accept your apology” he hissed. He raised his finger and motioned for you to come closer. “Come here, little dove.”

He wanted you to stand between his open legs, and immediately his left hand grabbed your hip, while with his right he was already unbuttoning his trousers. He licked his lips like a lion at his delicious meal, hungry, ravenous. “Keep looking at me, don't look away, I know you like it” he said.

And look at you, completely disarmed, dominated by that crazy and irrational desire that he wasn't offering to satisfy, on the contrary, it was fomenting your obsession. He was a fascinating man. And a very passionate one, from what you could see. Without any shame he pulled his hard length out of his trousers, stroking himself slowly, showing you all his virility, his silky skin, his intense hardness. He was perfect.

“And I thought you were so pure, innocent” he whispered, with a certain satisfaction. "But now I see how wrong I was, you little pervert. You like watching me, don't you? Ma petite voyeur."

But his hand suddenly slipped between your legs, he lifted your skirt without shame, found your panties already so wet for him and smiled — he smiled, the bastard.

“I — oh, Marquis, I'm mortified. I didn't mean to —”

“Don't you dare apologize again. I want to hear other sounds from your mouth.”

And his fingertips pressed against the little knot of nerves, right there, causing a vibration of pleasure throughout your body. If you were honest, that exposure and embarrassment only inflated your excitement.

“You're already shaking for me.” His voice was deep, controlled. “Tell me anything you want. I want to hear you pray. I know you can. Tell me, and I will satisfy your every curiosity.”

You breathed, your sigh became labored, panting. “Please, Marquis, I...”

He laughed. His hand continued to touch his member, so hard, up and down, and you could do nothing but watch as your intimacy became wet and your hunger grew without rest. "You what, my dear? Do you want me? Is that it? Do you want my hand, my mouth?"

You nodded.

“No — no, love. Tell me.”

You swallowed, searching for a small voice in your chest. "I want you."

“What do you want?”

"All of you!" his fingers moved the panties, you finally felt his touch on you. And, hungrily, they sought the little wet hole between your soft lips. You could hear the sticky sound of your arousal on his fingers.

“Again, tell me more.”

“Your fingers, they're so — oh, oh please. Inside!”

He licked his lips. “What a good girl. You know your manners. But I don't want you so innocent darling, we know how dirty you really are, don't we?”

You shook your head, but you couldn't deny the truth to yourself.

“Tell me you're mine, tell me how much you want me.”

On the verge of tears, humiliated and excited, you nodded. “I'm yours, all yours. I — I want you so bad.”

His fingers slipped inside you, sweet and intense, touching all those perfect spots that made you moan all your pleasure. And you closed your eyes, for a moment. He stopped.

“Nu-uh, eyes on me. You like to watch. Tell me you like it.”

Yes, yes. “I love it. You are...”

“What? Don't be afraid. I want to hear everything.”

“Perfect. Your body, your...”

Oh, you were still so embarrassed. No, he wanted more. Vincent stood up suddenly, mistreated you hard, pushing you onto the chair. So, still dressed, he knelt over you, tickling your pussy lips with the head of his hard cock. You were dying of pleasure, and you looked at him excited and scared at the same time.

“I know you want it — say it. Tell me you're my little slut, tell me you want my hard cock inside you. Say it!”

And you cried, pleading. “I'm everything you want! Your whore, your tight cunt, your little slut — just give it to me, fuck me hard, now!”

And Vincent finally obeyed.

He fucked you, hard and deep, with an unprecedented ardor, grabbing your hair, your neck, biting your lips, spitting on your tongue.

“More, use me!” you begged. "Yours, only yours! I love it! Fuck my cunt — my ass. Yes, spit on my tongue, and fuck me like you mean it!”

“Dirty, dirty girl” he growled. His fingers dug into your thighs. "I knew you were a slut underneath, all mine. My little voyeur, my bad, dirty girl. That's it, take it, take it all!”

The contractions of your orgasm milked his cock, every drop of his come inside you. And you panted his name, and every dirty thing, now corrupted by that pleasure and prey to a will stronger than you. Your every word was honey. He came inside you, on top of you, making you dirty inside and out.

And looking at you like this, ruined for him, Vincent understood that you were no longer the innocent, sweet girl he thought he had met the first time.

#marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent bisset de gramont #vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader #smut

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theragethatisdesire · 6 months

Text

quick bright things - eren jaeger x afab!reader, 18+!!

okay hi. after my many-months writing hiatus, i am offering up this humble creation. welcome to the world of quick bright things, caught somewhere between a fairytale and a shakespeare play and a priceless piece of jewelry. this was inspired by....a lot of things, from midsummer night's dream to saltburn to the secret history to romeo & juliet like, you name it and i've probably crammed it in here. eren is a lot different than i normally write him (or read him, for that matter), i hope you all find him as lovely as i do! this will be 2 parts (for now...), i'm not sure what else to say except i'm happy to be back and i hope you all love part 1 ₊˚⊹♡

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

wc: 10.4k

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

cws: alcohol, swearing, smut, fingering, reader has female anatomy, wet dreams, allusions to cannibalism (idk that's a stretch it's more of a metaphor), exhibitionism, cum-eating, creepy stepsiblings, rich assholes, throat-closing amounts of sexual tension, i honestly don't even know what to put here

without further ado...

"Last year I abstained / this year I devour / without guilt / which is also an art."

“Now don’t forget: university is for discovery, for adventure.” Your mother tucks the front of your shirt into your skirt, tugs at your collar until it’s sitting prettily against the cliff of your collarbones. It’s not a good fabric, this shirt; it’s cheap and scratches uncomfortably at the summer sunburn still lingering on your chest. “It’s for finding your passions, your life path, yourself…”

“Darling, you’ve been philosophizing since breakfast. You’re going to give the poor girl a conniption.” Your father chuckles lightly, swinging the hammer at the wall of your dormitory and finishing the hanging of one of your many posters over your creaky, lofted bed. The posters are bright and colorful, almost garish in the pristine, ancient light pouring in from the windows. With a slow blink, you realize you’re going to take them down later, that they feel incongruous with the dust particles and the oak furniture.

“It’s alright, really.” You manage a smile of compromise, lips clamped tight to hold the flutter of nerves in your throat at bay. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

There’s an expectedly teary goodbye, a small monologue from your father about how much you’ve grown, and a few reminders from your mother to separate the darks and the lights when you do laundry, to focus on your studies. Just before she slips out behind her husband, she grabs you by the shoulders and presses her lips to the side of your head, kisses a blood-red print into the shell of your ear.

“Don’t forget. Find something.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Whether it started with that conversation or with the buildup that accompanied the thirty-six months of monotonous paper-writing and numb boredom of your first three years at Oxford, you can’t be sure. In truth, maybe your first three years weren’t all that boring, and they only seem so by comparison of everything that came after, but you can’t be entirely sure of that either.

What you can be sure of is that something down the line—between meeting Sasha in that class on Milton and squeezing her hand as the plane landed and the dozens of bottles of champagne you’ve consumed over the last weeks—something led you to this moment, standing in this kitchen somewhere outside Verona with your bare feet against the hot clay tiles, staring at the sharp angle of an unfamiliar, tanned collarbone.

He’s coated in linen: a half-unbuttoned, burnt-orange drape of a shirt is rolled carefully up around strong forearms, and one large, boyish foot peeks out from his baggy jeans, propped up on its throne upon the opposite knee. A golden cross winks at you from his chest, nestled in the sparsest dusting of chest hair and dripping with the same peach juice that’s sliding down his Adam’s apple, from his strong chin, from the crooked smirk that’s pointed at you like a knife.

You recognize him before he speaks– this must be Eren. Sasha’s mentioned him enough times: the shock of rich, dark hair, the lakewater eyes, the way he leans back in his chair like a king and cocks his head like a trickster. This is Eren, and you tell him so.

“Guilty.” The sun compliments everything about him but his smile, a little too sharp with too much danger behind it. It’s a smile made for moonlight. “And you are?”

A memory surfaces in your mind, a cautionary childhood tale. “You can never let a fairy know your name,” Emma tells you, graver than death, crouched in the bushes beside you, “or they steal you away, and you can never be human again.”

“Well?” Eren says expectantly, head leaning even further to the left. He’s studying you, the baggy linen pants pooling around your toes and ruby-studded ears poking out of a fray of frazzled bedhead. You feel naked, feel a wild urge come over you and wonder how his eyes would glow at you if you were. You shiver, goosebumps raising in the stuffy summer air. When his lips twitch, you realize Eren’s noticed; you feel feverish.

You mumble your name at him, as if it’s something given unwillingly. Waking the espresso machine seems like the right thing to do with your hands, and you’re grateful for the noisy mechanical sounds it provides to shatter the still morning. You bring an absentminded hand to rub over the tip of your ear, feel if it’s grown to a point yet.

“We haven’t met, have we? I feel like if we had, I’d remember.”

God, you wish he’d stop talking.

“Well, do you go to Oxford?”

“Sometimes.” You roll your eyes, and he laughs, little bells and glass shattering. “I’ve been abroad for the last semester. I flew in from Egypt a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hm,” you hum to yourself, choosing a small red cup for your morning coffee. You aren’t sure what to say; the most exotic place you’ve ever visited was a seaside town three hours from your house.

You can hear his newspaper crinkling; the sound of him putting it down betrays his arrival behind you, but you still don’t expect the puff of warm breath over your shoulder. He comes into your space like he belongs there, like there’s never been a door that wasn’t held open for him to stride through. “Are you still asleep?”

Before you can answer, you hear a shriek from down the hallway, and you breathe a little sigh of relief, thanking whatever ancient gods that belong to the hills you’re in for the interruption. Venus springs to mind, and you swat her and her entourage of Graces away from you with a huff.

“You absolute asshole!” Historia comes barreling into the kitchen, dramatic, fluffy dressing robe spilling out into the unrelenting summer heat behind her. You realize that in the three weeks you’ve spent with her, you haven’t once seen her in the actual kitchen, watching the way the breakfast chef’s eyes widen at the sight of her as he hurries by with an armful of eggs.

“Stori!” Eren elegantly catches her best attempt at a tackle with the good grace you assume he does everything with, breaking out into a warm peal of laughter. “Since when do you not love a surprise?”

“Since always.” Historia’s face is scrunched up where she’s buried it into the crook of his neck, forehead red with the effort of squeezing Eren as hard as she can. “You could have at least called, I mean– ugh, I didn’t even get the chance to get your favorite–”

“Relax.” Eren urges her, rubbing soothing circles into the small of her back. He carries them both over to his seat, plopping down and curling her up in his lap like a child. Eren holds his cup of coffee to her lips temptingly, and Historia shoves it away with another scowl. You hide your giggle at her antics behind your espresso, not wanting to remind them of your presence, but enjoying the show all the same. “Brat.”

“Ow,” Historia hisses when he pinches her thigh, expression lightening when she catches sight of something on the wall. “I always forget how pretty the kitchen is here.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Still getting dressed.” Historia’s blue eyes turn to the frescoed ceiling with an irritated huff. “You know he can’t stand to be seen in his pajamas.”

“That’s because he doesn’t wear any,” Eren remarks with an eye roll of his own. “You could have called to let me know we’d adopted such a pretty houseguest for the summer.”

Your face burns with acknowledgement, and you can feel your toes curling into the clay bricks of the floor hard enough to scrape the tip of your pinky. Eren seems satisfied at your bewilderment, letting his eyes drag over your hardly-covered chest lazy as a wandering mouth.

“Why would anyone wear pajamas under those heavy duvets? It’s almost thirty-two degrees out.” Armin breezes in in a feigned display of nonchalance, but you can see the way his eyes skim over Eren like a ship narrowly avoiding an iceberg. The Titanic was inevitable, and so is the gravity of Eren sitting golden on the other side of the room.

“You look good, Min.” Eren squints his eyes at Armin’s shirt, nearly identical to his own. “Where’d you get that?”

“You left it last summer,” Historia hums, tucking her head under Eren’s chin and nuzzling into his chest more completely. Armin makes a soft snort of irritation, grabbing for a fig in the bowl of fruit on the counter and beginning to rummage through the cabinet drawers.

“Do you want half a fig?” Armin’s cool gaze slides to you, and you shake your head, feeling a little underwater as two lifelong relationships unfurl in front of you, your mind still fuzzy from last night’s wine. “Historia?”

Historia says no as Eren says yes, and Armin makes his sound of annoyance again before continuing his rummaging, muttering about the inconvenience of finding a knife.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Sasha, still disheveled with sleep and grinning bright as Christmas morning, pops her head around the doorway. “Shouldn’t you be overseeing the construction of your pyramid?”

“I’m not dead, Sasha,” Eren laughs—it really is distracting when he does that—pulling Sasha onto his other knee, ignoring Historia’s grumbles of discontent. The NYU Men’s Lacrosse t-shirt that Sasha cropped too short rides up, exposing the swell of her breast, but no one acknowledges it. Eren’s hand tucks in snugly around the curve of her hip, easy and natural, and you wonder if his fingers have ever itched to travel up under the hem of her tiny sleep shorts.

“Not dead yet.” Historia glares up at him venomously, reluctantly making room for Sasha to pile onto Eren and smother his face with kisses. Sasha pulls away from him suddenly and frowns.

“Peaches?”

“Where are the knives in this fucking kitchen?” Armin’s growl of frustration is loud enough to make you jump, and Sasha giggles at you.

“Jesus, Armin, you’re going to kill her, and it’s not even noon.” Sasha slips off of Eren’s knee, practically bouncing over to where Armin’s viciously jiggling a locked drawer. She slides open the drawer next to him and draws a long, wide knife from it, passing it to him with the blade extended and her eyes on you. “Did you meet Eren?”

“Careful of his hand!” Historia squeals, shooting an arm out towards Armin as if she can deflect the tip of the blade from across the room.

“It’s fine, Stor.” Armin’s voice floats across his nearly-bare shoulder, mild and careless as it grazes the collar of the too-big button down sliding off of his slim frame.

“That knife’s a little big for a fig, Sasha.” Eren stands, placing Historia on the table and pinching her cheek when she scowls at him.

“There’s no such thing as a too-big knife– listen to me. Did you meet Eren?” Sasha’s fingers are gripping into the flesh of your arm– hard. Your eyes widen in surprise at the urgency in her eyes, like if you haven’t been introduced to Eren, there’s grave danger afoot.

“We met.” It happens quickly and easily, the slide of his heavy arm around your shoulders. You can feel your body tense under the lazy weight of him, big hand wrapped around you like it belongs there. “I don’t think she’s particularly fond of me.”

Eren shoots you a wink that you’re sure is intended to mean something, a reference to an inside joke that you have yet to establish, maybe.

“I didn’t say that,” you say in your own defense, wanting to yank Sasha to the side and demand to know why she hadn’t warned you that Cupid himself was going to greet you in the kitchen this morning. Armin slices the fig neatly in half, a strangely practiced motion performed by small, soft hands. He offers it to you again insistently, and frowns when you shake your head.

“I said I wanted it, ‘Min,” Eren says with a hint of red to his words, snatching the halved fig from Armin’s hand and biting into it voraciously, little pieces of the flesh spattered around the corner of his mouth.

“You’re such a brute,” Armin scoffs, picking the meat of his half out gingerly with an oyster fork that you don’t remember him grabbing from the drawer.

“Why don’t you like Eren?” Sasha pouts at you, grabbing the hand that’s squashed between yours and Eren’s hips. Your palm feels hot against her fingers.

“I said I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say much of anything, to be fair.” Eren’s got the fig pressed to his mouth, digging his teeth and tongue around in the husk of it obscenely enough to make your cheeks warm. Being so close to him is filthy, that cross around his neck is looking you straight in the eye to make sure you feel it.

“Eren’s always a pest,” Historia provides from her perch on the kitchen table, picking at her perfectly manicured toenails, “why would she like him?”

“You like him plenty,” Armin says, not looking at her. It’s not the first time that’s been brought up, if Historia’s answering sneer is anything to go by.

“You’ll love him if you give him a chance.” Sasha smiles hopefully at you, nodding.

“Yeah,” Eren grins down at you, teeth colored with fig, “give me a chance.”

“Eren, you’re going to scare her off,” Armin says with a roll of his eyes, peering around Eren’s broad shoulders to look you up and down. The way his eyes drag over you makes you feel like there might be a stab wound somewhere on your person that you don’t know about yet, the adrenaline of the moment keeping you numb.

“Back off her, Eren,” Historia echoes, “she’s fun, I don’t want you to make her leave.”

“She’s not going to leave.” Eren looks directly at you as he says it, something in his smile growing imperceptibly darker. A dare. How much will you let me get away with?

You stare and stare at him, ignoring the continued bickering of Armin and Historia in the background. He’s golden and blood-red, oil smeared on his forehead and a crown of thorns nestled in his dark thatch of hair if you look close enough. If you’re not imagining it, his hand might be tightening around your shoulder, maybe he’ll leave a purple bruise on it.

“Of course not,” Sasha interrupts your thoughts, thumbing at your cheek affectionately, “she belongs here. With us.”

“She’s our little fairy,” Historia giggles dreamily, referencing the long-winded fairy tales you drunkenly make up every night, casting each other as heroines and knights and dragons.

“Right,” Eren agrees, not breaking your gaze, “our little fairy.”

The only thing that comes to mind is your childhood friend, Emma, looking on at you sadly with her muddy toes, watching the wings sprout from your back.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Days lug themselves by, barefooted and dragging their heels, and most of the time, even the monotonous rise and fall of the sun doesn’t help to differentiate one calendar block from the next. Like a bat, or maybe a slinky, silvery fish in an underwater cave, you rely on your other senses to track the passage of time.

For example, today, you know it’s a Wednesday because Maria, one of the three house chefs, brings fresh peaches up from the co-op down the hill every Wednesday. Sasha’s spent the last thirty minutes hand feeding you peach flesh as you lounge by the pool, insisting that you suck her fingers clean of juice and feeding you little sips of champagne each time you sober up enough to tell her that that’s lewd. Historia swats at you and giggles at the smacking and slurping sounds you make around Sasha’s fingers, oiled-up palm landing on oiled-up hip with a wet slap; Armin admonishes her quietly from his seat beside her, insisting the girlish noises emanating from the three of you are tearing him from his book. You can feel Eren watching, too– that’s all, though. Always just watching.

You wonder how opaque the lenses of Armin’s sunglasses are, perched haphazardly on your nose, wonder if they’re doing a good job of masking the slow lick of your gaze over Eren’s skin, wonder if you care. Maybe the champagne is finally getting to your head.

“We should go in soon,” Historia sighs, a hand tossed across her forehead. She’s a little movie star, built for the golden age. “It’s so hot.”

“It’s always this hot,” Sasha argues, and you can practically hear the furrow in her brow, not willing to take your eyes off of the trickle of sweat running down Eren’s chest to see it for yourself. You’re really getting the hang of it, this opposite-sense thing. Everything’s upside down here in the heat.

“She’s getting hungry,” Armin supplies, wiping the sweat off his palms to reach up and turn the page of his novel. Brideshead Revisited. A little on the nose, isn’t it?

“I am not!” Historia hates when people point out her appetite, but not really. She kicks up a fuss because it’s “ladylike”, and she’s advised you to do the same.

“You are,” you sigh, really feeling the heat sink into you even with the heavy, lazy movement of lolling your head to face her, “you always get hungry around this time.”

“What time is it, then?”

You don’t reply– you don’t know the answer.

“I think we’re all hungry,” Eren, ever the peacemaker when he can find the time to be so, sits up, letting the shirt that’s been shading his face fall into his lap. Your eyes track its descent– even that seems slow. He says something to you, managing a crooked grin while he squints in the heat of the sun, but you don’t hear it.

“Huh?”

“Everyone except you, anyway,” he repeats himself, reaching over Sasha and smearing his thumb through the peach juice collected on your chin. Eren’s thumb disappears between his pink lips, and when he sucks on it with a satisfied hum, your jaw clenches hard enough to hurt.

“I guess it’s getting close to dinner,” Sasha says regretfully, picking her wristwatch, a priceless Braus family heirloom, up from a puddle of orange juice and tanning oil. “We should probably clean off.”

“I might even shower twice,” Armin rubs a hand over his belly with a grimace, “this tanning oil makes my skin greasy.”

“I feel disgusting,” Historia agrees, sliding red toes into her sandals and standing with a dramatic stretch.

“Filthy,” Eren murmurs in agreement. He’s still staring at you.

“I’ll be in soon. I’m so close to the color I wanted for today– I just need, like, ten more minutes.” You peel down the strip of bathing suit stretched over your hip, showing off the distinct mark of yesterday’s color and today’s tan.

“You’re crazy,” Sasha scoffs, throwing some designer sarong her mother lent her over her shoulder, “I’m melting.”

Armin and Historia pause their bickering over who gets to wear Armin’s Cucinelli belt to dinner—Armin wants it for his trousers, Historia for her maxi dress—just long enough to offer a momentary goodbye, breezing along into the house with Sasha. You settle back into your chair and take a deep breath, letting the sun sink into you just long enough to forget that you’re not alone.

“Open up.”

You’ve been enjoying this game of trading one sense for another, and you keep your eyes shut firmly, letting your jaw fall open and your tongue hang out. A piece of peach, fleshy and dripping with juice, finds its way onto your tongue, pinched too roughly between strong fingers. When you close your lips around the fruit, the fingers stay with it, frozen in their pinched position and forcing you to suck the peach from them, to swallow around them, to run your tongue along them and get as much of the meat as you can. When the fingers withdraw from your lips, you open your eyes and gasp quietly.

Eren’s leaning over you, a solar eclipse that smells like tan skin and sounds like Campari, and in the silhouette of the sunlight, you think he’s smiling.

“You’re still hungry,” he says, a question that’s left its punctuation mark behind. You think of Historia, of the improper shame of revealing your appetite. You dodge.

“I’m never hungry.”

“Never?” Eren crawls over you to kneel between your legs, propping one of your ankles up on his shoulder. The game you started is ripped out of your hands, chess pieces flying into the pool, scattering across the table, knocking over bottles and matchbooks. It’s so silent out here in the sun it hurts, and you almost miss the constant buzzing horseflies of early summer.

“Never.”

“If you’ve never been hungry,” Eren muses, tilting his head so that his cheekbone fits into the sensitive arch of your foot, reaching a hand down to splay it wide on your belly, “you’ve never been full.”

“How do you figure?” Your words come out throaty, waterlogged.

“Can’t have one without the other.” Eren shrugs, turning his head to the side. His lips brush against your heel, your Achilles’, the swirly seashell dangling from your anklet. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, toes twitching behind his ear. “I don’t believe you, anyway.”

“No?” You try to tilt your head coyly, like your heart’s not clawing and scratching against your throat to get to him. Hungry, indeed.

“You wouldn’t stare like that if you didn’t want to.”

You’re taken aback, but not enough to fall out of the moment– Eren’s lips closing around the knob of your ankle slowly, like the pit of a fruit, make sure of that.

“Didn’t want to what?”

Eren’s hands meet the cushion on either side of your head hard enough to rattle the chair, his long, tanned body stretching over yours. He’s close enough to brush his nose against yours, but you can still see the hazy green of his eyes flicking here and there on your face: from your eyes to your lips to the beauty mark on your cheek. Your poolside lounge feels more like a butcher’s block under your taut spine.

Sasha’s told you about the wolves in these hills, that they howl murder at night, but they’re sleepy and indulgent in the heat of the sun. One of Eren’s canines catches the light and glints at you as he grins.

“Eat yourself sick.” He practically spits it into your mouth, one thigh pressed into where you’re sticky and sinful, and he chuckles under his breath when you shudder under him, feverish in the late-afternoon heat.

Before you can even think of biting back, Eren’s off of you, picking your sandals off of the ground and sliding them gently onto your feet, stopping to run his palm from your ankle to your kneecap with an appraising hum.

“We should head inside,” he says evenly, offering a hand to pull you to your feet, “I’d hate for us to miss dinner.”

You don’t have anything to say back to him, letting him lace his fingers through yours like lines in a play, interspersing seamlessly with the summer scenery. Eren leads you through the kitchen, waits patiently for you to take your sandals off, and waves you on your way up the stairs, saying he needs a cigarette. As the distance between you grows, your mind grows clearer, and you turn on your heel, calling down to him from the top of the stairs.

“Eren? Eren? Where are you, Eren?”

“Call me something else,” Eren pokes his head around the corner, smoke pouring from the grin on his face, “whatever you want, really. Make your own name for me.”

“You stare at me, too,” you say, tearing through his impishness. Eren cocks his head, unperturbed, smile growing wide as he nods.

“I do.”

“So you’re…” You can’t bring yourself to say it, not where it might echo in the cavernous hallway, where it might take the form of a confession. You scamper down the stairs, nearly sliding on bare feet, almost crashing into Eren when he appears at the foot of the staircase, catching you with two broad palms on either side of your ribcage. You pluck the cigarette from his mouth, stick it between your own teeth, narrow your eyes accusingly, and whisper: “You’re hungry too.”

“For every man hath business and desire, Such it is.” Eren takes the cigarette back, pulling on it and making a clear show of trying to hide a smirk.

“Hamlet?”

“A woman with teeth and a brain,” Eren tilts his head at you, “aren’t you something?”

“Do you always quote Shakespeare when you want to fuck somebody?”

“Only when I want to fuck you.” Eren stubs the cigarette out on the ancient oak of the staircase railing, grins up at you brilliantly, smiles brighter when he notices how obviously flustered you are.

“I need to go take a shower,” you say hurriedly, choking on the remnants of your shame and your confidence as they burn out in your throat, making an attempt to back up the stairs away from him. Eren laughs at your attempted escape, catching you by the wrist and pulling you close to him, close enough to dizzy you on the tendrils of smoke still sticking to him. Your breath stills, your heart slows as Eren wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you together, skin on tacky skin.

“Oh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” Eren coos to you, mouth moving against your cheekbone. “C’mon, just one bite.”

“He that is proud eats up himself,” you hiss a quote back at him in response, ripping yourself from his grip and scrambling up the stairs, heart pounding and cheeks burning. You can hear a lovesick sigh follow you up to your room, and hope that the slam of the door behind you is enough to keep it from touching you.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The murky waters of your vision ripple out into clarity, and you’ve found yourself in a forest. You’ve been here before, you recognize the tall, thick trunks and the bed of fallen leaves under your feet. You’ve been coming here since you were a little girl, been wiggling your toes in the greenery since before you could remember. You never come alone.

It appears just as you remembered: a blinding glimmer of light, a flame for a head, and ribbonlike wisps of energy that beckon you like arms, like love. One step towards it, and it disappears, vanishing into nothing with an echo that might be laughter. You think it’s happy to see you.

When it reappears a few feet away, you take your first steps, sighing at the feeling of the wild enveloping you, of the prickling of your skin, kissed by the chill winding through the trees. You wish you could explore this place, so familiar and so strange all at once, but you know you have to keep moving, keep following the lights as they lead you deeper and deeper into the forest. They won’t hurt you; you aren’t sure why that’s true, aren’t sure why you keep moving. You just know better than to stop.

They lead you over a familiar path, winding past a creek, over a bed of flat stones with an ice-cold creek running over them. You never tire here, legs pumping and arms working to push yourself faster. You’ve never caught the lights, and you aren’t sure if you ever will, but again, you know better than to doubt. It feels like hours, feels like minutes, feels like purpose, chasing these lights through the forest, but suddenly, something’s new.

There’s a little chirping sound, almost conversational and too high-pitched for you to understand; you’re not even sure if you recognize the language. It ricochets around the bones in your body, touches something ancient in their marrow. You almost jerk your head to the right to find the source, but you resist, pushing ahead on your path as the lights lead you deeper. You get the feeling that you’ve gone off-script somewhere, that this is a part of the forest you haven’t seen before, but the warmth in your bones shoos your doubts away. You’ve never been this far, but it feels like home.

A growl curls around the shell of your ear, plants fear right in the center of your chest. Your eyes widen at the light before you before it disappears; you frown at the next one, not daring to speak but demanding an answer anyhow. The lights will save you, won’t they?

Shrieks from overhead, guttural, animalistic calls, howls and chatters of excitement; you never presumed to be alone in this forest, but you never presumed to be in danger, either. The lights urge you on, vanishing and regenerating at an alarming rate, your feet drumming against the forest floor faster and faster. A sliver of moonlight begins to glow from the trees a ways off, an indication that there’s a clearing ahead, and you shove the bile in your throat down, swing your arms faster, ignore the frantic fluttering of your pulse in time with the bestial chorus ringing clearer and louder from the trees with each passing second.

You do, against all odds, manage to launch yourself into the clearing, and the moment you feel the soft cushion of moss under your feet, as opposed to the branch-littered, crunchy path of the forest, you nearly stumble to your knees as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of the clearing. The grumblings of the woodland entities have quieted, an almost awestruck silence settling in the open space around you.

“There you are.”

Your head snaps up comically fast– “You?”

“Me,” Eren says, that razor-sharp, moonlight smile lighting up his face. He looks…right here, as if the forest is extending a sense of belonging, as if he’s been here longer than the ancient trees themselves. Even the little crown nestled atop his head is fitting: a tangle of brambles and thorns and leaves tucked into his dark locks. Is that a throne under him, that mass of branches and leaves and some silvery metal you can’t place?

His eyes glow in the starlight, illuminated with a certain hunger that you can feel reverberating through your bones. It should be frightening, but it’s enticing. You feel welcome.

“What are you doing here?” Your tongue is slower on the uptake than your mind, and you can feel the suspicious expression folding your facial features, hiding the thrum of anticipation the sight of him brings.

Eren cocks his head pityingly, smiling at you in a way that would seem predatory if it wasn’t so entirely disarming, so entirely inviting. Your feet are bringing you closer before he even speaks— you know why you’re here before he says it.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” Eren beckons you onto his lap, firmly grabbing your shoulder and silently demanding you straddle him when you try to turn away from him, “you’re beautiful, so…alive here.”

He takes a bit of your hair between your fingers and rubs it, satisfaction flickering over his face. It’s then that you realize how little fabric covers you; really, it’s only a thin, wispy excuse of a dress, hanging in tatters around your body and leaving your skin free for the taking. Taking notice of your dress leads you to take notice of another pressing matter: Eren’s naked beneath you.

“Where are we?”

“Does it matter?” Eren reaches up to toy with your hair again, smiling gently. He tilts his head up, asking you for something you can’t identify, but that you already know you’re willing to give. Your soul, maybe.

Your lips meet his in a tentative brush, a motion that feels shy, but practiced. It’s a reflex, an instinct, to kiss him this way. Eren groans gutturally against your mouth, pressing into you deeper, digging his fingertips into your bare skin. The chorus of inhuman chatter erupts around you both again, and you jump, almost pushing away from him before he stops you with a firm hand against the small of your back.

“Sh,” he whispers, nipping at your chin, “don’t pay them any mind. You’re with me, remember?”

It’s difficult at first with the ever-growing hum of life around you, but it grows increasingly easier to melt into him, to lose yourself in the rhythm of him. He’s thick and hard underneath you, pressed right where you’re already slick and ready for him, and he’s got a tight grip on your hips, working you against him to make sure you feel it and oh– do you feel it.

A debauched gasp pours from your mouth to his; Eren sinks sharp teeth into your bottom lip with a grunt of approval, pulls you up to situate you over his twitching cock. You can feel the lecherous eyes of the woodland creatures, spirits, monsters, whatever they may be around you, looking in on the sticky, tangible arousal building between your bodies. The steady glow of Eren’s eyes, the prick of the thorns in his hair under your fingertips, the insistent weight of him pressing against the wet heat of you: all of it keeps you grounded, keeps your hips rolling into Eren like your life depends on it, like it’s what you were born to do.

“Are you ready?” Eren murmurs, quiet as the grave, stilling your hips and lifting you.

“I’m not sure, I–”

“I’ve been waiting so long,” Eren interrupts, “so long for you– you’re ready for me, I know you are.”

And with that, he’s sliding you down onto his cock, splitting you open, dropping your jaw. The cacophony from the forest grows deafening, but the glowing eyes in the brush streak and blur as your eyes flutter closed, a stuttered moan falling from your lips.

“Oh–”

“Knew you were ready,” Eren sinks his teeth into your collarbone, lets you wiggle and roll your hips until he’s situated comfortably inside of you. “You were born for this. For me.”

You can’t even bring yourself to disagree, to refute, to question. It’s godly, the way he fills you, the twinge of pain in the pit of your belly that doesn’t waver, no matter which way you squirm. The longer you sit, perched upon him– you feel something akin to divinity, akin to prophecy ringing through your bones. You were born for this.

“Eren…” It’s more of a sigh than anything, a confession and an admittance of guilt, a repentance. He likes the way it tastes, you can tell by the way his hands grip you harder, roll you along his cock faster with an urgency that betrays his calm, adoring gaze. He’s sinking his claws into you, bit by bit, and you’re better for it. You belong here, with the night on your skin and Eren nestled inside of you.

“Don’t ever leave,” Eren smiles gently, as if it’s a choice, “stay with me forever.”

The pleasure’s beginning to peak in your stomach, the howls swirling in the air around you start to feel more like a blanket, the moonlight like a crown. His hands are so hot they almost burn, his tongue licking up your neck feels like a baptism. Your back is arching, your blood is rushing, the stars are speaking to you– what are they saying?

Your fingernails have left angry indents in your throat where you’ve clutched into the skin in a desperate attempt to regain your breath, shooting up out of your slumber with a vicious jolt. Your head spins with the sudden movement, the antique furnishings of the room bleeding into candlelit blurs as you heave for breath.

“Sleeping?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the gravel of Eren’s voice, having believed yourself to be alone. Some instinctual part of your mind almost remembers falling asleep on the loveseat in the glass-enclosed sunroom earlier, one too many martinis to thank for that, but you can worry about that later– Eren’s your priority now, shirtless and leaned against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised and a very telling flush rising to his cheeks. The chilly wetness between your legs brings your dream to the forefront of your mind. Had he heard, somehow?

“What are you doing down here?” You do your best to narrow your eyes into something convincing enough to pass for annoyance, unsure if you’ve managed to pull it off with the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Water,” Eren says simply, raising a glass you hadn’t noticed he was holding, “but it seems like you might need it more than I do.”

“I don’t–” He ignores you, crossing the room to hand you the ornate glass. Your throat is dry, and so you drink, eyeing him suspiciously as you sip.

“Dreaming?” The corner of his mouth twitches almost imperceptibly.

“Nightmare.” You push yourself up to sit, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. “How’d you know?”

A long pause, Eren’s eyes dragging over you slowly, your skin burning. “You were squirming.”

“It was disturbing,” you say truthfully, looking over your shoulder and half-expecting to see some horrible monster leering at you from the doorway, salivating over you and Eren, “but I’ve had this same dream since I was a kid. Part of it, anyway.”

“Need company?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaken by the dream and how low Eren’s pajama pants hang on his hips, “I just need to get to my real bed. I’m sure sleeping outside had something to do with it.”

“That’s not true.” Eren’s scooping you up into his arms before you can open your mouth to argue, as if you even would. This isn’t unusual for him; you’ve grown used to his tendency to touch you, to hold you close to his chest as though you belong there. It echoes in your head, you were born for this. A shudder wracks through your body. “Cold?”

“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your own voice. Eren nuzzles your head deeper into his shoulder, lets you get a noseful of the scent of him. Dewdrops, mankind, a rotting forest floor. It gives you a disconcerting sense of deja vu.

“Sleeping outside is good for you,” Eren goes on, scaling the stairs with impossible ease, “my mom used to tell me that.”

“Is that so?” It brings a sleepy little smile to your face, despite yourself: the image of a messy-haired, fussy baby Eren, curled up in his mother’s lap and looking up at the night sky.

“Sure.” You can hear the nostalgia in his voice. “The stars can talk to you that way, through your dreams. They show you where you’re supposed to go.”

Your blood runs cold at that– does he know? How could he? He’s a man, not a mind-reader, not a mystic. Right? You let him carry you to your door in silence, the only noise being the padding of his bare feet down the Turkish carpet runner in the hall. When he gets to your door, Eren finally starts to move to let you down, and your mouth moves without your permission, voice small and echoing in the still nighttime air.

“Eren?”

He freezes, muscles locking you in place against his chest. “Yeah?”

“Was I talking in my sleep?”

Eren settles you on your feet before answering, leaving one lingering hand on your hip and bringing the other up to brush at your cheek. Your eye must have been watering– his thumb catches a stray tear. His smile is a little too sharp when he answers.

“No, why?”

“Just wondering.” Relief courses through your body, but your muscles stay taut under his touch.

“Okay,” Eren looks you up and down one more time, as if he’s making sure you’re all there, “goodnight, then. I hope your dreams get better.”

When he turns to go, the broad silhouette of him growing darker as he retreats, you remember something fragile underneath the floorboards.

“Wait, Eren! You forgot your water.”

“My what?” When he turns to face you, he’s still grinning– baring his teeth, more like. You think you’re imagining the glow in his eyes, too fresh from that dream.

“Your water. I think I have a cup in my room if you need it.”

“Oh.” Eren waves a hand nonchalantly through the air, catching a stray stream of moonlight. You can see the dust particles dancing around his hand, enchanted by his movement. “Wasn’t thirsty."

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s a slinky, dazzling dress; Elie Saab, Spring 2005, maybe? 2006? Sasha had lent it to you, insisted upon you taking it, really. It’s got to be worth at least your years’ rent payment, dripping with Swarovski and cut low and square across your chest, and easily the most decadent thing you’ve ever worn but– it’s family dinner night. No expense is spared.

Historia sits across from you, reaching one dainty hand out for Armin’s negroni, nearly dipping the massive drop-pearl charm on her bracelet into the first course: a cold, cucumber soup. Armin nudges her meaningfully, scowling and handing his glass to her, glancing apologetically at the stiff-backed butler across the room, who wasn’t looking anyway. Sasha’s at the head of the table, working on Historia’s serving of the cucumber soup, dunking focaccia bread into it in a voracious manner that you’re sure wasn’t outlined in the etiquette courses she’d endured as a child. And he’s next to you, naturally.

His dinner jacket looks out of place on him, oddly enough: angular and overly formal, as well-fitting as it is. You wish it was a little greener, a little more playful, something to match the Eren you’ve gotten to know under all the glitz and glamour. It’s too human for him, really, but that thought makes you shudder faster than you can shove it to the side.

“Wasn’t that the girl from Luxembourg?” Sasha asks through a giggle, finally leaning back to allow the butler to collect the remnants of her first course. Historia frowns at her, gulps back nearly half of Armin’s cocktail.

“No, the girl from Luxembourg was a slut. He wouldn’t have touched her.”

Armin and Eren exchange a look that implies that, whoever the slut from Luxembourg might have been, she didn’t escape their clutches unscathed. Historia notices the guilty smile dimpling Eren’s cheek and smacks Armin in retaliation.

“Ouch, Stori!” Armin scowls right back at her; if you didn’t know about Armin’s father’s remarriage to Historia’s mother, you’d think they were actually related.

“She was a slut,” Historia sniffs, finishing the rest of Armin’s cocktail in a second swig.

“It was Eren’s idea– you’re always punishing me for what he does.” When the staff place the second course, some sort of ceviche, in front of him, Armin crosses his arms over his chest and looks away like a huffy child. Sasha laughs and swats at his shoulder.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have your own hand in things. You can’t blame everything on Eren.”

“Maybe he can,” you shrug, the champagne going to your head. You’re feeling impish, feeling like one of them. Wildly, you reach a hand up to pinch at Eren’s cheek, smiling to yourself when you feel it turn warm under your fingers. “I mean, just look at him. He’s a devil.”

“Am not,” Eren scoffs, slapping a hand on your leg and shaking it playfully, “you weren’t there anyway. Min’s very convincing when he wants to be.”

“I am.” Armin smiles at you, head tilting intrepidly. “I can get Eren to share anything I want, I bet.”

It feels loaded, like a challenge, and Eren’s fingers tighten where he’s gripping your leg. When you chance a glance to the side at him, his jaw is tense, gaze focused on Armin like a threat, like a predator.

“Not anything,” Eren says, voice low and dangerous, more somber than you’ve ever heard him. Armin’s face falls for a millisecond, scrunching his nose at the murderous glint in Eren’s eyes, before he clenches his jaw and glances between the two of you with a haughty smirk.

“Est-ce vrai? En êtes-vous sûr? Tu l'as dit toi-même - je suis convaincant quand je veux quelque chose.”

“Ne commencez pas avec moi, pas pour ça.” It’s hardly louder than a murmur, but the threat carries all the same. You look to Sasha with widened eyes, hoping for a translation, but she’s chewing slowly on a bite of her ceviche, looking at Armin, Eren, then Armin again with a strange expression you’ve never seen before.

A heavy silence settles over the table, Eren’s fingertips leaving sore spots through your dress where they’re digging into your thigh, and Armin’s eyes dancing over Eren’s face, that same smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Daring.

“You two are so in love,” Historia gripes with a roll of her eyes, smashing the carefully-cubed ceviche on her plate into a mush. You eye the smear of meat on her fork disdainfully and set down the bite you had been about to pop in your mouth, opting for your glass of bubbles instead.

The jokingly grumpy lilt of Historia’s comment seems to cut the thread of tension that had grown taut between the two men, as Armin allows Sasha to pull him away from Eren and back into his corner of the table with her and Historia. Their conversation drones on, the ethics of Eren and Armin’s tendency to tag-team women fading into the background as you wait for Eren’s hand to slip from your thigh. It doesn’t.

His thumb rubs idly over the slit of your dress, brushing it back and forth over your bare skin for just long enough to get you used to the pressure of his palm beaming heat through the thin fabric, get your guard down. And then his fingers slip underneath, grabbing into the hot flesh of your thigh.

You jump ever so slightly, flighty as a fawn, and Eren chuckles under his breath beside you when you choke a bit on your champagne. He’s cool—stoic, even—as he bashfully bats away the scandalous insinuations of Sasha and Historia’s storytelling, the lewd raise of Armin’s eyebrows at the mention of a certain leggy redhead in Prague. His hand stays steady, possessive and permanent on your leg. When Armin and Historia start arguing over yet another of Armin’s alleged missteps with one of her college friends, Eren takes the opening to lean into you, murmuring into your ear.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” His breath puffs out hot and sensual against the shell of your ear, and you can feel your earring lifting with the movement of his lips. He’s so close.

“Not jumpy,” you answer under your breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Hm,” Eren hums, leaning back just enough to study your profile, “wasn’t sure if you’d dozed off, started dreaming again.”

Your head whips towards him in what is surely an uncouth accusation of insinuation, borne of shock, but luckily, Armin’s too busy being hand-fed ceviche by Sasha and scolded by Historia to notice. Other than his eyes, Eren’s stiller than death, watching over the antics with the littlest smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His eyes, though, flick down to you, glinting like a dare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means something?” It’s a challenge, and you realize too late that the rope around your ankle has cinched, and you’re caught in his trap.

“No,” you say, hoping for more conviction in your voice, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. The corner of Eren’s mouth twitches, and it pulls an irritated huff from you.

“Tell me about your dream. The one that woke you up the other night.”

“Tell you– w-what? Here?”

“Yes, here,” Eren repeats you, quiet and calm, keeping one eye on your bickering friends to ensure you’re kept all to himself, “unless it’s something you can’t share.”

The blanching of your face tells him everything he needs to know, and that sickening admission almost overshadows the fact that he knows. He undeniably knows, now; maybe not the specifics, but enough to know that you had woken up sticky and gasping after a sinful dream. Maybe he even knows it was about him.

You’ve given up on trying to understand the otherworldly elements of Eren; the way he seems to appear at inopportune moments and know what you’re thinking at every turn, but this is too much. You quickly realize that while you’re not sober, you’re certainly not drunk enough to deal with him, and you finish your glass of champagne in a single gulp.

“You’re one to talk about sharing,” you hiss at him, trying to will away the goosebumps prickling your arms as his fingers inch higher, skating along soft skin. Eren’s demeanor falters, if only for a moment– he looks frustrated.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Eren leans into you, brows furrowing. “I don’t share just anything, and especially not just because ‘Min wants a taste.”

“Am I yours to share?” That heavy swig of champagne has gone straight to your head it seems, as you turn your face up to him defiantly, finally saying the quiet part out loud. The weight falls off your shoulders like a head, and you can almost feel the itch of the guillotine at your neck as the words leave your mouth. Eren, ever the gentle executioner, only lets the calm fascination return to his face, brings his fingers further up your thigh.

“Tell me about your dream, hm? They’re not listening, it’s just you and me.”

He’s only inches away from where you’re already beginning to grow hot and wet– he hasn’t even done anything, and you want to chastise yourself over the undeniable need beginning to bubble inside you. Eren’s smiling so sweetly, as if he’s lulling you into a sense of complacency, and your tongue hangs heavy in your mouth, eager to spill your secrets.

“I…I’m scared.”

Eren’s eyebrows raise and his smile grows a bit toothier, disbelief written plain on his face. “Of me?”

“Sometimes,” you say, small and honest as the grave, “it’s like you aren’t real.”

“I’m very real,” Eren insists, two fingers pressing against the damp silk of your panties, his eyes lighting up when you stifle a gasp, “doesn’t that feel real?”

“Wait–”

“The dream,” Eren says again, increasing the pressure of his fingers, “were you scared of me there, too?”

“Yes,” you whisper, ashamed and painfully cognizant of the feel of him between your legs, “I was in a forest, running after the little lights, they– I’ve seen them for a long time.”

“Since you were a child,” Eren repeats your confession from the other night. He’s reading you, you realize, not like a book, but like a poem. You couldn’t put the difference into words if you had to, but there’s a certain melody to the flickering of his gaze over your hot face.

“They’ve never led me anywhere before,” your words hitch in your throat, stopped dead when Eren’s fingers start rubbing circles over your swollen clit. The silk is thin and soaked, and his fingers slide over you in a way that feels god-given. Your jaw hangs ever-so-slightly, the butlers coming to change the course. You wait for Eren to slip his hand out from under your dress, fearful of the staff watching as he toys with you, but he only nods encouragingly.

“Keep going.”

“Um,” you stammer, swallowing thickly and glancing at the plate of bleeding, rare filet in front of you, “they took me to a clearing in the forest. There were creatures, ones I’ve never seen before.”

“Did they hurt you? Any of them?” A furrow appears between his eyebrows, deep and concerned. Some small part of your brain, muted since Eren’s hand slid beneath your dress, worries itself with why Eren seems so disquieted with your dream– it’s not like you actually could have been hurt, it was only a dream. Wasn’t it?

“No, they stayed away. They just made a lot of noise, but they all got quiet when…”

A knowing smirk. “When?”

“When I saw you.”

Eren pats your thighs gently, urging them apart; he looks relieved, exhilarated, unreal. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his eyes were glowing in the candlelight. Armin, Historia, and Sasha’s clamor across the table grows louder with each passing second, but as soon as you begin to wonder if you should be doing a better job of hiding what’s very clearly happening under the slit of your dress, Eren’s fingers have wiggled their way beneath the fabric of your silk thong. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, eyes widening.

“I was glad to see you,” Eren says quietly, “in the dream, I mean.”

“You said you’d been waiting for me,” you whisper, keeping your voice low to hide the whine scratching at the back of your throat, “that you’d been waiting a long time.”

“I bet I was,” Eren hums thoughtfully, grinning viciously when he sinks a finger into you, clearly relishing the way your fingernails tighten into his wrist. “I never lie.”

“Even in a dream?” You feel fuzzy and warm, blinking moony, worried eyes up at him. Eren shakes his head in confirmation, curling his finger and making your thighs clench. “You put me in your lap, and–and, you had a crown. It was nighttime, I think, and the moon was really bright. You were inside me.”

Eren slides another finger in to match the first, and you’re hardly able to stifle a moan when it comes fluttering through your teeth, a breeze of a sound compared to what you’re struggling to keep captive in your chest. Eren’s other hand reaches forward to grab a small piece of the carved steak, brings the meat up to your mouth and brushes it over your lips.

“Eat,” Eren instructs, smiling placidly as you mindlessly obey, biting into the red meat, “but keep telling me.”

He waits patiently for you to chew around the bite of steak he’s offered you, eyes searching you for something– what it is, you can’t be sure. Your mind is wobbling around the flashes of memory of your dream, distracted every few steps by an overwhelming rush of pleasure from between your legs, Eren’s fingers curling incessantly against your walls. You swallow, never taking your eyes off of him.

“You fucked me.” The confession is breathless when it leaves you, and even through the haze of what you pray isn’t a rapidly-approaching orgasm, you don’t miss the way Eren’s shoulders stiffen, the way his eyes flash.

“Did I fuck you, or did you fuck me?” Eren murmurs back to you, mischief in his eyes and a tense gravel to his voice. “You said you were in my lap, after all.”

“I—oh, god—I don’t know,” you’re barely able to keep your voice low, a little whimper interrupting you, “Eren–”

“Keep going, it’s okay,” Eren’s fingers don’t slow– in fact, they begin to move more harshly, “you’re safe with me, you know that. I showed you in the forest, didn’t I?”

“Mhm.” You can’t stop your forehead from falling onto his shoulder, teeth digging into your lip so hard you aren’t sure if that coppery taste is from the steak, or your own blood. The conversation in the room, despite being made by only three people, feels like a deafening rush in your ears.

The realization hits home that Eren’s going to make you cum all over his fingers in front of your friends, the staff, and your dinner, and he’s going to wrench it out of you in a matter of seconds, if the tightening of your gut is anything to go by.

“What else?” Eren practically growls in your ear, low and hoarse. “Is there anything else?”

“You asked me– fuck, you asked me something.” Your hips are canting forward into his palm, your face tacky and warm thinking about the couture fabric under you, now drenched in your cum and sweat. “Eren, you have to slow down, please–”

He’s merciless, pumping his fingers into you ceaselessly, rendering you a lost cause. “What did I ask you?”

“You asked—oh, my god—asked if I, if I would stay with you forever.”

“What was your answer?”

You can’t respond, not with the way you’ve stopped breathing to swallow down the debauched moan bubbling in your chest. Your entire body tenses, strung tight as a bow around Eren’s fingers as the knot in your stomach unravels, cool, inevitable release finally crashing over you. Eren works you through it, murmuring little hushes into your hairline, and placing a comforting hand over your fingers that are digging into his wrist, smiling against your forehead as you slide your hips back and forth over his hand.

You manage to pull the whole thing off impressively subdued, no more than a tinny whimper leaving your lips, only to be absorbed by the sleeve of Eren’s dinner jacket. When you dare to sit up, to meet Eren’s eyes, he’s still looking at you expectantly, as if that wasn’t enough.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you whisper, waiting for Historia to chastise you, or Armin to make a lewd comment. The three of them are still arguing, Sasha stealing bites from Armin’s plate each time he turns to snap at Historia, who’s now sitting amongst a crowd of empty crystal glasses.

“What was your answer?” Eren says again, pulling his fingers from you and smirking at the glisten that stretches down into his palm.

“I woke up,” you say with shaky conviction, trying to glare at him.

“Are you still scared of me?” Eren asks innocently, picking up a piece of his steak with his hand and feeding it to you again. Your cum mixes in with the flavor of the steak, gives it a certain tang and salinity that makes your heart beat faster, even though you’ve just floated back down to consciousness.

“I– I don’t think so, but…” you trail off, looking down at the plate. Eren brings another piece to your lips, letting you bite half and giving the rest to himself, not missing the opportunity to suck on the tips of his fingers. Your thighs press together when his eyes flutter shut, knowing what he’s tasting and watching him revel in it.

“But what?”

“I don’t think I understand you,” you confess breathlessly, “I think that’s what scares me. I spend all day looking at you, and I never feel closer to understanding you, to really touching you. It’s like you’re not…” you trail off in search of the right word.

“Real?” Eren cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Human,” you say without entirely meaning to, widening your eyes at him in apology. “I’m sorry, not in a bad way necessarily, but– you feel…like you’re above me. In a sense.”

“Above you?” Eren frowns, forgetting his dinner entirely and looking straight at you with rejection written all over his face, wrinkles you want to smoothe over with your thumb.

“I just…” you sigh, finding it harder to meet his gaze by the second, “I don’t understand what you want with me.”

“Still?” Eren tilts his head. “Even after that?”

“The dream?” You nearly chuckle in exasperation. “It was just a dream, that’s all.”

Eren frowns a little, reaches for your glass of champagne– oh, god, when had that been refilled?– and hands it to you. He watches you take one sip, and then another, that concentrated pull of his eyebrows never ceasing until you reach a shaky hand out for your fork, beginning to feed yourself small bites of steak. His perplexed expression ripples out into one of contentedness, smiling gently as he watches you take care of yourself.

“All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show me thee,” Eren finally says, looking at you very much like you’re supposed to be parsing something out from his quote.

“On to the sonnets now, are we?” You cock a playful eyebrow at him, despite your tired, slouching posture and your repeated attempts to keep your guard up. Eren grins mischievously, leaning in as if he means to press the tip of his nose to yours.

“I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say–”

“If it be love indeed, tell me how much?” You’re quicker than him on this one, a vicious little smirk cutting across your face when you manage to cut him off. Eren’s eyebrows raise, impressed, but you don’t keep him down for long.

“There’s beggary in love that can be reckoned,” Eren finally says, twirling the ring on your pinky absentmindedly. You don’t even remember when he laid his hand atop yours, but it feels heavy and comforting, and so you let it lie there, just for the time being.

Your post-orgasm exhaustion hits you like a train, the temptation to slump against Eren’s shoulder winning out over your propriety. You’ll sit back up by the fourth course, you tell yourself, nibbling on a large piece of parsley that had come as a garnish on your plate. Eren doesn’t seem to mind the weight of your fuzzy head nodded into the cotton of his shoulder; in fact, he seems to adjust himself so you can nuzzle closer, eyes blinking owlishly as you reach for your glass of bubbles. You’re teetering dangerously close to the edge of unconsciousness, and you almost wouldn’t care, until something catches your eye.

Over the rim of your glass, Historia is staring at you. It’s not a look of admonishment, but more…caution? Concern? Pity? All you can discern for certain is that Historia must have seen everything Eren did to you, everything he’s still doing to you, taking a caviar bump off the back of his hand and laughing at Armin, shoulder shaking under your cheek. Historia’s brows furrow at you, her bottom lip wavering slightly.

You sit up suddenly, ignoring the way the room spins with the speed of your action. Eren turns his head to you, surprised, only to follow your gaze across the table to Historia. You’re trying to keep from looking at him, but you can’t help yourself, watching his expression crumple into something stern and disparaging.

Historia withers for only a moment, before narrowing her eyes at him threateningly. Eren squeezes his hand around yours. Sasha shoves Historia admonishingly for not listening to her joke. Armin’s eyes focus in on where your fingers grip your champagne flute hard enough to turn white.

You think you see a few pairs of familiar, glowing eyes in the bushes outside, peering in on the scene at the table. You think you need to go to bed.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger fanfiction #aot #aot fanfic #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #that's all for now folks!!!!#more to come in part 2<3

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