#inu-mxki18+

[inu-mxki]

roronoa zoro x fem!reader / 18+ / praise + petnames

“c’mon, angel,” zoro mumbles against your collarbone, pulling the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing just enough to expose it, “jus’ a little somethin’. missed you like crazy.”

you’d finally earned a night off from lookout. getting some rest was the only thing on your agenda. tucking yourself into his side as he mindlessly drew circles against your hip sounded like heaven right now, but zoro had missed his little lady. he’d missed pressing your back to his chest, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck as you slumbered beside him. god, if the rest of the crew knew what a fool he was for you, they’d never let him live it down.

but the one thing zoro missed the most, especially as the nights went on, was pressing his tongue against your folds, kitten licking soft, gentle circles against your sensitive bud until you’re bucking your hips to feel more friction. the thought makes his mind hazy. after all, zoro lived to devour you. he loved it just as much as receiving, if not more. your pleasure was his pleasure, tenfold, and right now all he wanted was to reward his hard working lady.

“‘ro, i’m so tired,” you mutter sleepily, trying to ignore the burning sensation below your abdomen, “i don’t think i have the energy.”

“i can wait baby,” he mumbles between kisses, scattering them across your neck, under your ear, down to your shoulder, “jus’ want to taste you, miss you so much. let me make you feel good, angel.”

and you knew he would. he was masterful. he took great care and pride in making you fall apart for him. it was enough to just see you like that. he can wait. your pleasure pretty much gets him off anyway.

“but ‘ro,” you say, opening your heavy, pretty eyes, “i can’t just let you do that.”

fucking hell. you’ll be the death of him. not this pirate life of his, you, and those big doe eyes looking at him with such adoration. looking at him like you want to please him, but your tired bones are just too much. selfless, that’s what you are. but zoro was a patient man when it came it you. he’d wait eons to have your pretty little mouth wrapped around him. he was happy to just serve you right now. his angel. his baby doll. his lifeline.

“don’t worry ‘bout me, baby girl,” he whispers, capturing your lips in a hot kiss as you whimper into his mouth lightly. you needed it. he knew that, and he was going to give it to you, “tomorrow, i’ll fuck you into this mattress, but right now, all i want is to make a mess of you. can i do that, pretty girl? can i make my angel come on my tongue?”

he pressed two fingers against your clothed core. you bucked your hips involuntarily, letting out a strangled sort of moan. you could feel the grin against your mouth, “is that a yes doll?” he asks gently, adding just a little more pressure to see you squirm, “need your words angel. tell me what you want.”

his eye was onyx. he’d pretty much caged you against the bed and his body, peppering kisses against your mouth, patiently waiting for your response. he’d respect it either way.

“p-please,” you strain against his lips, and he grips the sheet beneath you to steady himself, “make me feel good, ‘ro.”

“no need to be all polite about it, angel,” he worked his way down to your chest, leaving hot, wet kisses against your exposed skin, gently pushing up your shirt and hooking his fingers in your underwear, “all you gotta do is gimme a yes.”

“yes,” you breathe out, and he almost growls against your hip bone, sucking at the flesh there, “yes, yes.”

“i fucking love you,” he slurs, pulling down your underwear and immediately pushing your legs up and placing a open mouthed kiss to your bud, “my baby angel.”

“I love you,” you choke out, gripping onto the sheet. he places a few more sloppy kisses, before moving to kiss your inner thigh.

“jus’ relax, angel,” he rasps, looking up at you through a hooded eye, “gonna make you feel good, promise.”

i do not own one piece or anything associated with it

[inu-mxki]

change of heart / eren yeager x fem!reader / college au

a/n: got serious s4 eren brain rot. we’ve all been there

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, sexual themes, strong language, smoking/drinking, kind of toxic!eren to begin with, consensual sex, descriptions of sex, praise kink, pet names (angel, baby, princess)

word count: 2621

College was made for people like Eren Yeager. Captain of the football team, undeniably beautiful, a stand-up student, and the biggest fuckboy you’d ever met.

It wasn’t that Eren couldn’t hold down a woman, he just straight up didn’t want to. There’s just too many options. With popularity like his, he hardly had to look for a quick hook up, and he wasn’t about to throw that away to lock himself down to just one person. They were all far too starry-eyed for him anyway, and lust wasn’t love, he knew that much, not that he even knew what love was. So, when he met you, he had his intentions set. 

You were just how he likes them, the new girl who just transferred across the country and needed a nice boy to show her the ropes, big innocent eyes matched with a shy demeanour. Jesus, you drove him wild, right from the moment you wandered into his literature class. So pretty, so sweet, you’d be the death of him. He knew it, how innocently you asked if the seat beside him was taken and then proceeded to ask if you could walk to the next class with him. Like he’d say no. Like he’d turn a beauty like you away, God he’d never seen such a pretty little lady in his life. Even if there was someone sitting there, you were going to be his desk buddy, he’d walk you to the next class and pull out the chair for you. ‘Course he fucking would. Needed to butter you up, didn’t he? Get you all doe eyed for him, have you looking at him with those damn eyes as he’s picturing what on earth he was going to do with you.

And so it began, his favourite pastime, replacing all logic with him and him only.

And it worked, for a while. Had you in his dorm room within a month, suckling and lapping at the pretty sight between your legs like a man starved, feeling you gush around his fingers, around him, probably four times a week if he was lucky. But something happened, something strange and uncomfortable and downright pathetic happened, and you started invading his mind, and not just with thoughts of you under him, panting his name and sucking on his length, no, this wasn’t sex related. These thoughts were genuine, involuntary, in the middle of the night as he lay there awake, when you didn’t show up to class, when he saw you across the canteen, and he hated it.

He physically shook his head when the smile on your face became clear in his mind’s eye, clutching his chest when his heart felt like it had flipped over and back again as you cuddle up to him in your sleep, cursing out loud when he realises that he actually misses you. He’d never hated something so much in his life. Why couldn’t you be like the others, an airhead whose mouth opens just to please him, why couldn’t you cry when he called off your plans for his friends, pleading and begging him to give you attention. Why, why did you just smile and say, “that’s cool, have fun and make sure you eat something.”

And why the heck was he thinking about you the entire time instead of pressing another girl up against Jean’s bedroom door?

He’d had advances, all night, so many pretty girls in about as much clothing as you could get on your little finger wanting him to ravish them, but something stopped him each time their hand ran down his arm or pushed against his chest. He took their wrist, and said sorry, he actually said sorry, and then left to down a shot. Jean wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders and gave him a little shake.

“What’s going on with you, dude?” he laughed, red cup in his hand and hair a mess from where Mikasa’s hands had been only moments before, “Historia just came up to me crying about how you turned her down. I thought you wanted to fuck her?”

“I did,” Eren said over the music, throwing another shot back, “but I’m not feeling it tonight.”

“Not feeling it. What’s wrong, you sick or something?”

“Yeah, of you,” Eren smirked at his childhood pal, and Jean pretended to look hurt, “nah, I just want to save some energy. Big game tomorrow.”

“We all got tickets,” Jean said, refilling the cup in his hand, “Armin got us front row. Scarily persuasive that one.”

Eren laughed, looking across the room at Armin, who was trying his best to not appear absolutely wrecked in front of Historia, who’d chosen her next prey.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Eren said, feeling the alcohol setting in, “coming?”

“Nah, I’ve got unfinished business,” Jean grinned, “just getting ‘Kasa a drink, like the good boyfie I am.”

“Please never say that again,” Eren said, grimacing at Jean’s choice of words, “catch you later.”

The night air was colder than he thought, and he shivered against the breeze as he rolled his cigarette, licking a clean stripe along the paper to hold it down. He lit the end, inhaling sharply and falling back against the wall. Frat parties used to be his favourite weekend activity, but tonight he felt odd. Just that afternoon he’d found you in the library, and that stupid feeling in chest had him clutching at his jumper again before he cancelled your plans for that night. You didn’t put up a fight, to his displeasure, and just said it was fine.

Fine, you said.

If you were anyone else, he’d have told you how annoying it was, but Eren couldn’t do that. The mere thought of not getting to fuck you into his mattress was enough to keep him up. He could easily be accused of being obsessed, but he swore he wasn’t. He found a good fuck and wanted to keep you around, that’s what he told himself, his friends, and anyone who questioned his behaviour.

But now he was thinking about you again, the alcohol making his hand fumble with the phone in his pocket. He wanted to call you, hear your voice down the phone asking if he was alright, and clumsily he found himself scrolling for your contact. It rang, three times, and then went to answer phone, and his heart dropped into his stomach. His hazy head started calculating, are you with someone else? Someone that’s not him, is some other guy finding all those sweet spots he knew like the back of his hand?

That’s when he legs took him over to your block, still drunk and puffing harshly on his cigarette, but ready to knock out whoever dare touch his property. He punched in the passcode, the one you gave to him months ago, and headed up to your room purely from memory at this point. His fist met the door with force, and from the other side he heard you fumbling about before the lock clicked and there you were. His reason for going there suddenly left his mind, seeing you in just a t-shirt, his t-shirt that fell before your knees, bare legs and hair tied up messily. Have you always looked this good in his clothes? He didn’t care, and the smell of your shampoo drifted as you moved closer to him, eyebrows creasing and questions not reaching his ears.

“Ren?” you said again, “everything alright? I thought you were with Jean.”

He couldn’t find the words, everything in his clouded head was just you, in his shirt, your legs he’d kissed down a hundred times and the way you moved a strand of hair from his face that had fallen from his bun.

“Renny?” you say sweetly, the nickname falling off those soft, plump lips, just how it did when he was making you feel oh so good, and his body moved before he could think, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into to a feverish kiss.

His lips were hot and desperate, and you realised why he’d come here, taking his jumper in your fist and pulling him through the doorway with you. He was so familiar, his hands untying your hair to tangle his fingers in it, kissing you like he’d never get a chance to again, tongue tasting each inch of your mouth as you both clumsily reached the bed. You fell, softly, with his weight on top of you, pushing you against the fabric as his mouth moved across your jaw, down your neck, hands roughly grabbing at your shirt to get to your favourite spot, just below your collarbone, and there it was. Such a sultry sound, breathy and fucking delicious, his name rolling off your tongue and making him groan into your skin.

“Again,” he panted, hands reaching under your shirt to palm at your bare breasts, mouth leaving wet kisses along the expanse of your neck, “say it for me, baby.”

“Renny,” you breathe, and the growl in his chest was almost feral, rolling your nipple between his fingers as your back arched your body into him.

“Missed you,” he found himself mumbling, swallowing your little whimpers as he gave the other breast the same treatment, “needed to see you.”

“Fuck me you mean,” you say light-heartedly between his lips on yours, and he stops, your breaths heavy and chests heaving. His eyes were onyx, pupils blown wide, a drunk but adored look in them. He spreads his hands over your hips, moving you down to slot against him like a puzzle piece, his growing arousal pressing against your clothed core.

“That’s just a bonus.”

He wasn’t usually like this, so needy, whining in such desperation as you rolled against him, your thighs now straddling his bare hips. His hands gripped your sides so harshly they were leaving red marks, helping you bounce up and down on his impressive length. Eren was usually rough, perhaps a little harsh, not giving you time to even catch a breath before slamming his hips into you, but tonight was different. It was intimate, softly panting into each other’s mouths, slow, soft kisses and his hands caressing the curve of your ass, the plush skin of your thighs.

“So pretty,” he mumbled against your lips, snapping his hips into yours roughly, causing a rather lewd moan to rumble in your throat, “my pretty baby, my pretty little baby.”

“Renny,” you whine, detaching your lips from his, his half-lidded eyes looking up at you like you were something ethereal, “I’m getting close.”

“I got you angel,” he says softly, gripping your hips again to help you through it, “do it f’ me, yeah?”

A high-pitched moan left your mouth, eyes closing as the coil snapped, clenching around his length so tight it took everything to not lose it himself.

“Fucking hell, that’s it, my good girl, my good fucking girl,” Eren praised you, voice both rough and airy, his head falling back against the wall, “fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Renny,” you cry again, overstimulated as his hands continue to bounce you at the same speed. He loved it when you whined like that, told him it was too much, drove him silly.

“Not long now, baby,” he forced out, chest rising and falling rapidly, “jus’ feel so good, princess.”

You ran your hands down his toned torso, feeling each crevice, when his grip tightened so harshly you squeaked.

“Fuck, gonna come angel,” he strained quietly, resting his forehead against your shoulder, goosebumps forming as your nails trace down the back of his neck. His movements stutter, a deep groan vibrating in his throat as he came. He shamelessly nuzzled more into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, softening inside. Your nails still traced his neck, down to his shoulders, lips pressing soft kisses below his ear.

“Good?” you ask him, and he just nods into your skin, not wanting to leave your embrace. He felt you chuckle against him, resting your head on his, “I missed you too.”

His heart clenched again, that horrible feeling he always got when you said something like that. He hated it, but he was slowly realising why he hated it, why he hated thinking about you, just you, and nothing else, because deep down he knew what it meant. He hugged you tighter, before moving to look at you. Calloused hands tucked hair behind your ears, those green eyes everyone talked about scanning over your features like he was memorising them. He pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, adoring the way you exhaled in pleasure.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with,” he says, pressing more kisses along your jaw to your ear, “Christ, I don’t even think about anyone else anymore.” You wanted to ask what he meant, but his soft kisses against your shoulder were making you lose your train of thought, “I’m so fucking mad,” he continued, “you’re just there, all the time, and I can’t stop it. You’re all I think about.”

“Ren,” you say softly, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look back at you, “what are talking about, honey?”

Honey. He loved it when you called him that. Sometimes he heard you say it in his head even when you weren’t there.

“I don’t know even know,” he admitted, eyes searching yours, “all I know is I’ve never felt like this before and I’m doing a really shitty job of telling you about it.”

Your eyes were so soft and gentle, smiling at him with that kind look on your face, pressing a peck to his nose and rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“You’ve never been good with words, Renny,” you giggle lightly, “but that’s okay, sometimes we don’t need words, you know? Sometimes our actions speak for us.”

God you’re so damn perfect, touching him like he’s never done anything wrong before, like he deserves to be treated like that by you.

“What do you mean?” he asked, like a child, watching you so intently, each movement, each flicker of your eyes. You just smiled, nudging your nose against his.

“I thought you’d come here tonight for the same reason you always do,” you tell him gently, “but this was different, you are different, in such a beautiful, vulnerable way, Renny.”

He didn’t deserve it, that was his conclusion as he yanked you closer and captured your lips in another hungry kiss, but he didn’t care right now. His guard was falling, the walls he’d built were crumbling under your touch, and he was at your mercy, on his knees for you, he’d grovel to keep you, go to the ends of the earth to wake up next to you every morning from this day on. But he just couldn’t say it, he didn’t know how to, so he hoped that his actions could be his voice, he hoped that this kiss was enough, he hoped, prayed, that you knew what he meant, that you could feel it in every bone and vein in your body, like he did, like he felt it every time he saw you, how your name hung around his head like balloons on a ceiling. He prayed to God that you knew that he loved you.

Oh God, he loves you.

He’s so in love with you.

“Please understand me,” he breathed against your mouth, and felt you smile.

“I understand,” you whisper to him, “I understand, and I want to, for a long, long time.”

disclaimer: i do not own aot or any of the characters/storyline associated with it

[inu-mxki]

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