#sasha's big wet eyes

[mattslolita]

older - m. sturniolo

in which ... your boyfriend comes back pissed off, and you let him take his anger out on you. older!boyfriend!matt x black!fem!reader

warnings ; rough!dom!matt , sub!reader , unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), oral ( fem! receiving ), fingering , creampie

"𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

you had just got home from your shopping spree with your friend, a happy and giddy mess as you held your bags in your hand whilst you made your way up to your boyfriend's room.

since he had work, he had made sure to give you one of the spare keys to the home he shared with he and his brothers — he took care of everything, even providing you with a place to live, as he wanted you living with him.

you also wanted to hurry and get your bags sorted out before he came back, in case he needed to finish up some work so you wouldn't be in his way.

after putting your bags on the bed in you guys' shared bedroom, you strip from your outside clothing into your pajamas for the rest of the day, deciding to keep the pink bow you wore in your hair. you then made your way downstairs into the kitchen. you slid around in your socks as you stopped in front of the fridge, opening it as you hummed to a song under your breath.

you took out fresh strawberries and a rootbeer, setting them both on the counter as you closed the fridge — whilst balancing the strawberries in one hand and the rootbeer can in the other, you pranced back upstairs into the room, closing the door behind you as you did so.

you set the strawberries on the neat and tidy desk space, along with the root beer. cracking the can open, you take a small sip of the bubbly, sugary liquid as it goes down your throat.

the small mini speaker you kept on the vanity desk sat there, causing you to grin as you hooked your phone to it, turning on the bluetooth. you sat down at the vanity desk, a hand under your chin as you put both your feet under thighs, causing your ass to pop out slightly.

you begin to hum as you can be the boss by lana del rey plays throughout the speaker, standing up and walking over to the bags.

"you taste like the fourth of july, malt liquor on your breath my my," you sing, taking out a cute top, "i love you but i don't know why."

your socks padded against the floor as you almost bounced over to the mirror, holding the top up to you as you tilted your head while gazing at yourself. a smile instantly overtakes your features as you go to hang the top up in the closet.

a loud opening of the bedroom door causes you to gasp and turn around, only to find your boyfriend with an irritable expression painting his features, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw.

"hi baby!" you say cheerily, in attempt to fix his frown, his eyes immediately raking over your body causing you to tingle nervously, "is everything okay?"

"everything's fine, doll," he huffs, and you frown at this, crossing your arms over your chest taking slow steps towards him. "i'm just pissed as fuck right now."

his eyes settle onto your shared bed just then, causing you to bite your lip worriedly as they scan the various shopping bags. "where'd you go while i was gone?"

"it's no big deal, i just went shopping with sasha," you say nervously, prancing over towards the bed as you hold up a different top to show him, "do you like this?"

"whose money did you use?" he curves your question with his own, his arms crossing over his chest as you get a full view of the tatted arm causing a wetness to form in the cloth of your thong.

"mine..." you answer him, your doe eyes looking up at him as you blink.

"your money," he chuckles, except there's not a hint of amusement in his tone of voice — it's a condescending tone he takes with you, and you can already see what's going to happen before it does.

"what'd i tell you?" he asks you, walking up to you slowly, as your legs are now pressed against the bed while his hands go to grip your waist harshly, "about spending your money? did you forget the rules, bunny?"

"n-no," you swallow, attempting to divert your gaze elsewhere.

his ringed hand hooks onto your jaw, forcing your gaze upright towards his. "look at me when i'm talking to you, doll. did you forget the rules?"

"no, i didn't forget the rules," you shake your head, your bottom lip pouting slightly as you answered him.

"tuh, i was almost hoping you had forgotten," he says with a shake of his head, his jaw ticking, "i'm already pissed the fuck off about work, then i come home to see this?"

"m'sorry, baby," you tell him, your eyes downcast slightly, until suddenly they glimmer with an idea as you look up at him. "do you wanna talk about work?"

"no," he grunts, tracing small patterns along your waist as you're still pressed up against him, causing your legs to almost give out, "i don't want to talk about shit."

"you can take your anger out on me," you meekly suggest to him, looking up with doe eyes as you trace patterns along his chest.

his blue eyes turn dark and his gaze on you now primal, as he licks his lips whilst he looks down at you — he pulls you flush against himself, connecting your lips angrily as your teeth clash. he hooks his arms under your legs and lifts you onto the bed, throwing you back down as his lips never leave yours.

he swallows a moan you let out as his tongue explores your mouth, the kiss sloppy while his hands travel up and down your body — he tugs at your bottom lips and clamps down on it slightly, causing you to whine as he pulls away, your saliva connecting both of your lips.

"such a whiny girl, always so needy," matt hums, tugging on the waistband of your shorts as he licks his lips, "you gonna let me taste you, princess?"

"please," you whine out, bucking your hips up into his to gain some sort of friction, "need you so bad, matt."

he presses your hips back down into the mattress, connecting your lips once again in a hungry, impatient kiss. he travels down to your neck, biting on the sensitive skin there and pulling out a moan from you, as he continues in a pattern leaving you writhing under his grasp.

he pulls away to admire his work with a smirk. "can't wait for you to see what that looks like."

his lips are back on your skin feverishly, pulling your top over your head as he travels down and leaves a trail of kisses to your stomach down to your navel, causing you to whine as he makes his way to the lower half of your body slowly. "matt, don't tease me-"

"i can tease you however i want, bunny," matt growls as he latches onto your thighs, his fingers creating crescent shapes in your plush brown skin as he yanks you closer to him. "now be a good girl and let me have a taste."

he's quick to snatch both your shorts and thong off your body, moving so that his face was level with your already wet pussy — he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your sensitive bud, licking and sucking at it harshly causing a string of moans to erupt from your throat.

"f-fuck matt, feels so good!" you moan out, arching your back as one hand goes to grip his hair whilst the other fists the sheets.

he continues his assault on your pussy, licking a stripe up it before he decides to add two fingers in your dripping core while he eats you out. "oh m-my gosh, yes!"

"could taste this pussy for hours," matt groans, diving back into you with his mouth as his fingers curl inside your walls.

"please, don't stop!" you whine out, tugging at his hair harshly as his fingers curl into the sweet spot inside you, his tongue nipping and sucking at your bundle of nerves.

"you close yet, angel?" matt asks you, coming up quickly as he stares at you, your head thrown back and back arched, and he feels the way your walls squeeze his ringed fingers. "let go f'me, c'mon."

"fuck, i'm-"

like a tidal wave your orgasm comes crashing down, and you let out a loud pornographic moan of matt's name whilst you squirt all over his tongue — he lapped up the remainder of your juices, swallowing every drop as he comes up, a wicked grin painting his features as he stares down at you.

"can't wait to fuck you dumb, baby," he mumbles, quickly sliding out of his sweatpants and boxers, his cock wet with precum.

your eyes widen slightly, your lip beginning to quiver. "m-matt, i'm still sensitive-"

"i know you can take it, doll," matt tells you, stroking his cock along your pussy, lubricating his cock in your juices causing him to let out a low moan, "look at me."

without warning, he rams into you, his hips snapping against your pelvis causing you to cry out, the pain soon turning into pleasure — your nails dig into his back which were sure to create scratches as he plows into you.

"oh fuck me, your pussy feels so good," matt groans, his cock sliding in and out of you at an ungodly pace. all that could be heard was the squelching of both your juices mixed with the slapping of skin.

"right there, fuck!" you moan, arching your back as his tip kisses your cervix, causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head as your nails dig into his flesh.

"such a potty mouth," matt tuts, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. he glares down at you, one hand wrapping around your throat, putting slight pressure onto it, "oh, and did you think i forgot about your little shopping spree? such a bad girl, don't know when to listen to me."

he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, this new angle causing you to see stars as his pace somehow increases — you're a moaning mess and you'll definitely be sore by the time he's finished, but you didn't care; you loved when he fucked you senseless.

a small puddle of drool formed at the creases of your mouth, your eyes still rolled back as matt's cock continued thrusting into you harshly. "look at that, all fucked out f'me. you liked being fucked like a slut?"

all you could do is nod and whimper, causing his to grip your chin once again, forcing your gaze towards his own. "use your fuckin' words, doll face. you like being fucked like a slut?"

"y-yes, matt," you babbled, clenching around his cock as your nails drove into his flesh harder, "m'close again..."

"yeah?" matt groans, his hips snapping against yours relentlessly as his cock drilled into you, "hold it."

"i-i can't-"

"you can bunny, and you will," matt growls in your ear, biting down on your earlobe slightly before he presses sloppy kisses against your neck, biting down harshly, "fuck, i'm gonna cum. gonna let me fill you up, princess?"

"please," you whimper, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

with a moan of your name and multiple curses, matt shoots his load inside of you, painting your walls a creamy white as his hips sputter — however, he doesn't stop his assault on your pussy, still drilling his cock in and out of you.

"go on and cum f'me angel, i can feel you squeezing me," you groans in your ear.

another loud moan ensued, as your legs shook and you came on his cock, your juices now mixing with his — after one last sloppy thrust, matt pulls out of you and falls down next to you.

"you okay, bunny?" matt asks you, placing a kiss to your temple as he rubs his hand along your stomach.

"just can't move that good," you mumble weakly, giving him a small smile.

"fuck, c'mere baby," matt curses, and you scoot as close to him as possible.

he hooks both arms under your legs and your head, carrying you towards your shared bathroom — you stood there weakly, your legs still shaking as he helps you sit down so you can pee.

"stay here, and you better pee, okay?" matt instructs you, and you hum as he leaves the bathroom momentarily.

he comes back with a washcloth, wiping your legs up and rubbing smooth circles around it, causing you to relax as you smile down at him shyly.

"how bout we take a shower?" matt asks you, and you nod giddily.

matt helps you stand up and he flushes the toilet. when you turn to the mirror, your eyes widen at your neck, and you move as to get a better look at what it says.

m a t t.

lil 💌

hi gang, hope i ain't disappoint w this smut😞 my thighs were lowkey clenched the entire time, i need someone to ruin me like this💔 i love you guysss hope you enjoyed ts muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @middlepartmatt @chris-slut @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturnprime @sp3aknaur @hysteria-things @stasiesturn @moonk1ss3d @l0akkzz @sturn777 @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @jnkvivi @hoesformatt @sturncakez @livelovepercabeth

[lingeriae]

you catching an attitude w your best friend!connie after seeing him posted up on a girls instagram? whewwww...

warnings - flufff, connie has nip piercing, mention of readers pum pum but there is no sex! kissing, ass slapping, connie literally says he's gonna have sex with the reader, jealousy, toxic connie if you squint a lil, cursing, reader is female,not proofread, raeder and connie are aged up to 21+

It's a wednesday night when you're scrolling through tiktok with connie on facetime, your laid on your tummy with your feet swinging behind you, thighs being squished by the pink thigh high socks you had on. you giggle at a tiktok your friend scent you moving to reply but pausing to roll your eyes at the deep voice that came from your phone speakers.

"What got you giggling like that?" his voice is raspy due to all the screaming and hollering he was doing while on the game with ony, he glances at you for a second before dragging his eyes back to his computer screen cussing said man for some unknown reason. "why this fool wont stay outta my business." you mutter showing the top half of your face so he wouldn't see the grin on your glossed lips as you watched how he side-eyed you.

Your phone vibrated as you got a notification from instagram, your brows drew together at the message immediately clicking it.

big cocky deja 👅

girlll....

shared @sasha's story

i be instigating or is that baldie???

aint yall talkin??

Lashes fluttering as you blinked at the picture, slowly sitting up as you clicked on the story zooming in lips slowly parting in disbelief. "What's wrong?" the sound of his voice sudddenly reminded you he was on the call, quickly clicking on to the call you rubbed your lips together with drawn eyebrows suddenly becoming irritated with his prescence as you felt your lashes get wet. "Who the fuck is Sasha?" you asked with a steady voice, pushing up your lips impatiently as you waited from his to answer the question.

Connie paused his game at your question, eye brows furrowing as he turned to look at you. He bit his lips as he looked at you, noting the irritation your face with a shake of his head he turned back to the game. "Don't wory bout it." Your face twisted at his words staring at his side profile for a minute before sucking your teeth not carying if he could note how upset you were.

"Alright, bro, bye." not giving him the chance to answer you hang up deciding to go on 'sasha's page to stalk her itching to find out who she is, and what relation she has to connie. Mid scrolling you pause at a picture of her kissing connie's cheek, it was posted a few months back but it still made you feel a pit in your stomach and made you gnaw at your lips while tears ran down your cheeks. Connie was messaging your phone non-stop, telling you to stop playing and answer his messages, trying to explain shit between him and the sasha girl, but you didn't bother reading any replying with a simple thumbs-up emoji and muting him.

You thought about how silly you were being seeing as how you and Connie weren't even together, but it felt like you were. Always together and if you weren't you'd alway be on the phone, always telling each other shit, always sharing tender touches and meaningful glances at eachother - fuck he even called you 'his girl' infront of his homeboys, didn't that mean you were together? although, he didn't ask so that technically didn't mean you were but you weren't seeing nobody and he reassured you that he wasn't either, was that just a lie?

Sniffing you clicked off of sasha's profile, leaving your phone on the bed as you got up to use the bathroom. Looking at your puffy eyed expression you sucked you teeth mad at yourself for crying over some boy, you gently washed your face with cool water before using a towel to wipe away the water and applying baby oil to your plump lips, the sudden knocking on your door had your eyebrows furrowing until you realized who it could be. The thought alone caused an annoy sigh to leave your lips, and for you to feign ignorance to the fluttering at you stomach at what would happen.

Taking your time to walk at the door, stopping at mirror on the wall to fix your appearance and unbuttoning your snoopy pajama top to show a little of your cleavage, a gold necklace with the inital 'c' glistening against the pretty brown skin of your supple breast, you turned to look at the shorts bending over to shake your ass a little but quickly standing up as Connie's knocking grew louder.

Rolling your eyes you walked up to the door, pulling it open to reveal Connie. Your pussy did a thump thump as you took him in, a black tank top you're sure he just slipped on in a hurry, his nipples along with his nipple piercings pushing against the material of it and grey sweatpants. His hands were shoved in the pocket on his sweatpants as his eyes roamed your body slightly pausing on your thighs that spilled through the material of your socs, jaw clenching as he finally met your eyes with an eyebrow raised.

Leaning against your door you look him up and down before looking at your coks clad feet, fidgeting as you felt his gaxe pierce into you. "Whatchu want Connie? It's late."

He quinted his eyes at you letting out a sarcastic laugh with his tongue poking his inner cheek, "You too good to look at me, or sum?"

Cocking out your hips with your arms crossed over your chest, you shook your head before rolling your eyes at him moving to shut the door while muttering "I aint got time for this." softly under your breath. Your breath hitched as Connie held unto the door, pushing it open and walking inside before shutting it behind him leaning against the door and refusing to break eye-contact with you.

Scoffing you turn your back to him before walking to your room, an extra sway in your hips as you feel him walking closely behind you, eyes on the fat that spilled out of the material of your shorts hearing him cuss under his breath as he almost hit a wall from not staring caused a small smile to pulll at your lips. falling unto your bed with a huff you glared at him. You hated the fact that he looked so good, his muscle atraining againt the material of his tank top as he crossed his arms looking down at you, dick straining against his sweatpants, your mouth almost watering at the sight had you looking away.

"What's your problem?" laughing with a shake of your head you pointed a finger towards your chest. "Me? I don't got a problem, cause im not supposed to worry about it right? tuh fuck you take me for."

Connie groans running a hand down his face mumbling something in spanish under his breath, fueling your anger. After he disregards your question he comes into your house acting as if you were the problem, when he was out there laid up with other girls. You stand up from the spot on your bed smacking your lips together as you snatched your phone from it's position on your bed, walking past him making sure not to touch him as you made your way to the kitchen. His mouth parted at your attitude, hot on your trail as you began mumbling some shit under your breath.

"Don't even know why I fucking bother, aint like you my man anyway-" you inhaled deeply as connie pressed himself behind you, mouth running dry as you felt all the muscle beneath his tank top and his dick against your ass hands shoved into his pockets as he watched you take a water bottle out of the fridge with shaky hands, trying your best to ignore his presence behind you.

"Whatchu mumbling? Say it again so I can hear you." The vibration from his worth runs throughout your body and straight to your pussy, your back straightens as you close the fridge spinning around to through him a weak glare that quickly flattered as he looked down at you through his lashes, his eyes almost seeming dark. Your legs shook as he licked his lips the action not going unnoticed by him, you took a deep breath before unlocking your phone, shoving it into his face a second later refusing to meet his eyes.

His honey coloured eyes dragged from your face to your phone, taling it from you to look at what you were shovwing him properly, his lips parting to release a huff that sounded too close to a laugh had your eyes dragging from the floor to meet his, shivering a bit as they were already on you. Raising a brow at you connie licked his lips, "You jealous, ma?" giving him a blank look you tried snatching your phone out of his hand only for him to move it back, your chest now pressed against his. Biting your lips as you feel his nipple piercing rub agains your nipples, you try not to let a whimper escape you at the groan he lets out and the look on his face, bottom lip tucked between his teeth with a pink blush across his face and a look of lust in his eyes. You shiver as he removes the hand he has in his pocket, bringing it to rest on your back to keep you against him.

He rubs his nose against yours before resting his forehead against yours gently squeezing your hips, he kisses your lips twice transferring the baby oil you placed on them earlier t his lips, and you allow him savouring the taste of them like you have many times before. "Sasha's this girl I used to talk to," he says after a minute, letting out a breath through his nose at the way you tense beneath his touch and try to move away before he's pulling you back against him placing your phone on the counter so that he can hold your face. You look at him with your lips folded, hurt evident in your expression which caused him to sigh softly and kiss your cheeks. "We weren't together cause I found out she was messing round with some guy. I haven't talked to her since, and I wouldn't have known she posted that shit cause I blocked her."

eyes watering, the tips of your figer brush aginst the thread of his sweat pants as you play with the strings watching the way you twirl it around your finger, sniffing you slowly look up at him rubbing your lips together. "You promise?" humming he kisses you again, leaning back wiping under your eyes.

"Promise baby." you pull him down to kiss you again, parting your lips to give him access and sighing into his mouth as his hands slip under your snoppy pajama top. He leans back again pecking your lips and resting his forehead against yours with closed eyes, you feel his hands move from your face to your hips inching towards your ass before he gives it a squeeze laughing as you hiss at him and try to remove his hands.

"Looked too good not to," He says leaning down to kiss you again, " gonna fuck the shit outta you for giving me so much attitude." the sound of a smack sounds through the air as connie slaps your ass, rubbing it after and laughing at your whines.

"Connie! Don't do that shit it hurts!"

[wettvagina]

STICKY ICKY

desc: ohmygod! eren yeager, the college jock everyone wants to fuck, got his dick leaked all over campus. with his dickpic in every girl's phone, what happens when you finally get to see it.. warnings: p in v , creampie , blowjob , hottub sex a/n: dont do this irl guys, you will get an sti!

The bottom of your sandals clicked as you walked through the hallway of your apartment, the crisp air smelled like baby powder and cold donuts, the air conditioning system pumped frigid wind onto your face, causing a shiver to go down your spine, your face scrunched as you hurried to find your keycard, almost excited to get to your comfy queen sized bed, located in your cozy, homely room.

You saw the card scanner emit a green flash of light, indicating that the door was unlocked, with a flip of your wrist you unlocked the door, hearing everyone's voices in full volume. "No way! Is this what....the second time?" Sasha snorted, "No, this is the first time." Mikasa retorted in her usual calm voice, a slight smirk on her face as she conversed amongst the group of Ymir, Historia and Sasha.

The four of them sat on the floor of your living room, the pink, fuzzy carpet under your coffee table provided an area for Sasha to lay down as she snacked on some gummy worms in her hand, "Oh you're home, come look at this." Ymir's voice rang, your brows furrowed and you briskly deserted your belongings onto the couch before looking at what was displayed on Ymir's phone.

"WOAH!" your eyes widened as your friends snickered, "Thoughts?" Sasha chirped, "First of all, why is it so big?" you announce, "And veiny and pink." you went on, "Guess who?" Sasha snorted once again, "Wait that's real, no way, I thought that shit was AI generated or something the way how big it is." you mention as you crossed your legs to sit on the floor.

"Oh, yeah, it does look kinda fake cuz' it's zoomed up." Ymir mentions before taking her thumb and index finger to pinch at her screen, showing you the original picture, "No way! Is that?" you shouted, "Uh huh." Ymir nodded, you looked at Ymir's phone with wide eyes and a slightly heated face.

The erotic picture on Ymir's phone showed the school's thotty hottie, Eren Yeager, shirtless, grey sweatpants slightly pullled down exposing his hard cock, his phone was in his hands, half-way blocking his face but everyone knew it was him. His tense abs glazed with sweat and his dick was just panty wetting.

"No way." you iterated, in complete disbelief, feeling a sense of loss as Ymir pulled her phone away, "I mean, definitely not surprised." Historia chimed in, "He is him, after all." Mikasa sighed, "A manwhore." Sasha snarled while chewing, "Wonder who leaked it though." you say chewing on your nail.

"Hm, I say it probably got surface from his hidden Twitter account or something." Ymir suggested playfully, "Or OnlyFans." Sasha teased, "I wouldn't doubt it." Historia shrugged, "His fans are definitely getting off to that." Ymir taunted, "I know I am." you say, half heartedly. "Gross." Historia giggled, "What? I mean did you see that thing, it's like a uterus pounder." you sneered.

"That is nasty, but you're right though." Sasha agreed, "I dunno' how I'm gonna look at him the same." Mikasa shook her head, causing everyone to giggle. "Can I see that again?" you questioned, making Ymir turn on her phone, pointing the screen at you to which you grabbed, examining the entire picture oncemore.

"Hm, yeah I think I wanna fuck him now." you admit, "C'mon, have some respect for yourself." Historia joked, "No like seriously, he's carrying a third leg." you say straightforwardly. "Well I mean, if you wanna take a ride on that horse, go for it. Eren is pretty easy." Ymir states, "Yeah, wear a condom though, you wouldn't want to get any...disease." Sasha encouraged, "You know there is that party tonight." Historia mentions, "Well, it's confirmed, I'm fucking him tonight." you declare with heavy emphasis on the word fucking.

"Good luck, girl." Mikasa cheers on.

It seems the universe had been on your side that night, as Eren was nowhere to be found in Connie's condo party, you looked in every corner, bathroom and bedroom, he was absent. What if he did show out of embarrassment, I mean his dick literally just got leaked everywhere, or wait, did he have a girlfriend? And was he hooking up with her???

You obviously did not think this plan through, leading you to go on a sex-deprived, drunken rant to everyone about how you hadn't had any good sex in three months, leading Jean to pushing you outside Connie's condo, telling you to 'get some air', so you went at the top floor, to actually get some air.

And there you found him, smoking weed near in the hottub. Oh boy it was a scene, he was half naked, those God-carven abs on full display along with his v-line, his hair was free and rested delicately along his shoulders.

Smiling to yourself, you had schemed a profound plan. You threw your dress of your body, thanking yourself for wearing a matching underwear set of a pink push-up bra and matching panties. You composed yourself, barely walking in a straight line as you approached the hot tub which was sectioned off in a small square near the pool.

"Oh, I didn't realize the hot tub was occupied." You say, your glossed lips pursed once you finished talking, "O-Oh. I don't mind." Eren says calmly, taking a final puff of his blunt before discarding it. "Really? Well if you don't mind." you smirk to yourself before getting into the hot tub, the space was small, but wide enough to keep you both at an appropriate distance from eachother as you sat parallel to him, your face facing his as he exhaled the smoke.

"I've seen you before." Eren immediately striked conversation, "Yeah? I've seen you too." you smirk, Eren blushes, seemingly getting at what you were saying, "Right, we have the same major?" he asks, "Hm, what's your major?" you ask, noticing has gaze raking your body. "Huh?" he asks like an idiot, "I said what's your major?" you repeat with a sweet, calm voice, "Oh- Computer Science." he says, "Mines Econ, we probably share some classes though." you mention, "Yeah." he agrees.

"I didn't know you live in this building." Eren admits, "Oh, right." you say awkwardly, it's cuz' you dont, your broke ass lives in the building atleast four blocks away because it was the cheapest option, only rich guys with sport scholarships live here.

"Well, you barely know me, haha." you giggle awkwardly, "Well, wanna change that?" he asks with a smirk. "What are you trying to say?" you question, and in one swift motion his body is near you and his hand is ontop yours. "You know what I'm trying to say." he says, and with that final sentence, he leans in for a much anticipated kiss.

His pink, swollen, warm lips rode against yours, as you felt his hand wrap behind your neck, pulling you in closer as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His body cages yours as your back presses against the wall of the hot tub the warm water surrounded your body seemingly intensified it's tempurature.

His hand lowers to your ass, grabbing at the plump flesh as he presses kisses along your neck, his hand lowers to behind your knee, hooking both hands behind each of your knees as he pulls you up onto him, continuing to kiss onto your neck, you drape your arms around his neck feeling your clit throb against your panties.

Feeling his dick slightly poke against your inner thighs, you feel him pull away. "No- we should stop." he says almost shyly, still holding you up, "Why?" you question immediately, "I don't have a condom." he says while looking down. "Good, I wanted you to fuck me raw anyways." you say eagerly.

He grins before letting you off of him, spinning you around so that your pelvis pressed against the walls of the hot tub, you feel his hand on your ass underwater and his lips come near your ears, "You sure?" he asks, "Mhm." you hum, and feel some water splashing as he takes his dick out, you look back at at, seeing it in the flesh.

Lawd, it was bigger in real life, you couldn't wait for him to just fuck you already, you knew that you probably added some liquid into this hot tub with how wet you were. You continued to watch back as he slipped it in, slowly rocking his hips onto your ass, you arch your back as his huge dick was only half in.

"Shit." you hear him groan, and you push back onto him, his entire dick entered your pussy and you watched as his face contorted to match the pleasure he was feeling, his brows shot up and his eyes glassy. "'m gonna move." you hear him say, your hum in response was turned into a moan that fell off your tongue as he harshly pressed himself against you, grabbing onto your hips as he pounded into your pussy.

The only sounds you heard was his groans and grunts, as well as the sound of his skin slapping onto yours which was muffled by the splashing of water. "Oh shit." you cried out as you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips, his pace increasing.

"Shit." his breaths were ragged as he watched down to where his dick slid in and out of your welcoming pussy, he slightly smirked at the sight as he leaned his face to the back of your neck, inhaling your scent before kissing onto your skin.

You were a bit surpised since he was fucking you like if you were his wife or something, you barely knew him, but you had no complaints and your thoughts were immediately slammed out of your head when you felt his dick tense inside of you, "Oh-" his words were cut off when you felt your insides get warmer, hearing him pant as he released his warm come inside of you.

"Shit." he groans, pressing himself deeper into you, his pelvis jamming against the curve of your ass as he rides out his high, moaning and groaning into your mouth as you turn your head to look back at him, only for him to kiss you oncemore.

He pulls out of you swiftly and you hear the water splash, "You think you can go for one more." you ask looking back at him, "Sure." he smiles, "Follow me." you say, climbing out of the hot tub, and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him the the changing rooms, you go into the women's changing room with your hand in his.

It was late and the room was empty, you passed through a series of empty toilet stalls to get to the other side of the room which was a changing room with showers, "Sit." you instruct, watching as he sits on the bench in front of you. You get onto your knees between his thighs, pulling at his waistband watching how his cock already erected again.

You didn't hesitate to take his cock into your mouth, sucking on the tip before licking onto the entire shaft, your lips pressed around his tip as you swirled your tongue around the slit, licking at the beads of precome around the swollen tip.

"S-Shit." you hear him groan as your head bobs on his cock, you continue to suck on the tip while stroking the parts of his dick where your mouth wasn't on. You released the tip from the warmth of your mouth to spit on it, taking it back into your mouth oncemore as you try to fit his entire length into your mouth.

His fists clench and his knees were almost shaking, loose strands of his hair hung in front of his face as water droplets ran down his bare chest and down to his chiseled abs. "Fuck." he grunts, hand digging into your hair, you look up at him as he jolts his hips forward into your mouth, making his tip hit the back of your throat.

And within seconds he's coming in your mouth, you feel his hot, white come in your mouth as he groans, thighs shaking as you continued to lick at his tip while he comes in your mouth. "Fuck!" he curses as he rides out his second high, hips stuttering slightly when you rub at his dick while he's still coming.

"I need your number." he says between heavy breaths.

[mommypieck]

Ok so this might be a lot but misaka, sasha, Ymir, historia are having a sleepover but it just so happens that y/n is the special guest but she doesn’t know what she’s in for.

"so y/n, tell me, is there any boy you like?" sasha asks, plopping down next to you on the bed. she throws her hands around your neck and pokes you into your side, making you squeak. you laugh at her behavior, cuddling into her side.

"no, i am not really into boys." you say under your breath, looking down at your lap. ymir whistles, crawling closer to you.

"we got ourself another gay," she laughs, lightning up her cigarette, "you want one?" you politely decline her offer, playing with your sleeves.

"it this your first time having a sleepover?" historia asks you, sitting in front of you. you have always liked her smile, she's the type of person that makes everyone fall for her.

"you're my only friends here." you confess. it's true, they are the only people who were eager to talk to you in the new school. you see ymir give mikasa a look you're not able to understand, but you just hope they also see you as friends.

"of course. we really love you." says historia, shuffling closer to give you a big hug. you feel emotional, you never had such amazing friends like these girls. you still felt unsure about the tension lingering in the air.

"mind if i take this off?" historia asks, not waiting for an answer and pulling her pink crop top over her head. you can't help but to glance on her bra clad boobs, the bra too small for her boobs.

"she's beautiful right?" ymir startles you, giving you a smirk. you stutter, not sure what to say, but sasha breaks the tention.

"your boobs are so firm too, look at them." sasha says, grabbing your right tit in her hand.

"w-what are you doing?" you ask her wide eyed. you didn't expect her to touch you like that but you aren't against it. her touch on your boobs feels good.

"let me touch her too." historia pouts as she takes your other boob in her hand. she looks you straight in the eyes while doing so, hypnotizing you with her gaze. you shiver a bit when you notice ymir glaring at you from behind historia. you've always thought those two were dating.

"you're really pretty." you feel hot breath on your neck from behind and your eyes meet mikasa's. she quickly undoes her bra, throwing it on the ground.

"who the fuck wear bra to a sleepover." ymir exclaims, sitting legs spread in front of you.

"you for example. sports bras are out of fashion." says historia as she nips at your breast. you moan loudly at her gesture, petting her hair out of her face. sasha pinches your nipple between her fingers, loving the noises you make.

you feel sashas hand rub at your core over your pyjama pants.

"she's so damp already." sasha asserts. you yelp when ymir grabs the waistband of your pants, pulling them off of you. "fuck." she breathes when her gaze meets your wet core.

"what made you so wet?" mikasa mumbles against your neck. you try to answer but the way they are all touching you just makes you let out a moan. ymir's fingers scoop your wetness and she puts it in her mouth to taste it.

"she's as sweet as she looks." she says, smirking down at you.

"not fair, i wanna taste her too." historia whines, pressing her manicured fingers to your pussy to taste you too. she moans when she tastes your juices.

"i wanna eat her out." she giggles, getting in between your legs but is shoved beside by sasha.

"i introduced herself to all of y'all, im gonna eat her out first." sasha says, diving in between your thighs. you fall back against mikasa's chest as sasha eats you out. mikasa busies herself by playing with your nipple while ymir fingers your clit. historia sits next to you with her own hand in her underwear, biting her lip at the imagine in front of her. sasha's lips smack with each stroke of her tongue, clearly enjoying the taste.

"anyone else wants a taste?" she asks suddenly, making historia jump out of her place. she quickly replaces sasha in between her legs, diving into your pussy as it was her last meal.

"fuck, if i knew you would be so eager to eat pussy, i would have kept you." ymir says, making historia give her a middle finger. mikasa's finger finds your clit and she rubs it in slow circles. you feel so close to orgasm and you know that it's gonna take only few more swipes of historia's tongue before you cum.

"i told you guys, she was a fucking slut from the first glance." ymir chuckles, grabbing your jaw to kiss you on the lips. that's your last straw. you cum undone between the girls, your pussy squirting in process. your whole body shakes from over stimulation as you lay between mikasa's legs.

"she's so cute." sasha tsks, giving you a little kiss on the lips.

[sunshineting]

this is my first ever fic 🥹 so um yeah

plug!eren x nerdy!chubby!reader

word count- 1686

summary- you're a stressed college kid that just needs to relax

MINORS DNI please‼️‼️

“Oh jeez… I hope he makes this easy,” you muttered to yourself. You were stressed. Stressed as hell. Studying for midterms was whooping your ass and all you needed was a little green to help you relax. Your friend, Sasha, had given you the number to her on-campus plug. She gave you the slight warning that he was a bit intense, but reliable. You finally grew some balls and texted the ominous number.

‘Is this Eren?’ You were always nervous talking to plugs. Your slightly timid nature always made them think you were a narc or something. Nope. Just good old social anxiety. Your phone’s ding took you by surprise; he responded fast. He simply responded with a question mark.

‘Sorry. Sasha gave me your number. I was hoping to buy from you’

After a few more text exchanges, you had agreed to meet him at his apartment to pick up.

“Apartment 913… where the hell…?” On your third time circling his complex, you finally found it. Three quick knocks on the door later, you were face to face with a man’s collarbone. You look up and are met with intense, deep green eyes.

Oh no, he’s hot. You push your glasses back up your nose and introduce yourself.

“H-hi, I’m Y/N. I was texting you earlier?”

A sly grin creeps onto Eren’s face.

“Wassup?” He flicks his head to gesture for you to follow him inside. His apartment smelled like weed and the musk of generic ‘male’ scented candles. There were LED strip lights just about everywhere, giving the place a blue tint. Adding to the blue tint was a huge fish tank with all types of exotic and expensive looking fish. Following his lead, you took a seat on the couch. You didn’t want to make yourself too comfortable, so you sat on the edge.

“You could get comfortable, lil mama. I don’t bite,” Eren says with a smirk. You barely moved. Between him being a plug and him being hot, your awkwardness levels were through the roof.

“So whatchu tryna get? A gram, a three five, a zip? You look like you like edibles,” Eren lists off his products.

“You think I like edibles cuz I’m chubby?” You mumble. He chuckles.

“Nah, I just can’t imagine your lil innocent ass smoking.” A small pout forms on your face as you let out a ‘hmph’.

“How much is a three five? I have cash,” you say, trying to get back to business. He tells you it’s twenty, but only because you’re cute. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. After your transaction, Eren offers to smoke you out.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I just bought some.”

“You’re turning down free weed?” He deadpans. You purse your lips.

“…no.”

Watching Eren handle weed was unreasonably sexy. The way his big hands gently packed the blunt was mesmerizing. He’d put his long hair into a bun just prior to the process. Hell, even that was sexy. The t-shirt he wore exposed each flex of his muscles as he expertly tied his locks up. You just about combusted when he was licking the backwood. The flicks of his tongue on the paper sent electricity straight to your clit. Were you imagining it, or was he purposely licking it as lewdly as possible? You felt wetness pool in your panties.

“I never really smoke blunts,” you confess.

“Oh? What do you use then?”

“It’s this little glass bowl I got in high school. It’s small but it gets the job done.” You smile. You could feel yourself getting more comfortable bit by bit. Eren sparked up the blunt and took a long hit. He exhaled smoothly and passed it to you. You took a small pull and the sour smoke filled your mouth. You tried to fully inhale, but the sourness of the tobacco and the strength of the smoke was too much. Choking and coughing, you hand the damned thing back to Eren. Yep, there was a reason you stuck to your bowl. Despite not getting too much, you were just starting to feel the relaxing effects.

“C’mere” Eren waved for you to come closer to him. Your inhibitions were lowered and you didn’t give yourself time to overthink. You scooched closer to him, but he pulled you impossibly closer. He had you pressed up against him; his warmth igniting every cell in your body.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded softly. You didn’t even have time to think, you just obeyed. Eren took a smaller hit than his last and pulled your face directly in front of his. Your lips were just barely touching when he blew his smoke into your awaiting mouth.

“Th-thank you,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. You were trying your damnedest not to moan. It’s been so long since you’d been fucked. Your vibrator was nothing compared to the real thing and holy shit was Eren real. Eren glances down at your lips and licks his own. He was unbelievably hard. From the moment he saw you at his door, he knew he had to have you. Call it a corruption kink or whatever, but he just wanted to ruin that innocent look you had.

“You want more?”

“Mmhm,” you whimper. You squeeze your legs together just to get any type of relief for your swollen clit. Your little pussy is weeping, clenching around nothing as he blows more smoke in your mouth. You continue this until most of the way through the blunt, then you tap out. You were very much high and the cottonmouth was setting in.

“Could I have some water please?” You ask your host. As he stands, you see a very obvious print in his basketball shorts. While he gets the water, you take the time to stare at his fish tank.

“It’s like Finding Nemo in this bitch,” you breathe out. Time was feeling wonky as Eren returned with your water. It felt like forever and only a moment all at the same time.

“Thank you!” You say before your first sip.

“So polite… What a good girl. Are you always this sweet?” Eren asks. You nod.

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl?” He questions as a hand begins to rub your thigh.

“Mmhm” you let out a breathy moan. With that, Eren picks you up and pulls you onto his lap as if you weigh nothing. His big hands grip both sides of your waist as he grinds you onto him. Your loose dress has been pulled up and pools around your thighs. Even clothed, you can feel his hard length pressing up against you.

“Let’s take this off,” he guides as he pulls off your cardigan. The removal of your cardigan causes the thin straps of your dress to fall off your shoulders. You felt like a mess and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Eren decides to finally kiss you and pulls your mouth to his. He was devouring you. Immediately he fills mouth with his tongue. It was the sexiest, sloppiest kiss you’d ever had. Your needy little cunt is aching for relief. It’s practically hurting. Your full tits were pressed up against his chest and he could feel your nipples poking him. Eren uses one hand to start rubbing your clit through your panties. You’re so grateful for the relief, it feels like you’re melting into him.

“Damn lil mama you got a super soaker down there. That’s all for me?” Eren chuckles. You only give a whimper in response. You were so embarrassed at how easily you’re folding for this man.

“You want me to fuck this little pussy? Hm?” He groans.

“Mmhm,” you nod and whimper.

“Use your words”

“Please fuck me! Please, please I need it,” you beg. Eren could feel the precum leaking from his tip. His dick was so hard it hurt. You stand for a bit to discard your dress, leaving you only in your teddy bear print panties. He’d taken this time to remove his own clothes and you could finally see the huge cock that you’d been grinding on. Holy shit, he’s big. His cock is thick and pretty, with the tip a dark rosy pink. Your mouth began to water. You want to suck it, but Eren has other plans.

“Come sit on this dick, pretty.”

You quickly oblige. Eren revels in how warm and soft your thick thighs are. As you sink down on him, both of you are surprised. Him, at how tight and wet you are. And you, at how fucking deep he’s going. You can feel every inch and the delicious stretch of him filling you up. He’s so thick, your walls have him in a chokehold.

“Fuck, it’s so big,” you moan. Eren can’t even think of a cocky response. All his concentration is going toward not cumming. It was bad enough the two of you didn’t use a condom but the last thing y’all needed was a pregnancy scare.

You start riding him, bouncing up and down trying to maintain a good rhythm. With one hand gripping your waist, he takes the other and rubs circles on your clit. The extra stimulation has you falling apart. You can feel your orgasm building higher and higher. Eren feels your walls tighten ever more and can tell you’re just about to go over the edge.

“Cum for me. Give it all to me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he damn near growls in your ear. The permission to cum finally sends you over the edge; wave after wave of sweet release relaxing your tense muscles. Feeling your squishy walls flutter from cumming sends Eren over the edge, too. He lifts you off his cock just as ropes of thick cum spurts out of him. You’d left a ring of cream around the base of his shaft. As you sit back on his lap, Eren says, “Don’t get your weed from anybody else ever again, you hear me? Next time you need anything – weed or dick – you hit me up. I’m serious.”

[grimesgirll]

being punish by rick & daryl, maybe for being a brat and going against their rules

“this is so elementary, rick.”

“yeah? and so is behavin’.”

you arch and whimper when another particularly painful swat lands against your bottom.

“but you seemed to miss the memo on that.”

the ricktatorship may be over but breaking one of rick’s golden rules results in corporal punishment. the only difference is that this time, rick isn’t just lecturing you but bending you over and none other than your daryl backs him up in his correcting of you.

you’re deliriously wet feeling his erection beneath you. it turns you on to no end knowing that you could squeeze an orgasm or two out of your lovers, “proving a point.”

rules are rules.

and rick and daryl declared that you can’t leave the gates until your concussion’s healed up.

at the tail end of a weekend run, you had the misfortune of running into a walker and being body slammed into the pavement of the hardware store parking lot beneath you. after a visit with denise determined that you’d acquired a light concussion, you were immediately instructed to take it easy, given some pain pills, and sent home with rick to draw you a bath.

your ex-sheriff had been so tender stepping you into the bath with him, spending enough time bathing and relaxing the tension in your muscles and below your concussion in your neck. he’s even sweeter toweling you off.

that’s why rick is beyond furious to find out that you’ve run out to the local big box store to comb for back inventory with sasha, aaron, and eugene.

“you were supposed to be here,” rick huffs. “healing. but no. you had to go and be stubborn.”

“disrespectin’ doctor’s orders,” daryl chimes in.

you let out a whine in disappointment, dejected that your younger lover won’t meet your doe eyes or talk rick down. daryl deferred to rick, if not out of reverence for your leader, then because he couldn’t help but want to see what happens next. he could try but he’s not immune to the mewls coming out of your honeyed lips or how your watery eyes have his pants suddenly feelin’ a little too tight.

tonight daryl won’t be saving you. why would he? you’re wriggling onto rick, wet little thing. why would he stand in the way of you getting stuffed full of cock just the way you like it?

you’re not quite there yet.

annoyed grievances float through your mind and out your mouth. just as they had earlier, your vexed complaints have rick tensing, rolling his eyes at you. just like you’d dismissed him initially once you’d pranced through the door with arms full of scavenged finds.

“my concussion’s healed,” you insist, still struggling on top of rick but not enough to actually get yourself anywhere. “there was no reason for me not to go.”

“uh uh,” rick hums and takes your chin in his hand, craning your neck back to look into his eyes, still irate, not yet succumbing to the sight of you on his lap like this.

“rick,” you’re protesting. you turn your head to daryl, who’s standing and observing the scene unfolding. “daryl,” you pout once he catches your gaze. “you know i was feeling better.”

“but you’re bein’ an asshole, baby.”

“just like rick - ah!”

“now what was that?”

now you don’t just feel rick’s sturdy hand against your ass but the lash of his leather belt.

“fuck!” you moan, wincing as a second strike burns not just your bottom but your core. your eyes flutter back up to rick. “you’re so not being fair right now.”

the ex-sheriff just shakes his head at you. “rules are rules,” and you’re writhing beneath the impact of another blow to your reddened rear.

“you like that, honey?” rick questions. “you like gettin’ spanked and not listenin’.” his grip loosens on the belt, dropping it from one hand to delve fingers first towards your dripping heat. he smirks at you. “knew i felt somethin’ wet my pants.”

it’s teasing - not even a punishment anymore, just gloating when he raises a glistening finger to the light.

“you always love this, don’t you?”

the frown you’re sending daryl for calling you out doesn’t stay on for long; rick abandons the belt turns you upright, situated on his lap before he plunges his middle and ring finger inside of you.

your face scrunches with surprise and softens, tensing again when he kneads your walls open. that pulsing pressure that had come to life as soon as rick had you bent over his lap is finally coming to fruition. every curl of rick’s fingers has you groaning like a walker.

“gonna spend a lot of time stretchin’ you out tonight, doll, but you’re still gonna need to learn your lesson. rules are rules.” he emphasizes his point by picking up the pace, earning purrs and pants from you.

“what’s my lesson?” the question comes from your lips, heavy with breath. the smirk you’re finally indulging daryl in invites him close enough to thumb over the fabric of your top.

“wanna know what your lesson is?”

you nod. the younger man’s eyes cloud with lust at you finally shuttin’ up and listening.

“you need to take care of yourself.”

rick accentuates daryl’s point with a grip on your hips and a beckoning finger against your plush interior. “you said your concussion was healed but you shouldn’t be pushin’ yourself like that.” he expresses in words, eyes softening. “we get worried ‘bout you.”

the fact that they may just be overly protective had crossed your mind. perhaps.

“‘you sorry for worryin’ us?” daryl’s on the bed, boots off and a hard on in front of you.

no response comes from you until rick’s working one out of you. the fingers dragging against your plush interior thrust further. your mouth opens in shock when a third finger wedges it’s way into you.

“yes,” you breathe, locking eyes with daryl. “i just thought you took care of me already.” your pants are rocky but the meaning you put into each word is unshakeable. “i don’t need to be on bed rest for a week.”

“yeah, yeah,” rick gruffs into your ear. you shiver when you feel his lips on brushing against your ear. “i don’t think you would’ve been complainin’ if we would’ve spent less time letting you rest and more time doin’ this, sweetheart.”

and he’s right.

one arm wrapped around your midsection, rick anchors you to him to rock you in time with his fervent fingers. one head nod from the man to daryl has him tugging off your top. the light squeezes to your chests and you’re basking in his touch. that nod might’ve been synonymous with daryl tripping every wire of pleasure your erogenous zones have to offer. and your favorite, talented mouth is puckering around your puffu nipple.

it’s like your night flashes before you when you come. you struggle to connect how you went from first being face down in the comforter to gushing all over rick’s thick fingers.

daryl is right there to steal the sweet sounds from your luscious lips, locking those velvety soft love vessels with his.

the whole thing has rick growing in his boxers. even as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, you cant and buck down into the denim of his straight legs. another look between your lovers and you’re right back where you started. you’re giggling as you bounce on the mattress from rick manhandling you into position.

now for the fun part.

“now come over here and show daryl how you’re supposed to use that pretty mouth.”

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

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[banquetwriter]

୨୧ distant love pt:3 ୨୧

pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ daddy kink :(, sex in a forest, low-key FILTH, OOC rick bc i wrote this with later season rick n mind :(, reader being mean to rick, Grimes being a massive simp to a women who isn't his wife lol

summary: ʚ when rck asks reader to join him on a run she remembers a steamy time in the forest ɞ

Words: 1654

AN: sorry for this being late and ooc i haven't written rick enough :/

Part 2 Part 4

“Hey.” Ricks's southern drawl fills the empty air of the room. It was nice out today so most weren't hiding out in their cells. You quickly shut the book closed so as not to embarrass yourself. You clear your throat giving him a closed-off smile.

“Hey. What's up?” you ask, standing up at the prison table. Shoving your book and pencil in the little bag you carry around with you. “I uh need your help on a run. If you can manage,” he says, placing his hands on his hips.

You look down at your bag as you zip it up. “Alone?” you ask, still refusing to look up at him. Rick can't ignore the way his heart stings at your question. “No. Sasha and Daryl will be with us,” he says and you're trying to ignore the way his tongue flicks against his cheek.

‘Us.’ what a cruel joke you think.

Thoughts of Rick continue to flood your brain. The thoughts of his rough big hands tugging on your clothes like it was keeping you down.

*flashback to the quarry*

You step over a branch. Rick had not-so-subtly asked you to join him for a “run” today. This affair/relationship had been going on for a while now. Sneaking away, releasing all the pent-up anger both of you accumulated.

A twig snapped behind you. Causing you to stop dead in your tracks. You were far from camp now. No one would be able to hear you if you screamed…

Suddenly you felt big strong warm arms slithering around your waist. You gasped at the contact. “Well well, looks like I caught a pretty little thing sneaking off huh?” Rick’s familiar drawl asks, nibbling on your ear.

You let out a small giggle, moving out of his touch and spinning around. “Oh yeah? Watcha gonna do about it?” you ask, leaning in close to his face. “Officer?” you spoke the last bit in a whisper.

Your heart flutters at the smile that breaks out on his face. His beautiful face. Ugh. There go those feelings. The ones you have selfishly been keeping to yourself. He had a wife who was cheating on him. This wasn't that bad, right?

“Officer huh?” he asks with a sly smile. You nod your head, yes holding your bottom lip in between your teeth. “That's what I said!” you say with a cheery expression. “Yeah?” he asks his slow drawl practically melting your insides away.

“You know what? I might just have to arrest you for being so damn beautiful,” he says, leaning closer to you with every word. You roll your eyes at his cheesy antics.

You cross your arms as you let yourself walk away from him. You feel his eyes on your body as you start to walk away. “Where do you think you're going?” he calls after you.

You only turn around giving him a cheeky smile in response. “Oh, that's it you little brat!” he murmurs out. He jogs up behind you with a few swift motions. He grips the sides of your arms, pulling your body flush against his.

His strong dominant arms move you toward the nearest tree. It wasn't hurting you per se, but you couldn't deny the delicious amount of pressure that he gave you through his hands.

Your body collides with the tree. Rick’s hands slide down your shorts and panties in one swift movement. The air hits your wet and exposed cunt with a flutter. Rick silently grips your hips, forcing your back to arch.

“Open yer legs,” he says, hand trailing down to your clit. You whimper at the contact. “Sh sh sh.” he tuts, his rough hands slowly finding their way to your sensitive bud. You gasp as his finger slowly starts working.

You grasp the tree for support. You must admit this was not the most comfortable place to have sex, but then again who were you to judge?

You felt your knees wanting to buckle as his pace quickened. “Rick.” is all you can muster out before he slips a finger inside you. Then he slips another one. Fastly pumping in and out of you, fingers curling.

Ricks's eyes are glued to your ass. Touching and rubbing your plump skin. Wanting to spank you till you bled. Fuck you were so perfect for him. So wet and tight.

“You like that baby? You being good f’me?” he asks with a growl. Getting right up next to your ear. You don't respond only moaning as his rough fingers pump faster inside you.

With your unresponsive attitude, he completely pulls his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss of contact and orgasm denial. “Rick,” you whine out. Your hair is already starting to get messy, and sweat is forming on your figure.

“Oh no, I don't wanna hear you whining about yer daddy not giving you enough. Just flip over me,” he commands with a condescendingly sweet voice. You do as you're told slowly flip a round for him.

“There's my pretty girl,” he whispers, pulling your face in for a kiss. Both of his giant hands clasping the sides of your face. He inhales, unable to pull away from you for even a moment. The wet sloppy sounds of your tongues and lips crashing on one another.

His hands find their way to your shirt fiddling for a second to take it off. He slips it off your figure, unclasping your bra. He presses his body against yours again deepening your kiss. His kisses slowly lead down your jaw and to your neck.

They go even further as he starts to kiss and nibble at your breasts. “No marks.” you whimper out holding the back of his head, fingers curled into his hair.

“Sorry darlin’,” he says, reaching down the rest of your body. Placing wet delicate kisses down your stomach and the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you with those sweet sweet eyes. His hands push your thighs apart.

Waves of heat flood your core. He avoids kissing your cunt. Teasing and pinching the surrounding skin. “Rick, I need you,” you whisper to him. Your hands holding the back of his head.

“I know I know,” he whispers. He holstered up one of your thighs, pulling you over his shoulder. He starts with a sensual slow kiss on the top of your cunt. His lips grazed your clit.

You shuddered at the contact. You were already so worked up. It was a wonder how Rick hadn't had more lovers in life. His hands felt so experienced somehow. Rough and yet loving at the same time. God, you would have worshiped the ground he walked on if he asked.

His dark eyes peeked over your body, his tongue and lips slowly bringing back all of the pleasure that you had felt only moments ago. “Mm fuck.” you gasp out. His tongue licks wide long strides up and down your cunt.

His hand snaked around the thigh that was over his shoulder. Keeping it held there, as you started to buck your hips against his mouth and nose. The only noises were your whines that you tried not to make for fear of leading a walker to you and the lewd noises coming from below you as Rick ate you out.

You feel a tightening spread through your body. You crave the release as you moan more frequently praying to whatever god there was to let you cum all over the sheriff’s tongue.

Rick had a dark knowing look in his eyes, he could feel your walls starting to tighten on his tongue. He could feel your hot body begging him to keep going. “Rick, don't stop m gonna cum.” you whined, your body rolling down onto his mouth further.

He was nodding, begging for your precious juices to flow down his throat. His rough and warm hands on your soft body finally push you over the edge. Your head falls back on the tree, and your cunt squeezes his tongue. Your orgasm flushes through you.

Your breath slowly returns to you. Earth coming back to you. Rick pulls away from you grabbing your discarded clothes from the ground as you rest on the poor tree. He dusted them off silently guiding your body back into your clothes.

Rick Grimes was dressing you. His rough hands that were moments ago touching your hands with lust were now sweetly redressing you in clothes he ripped off. He re-ties your shorts and clasps your bra.

And all you can do is watch. This was the Rick you were falling in love with. Not the one who flipped you over to get his dick wet. The ones who protected his son to the very best he possibly could. Rick’s eyes make it to yours, brushing the shrubs that managed to find their way into your hair from the tree.

His hands clamp around your cheeks pulling you into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hand moved to clamp on your neck so did his mouth moving down. You could feel him hungry to nibble and bite your skin.

“Rick!” you shouted pushing him off of you. “No marks,” you muttered, feeling your neck sting. Even if there weren't any hickies there had to have been a few teeth-shaped nicks.

You clenched your jaw and walked away from him continuing on your “run” with Rick. You didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. What was he thinking? Marks like that on your neck could get you caught.

*back to the present the prison*

You blinked back to reality thinking about your previous rendezvous with the man standing in front of you. Pretending like you two hadn't had an affair. “Yeah I can go with,” you mumbled. You bumped into his shoulder when you walked away making him scoff at you.

[writella]

hi, sweetie! Hope you’re doing well. I just had the cutest thought that I wanted to share. And maybe if you want to add on to it as a drabble or something please feel free:) if not, then please just enjoy todays shower thoughts lol.

I’m thinking about a friends with benefits! reader and Daryl who find themselves travelling by canoe for whatever reason. And how they might get into some petty argument or even play fight that ends with them flipping the boat and the two of them just stand in the water, soaking wet and staring blankly at eachother with disappointment. Bangs sticking to your both your foreheads as the canoe slowly floats down the river along with all your dignity.

Take care! xoxo

Rocking the Boat

Synopsis: Daryl has been back home for weeks; the first attack against the Sanctuary is complete; Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop are on their way to freedom; but nothing is the same as it was, especially not with you and Daryl. Maybe a house boat side quest will break the ice, or really, make some waves.

Details: This is set during the beginning of season 8, it includes violence, smut, a fwb relationship but feelings are involved, mutual pining, a little bit of switch Daryl and reader, and some sweetness because I think it’s just my thing at this point. ♡

A/N + Response: Hello, lovely miss T ♡ what a fun idea!! I love the imagery you set with the canoe tipping over, especially the bangs so cute— it was one of my favorite parts to write here! This is probably a bit unrealistic and much longer than I intended, so I think I might consider this a full one-shot as well as a concept, and… it’s also a bit sad? Just a little until we get to the good stuff, I promise ;) Anyway I hope you like it; let me know what you think!!

Daryl sat on Rick’s porch, his back against the poles, reloading his guns as you sped up the steps, “I think we should go back to the boats. Now.” Your voice was hurried, you had run all the way from your house, but he didn't even look up at you.

“Why would we do somethin’ stupid like that?” His voice was low, and annoyed. You didn’t expect to be greeted kindly, but at least he sounded like anything other than emotionless to you since the first time you saw him again; since the time he escaped the Sanctuary.

“There’s no one there. I saw it before I got back home. There were people with guns sitting outside the first time we saw it, but now there aren't.”

“A couple of guns ain’t gonna help us.”

“There had to have been a reason they were guarding it before.” Your words were urgent and your eyes pleaded for him to look up. “Any amount of guns could make the difference, Daryl. You know that.” You stare at him, waiting for nothing as he doesn’t respond. “Did you and Rick even find anything before you got back?” You cross your arms, “Cause it doesn’t look like it. And I think I just did.”

You had gotten separated from the group after the first attack against the Sanctuary: you ran without thinking, just trying to get away from the army of walkers stampeding the place. Straying off the usual path to Alexandria, you accidentally reencountered a place you and Daryl only saw once before. It was a time before Negan, before the Saviors. But now, remembering their jackets, and their weapons, and how their bikes looked parked at the shore, you realized those were three Savior cabin boats— fairly sized, a bit rusty, they had a shack like feel, but it was big enough to stand and sleep in. Maybe something of use could be in there, and at least it was something to do while you waited for the final attack.

Similar to Rosita and Michonne, you also got hurt by the scavengers— day zero of the war, when Sasha died— but the girls left you here, they didn’t even tell you they were going, you didn’t even see them leave. But you needed to get out too; you needed to help. “I’m going with or without you.” Your anger started bubbling at his indifference, “And I saw you talking to Tara, I know you’re planning something, so if you want to go off with her and complete your idiot side plan-”

“You’re the one with the dumbass plan.”

“- then that’s fine!” You glare at him, his eyes still so evasive, it infuriates you. “My objective is to find more weapons, before the final attack.” You lied, you both knew your objective was to rest before the final attack, “So I’m gonna go do that.”

You begin to walk briskly. You knew he was going to try to stop you. You knew he was going to come with you when he realized, yet again, he couldn’t stop you, or… you hoped he couldn’t… Sometimes you forget how much stronger he is than you. You had a smart mouth and you knew how to get a reaction out of him, or at least you did in the past, but he could pinned you down with one hand, making you completely immobile— it’s happened before. The thought makes you walk faster, heading for the nearest car. You were trying to make a point although you weren’t sure what it was. You were just tired of sitting around, tired of his treatment— mistreatment, actually. You knew he had reason to act curtly, what he went through was unspeakable, but you were still there for him, waiting, but he never came to you. Not even late at night. Not even to simply sleep.

Just as you’re about to reach the car you feel his hand wrap around your arm, you almost let it yank you. Your breath is a heavy mix of fear and excitement as he does so. Maybe you finally got something out of him. Maybe you still have it. Maybe you still have him. “We don’t got time for this,” he hissed. Then his jaw clenched, it almost looked like he was chewing on something, “but you’re forgetting the boat.”

“It’s a canoe.” You were pushing it with the retort, he was coming.

He grunts as he lets go of your arm, it slapping down to your side. You wait for him by the car as he retrieves the canoe and paddles from one of the house garages. You guys had found it a long while ago, never knowing when it would be of use. That time was now.

The ride toward the waterfront was irritable and depressing to say the least. You wanted to be around Daryl, you wanted to stop him from going off plan with Tara, but most importantly, you just wanted to talk to him; finally and for once. You all were on the biggest missions of your life, in the biggest war of your life… who knows where your fates would lie after this, but he has yet to say anything to you that didn’t involve fighting the Saviors, and even with that, he didn’t say much. He wanted to win. He was ready to do it fast. Whatever it took. That was all.

He kept shifting in his seat, short, low grunts coming out of the side of his mouth— he didn’t want to do this right now, but he knew you were just as stubborn as him, especially when it came to him. As dumb as he felt this was, it wasn’t time for another person he cares about to get hurt.

“Stop fuming,” you muttered.

He snapped back, barking your name, “We’re in a war! We could be doin’ better things right now and got me here for what?”

“Maybe so you don’t kill people we need alive right now?” You were talking about Dwight, you did more than just see Daryl talking to Tara.

His following grunt truly said typical. “You always got your nose where it don’t belong.”

You ignore him, “We should follow Rick’s plan.”

He shakes his head, ignoring you this time. He’s tired of talking about this. He’s going to go on the boat, see if there’s weapons, get Tara, and use whatever you two find to complete his own plan at the Sanctuary. This needs to be done.

“At least it’s a little over 5 miles off the out-post the Kingdom took out,” you reason, “that must be why no one is there anymore.”

Still no response. Typical, it’s your turn to think it. You let go of talking to him for now. The rest of the drive was silent as well as when you get to your destination, starting to put the canoe on water.

You look at the three small, now unguarded, boats. Only one bike was by the land and there was blood splattered on the middle house, the biggest one. Maybe the Kingdom took out the guy that was there, but there were no boats or canoes around, no way for someone to get close enough inside.

You two get in, starting to row. “There better be somethin’ good in there,” Daryl huffed. You hoped so too. Uncertainty started filling in with the reality of your awful plan. There really could be nothing in there and you really could have spent your day doing something that mattered to the cause. If these boats held anything important, why wasn’t a Savior there already? But even worse, the realization that you were acting out of desperation just because Daryl had been acting so cold… felt even more terrible.

You knew Daryl was scarred, far more than before and you were trying to be patient. You were going to let him come to you. You knew he needed time, and he was at the Kingdom for a little bit anyway, hiding out from Negan. You couldn’t even talk to him if you wanted to because of that. But now you had been planning that first attack for weeks, you were sleeping in the same place together again, but not in the same room, not touching. And again, you understood why, but then again… you didn’t. It was so hard to gain his trust, for him to open up to you, you thought that was something you gained for keeps; but now he wasn’t even allowing you to have a friendship anymore, let alone this in-between relationship you used to have. It made you upset how much power you realized you let him have over you. You missed him so much, and now you weren’t even sure if he missed you back, or if he had reason to. Maybe it was just a fling after all.

War feels long, but it’s only a short time in truth. Nonetheless, a short time that can define who you are thereafter. This could be him, and maybe it always was. And this could be how you two will always be. Forever.

You decide to break the silence again as you row, your thoughts becoming insufferable: “That’s actually not the right technique,” you stutter, “if- if you’re curious.” You start to row based on what you taught yourself, the canoe going just a bit faster now, “I read it in a book from Deana’s old library.”

“So you read somethin’ in a book and now you think you know everything?” His eyes were annoyed. “Hmph.”

Your voice raises, “Well just because you’re so experienced in the wilderness or whatever doesn’t mean you know everything either.”

“I’m doin’ it fine.” He wasn’t. “You don’t even know how to swim.” You didn’t. “So maybe just be glad you ain’t dying today.”

You repeat yourself, “Still- doesn’t- mean- you know how to do everything… You expect me to think Merle took you canoeing? Of all things?” You cock your head, “Pretty sure he was out finding the next score.” You knew it was a low blow to bring up the dead brother, but you were upset. No talking and now insults? You could be cold too, even colder, even if you didn’t like it.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

Then you screamed. A walker with gills, swimming in the water approached your boat behind Daryl. Your voice made him turn around to see it. You take your paddle to try to stab it in the head, but the walker’s hands are along the canoe rim, coming closer to you, it makes you accidently hit Daryl with your swing. “Oh- Sorry!”

“Fuck!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry!” A realization comes, “Is this the guy?”

“If it was he’s been dead for a while.” Daryl shouts, taking out his gun and you take out your knife. He’s trying to shoot the walker in the head, it’s closer to your side now. But you’re thrashing and water is flying while you try to jab them in the head with your knife. The walker has one of your arms and you’re trying to pry it away with the hand that has the knife. Neither of you have a clear shot at getting the thing, all three of you rocking the canoe far too much.

“Stay still!” He yells at you.

“Im trying!” You shout with the same force, the same annoyance, “He’s not making it easy, Daryl!”

Daryl has a chance to shoot the walker in the stomach, and he takes it, but it does nothing. The walker’s hands on you do not quit. The two of you just keep yelling at each other, riling the walker up. You can hear the biting sounds they’re making near your arm.

He shoots again, but you and the walker are still moving too much and Daryl’s loosing balance. The walker is tipping the canoe with their hands, water splashing inside. The next bullet goes into the wood, making a hole.

Their starving mouth continues to try to bite at you. You pull using all your strength to get their mouth away, trying to use your other hand to slice into their head. You two have never seen a walker like this: they can swim and they’re so strong.

Water now fills the boat from the hole as Daryl moves forward on the canoe, pushing your head, his hand quite literally covering your whole face to shove you out of the way, getting a clear shot at the walker and firing at their head. He clicks twice: Boom. Boom. Guts and water fly everywhere.

The splashing of the water and the firing of his gun overwhelms all your senses. The weight of Daryl is on your side now, neither of you have balance; both your weights pull the canoe over the edge as it flips over entirely with you under it.

You scream, but your voice is muffled. You thrash around, trying to use what little experience you have. You come above water for a few seconds, wailing, and Daryl grabs you.

“Hey- Hey- Hey!” his words snap, rough like barks until he gets you to look at him, gripping your face so it’s forward. “It’s okay,” he’s breathing almost as heavy as you are. His voice becomes even now, “It’s okay.” You realize he has you in his arms— it really was okay.

Feeling he might make a comment about you almost drowning, you force yourself to speak through water filled lungs, “Don’t. Say it.”

So he didn’t. He just holds you tight, you even feel his thumbs squeezing into you at the waist now, and through half lidded eyes, you see his arms tense, working hard to make sure you never fall, but it’s at a half arm's length, his elbows bent. You blink rapidly, your wet eyelashes still flapping shut until you’re able to open them better. You can see Daryl more clearly now.

You try to swipe some of the hair out of your face. The baby hairs at the crown of your forehead stayed slick in place while some parts of your hair started to lightly form your wave or curl pattern, but in all, you were absolutely drenched.

Your hands now hold onto his forearms just as tight as his below. It was one of those rare moments where you remember just how blue his eyes are. Their narrow shape and the way his hair lays always hides them away. But the sun was behind you, casting its light directly on him and his hair was now slick to his head as well: only some of it resting on his forehead.

If someone were to describe Daryl’s looks, they would probably say something typical like dark and rugged. They don’t see what you see. God, you forgot how uniquely handsome he was.

His hair changed colors in the light, it wasn’t as dark brown anymore, flecks of it were a more golden brown in the sun. And you loved the mole that was just above his lip and facial hair. Almost no one else in the group had something like that. And now, there was the way his button down stuck onto his skin. The color was dark enough that it wasn’t see-through, but you saw every indent, every line of his bicep and tricep as you looked at his arms, trying to avoid his face, trying to avoid his chest or anywhere lower.

On the other hand, Daryl was trying even harder to avoid looking at your soaked body, failing even worse. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on how your chest huffed as you tried to catch your breath. Your collarbones are now exposed as your shirt slides down just a bit further, the light color almost see through because of the water, and your bra didn’t help much either. It was one of those without the padding, it was the only one that fit— your supplies, food and wearable, clean clothing, were running dangerously low at home. The thin material of both top garments showed how your nipples perked up now. And the way he had to grasp tightly on the smalls of your waist, feeling your stomach inhale and exhale as you calmed yourself down didn’t help either. It was like he felt your hold body moving… similar to a way he used to feel it.

It all makes him realize now how he hasn’t gotten the courage to look at you directly in the longest. God, he forgot how pretty you are. How lovely it was to hold you. Even if it was to escape death.

Your eyes are so big as you hold on tightly to his arms, you’re still shaken up. Trying to paddle your feet like you’ve seen on tv and in videos in the past. It’s adorable.

He didn’t dare look any longer, but part of him wondered if you were looking at him the same way. And you were. Specifically, the way you could see every line and ripple of his abdomen with his button up now glued to his body. As you let your eyes trail just a bit more form his arms, you noticed how magnified his chest looked, how his nipples were just as pert as yours.

It all made you feel something warm down below and it made something inside him twitch, but this wasn’t the time. He had been feeling so many things since he returned that he didn’t even know which ones to act upon first, so he reverted back to saying nothing, or at least nothing that had to do with how he really felt, how he really felt about you that is.

In the end, “You better hope I can make one of those shits run or we’re fucked,” was all he decided to say.

He moves your hands onto the back sides of his waist and he starts to swim. Your legs are off to the sides and he tells you to kick as he is and hold on tight as he swims you both to the middle boathouse, the one with the blood.

You hold onto the ledge as you finally arrive, allowing Daryl to go in first, checking for walkers at each boat. He does the side ones first. No one is there. Finally, he goes to the middle house: out of all of them, it’s the biggest wreck. The place is filled with pictures, Polaroids, scattered all over the place. It’s of the Saviors. And there’s all kinds of guns scattered on the floor, but he can’t help but to stare at the faces. He knew some of those faces.

You call his name, but he doesn’t respond. “What was in the other two?” You yell for him again, but nothing. You decide to go in the middle one as well, your eyes are amazed by the mess of guns on the floor. There were even ones still hooked up to the wall. There were knives and daggers too. Even glass cases with various bullets, you wondered what they did. Was this the emergency weapons stash? Had you reached it before a Savior could? “Why aren’t you picking this stuff up?” You look up at him impatiently, shaking your head and huffing, you’ll do it yourself you guess.

Daryl continues to look around, picking up a frame. The only framed picture in the boat. It was cracked on the ground: A Polaroid of Negan.

He takes the picture out of the broken glass to look at it closer. As if this wasn’t already the attitude of much of the Saviors, whoever lived and protected this place must have worshiped him. Negan stood proudly in it, his bat on the side of his shoulders, a big rifle strapped around his back on the other. His hair and beard was all black, and that notorious, all encompassing grin plastered his face from ear to ear. Daryl turned the picture over: the words, ‘Negan — The First Savior. My Savior,’ was written on the back.

It fired him up. It made him think of the dark, of that cell, of the food that probably wasn’t even food, when he was kicked and jumped by those Saviors in the parking lot, and that damn song— the saccharine melody would live on in his brain like a siren. There would never be silence inside him again. In fact, there never was. It was only louder now. So loud and so angry he feels it in his throat, traveling to his tongue, beneath his eyes, as he can no longer keep it in anymore; but he tries, and tries, and tries, quietly holding everything in while you keep collecting weapons, putting them in bags you find. The picture crumples in his closing hand, his fist turning red as he grips tightly, ruining the shining paper.

He slides down against the boat wall, sitting on the ground biting his tongue, stopping the feelings until you're done; until you two can leave and he can do what he needs to do. It’ll be without you, without Rick, without anyone. This needs to be done. He’ll do it.

“Daryl,” you call out, not facing him, collecting the bags. “I think I counted 32, but it could be 40… I think there’s smaller ones by the wheel and I didn’t even get the swords yet. If there's about the same number on the other two, there could be maybe over 100 new weapons,” you gasp with disbelief. “Were the other two like this?“

You we’re relieved, you knew it was a dumb plan, but you came out of it with a win; it was worth it. “Daryl, come on-” you turn to him now, “oh.”

You almost couldn’t see his eyes with how much more narrow he made them, they were practically closed and his face was down. You wondered if this was the moment you would first see him cry: his lip quivered, his face was as red as his fists, and he wouldn’t look in your direction, his head was basically to the wall as you started to walk to him.

Your movements are slow as you kneel down to the corner in which he sat. You place fingers along his jaw until your whole hand wraps around the area. Your strokes are gentle, feeling the bristles of his beard on your palm. He had been so angry since he returned, hell bent on war and death, but you remembered… he must have also been so sad, so depressed too. Poor boy, you thought. Poor boy, you forgot; in some ways, he still was just a boy.

You turn his cheek to face you, but his eyes don’t dare meet yours as a few tears start rolling out. Your own emerge too. It’s heartbreaking to see him like this.

You put your forehead to his, your nose rubbing against his own, “I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

You come even closer. Your lips lightly touch his, you’re tentative at first, not knowing if it was right, but then you feel his brush against yours just as light. You decide to move in, your lips parting his own as you kiss him.

Your tongue goes into his mouth, your hand raising his chin, you’re so delicate. He holds your shoulder, you lean into his bent body and your other hand slides against his chest. You’re both still wet and cold, but his heart beats warmly.

His head leans up against the wall as you push yourself further onto his lips. You hold his shoulders and he allows you to slide him down.

You look up at him, your hands on his shirt. This is not how you expected today to go. “Is this okay?” You ask softly. His nod is just as soft, you almost don’t see it, but his hands are lightly on top of your own as you unbutton his shirt, he lets you. It’s okay.

He’s unbuckling his belt now, pushing his pants down and your top goes over your head. He starts to unbutton your own jeans. It’s quiet except for your breaths, and the clinking of belts, and the undoing of zippers.

You pull him out a little more from the corner so you can straddle him. You start grinding your hips down into him and he pushes into your clit with his finger, circling it. The bit of warmness you felt below before is now almost pooling out instantly from just the littlest touches. Your back arches, you haven’t felt him in so, so long. You gasp and it accidentally turns into a moan. You’re so needy for it, but you remember: you want to help him.

Your hands move down to his stomach, your lips kiss his neck as your hands travels up to his chest and then back down, you start kissing him everywhere there as you do so, breathing him in, it makes him fidgety, little gruff sounds irruption from his throat, he’s trying to keep it in. Then you got even lower: you kiss down his cock until you’re at the tip. You lick at the pre-cum there. You put just a little bit of him inside your mouth, sucking, stroking the rest of it. His exhale comes out as a shaky gasp, he whimpers slightly.

Finally, you move back up and line yourself up with him, sinking down slowly as you look him in the eyes. You can’t help it, you start to ride him immediately thereafter. The stretch feels so good and so big and full as if you’ve never felt him before. Your moan is light and airy, you missed him. And he groans, “-ugh, fuck” and moans, “uh- mm- argh,” right after you do so. He missed you. You know that now, it makes you smile.

You lean up against him slightly. His mouth parted and you speak into it, your breast brushing against him as you rolled onto him, your stomached touching a bit. “I’ve got you,” you pant into his mouth, he’s panting too, “always.”

He holds onto your hips as you go faster, you’re holding onto his shoulders. “Does it feel good?” You kiss him right after you ask, his tongue going to the top of your mouth, sliding in wet and deliciously, it’s everything you’ve waited for. He hums into you as a response. You feel his dick twitch as your pussy grips on him tighter.

You feel like you both could be close until he starts kissing you more fiercely. His tongue only slipping in slightly as he pecks your lips, he bites down slightly, then kissing you deeply again. Then he turns you over. You’re under him now. His hands go right by your ears, flat on the ground and he thrusts into you. Hard. It almost hurts, you can’t lie. He’s grunting, short and quick, but his rasp, and his hair flying as he quickens the pace, and the fact that pain is slowly turning into pleasure… you’re fine with it. If this is what he needs, you’re fine with it.

His next grunt is almost a yell, it’s like a battle cry. He’s angry and you know it. You hold onto his flex arms tenderly, caressing him, silently telling him you’re there, but you allow him to continue.

His movements are faster now. More irate. His body comes closer to yours, but his movements do not stop their force. His thrusts feels like poundings, you feel like the floor is moving, maybe the boat is rocking, the bags jump with it.

He looks at your screwed shut eyes as one of his hands comes to touch your chest. Trailing your breast, then to the bottom of your stomach, staying there, pressing down, feeling himself inside of you has he shoves himself up and in, he’s deep, so deep. “Mmm,” You’re whining now, “-uuh.” It makes his eyes lighten, he’s humming, low and gruff and continuous, stuttering into you, eyes open waiting to see you come so then he can. It’s right there for him, but he wants to see you, he needs it.

Your moan mixes into a whine, “Daryl please,” you beg, “Daryl please- it’s- it’s too much, it hurts,” it makes him go even faster, and he can’t help himself as he comes in you first, sighing as he does so, but it’s exactly what you need to come undone yourself.

You grab the back of his neck, holding it close to you as you squeeze your arms around him and he does the same to your waist.

You both try to calm your breaths, “Never leave me again,” you say into his ear, breathing roughly. “Please.”

“Never.” He looks at you right in the eye when repeats it, “Never.” He wipes the tears from your face as you both nod, affirming a new promise to each other. “We’ll win. Together.”

After laying for a few moments, just looking at each other, he goes to the bathroom to find a washcloth, warming it with water, helping you clean up. He takes your hand so you can start doing it yourself and he kisses your forehead before he starts to get dressed. “I’ll be back.”

Soon enough, you hear the engine in the front start to rev up. He got it to work.

“You can drive a boat?”

“Gonna learn.” He turns to you, pulling you in front resting your hands on the wheel while he stands behind, his arms over your own. “We both are.”

[luvbugs-blog]

one bed? - featuring the aot boys

today, we have: jean, bertholdt, and reiner

in which: there's only one bed? lmao have fun! note that in reiner's part, you are a warrior that escaped back to marley with reiner after the shiganshina arc.

warnings: none. i have extreme paranoia when it comes to me writing smut, so you will not see some from me until i get better (i am literally touch-starved, so i feel like anything i write will be cringe)!

author's note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know what to write next. i'm literally out of ideas. either in the comments, or in my messages. i will appreciate ANYTHING.

jean

"alright everyone," hange says, "go to your respective rooms. we'll meet back up in the morning and explore some more!" she turns to leave with onyankopon and levi who were staying in a nearby hotel as to not draw too much attention.

you look around for jean, sasha, and connie who were also staying in this hotel with you. as soon as you went to grab sasha to room with, connie swooped in, and the two were so excited that they were going to have a "sleepover". you heave a small sigh.

"don't sound too disappointed." jean says, giving you a small smile. "sad you're stuck with me tonight?"

"never." you say, bumping your shoulder with his. "it will just be much harder to keep an eye on those two." jean's smile slowly slides off his face.

"oh yeah." not much you can do about it now. you grab jean's hand and pull him to go find your room.

"this is actually so interesting, being in marley. i can't believe they have actual cars!" you say excitedly, smiling while looking out the window. you couldn't believe how advanced this place is.

"you sound like hange now! keep it down before your dumbass gets us caught." you give jean a little smack.

"oh shut up." the two of you finally reach the room, and as jean opens the door, he stops halfway into the room.

"hey! get out of my way, horse-face!" jean turns to look at you, his face a little red.

"i think they gave us the wrong room." confused, you look around jean to see there is only one bed in the entire room.

"oh." the thought of spending the night with your best friend in the same bed also made you a little pink. much to your relief, jean didn't see because he was too busy hurrying to use the bathroom. in reality, he was trying to calm himself down, but you didn't know that.

your stomach was swirling as jean finally came out of the bathroom, his face wet, like he had washed it. you had to look away. of course you were nervous. you've had a crush on the man for quite a while now. but you'd rather die than admit that.

an awkward, uncomfortable silence blanketed the room. until jean spoke up. "I honestly think we should just share it. it's pretty big. and we've grown up together. it won't be awkward."

that's a relief. "yeah. as long as your big horse feet won't kick me in the middle of the night."

"hey! my feet are normal shaped!" you giggle, the previous tension gone. "yeah yeah."

the two of you chat a little bit before calling it a night. you tuck yourself under the covers, turning your back to jean. "i hope you don't snore."

"guess you'll find out tonight." the two of you try sleeping, and for a few hours, it was successful. until the room got incredibly cold. you shuffle closer to jean, but it wasn't helping all that much. you turn around, facing jean, who looked fast asleep.

"hey." silence. "hey!" nothing. so you start poking his face, and he flinches. "what?" now you're embarrassed.

"nevermind."

"oh no. you didn’t wake me up for nothing." he pokes your face. "what do you want?"

"can you hold me?"

"what?!"

"i'm cold!"

"oh. alright then, come here."

"really?"

"yes, y/n. now hurry up." so you weasel your way into his arms, sinking into his chest. he is so warm.

and in the morning, when he wakes up before you, he'll let you sleep, with your leg around his waist and his arms around you. maybe he will finally work up the courage to ask you out.

bertholdt

you were shaken. of course you were, you were kidnapped. the last thing you remember is walking away with armin on the wall, and you could faintly hear hange talking to moblit about titans that could dig. but you wake up on a tree, in the forest which was surrounded by titans. you see ymir awake, scowling at two men up on higher trees. is that eren over there? you have to blink because it's so bright, but when it finally comes into focus, you realize it's reiner and bertholdt. oh yeah. the traitors. you start breathing heavily, thinking about how it's your lover up there. ymir tries to calm you down, her eyes wide, but it doesn't work. how could he do this to you. was everything fake? were your friends still alive. why were you here? you start feeling faint, and feel hot tears pooling at your eyes. you faintly hear the screeching of odm gear coming closer, and you hear bertholdt talking to ymir, but it's too late, and you pass out once again.

when you awaken a second time, it's night. you have to adjust your eyes to try to figure out where you are. but all you see are stars. you're on the wall. you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"y/n?" you turn your head without moving your body and see him. bertholdt, who's eyes are red and swollen. you reach your hand up to hold his face but then think better of it. you let your hand fall.

"i'm so sorry. y/n, i'm so sor-"

"bertholdt!" you recognize reiner's voice and lift your body up, with his hand on your back. you shove his hand away, ignoring the hurt look on his face. you see reiner and ymir coming your way. while bertholdt and reiner whisper to each other, ymir comes to check on you.

"are you alright?" you shrug. which earns a sad smirk from ymir. shortly after, bertholdt returns to kneeling next to you, but not saying anything. after a while, you find your voice.

you turn your head to bertholdt and ask, "how did i get here?" he flinches at your strained tone, but softly explains what happened while reiner and ymir set up sleeping bags they found in the district below. you also find out the truth about bertholdt's background. about him being from marley, his mission, why he decided to become a warrior. he explained about his sick father and the oppression he received just because he was eldian.

and suddenly, your heart was conflicted. there was life outside of the walls. but they weren't free. they had the same blood you did, and they were being tortured for it. but they killed so many innocent people from inside the walls. those people didn't know what they were dying for. they didn't deserve to die. you wanted to yell and scream at him, but you also wanted to comfort him. so you cried. you cried and cried and fell into him because you were weak, and despite hating him for all he had done, you loved him. and he held you as you cried, and eventually he started crying with you. so the two of you cried until there were no tears left. in the silence left behind, you whispered to him, "take me with you. take me home with you." too weak to argue, he agreed. he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and wiped away your tears.

"ok."

what felt like hours later, reiner came to drop off the sleeping bag.

"i'm sorry, but we could only find three." while bertholdt starting insisting you take it, you just stand up and take the sleeping back from reiner, giving the man a hug, which surprised him.

"thank you. one is enough. we can share." and so you did.

you held onto his long ass body and just held each other, oozing comfort the both of you needed.

reiner

while porco and pieck were mocking him from behind, you were at his side, giggling at his little pout. you intertwined your arm with his and put your head on his shoulder, causing the two goons to laugh and mock even more. but the two of you didn't care. you guys were considered pretty close before, but after returning from paradise, the two of you were inseparable. the two of you walked along the festival, reiner occasionally having to stop to pay for gabi and the others, but never separating from you.

"oh, reiner!" pieck says, "don't forget about the meeting we have tomorrow." the both of you sigh.

"we haven't forgotten pieck," he replies. you detach yourself from reiner when you see porco beckoning to you. while reiner and pieck chatted, you were able to talk a bit with porco. the two of you wandered for a bit before reiner came to pull you away, looking a bit jealous, which porco wouldn't let him live down.

the two of you follow the children around until they get too tired and full from all the festival food. while reiner is dragging gabi around, the two of you talk about the trek you will have to make for the meeting.

"we should rent a hotel room. that way we won't have to get up too early tomorrow to travel."

"good idea!" so after dropping off the children at their respective homes, the two of you hitch a ride to the hotel nearest to HQ where the meeting was taking place. when the two of you check in, you only ask for one room, but two separate beds.

however, when the two of you went to go to sleep, there was only one bed. although, it didn't bother you two that much, as the two of you often slept over together.

so when it was time for bed, the two of you crawled in together, immediately cuddling together. you lay your head on his chest and he holds you. this was how you often found comfort when the two of you first got back from the island, often crying about bertholdt, annie, and the comrades you considered friends. and the two of you haven't stopped this little routine, even years later.

but this time felt a little different. reiner was holding you more tightly than usual. but you couldn't bring yourself to ask why because you were too tired. as you were falling asleep, you hear him whisper, "I love you." not that you would know this, but he had been telling you this for a long time when you were sleeping. so it quite surprise to him when you opened your eyes and smiled.

"I love you too." you slowly press a kiss to his lips and he graciously returns it.

author's note (again): will there be a part two? idk yet. let me know if y'all want one in the comments section. (and i know you saw my author's note up top. *suspicious side eye* you better tell me what to write next)

[zombiec]

After party | Jean Kirstein

(Jean calls reader his boyfriend but other than that readers gender isn’t specified)(reader has a dick ofc>o<!!!)

Hockey player reader x Jean

Synopsis ☆: Jean is jealous of you and Erens relationship . He handles his jealousy in a different type of way.

Warning: possessive Jean, Eren slander a lil bit, breeding kink a little, weed>.<!!!, power bottom Jean, mating press, Jeans ass is referred to as boy pussy.

a/n: this is kinda long? Also can males squirt🤔🤔🤔idk but I made him so😹😹

You were so mad. One of the players from the other team unnecessarily shoved you really hard, causing you to punch him as best as you could through the helmet. Somehow you were the one who was sent out. You slammed open the penalty bench box and threw your hockey stick on the floor. Taking off your helmet and your gloves because it was hot as fuck and you were sweating your ass off. You heard the door to the penalty box open but you didn’t look towards it.

“Hey” it was Sasha . You didn’t respond back because you knew why she was here. “Come on you and Jean need to make up” Earlier you two got into a fight. You and Jean were standing by your car talking, when Eren came over to ask you something. He whispered something in your ear and you chuckled and said “yeah I gotchu” he hugged you then walked off. You turned towards Jean who was glaring at you with his arms crossed. You looked at him confused. Jean hated that look on your face you looked so stupid.

Jean started walking away, but you were quick to grab him by his wrist. “Where you going” “I’m going to find my seat. go hang out with your boyfriend” he replied. ‘What’ you thought. What is he talking about. You don’t know why but Jean always gets angry whenever you interact with Eren, it’s so annoying to you . “What’re you talking about Jean” you said to him and he shivered at the way you said his name. “I said go talk to your boyfriend, eren” “what the fuck are you on about, Whyre you always mad when eren talks to me” you said and looked at Jean with a frown.

“I’m not fucking mad I don’t even care. He obviously likes you though” you look at Jean dumbfounded. Like you haven’t proved to him over and over that you want to be with him and only him. He’s so stupid and it’s making you angry. You and Jean always flirt and kiss. A lot. It’s never passed that point though . You two haven’t tried a relationship yet because you’re scared if it ends out bad, then you’ll lose ypur best friend.

“Why does that matter?” Jean looks at you with his arms folded and a frown on his face. “It matters because you like to stick your dick in anything that walks” now it was your turn to frown. Everyone on campus believes you’re a play boy, but you’re not. you bailed on what was supposed to be a one night stand, she got mad and all of a sudden you’re the campus thot. A ‘jock’ who just likes getting their dick wet. It’s not true and Jean knows that, so why would he use that against you.

“Maybe I will go fuck him” you said and shouldered him while you were walking past. This brings us back to the present. ”why would I do that” you spoke to sasha. “Because you guys are supposed to end up together. come onnnn he didn’t mean it he was jealous” You rolled your eyes “he’s always jealous” before sasha could say anything else you were being called back into the game. “I’ll see you later Sasha” you said and grabbed your things and went back into the rink.

With 2 minutes left on the clock and the score 12 - 12 it was up to you and your team mates to make this last shot. You currently had the puck. Dribbling it towards the goal but then you get crowded by 2 big ass men from the other team, so you pass to Connie who happened to be on the other side of you who was wide open. He dribbles it closer to the goal and tries to score but it gets blocked by the goal keeper. The goal keeper tried to pass it to one of his teammates but you blocked it just in time and passed it to Connie. Connie was then bombarded by the opposite team and passed it back to you. You saw a small opening and took your shot. You made it. YOU FUCKING MADE IT. The buzzer rang loud and you looked at the score board. 13-12. You won. Your team won championships.

The crowd erupted in cheer and your team came and lifted you up into the air. Everyone was cheering and hugging. I was so happy we finally made it to championships. Connie walked up to you and dabbed you up.” Hey nice shot!!” You grinned “Thanks gang” “Are you going to Erens party?” You raised your eyebrow. “His mom is letting him throw a party” Connie chuckled “hell nah she’s on vacation” ‘oh boy’ “yeah I’ll go” “alright I’ll see you there” Connie said and walked away.

You walked into the locker room to go change so you can start heading to Erens party. Meanwhile with Jean. “DID YOU SEE THAT GOAL UGH THEYRE SO GOOD” sasha was geeking right next to me, she was so loud. “Yes I saw sasha” I said a little exasperated. I’m still upset me and my boyfriend got into a fight. They aren’t really my boyfriend but I call them that because theyre mine. I didn’t mean to call them a slut, but like they’re always talking to Eren, and I know eren wants them he’s literally told me so. I saw my boyfriend walk out the locker rooms and guess who I saw walking up to my boyfriend… Erens desperate ass. He asked them something and I saw my boyfriend nod and they walked off.

….WHAT THE FUCK. He’s doing this on purpose to piss me off I swear he is. Suddenly I was pulled out of my thoughts when Sasha tapped me. “Do you wanna go to Erens party?” Sasha knows I hate eren so why would she ask me that. “Your boyfriend’s gonna be there” Connie said popping out of nowhere. “Really? He hates parties” Connie shrugged. “Fine I’ll go”

Back with you. You were currently driving eren to his house because he asked for a ride. The car was blasting with music until it was turned down. “I got a question” eren suddenly piqued up. “Yes?” “Are you and Jean dating” you laughed. “No why?” “Because he’s always glaring at me and I’ve seen you two kissing before like a lot to be honest” “he’s just jealous because he thinks you like me.” “Hell no” ‘well damn’ you thought. “Oh no not like that I’m dating mikasa.” Your mouth dropped. “REALLY?!?” “Yes Whyre you so surprised” “I don’t know I would’ve never guessed.” “The fuck is that supposed to mean” you winced. “Oh look your house!”

You parked infront of his house and you both went in. There were already a whole bunch of people here. “How’d they get to your house before you” “mikasa probably let them in.” You sighed. You honestly hated parties you can’t even lie. You just wanted to come so you could get high to be honest. Looking to your left you see Reiner, Annie, and bertholt sitting on the L shaped couch. They were smoking, bingo! “Hey Reiner” you smirked at him. You can’t even lie you think hes sexy as fuck. “Hey come here” you walked over and sat down next to him.

“Let me get a hit” he passed the blunt to you. You took a few hits then passed it to Annie. You’re a lightweight so it doesn’t take a lot for you to get high. A few minutes later and you were out of it. You were currently laying on reiners lap. His thick warm thighs that your face was buried in, you were silently geeking because oh my god. “Who wants to play spin the bottle!” You heard Sasha say from the living room. You piqued up and turned to Reiner “thanks for letting me rest here imma go play” “anytime” Reiner said smirking. You smacked his thigh just to see it jiggle then walked off. Unknowing of the blush that was left on his face.

You saw the circle forming and was looking for a place to sit. You found a spot but it was next to the one and only Jean. ‘When did he get here’ you hope he didn’t see you on reiners lap or that’s another thing he’s gonna tweak out about. The circle consisted of Armin , Mikasa, Annie, Eren, Connie, Sasha, Jean, a few random people you didn’t know, and then finally you. You sat next to Jean and the game begun. “Who wants to start.” Connie perked up “I’ll go” Connie spun the bottle and it landed on Annie. People oou’d and Connie leaned over the circle pecking Annie on the lips.

Next was Annie’s turn, she spun the bottle and it landed on you. You chuckled. Annie rolled her eyes and leaned over pecking your cheek. Sasha groaned “LAMEE.” “Shut up Sasha” mikasa told her, shutting her right up. It was your turn now. Spinning the bottle it starts to slow down..it stopped directly on Eren. Everybody in the circle got quiet. They know Jean doesn’t fuck with Eren and they know you and Jean are a thing. Suddenly Jean turned the bottle towards himself. Eren spoke up “that’s not how the game works” “I don’t give a fuck” Jean said and turned towards you.

He put his hand behind your head and aggressively pushed you towards him forcing you two to kiss. You can’t even lie that shit was sexy as fuck. You love when Jean gets possessive. Jean got more into the kiss and climbed into your lap. He tried to grind into you but you gripped his waist to stop him. “What the fuck are you trying to do? Are you trying to ride me infront of everybody” you whispered so only he could hear. “Fuck yes” he responded. You immediately picked him up by his thighs. “We’re using one of your guest rooms” you said to Eren and walked off. “take me to Erens room and fuck me in there.” “No shut up” Jean whined and you took him into an empty room.

When you walked in you put Jean down. “What is up with you today?” Jean huffed. He didn’t say anything because you should know why he’s acting up. “Hello? I’m talking to you” you grabbed him by his neck tilting his head up by his chin. “Nothing” you rolled your eyes “it’s obviously something” now it was his turn to roll his eyes. Why don’t you get it. Whyre you so stupid. He gets so jealous when he sees you with Eren or literally anyone. He can’t help that you’re sexy as fuck and everyone wants you. He saw you on reiners lap and he was so mad. Just thinking about it is pissing him off so bad.

Looking up at you Jean glared. You raised your brow “What?” “I saw you with Reiner” ‘shit’ you took your hand off his neck “why must you make me jealous all the time” Jean spoke walking making you walk backwards. “Why must you look so fucking good all the damn time” you fell back onto the bed that was in the middle of the room. Jean sat right ontop of your crotch, where you just so happen to be hard already. You were hard since he kissed you during spin the bottle. “Why must you drive me insane” he said gripping your collar. “Jean-“ “shut the fuck up I’m gonna show you who this dick belongs to” Jean says grinding on your dick through the jeans you were wearing.

You groaned and Jean pulled you into a kiss. The kiss was aggressive and was filled with lust. Jean dragged his hand down to the waist band of your pants. He wanted them off, he started pulling them off then you kicked off the rest. What’s left was your boxers, you don’t even have your boxers off and he could see how big you were. God he wanted it so bad he wanted you to make him a mother, no he didn’t want it he needed it. He looked up at you and you were already looking down at him with a smirk on your face.

“You wanted it so bad so take it” oh he will. He hurried to take off his shorts and his boxers. He took your hand and sucked on two of your fingers while looking at you. The way he was looking at you with lidded eyes and the way his tongue swirled around your fingers almost had you cumming in your boxers. When he felt it was good enough he took your fingers and guided it to his ass. You put your fingers in his hole and immediately thrusted them up into him. He moaned and threw his arms around your neck.

He was moaning and placing sloppy kisses on your neck. You added another finger in him trying to stretch his hole. “Just put it in already please” you grabbed Jean by his hair and kissed his lips. He moaned into the kiss grinding harder on your fingers. You pulled your fingers out his ass making him whine and making his hole close around nothing. Ignoring his sounds you guided your dick into his hole.

Jean gasped so loud. He unwrapped his arms from your neck and put his hands on your shoulders. ‘Fuckkkkk’ Jean thought. You were so fucking big you were stretching him so damn wide. He’s seen your dick before you two have sent pictures to each other but he never thought it would feel this fucking good. Jean sunk lower onto your dick until it was fully inside him. Your hands went on his thighs trying to guide him but he smacked your hand away. “I t-told you I’m going to show you this dick belongs to me” he said and did a little practice bounce you groaned and gripped the blankets beneath you.

You would just ignore him, grab his waist and fuck up into him but you could tell he was desperate to prove something to you. He wanted to prove that you belong to him and only him..and you were going to let him. “Pay attention to me” Jean whined. You looked at him and smirked. He started to bounce on your dick going up and down. He was going too slow for you. “Mmm~ go faster baby” Jean bounced harder and faster on you making him let out loud ass moans.

“Mmph~ feels so good” you heard him whisper huskily in your ear. You started to thrust up into him feeling his warm walls envelope your dick got you going crazy. Jean moves his hips in circles and you’ve had enough. You grab Jean by his thighs and fuck up into him. “FUCKK~” he yells. “You’re moving too slow for me baby we both know you own this dick let me show you who owns this boy pussy” you said and turned Jean around so he was on all fours. Jean wanted to be in control but fuck the sound of you owning his ass sounds so good and the fact you called it a boy pussy has him ready to be bred.

You grabbed Jean by his waist and started to fuck him. The sight of his hole swallowing your cock has you ready to cum. You bend down to jeans ear “you’ll never get fucked good like this” Jean moaned and matched the pace you were going at while fucking back into you. “I-im gonna cum” you slapped his ass and he came with a loud moan. But you weren’t done yet.

You turn Jean around so that he’s in a mating press. You put his legs up on your shoulders. “W-wait I just ca~ AH” you thrusted into him not caring about what he had to say. You pinned his hands next to his head and looked him straight in the eyes. He was so pretty his face was red and he had a flustered look on his face. His hair was splayed on the bed and he was breathing hard. “You’re so gorgeous” you say while moving some of his hair out of his face. Jean blushed hard at the comment and it drove him closer to his second orgasm.

You pulled out of Jean so only your tip was inside of him, then slowly you put your dick inside him. You hit something inside of Jean which you guessed was his g spot by the way he gasped. “FUCKKKKK RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE” he tried to pull you impossibly closer scratching at your back. You thrusted into him hitting his prostate over and over driving him crazy. Jean felt a building up sensation and he couldn’t hold it in anymore “IM GONNA CUMM IM GONNA CUM” “cum for me baby” Jeans body spasms and his release splashes on your face.

It’s silent for a few moments before Jean hears you chuckling. He whines and slaps your shoulder. “Did you just squirt” Jean covers his face and turns away from you. “Shut upp.” You pull out of Jean slowly causing a small moan to come out of him. You get up to get towels so that you could clean both of you up. You go into the bathroom that’s connected with the room and get a few towels because you guys made quite a mess. You come back to Jean and see he’s almost fallen asleep poor baby must be exhausted. You wipe him and yourself down then put the towels in the garbage because who’s going to reuse those. You lay down next to Jean and turn off the light.

Jean snuggles up with you. “Will you be my boyfriend” you heard him say quietly. “Ofcourse” you said and kissed his forehead. He looked up at you “you missed” you chuckle and kiss his lips. You were the happiest person right now and no one could ruin that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Posted this on the wrong account at first whoops!!

Anyway guys hope you enjoyed >.<!!!

Next is Naoya x reader 😾😾

[yikimiki]

Head empty just extremely horny and pervert eren with an oblivious, sunshine reader fucking for the first time <3

naur because I love a good corruption/Virgin killer concept 🥺♥️ can you imagine… you’re this sheltered and innocent girl moving away from your small town to go to college for the first time, and you have no idea what to expect. You’re a little scared when you go to parties and you can’t stay for long, everyone is so loud and extra that you take a long time to get used to it. You manage to make good friends because of your extroverted and open personality, but the gap of Real World Experiences is obvious to anyone who gets close to you.

Most friends, like Sasha and Mikasa, are very understanding and slowly want to show you the world in a non-threatening way. But then you meet Eren, mikasa’s step brother, and your world turns upside down.

Your crush couldn’t be more clear — your cheeks get warm and you stutter every time he’s around, playing with your fingers and refusing to meet eye contact. Eren thinks it’s cute and instantly gets interested in you. But not interested in the way in the innocent, child-like way you’re used to — Eren is predatory, and he can tell when someone hasn’t had a good taste of pleasure before. He sees you with perverted lenses, maps the curve of your perky ass and the bouncing of your breasts as you walk around, oblivious.

It’s not long until Eren is fisting his cock every time he sees you, running to the nearest bathroom so he can get rid of his aching boner. You just don’t know how fucking hot you are — those little skirts, those tank tops that make your tits spill out. It’s like you’re begging for him to fill you up with his cum. It’s like you’re trying to play innocent until he bends you over the kitchen table and fucks the brat out of you.

He has to convince Mikasa to take you to the party that Connie is hosting — she falls for his “it’ll be good for her” trap easier than he had expected. Then it’s on. Then, it’s Saturday night and your small hands are pushing that little black dress down your thighs, and Eren can’t think of anything else but the way you need to be fucked by him until the night is over.

You don’t drink, because you never do, but he wants you sober for this, so it doesn’t matter. Eren is smooth and velvety with his words, guiding you along until he’s pushing you against the wall and his tongue unceremoniously enters your mouth. His cock aches from the way you wince and moan against his lips, hands holding onto his jacket as his own, larger ones, explore the plump flesh of your ass. You whine about how everyone can see you two, but Eren doesn’t care. Your butt is half-exposed in the middle of the party and your nipples are poking through your mini dress, but you can only focus on the way that his hard cock presses against the curve of your hips, throbbing in need.

You lay down on that shitty mattress with Eren above you, not even sure that the bedroom door was closed, and you can only think about how you would’ve never done this a month ago. But then his big cock is teasing your entrance and you’re almost crying, sobbing about how much you want to be filled up. Eren only smirks, but cannot tease you further — he’s embarrassed he won’t last long because of how long he’s been waiting for this.

His cock enters you and you sob, nails digging onto his shoulders at the sharp pain. Eren shushes you, kisses your lips, and starts moving his hips. It’s not long until that pain starts melting away and you’re moaning his name, completely overwhelmed at the way he fills you up. And, of course, eren is no different — this is much, much better than he had imagined. This feels like heaven and hell combined, that soaked, wet pussy of yours clenching around his cock until he’s cumming, grunting and fucking the soul out of you. And you’re so pretty, so ruined, that he’s almost proud of it.

[satorutini]

sunday overcast - eren yeager

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

summary: After ruining your potential dream relationship - and spring break plans - with Jean, you retreat to your hometown over break for the first time in years to lick your wounds. But you can mope around for only so long when you're strapped for cash. Luckily, the manager at your usual summer gig has an unconventional shift you can fill on short notice. The only issue - the guy you hooked up with and ghosted last winter is scheduled to work the same shift. Even worse, he's your only ride home.

rating: explicit

wc: 7.8k

read on ao3 | series nav

the chili's au/scummy line cook eren saga continues

“Hey,” you murmur, low and warm in your throat, just barely heard above the rain. “You wanna cheer me up?”

Eren really isn’t sure how the both of you ended up in this situation. 

Don’t get him wrong - he had been imagining your return since the day you left. Or rather, the day he found out you left, through Sasha, who had unceremoniously handed the sweater he loaned you over to him by the next dinner shift they worked together. By then, the winter holidays had passed and you were well on your way back to your university.

At first, he figured that in time, you would text him. Your last encounter was intense, and you could hardly look in his direction the whole drive to your apartment. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out first - something told him it’d make things worse before it made anything better. He couldn’t be the only one stuck on that night. Something had to be said, right?

But right now, somehow, you’re reclining in his backseat, studying him with that alluring, low-lidded gaze that pierces through the darkness of his car. And despite all the steps it took to get to this moment, nothing between the two of you has really been properly addressed yet.  

It’s this gnawing thought that causes Eren to hesitate at your invitation. Frustration burns through him at the sight of you. Wet hair pasted to the sides of your flush cheeks. Soaked polo rucked up your stomach, the bare skin shining with rainwater what little light gleans inside from the streetlights. The two of you, alone in Eren’s worn-out sedan, camped out in the middle of Pepper’s vacant parking lot, sporting matching red eyes. He observes you, observing him pretending to mull over your question. Silently pleading with him to blur the lines of whatever this was quickly devolving into just a little bit more. Just one more time. 

He wonders if you’ll back down, chicken out, if he’s quiet for long enough.

“Eren,” you call for him again and he swallows, throat feeling dry and thick. There it is again. That lofty tone you often use when he fucks up an order or moves a little too slow. Sweet, pitiful, and disdainful all at once. 

A joint smolders in his fingers, long forgotten after dodging to avoid the flailing mass of limbs and appendages that was your poor attempt at wiggling into the back from the passenger seat. A pleasant, lethargic fog creeps at the edges of his consciousness. Your next words seem to float through the car to bless his ears, rolling around in his mind with a warm buzz that has him leaning out of his seat before you’re even finished speaking. 

“Come make me feel good.”

--

New Year’s Day came and went, and Eren figured you’d at least reach out before you left your humble hometown for the start of your last spring semester in the big city. His phone would vibrate, and he would flip it, hoping he was masking his anticipation - and then later, disappointment - well enough at the possibility of you calling. His fingers would idle on your chat messages, frowning when he had to scroll farther and farther as he accumulated others—hoping one day to catch even just those three torturous, winking dots. Any sign that you were thinking of him as much as his thoughts turned to you.

This newfound hobby, waiting for you to return, was a nuisance in every sense of the word. You had left like you had every spring, and you would return like you had every summer. This careful, meticulous dance around your academic schedule that dictated your time back home - when you would work, how long you would stay, and who you would come to see. It was the way it had always been, for the past handful of years at least. Even if you were graduating this year, you had to come back - it was the natural order of things, in Eren’s world. 

What Eren hadn’t been anticipating was that you would break that routine.

He wouldn’t really consider himself a creature of habit beyond smoking, but there were people who he considered had specific roles in his everyday life. Connie was his work partner-in-crime and designated smoke buddy. Armin was his rock and moral compass. Levi was a hardass dictator moonlighting as a shift supervisor. And you were the uptight waitress girl from work who liked to boss him around and get on his ass just because you had a college degree and he didn’t.

Realistically, nothing had really shifted too far from the norm in his day-to-day. You had always been just coworkers. Now you were just a coworker whom he had eaten out from the back one time.

Eren had been working at Pepper’s for a long time. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had fucked around with one of his coworkers - that was part of the inevitable circle of life in the restaurant service industry. Work a double shift? Check. Train a newbie? Check. Fuck that one coworker who laughs a little too hard at your jokes? Check.

But then he had practically corned you at Sasha’s ugly sweater party last year, and suddenly that reality had been forced to shift.

It was the worst at work. He would receive an order he found stupid - who the fuck puts ranch on their spaghetti? - and itch to somehow poke fun at you about it. Connie would introduce the dinner crew to new music when the restaurant was closed, Levi had retired into the office for the night, and Eren would catch himself considering which tracks you would find funny and which ones you’d probably look up and save for yourself. 

Standing over the hot grill, his thoughts would drift, and Eren would imagine you marching through the swinging double doors into the kitchen, busybodied and frazzled as usual, sticking your neck out under the heat lamps like Erwin hasn't already admonished you for doing before, all so Eren can more clearly hear you chide him for half-assing an appetizer. It’s not hard to envision you -  tense,  jaw clenched, out of breath, flush, and slightly sweaty. Top buttons of your uniform’s polo are undone so he can glimpse the expanse of your collarbones and a bit of your chest when you lean over the counter to glare at him like you could kill him with your thoughts alone. Like you hadn’t ghosted him for months.

And then Connie would hip check him, wordlessly jarring Eren back into focus as another medium-well steak overcooked beneath his spatula.

--

Never in his right mind, no matter how often he replayed that fateful night with you in his head, no matter how frequently his thoughts drifted back to that cramped bathroom, the unrestrained feeling of your hands in his hair, the rough material of your knit sweater scrunched between his fingers as he fit himself between your thighs, the taste - 

Never in his right mind would he have imagined you sitting in his car, smoothing your splayed hands over the expanse of his leather backseat, drenched to the bone yet offering him a small mirthful, inviting smile despite the chill still in the air as you lean back and make yourself comfortable enough to request, “Come make me feel good.”

Fortunately for Eren, when it came to you, his train of thought had been anything but sound of mind in recent weeks.

Now, his hands are full of you. Large palms slip and slide under your wet top as he explores your back, your waist, and your arms,  crushing his mouth to yours.

His hand cups your cheek, a gentle guide in contrast to the hungry exploration of his mouth against yours. Urgent fingers slide into your hair as you rake back his own from his face, a strand getting caught in the corner of his lip when you kiss him once, twice. His slides across your lower lip invitingly, and you sigh into the kiss. Let him pry your mouth open with his own. He tastes like smoke and mints. The smell of deep fryer grease clings to his hair.

When Eren turns to pepper kisses down the soft skin of your neck and collarbones, he thinks he tastes salt. Time melts away, the only constant is the frantic rhythm of your breaths and the soft moans that escape your lips. You clutch the loose knot of his hair, guide him back towards you. Your foreheads rest against each other, chests heaving.

Eren’s gaze is low and warm as he takes in your bruised lips, and the ruddiness of your cheeks. HIs fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips.  You shift in his lap under the intensity of his stare, causing you both to groan, quickly reminded of your position. Eren had stepped out into the rain only to shove his way into the backseat and situate you onto his lap. Despite your layers of damp denim and cotton, you can feel him growing warm and solid beneath you.

“Is that for me?” you grind down against his hips. Grinning, teasing. He stutters upwards, gripping your waist like a lifeline. 

You think he looks so pretty like this, flustered, frowning, and breathless beneath you, like you’re moving quicker than he can catch up. He wraps one arm around your waist, using his free hand to wrench the collar of your polo aside and sink his teeth into the soft juncture of your neck in retaliation. You jolt and wriggle in his hold but Eren keeps you pressed against him, vengeful.

“So full of yourself,” he mutters, pressing a wet kiss where there is surely now a bruise. “Gotta get you full of me instead.”

You sputter and tell him to shut up, but let him take off your shirt anyway.

--

The thunderstorm that rolled through your small town this morning was relentless. Eren had figured the day would be wet and dreary when it began drizzling on his way to the restaurant, the headlights on his hooptie struggling to penetrate through the early morning fog. But throughout the morning, whenever Eren got a chance to glance out of the to-go order window, it was evident that it would only grow worse. 

He had already been dreading this shift all month. He had been slotted to come in on a Sunday - the one day of the week Pepper’s was closed - to deep clean the kitchen and take inventory of the walk-in fridge. This particular shift was only scheduled once a month, always on a Sunday morning, and rotated between him and Connie. The whole ordeal was a long-winded chore but thanks to Levi, the staff hierarchy was a pretty balanced ecosystem. Typically, one other waitress or front-of-house staff would be assigned randomly to help them. That way, none of the kitchen staff could claim they carried the brunt of the work.

(Even if they did.)

However, this Sunday morning was different. As he peered through the to-go order window, the storm's persistence mirrored the internal tempest he felt. The reason? Your return to staff is scheduled for this very shift. 

Eren’s heart nearly fell out of his ass upon first glance at the schedule. He asked Levi if it was a typo. 

“It’s spring break,” his manager deadpanned, as though this weren’t the first time you were picking up a shift in the middle of the semester. The linecook could only nod, tight-lipped. Historically, you had only worked over the summers and winters, reserving the few days of spring break for actual vacation time. Eren had figured he would have at least another month or two before you would have to confront each other, once he concluded that you wouldn’t reach out on your own.

Deep cleaning duty was always a menial and tedious task, but Eren working in enjoyed the silence of the usually chaotic kitchen. Any other Sunday, he would tie back his hair, don his apron, and steal Connie’s Bluetooth speaker from above the dishwashing sink. He’d blast his music over the chunky gurgle of the draining deep fryers, over the spray of boiling sink water. Rock, maybe R&B - stuff that wasn’t typical “family-friendly dining hours” approved. Maybe smoke a little before he came in, if he had been smart enough to think to roll something the night before.

 It was easy to lose himself in the busy work. Sometimes he would exchange pleasantries with accompanying wait staff if they actually decided not to call out at the last minute. Sasha, a night shift waitress and repeat offender, was never a morning person.

You were never much of a morning person either. It’s why he had been waiting all week for you to call out. He’d like to pretend like he wasn’t anticipating your return; like he hadn’t been taking extra time to pour over the schedule for weeks once winter turned to spring, noting where your name was absent among the list of people set to clock in after 4 pm. Like he hasn’t been bugging Sasha to share the barest hint about when you might be coming back. Or stalking your Twitter to see if you’ll post your graduation photos. But that wouldn’t be entirely true. 

Still, the shock of seeing you scheduled so soon before he’s prepared had haunted Eren throughout the week.

He insisted to himself he wasn’t nervous…Maybe a little anxious. The last time he had seen you, he had you bent over the toilet seat and crying into your arms at Sasha’s Christmas party before escorting you out in his garish holiday sweater. Blessedly - or dreadfully - he hadn’t heard from you since. 

When you had unloaded the sweater onto Sasha, she didn’t even bother to ask why you were in possession of it in the first place - practically the whole night crew played an incredulous audience to your walk of shame. Connie wouldn’t let him hear the end of it; Jean wouldn’t look him in the eyes at their last all-staff meeting.

 Eren can’t shake the feeling of expectation as he moves mechanically through the deep cleaning tasks, hoping you won’t call out and that the morning wouldn't be tainted by awkwardness. Hoping that you will call out and the both of you could remain in this silent, anxious limbo. He had been scheduled to clock in an hour before you. It crept by agonizingly slow. The memory of the holiday party, the garish holiday sweater, and the abrupt departure echo in his mind as he scrubs down the skillet of a grill.

--

You like that Eren never lets you think for too long. 

You’ll slow down when you kiss him, and he’ll stuff his fingers in your mouth instead. You’ll get too quiet for his liking, and he’ll seal his lips around your nipple. Suck bruises into the undersides of your breasts. Man handle you out of your uniform. Strip out of his own when you tug on his shirt.

You grind listlessly in his lap, trying to diminish as much space between you as possible, pressed up against his chest so that his arms are forced to wrap around you.  Eren’s hands brace your newly bare legs instead, sliding up your limbs with eager fingers.

You bite his ear and his fingers flex over your ass, pressing just very nearly where you want him most. “What do you want? Hm?” He’s so high, he doesn’t care that he’s whining. 

You suspect that he likes that you’re bossy if the glazed look in his eyes is anything to go by. He moves to kiss you and you duck with a grimace, jerking him back by the top knot of his hair. 

Your mouth is starting to feel like chalk, cotton mouth having set in. You’re afraid that you’ll croak if you try to speak.

--

As the first hour drags by, Eren’s unease grows. He’s starting to get antsy. Hadn’t even sparked up before starting to take inventory. Yet, when you finally enter the restaurant - rain-soaked, windswept, marching towards the cash register to clock in with a miserable look - the relief he feels is immediate. 

So you’re not avoiding him. At least, not completely. Not enough to turn down a paycheck.

You haven’t quite spotted him yet from outside the kitchen, where he’s braced over the grill, elbow-deep in grease and fry oil grime as he scrubs the insides with a sorry excuse for a sponge, but there’s no way you don’t hear his music. The sound of something like country rock leaks from behind the squeaky metal swinging doors that separate the kitchen - so lovingly tokened “the Heart of the House” - from the front. He feels rather than hears you tentatively push through those very same doors, following the source of the noise.  

Looking up to greet you, Eren falters at first. His mouth dries at the sight of you, all damp and disgruntled, shifting uncomfortably at the way your uniform polo sticks to your skin. How you managed to look pretty even in the drab waitressing attire and tacky, pepper-printed apron was beyond him.

When your eyes finally do meet his, there’s an unbearable pause as you gape at one another, both seemingly grappling for the right words. Eren waits for you to speak first  - it’s only fair, after months of radio silence, but he’s mostly just afraid of scaring you off.

You look as tense as he feels, shoulder locked up to your ears as you round the corner to face him.  Your lips part and Eren prays the next words that pass through them will ease the confusing ache in his chest.

“Since when’re you a Luke Bryan fan?”

Oh. Okay.

The disbelief on his face must be more blatant than he thinks because you begin to chuckle behind pursed lips, the corners of your eyes crinkled with mirth and mild embarrassment.

Deflecting. Okay. He can play along.

“Whaddya mean?” He offers an easy grin, leaning back from where he was bent over the lip of the deconstructed grill. Mentally imploring that stupid part of his brain that gets gooey when you’re around to shut the hell up. “You’re telling me this doesn’t make you wanna shake it for me, country girl?”

“Whatever,” you dismiss him not unkindly, but excuse yourself from him, all the same, to slip past him into the kitchen, grumbling something about “accidentally” placing his phone in this dishwasher if he doesn’t change the music to something else soon.

--

The way his hands look stretching out the back of your panties as he wets his digits along your soaked slit to finger you drives Eren a little insane. From where he’s got his head perched over your shoulder as you tuck into his own to hide little, shuddering sobs, he’s entranced by the sight of the fabric straining to make room for his knuckles as he dips inside where you’re molten and wanting. 

He wonders if you’ll let him keep this pair, if he asks. He’ll try not to think of it like a reward.

You sigh at the welcome intrusion, one arm slung around his neck, the other hand fisting the damp hemp of his jeans. Slowly, indulgently, he presses in. And out. 

“Yeah? Like that?”

He asks like he genuinely wants to know, not like he’s being cocky about how easily you’re falling apart for him, and it makes you clench a little harder around his fingers. Cry into his shoulder a little louder. You couldn’t even answer if you wanted to.

Eren refuses to be rushed. Takes his time to learn what makes you twitch and moan like you’re not camped out in the middle of a very public parking lot. You’ll have to ask him about his exhibitionist tendencies later.  He picks up the pace, cranes his neck to kiss you and you struggle to kiss him back. You’re sloppy, dragging your tongue across the edge of his chin. Spit bubbles at the corner of your lip, and he bites you there.

Distantly, you hear the rain pick up.

--

Despite your seemingly easygoing demeanor and non-confrontation, the weight of your last encounter and the unspoken acknowledgment of your absence is tangible for the entire shift. 

It hovers between the two of you like a dark cloud as you dance around each other throughout the morning, never offering more than a few words between tasks and weak smiles.

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. It should be enough that you even bothered to show up today, despite everything.

But Eren hates how polite you’re being with him. You give a little, cracking a joke here, offering a laugh there. But there’s none of your usual bite. Something passive in your gaze. Distant in an unsettling way he can’t comprehend. 

You ask him where the cleaning solution is and he directs you to a recently reorganized (courtesy of Levi) storage closet instead of asking why you’ve never texted him after all that transpired. You seek out his help breaking down empty bulk-order shipping boxes and he spends the better part of an hour snapping cardboard in half instead of interrogating you about Jean, if you told him about what happened as he suspects. If you regret it, like he’s assuming.

You don’t seem to not want to be around him. Rather the opposite -  you don’t want to leave him alone for too long. Asking him for help with things he knows you know - you’ve worked here nearly as long as he has. Purposefully keeping him at arm's length, but orbiting him all the same. He waits patiently for you to take that jump you seem to be building up to.

The morning wears on, the two of you working in relative silence. You pay Eren little mind, dutifully going about your tasks yet always hovering within eyesight, occasionally disappearing into the bathroom. You didn’t even reprimand him for the volume of his music like you normally would, or hound him for eating on the job when he makes a sandwich mid-shift. 

In his periphery, he watches as you fuss about the kitchen, flitting between tasks, and wonders if you were waiting for him to get angry with you first before broaching the subject. 

Eren takes his smoke break standing at the back door. When you notice his absence, he waits for you to admonish him for letting the draft in. Instead, you merely glower in disdain at the rainwater splattered on the tile floor, never meeting his eyes, before turning the corner with a dismissive, “ ‘S’long as you know you’re cleaning that up.”

The storm rages outside. An uneasy feeling festers inside Eren. It eats at his stomach as the end of his shift creeps near. Grits his teeth when you both clock out with little more than a half-assed, “See you later.”

Eren’s ears ring as he hangs his apron and collects his things from the back office. A notable lack of an umbrella, he fits a worn Yankees cap over his hair and fits what he can of his bun through the back, like it’ll do anything against the downpour standing between him and his car. 

Say something. He should say something.

He remembers how bold he was that fateful night; teasing you on the couch, ruining your sweater, and rushing to your aid in the bathroom. 

“What the hell is with you?” You had muttered, and Eren had wanted to gather your face in his palms and press his forehead to yours hard like it would make you feel all of the years’ worth of want and frustration he couldn’t put into words.

He had pressed his mouth to yours instead, intent on devouring you at the first warm, breathless sound you made. He had always been better at communicating like this.

Say something.

Eren meanders back towards the front of the restaurant, ready to lock up. To his surprise, you haven’t rushed out to greet your ride. Your lack of car ownership had been an amazing feat to watch you work around in your early days of working at Pepper’s. You had long since established a carpooling repertoire with the other wait staff. He can’t remember who usually takes you home. It’s not a parent, that much is for sure. Sasha had totted you around this past winter break due to most of your shifts lining up. And before that - his mind fogs.

The line cook spots you leaning against the glass double doors at the front, tapping idly away at your phone, and sucks his teeth - Levi was definitely going to make him go back and wipe them down tomorrow.

“You’re getting prints on my glass.”

You glance at him pointedly before breathing on the glass and smudging a heart with your thumb where the foggy imprint begins to fade. 

Eren wrinkles his nose. “Amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rain fills the silence as you take each other in. It's late afternoon, but from where Eren stands, the sunless weather casts the impression that it is well into the night. You look at him full-on for the first since the start of your shift, eyes unabashedly raking over his form. Save for the emergency lamps, all of the lights in the building have been shut off. The dim light casts shadows beneath your eyes - you look tired. 

Eren twirls the keychain in his hands, quizzical. “You…got a ride home?”

He tries not to feel offended at the way your brows spike, unable to hide your surprise. Your reaction is quick, reflexive. Your answering “Yeah!” comes out wince-like and strangled. The forced pitch in your voice makes you both cringe. Clearing your throat to try again, softer this time. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Eren stares at you. The teeth of the key bite into the skin of his fingers in the tightness of his grip. 

“Thank you for asking.” You add, a little more sincerely. 

“Yeah.” He tugs the hat over his eyes. Tosses the key in your direction and tries not to take too much delight in watching you drop your cool composure to scramble and catch the metal piece. “Lock up when you’re out.”

--

You don’t know how many times you’ve come. Consciousness comes and goes in waves. Dozed off in his lap with your face tucked into his shoulder after your third orgasm to the thrum of rain and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Eren had fumbled for a condom out of his wallet and sunk into you at your first insistence.  What started off as a frenzied, frustrated tangle of limbs somewhere along the way devolved into something much softer. Where you’re still rooted on his thick length becomes a slow, sloppy rut as you come down from your high.

Where you are sleepy, Eren is determined, dead set on accomplishing the task you set before him. 

" Hm? Feel good?” He presses his lips to your forehead, presses his thumb to your clit in a slow grind. Grins when you twitch his hold. You gave up trying to maintain any semblance of control a long time ago, boneless and relenting when Eren strongarms you into his embrace. 

“This what you wanted?” he pants, gruff and a little desperate, and you have enough energy left to nod, murmuring his name. He scoots down a little in his seat, bracing his legs in a wide stance before pistoning his hips into your warm, wet center. Any other time you would cringe at the way the skin of your bare thighs stick to the tops of his, Eren's work-issued black jeans shoved mid-way down his legs. All he can offer is a breathless moan in response when you wail and wriggle in his hold, hips reflexively jumping away.

“So hot like this,” he breathes into the space behind your ear. “So good, fuck.”

You reach one hand up to brace against the back windshield, palm slipping across the condensation. The playlist Eren put on loops again. 

--

At the end of his Sunday shift, Eren finds himself sitting in his car in the back parking lot at Pepper’s, unearthing a joint from his dash drawer and digging around for his lighter, silently cursing himself.

Parked beneath the restaurant sign - Pepper’s in brilliant white script, a caricatured bell pepper hugging the ‘P’ - the neon red mascot hovers far above the hood of Eren’s hooptie. Seemingly glowering at him through his windshield with a knowing smile. He can spot the cartoonishly wide eyes from where he sits, even through the downpour of rain.

Of course, you found him fucking appalling. The last time he had seen you, he’d practically dropped to his knees at the chance to distract you from the guy you actually liked. 

The ringing sound gets a little louder behind his ears. Can I really keep going like nothing happened?

From the start of your career at the restaurant Pepper’s - if you could call it that - you had made it very evident that you and Eren were of two separate worlds.

You were a college student. You had shiny friends and extravagant stories from a bigger city, a vastly different lifestyle than the quiet bubble and hum of suburbia you called home. Eren had seen the Instagram pictures. You had goals. You had ambition. Pepper’s was a pit stop for you. Although you never outright mocked him for it, he could see it in the sneer on your lip sometimes when you interrupted a smoke break or in the aggravated glint in your eye when you had to address him about a dish. 

You considered him beneath you. 

A gentle rap at his window pulls Eren from his thoughts, and he practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of you standing in the pouring rain, crouched over his window. Face pressed pleadingly into the cold glass. Eren freezes, and then jumps into action, fumbling his newly retrieved lighter and nearly dropping his joint in the process. 

“Holy shit?”

He places his things in his pocket and rolls down the window just a crack, the wind already whipping water into the interior of his car. “You good?”

It’s a stupid question - one he expects you to reproach him for. Instead, a rare look crosses your face - you look meek, and nervous, in a way you haven’t since your first day on the job. Arms crossed, lips pursed. Like you’re about to do something you don’t normally do.  The rain pelts your flimsy excuse for a rain jacket.

“Could I - Can I get a ride?” He can pick out your agitation even over the rumble of the thunderstorm. “I’ll give you gas money, I just-,”

“Money? What-,” He unlocks his car door, incredulous. “Can you just get in the fucking car please?”

You grimace at his tone when he rolls his window back up, but Eren watches you skirt around the front of his car nonetheless. You plop into the passenger seat, a puddle of rainwater. He can hear your socks squish in your shoes when you shift in your seat.

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, looking at your hands. Your jeans feel ten pounds heavier, the denim soaked all the way through. “My ride didn’t-,”

You stop and then start again, and Eren moves to interrupt you. You speak over one another.

“- No, it’s no -,”

“-I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Eren steals a glance at you, seeing what he hopes is just the rain streaking down the sides of your face. He fiddles with his phone and puts on a random playlist to fill the silence.

 He notices the tremble in your hands, the way your usually self-assured posture has shrunk into itself. You look small in his passenger seat. At once, all of his annoyance melts away, replaced by a surge of concern.

"Hey," he starts softly, "It’s whatever. Don’t sweat it, seriously." Eren notices you shiver and reaches over to blast the heat in his dinky sedan.

“Fuck, you’re freezing, hold on.”

You watch, pressed against the passenger door to make room as your coworker reaches behind his seat, long limbs momentarily invading your space as he dregs up a dark green hoodie from the depths of his car floor with a flourish. A bright red pepper patch the size of your hand is sewn across the chest. The cartoonish mascot of your place of work smiles mockingly back at you in the dim lighting of Eren’s car with wide, unseeing eyes. 

It’s your turn to wrinkle your nose at him, skeptical. “It’s clean I swear, grabbed it on my way here this morning.”

Despite your skepticism, you take it from him anyway, between two pinched fingers for dramatic effect, moaning and groaning as you pull it over your head.

“We can’t let this be a regular thing.”

It’s said so casually, but the jolt of rage and disbelief Eren feels at your reference to last December is tremendous. He scoffs, avoiding your gaze as he reveals the joint and lighter from his pockets once more.

“Oh, so we can joke about it but not talk about it?” It comes out more scathing than he intends to be.

He registers your obvious shock beside him at his words but only pauses to balance the filter of his forgotten joint between his lips, already poised to burn the rolled end with a steady hand as he flicks the lighter on. “Do you mind?”

You shake your head, sinking into his hoodie and wordlessly watching as he inhales, deeply, then exhales, indulgent. A sweet, earthly smell fills the car. “Alright.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Eren studies you a little too hard, more clarity in his gaze than you would prefer. You don’t refuse when he passes you the roll, gently pinched between two fingers. He waits until you’ve inhaled to voice his suggestion, taking a little amusement in how you choke on the smoke. “We could talk about Jean. I think there’s definitely a lot to cover there.”

Eren waits for you to back down from the obvious challenge. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace at the sound of the dayshift manager’s name. “Is that what this is about? Is that who usually picks you up?”

“You never noticed?” You don’t sound mad, just surprised, so Eren figures it's okay to be honest.

“You…no.” He shakes his head and takes a hit.  “I could give less of a fuck about what Jean gets up to in his free time, sorry.”

“Ah.”

You’re silent for a little bit after that. When he glances at you again, you’re already handing him the joint and turned to face the passenger window, gazing out at the rain. The size of Eren’s hoodie seems to swallow you.

He doesn’t press you to elaborate, but you do anyway, feeling guilty for your matter-of-fact attitude earlier, when he’s been nothing but accommodating for you so far. You decide to give a little. “We’ve been carpooling together every shift. Every year. He dropped me off today…”

“Said it would be the last time.” You peter off. "We had vacation plans together."

You had planned to go to the beach with mutual friends - Jean's parents owned a beach house on the coast. You were going to meet his parents. You can remember how light you had felt the day after the plans had been made, last summer, practically dancing into work the next shift, and then with a little more clarity, the awful pit that had formed in your stomach when he had broken the news to you on the drive to work this morning.

Eren shifts in his seat, and clears his throat, trying to quell the urge to punch Jean in his. He ashes into a little dish in his cupholder. “Figured somethin’ had happened. Been in such a shitty mood all day.”

“Me? Okay, Mr. I’m gonna mope in the kitchen until somebody notices and takes pity on me. Didn’t you ever go through a goth phase as a kid? I think know a couple of artists you could get into.”

“Tsk,” Eren brushes off your laughter with another hit of his joint, halfway smoldering between his fingertips. “You wouldn’t know a goth phase if it smacked you between the eyes.”

“Mm, no I figured you’d be an expert, with hair like that.”

“Like what?”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles behind your hand, high catching up to you, a balmy and pleasant buzz in your head. The image of Eren rocking an early 2010s-grunge fringe cut clear as day in your mind’s eye. You blame the weed for making you brave enough to lean over and reach across the console to brush the sable fringe that escapes from his bun and spills from under his baseball cap out over his eyes. 

Until recently, your relationship had been largely surface-level. This prim and proper versus anything goes repertoire you had both built over the years, banter that exclusively involved work lingo and work references and work friends. You’d come back from college, and Eren was there. You’d leave for another semester, and Eren was still there.

As permanent as a fixture in your mind as the walk-in fridge or the soda dispenser. Always prepared to give you hell on a slow moving shift or crack jokes at your expense. Always there to keep your plates in order or set aside a pasta entree for you during a dinner rush despite his strict “customer-orders-before-employees” edict because he knows you won’t eat otherwise. Always there to cover for you when your bathroom breaks went a little too long.

He’ll tap dance on your last nerve all day, but you care for each other, through that vague sense of solidarity that coworkers share.

Eren blinks back at you, low and slow, eyes caught on your easy smile. The first genuine one you’ve given him all day. He’s entranced, savoring the feeling of your fingers drifting across his brow bone, tracing his jawline, and then sliding back along the nape of his neck to tuck under the strap of his hat.

For a moment, it’s all a little too much for Eren. The gentleness of your touch and tone, your full, undivided attention as you undo the strap. He quietly marvels at the ease with which you do it with one hand, slipping the knot of his hair free. The loose strands freefall over his eyes once more, but you’re quick to push them back. You shift forward further out of your seat to use both hands, and he lets you, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your finger raking gently across his scalp. Distantly, he admonishes himself for somehow ending up allowing you to let you pet him like a dog in his own car. 

He’s supposed to be driving you home.

“Did you-,” Eren’s voice cracks, and you don’t bother hiding your laugh. “Would you feel better if you like, talked about it with someone?”

The joint is simmering down to it’s last dregs between Eren’s knuckles. He offers it to you, and you twist his wrist to direct the filter towards your mouth, inhaling with your lips pressed to his fingers.

Eren would blame the heat crawling up his chest on the AC, but it’s at that moment he notices the heater never kicked in. He frowns, turning away from you to restart the car, stomping on the break.

The vehicle lurches and makes an odd shuddering sound before hot, stale air blasts through the vents. You lean away from the one closest to you, fumbling the shutter closed. “The fuck is with your car?”

“‘S old as shit. Whole thing is on its last leg.” Eren gripes, waving off a cloud of dust that seemed to halo around his head. He tries to roll his eyes when he clocks your “no, duh” expression, but the motion feels slow and clunky behind his eyelids. “Doesn’t matter. Fixing up a new one anyway.”

It only stings a little when your brows nearly shoot up to your hairline in surprise, inhibitions lowered, no longer able to hide your indifference to him as well as usual. 

“You build cars?” Your lips feel like rubber under the haze of marijuana. The words feel stupid the moment you utter them, but Eren catches what he dares to believe is a hint of awe in your tone. He ribs you for it, preening a little under your attention.

“Yeah, me build cars,” the line cook laughs and mocks you, caveman-like. “Car go fast.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

You pout, ignoring his raspy, rumbling laughter and the warm feeling blossoming in your chest. The memory of him smiling up at you, all teeth and impish in Sasha’s bathroom winks across your mind’s eye.  Arms crossed, you whip around to face the window again, withdrawing before he can catch the deep color crawling across your cheeks. In all your years of working together, you’d never really considered what Eren did outside of work and hanging out with your circle of colleagues. You feel like you’ve unveiled something vast and unknown.

“That’s cool.” You offer in a whisper, awe poorly hidden in your voice, and it’s Eren’s turn to hide his face.

“Didn’t know you had a hobby.”

“Yeah, well, I do exist outside of all this, y’know,” he gestures vaguely in the direction of the restaurant and you hum, nodding. Feeling silly that this is a realization you’re only just now coming to.

A strange new calm had settled between you. The rain outside continues its relentless assault, but within the car, you feel a fragile connection form. You peek at Eren from the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable in the dim light, yet somehow comforting. Equally lax and low-lidded. He reaches for his glove box to reveal a second preroll and gets to work lighting it as you observe his side profile in silence.

 You’re not too prideful to admit he looks handsome like this, hair undone and falling over his shoulders, work polo unbuttoned at the top, features lit up by the dim glow of the lighter in his fist against the overcast gloom of the afternoon.

Then he squints, face twisted like something has been bothering him. “I thought you didn’t smoke.” Or at least, he had assumed so, by how often you got on his ass about lighting up while on the clock.

“At work, dumbass.” Eren exhales, and the car gets hazy again, even with air running through the vents. He sees you twist your fingers into the hem of his hoodie and wishes they were in his hair again. “I am a college student.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.”

You reluctantly turn to face him again, if only to implore him to continue. “You can be so…I dunno.” He scrambles for the right words through the drug-induced fog in his brain, faltering a little under your scrutiny. “Uptight? Straight-edged? Can’t imagine you reaching for a blunt to wind down.”

“It’s not my first choice of coping mechanism,” you joke, plucking the newly lit roll from his grasp between careful fingers, laughing through your nose when you miss on the first try. You take the opportunity to throw his words back at him, childishly. “I do have a life outside of here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descends again, still comfortable in the haze of the car. It’s getting a little harder to breathe. You steal another glance at your colleague, noticing the way his gaze tracks the motion of the joint being brought to your lips, strands of his dark hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. That unexpected warmth grows in your chest, a feeling you can’t bring yourself to name. Not after this morning.

Eren leans closer, over the console that separates you with lidded eyes that flicker between your gaze and your mouth as you slowly expel the smoke from between your lips. Eyes set on you with an unfamiliar softness that makes your heart ache. The distance between your faces shrinks agonizingly slowly. He whispers your name, and suddenly you’re lurching backward, struggling up out of your seat to slip into the crevice that separates the front of the car from the backseat. The moment is broken.

Eren yelps, ducking in time to just nearly miss being clipped by your sneakers as you shimmy into the back seat. You peel his hoodie over your head with exasperated finality.

He twists in his seat to face you, bewildered, but you’re already settling into his back seat with a smile, still trying to keep two steps ahead of him even when you’re stoned.

Eren’s not really sure what he’s trying to prove to himself - prove to you. But that little ache in his chest gets a little gentler when you look at him like that, the confusion about whateverthisis becomes a little less profound, a little quieter.

 “Come make me feel good.”

He recognizes the undertone in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice. The young man moves on autopilot, stepping out of the driver’s seat to slide into the backseat beside you, ignoring your indignant shriek with a grin when the rain lashes the car’s interior. Eren is dripping wet when he reaches for you, lips slips slotting against yours with an eager certainty that makes you moan.

He wouldn’t call it a crush, but if anyone could have heard the way his heart kicked up when you beckoned him into his own backseat - they might argue otherwise.

--

Once again, Eren is dropping you off while you wear something of his. He watches you fiddle with the hem of the Pepper’s hoodie as he pulls into your parents’ driveway, behind one of their cars. 

The line cook thinks back to what you revealed to him earlier, how Jean had been your usual carpool to work, and gets angry all over again. “You thinking of getting one of your own?”

He means a car, but you’re too busy avoiding his eyes again, studying his hoodie a little too closely. “Yeah, do you think Erwin has any more? I think this merch is from before even I started, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the pepper drawn like this.”

You pick at the outdated mascot embroidered across the chest of the piece, the cartoon eyes glaring back at him unblinkingly, as if daring him to correct you. 

The rain had subsided on the drive to your neighborhood. You look less gaunt in the sunlight. Eren remembers how you let him hold you after your spontaneous round of marathon sex. Sticky and sweaty and damp for a whole new reason. Remembers how you pressed a kiss to his forehead after the fact, how it made him feel warm with a different kind of buzz entirely independent of the bud you had smoked.

 He stops you when you move to take off the hoodie again and give it back to him, halfway out of the car.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a lopsided smile. “You can keep this one.”

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 6, "I don't wanna share."

“Ok, I need to bring you back down to Earth for a sec, Daisy.”

An audible groan passed through my lips as I rolled my eyes, “Here we go.”

“No, listen,” Sasha poked at my bicep, which was propped up so I could hide behind my arms just a little bit, “listen, listen. You obviously need to hear this-”

“You were the one telling me that I needed to let loose! This is me- letting loose! Going with the flow. Being chill!” I sounded exasperated, which didn’t help my defensive case. I didn’t know how many times I could reiterate the same point until the words didn’t carry any meaning.

“Yeah, no, I did say that!” She gestured with her pretty pink nails, “but letting loose and being in a situationship are not the same things. In fact, I would argue that they are complete opposites.”

“And I would argue,” I looked to her, pointedly, “that they are not. That this isn’t even a situationship in the first place.”

Sasha snorted, eyes crinkling shut for a moment. Then, she remembered herself and got a little more serious. “Ok, listen,” she shook her shoulders, “do you have feelings for him?”

There was no question here. I didn’t have to think about it. I knew I had feelings for him from the moment he had kissed me in that hallway, the air conditioning humming like a taunting melody beneath our breathless sighs. Despite how quickly the confirmation fell through my lips, little flashes of memories reeled at the front of my mind.

Oliver and I in his hotel room, his gentle hands wetting a towel and carefully, like I was glass, swiping my skin clean.

Oliver and I in the shower, supple kisses on my collarbones and the back of my neck as he lathered soap through my hair.

Oliver and I on the roof, the bright lights of Paris and the faint sounds of a violin playing on the streets below us guiding our hips through a dance that felt as natural as the air that blew through my hair.

Oliver whispering my name into my ear, Oliver tucking me into his bed, Oliver throwing out his cigarettes and being one week clean. Oliver begging me to come to a show, promising to show me some of his new music if I’d just come.

Oliver telling me that if I came to the show this Friday, he’d let me sign my name across his ribcage, and paint over it with midnight black, sealing clean a secret that burned for our eyes only, barely visible beneath what looked to be the night sky on his skin.

“And does he have feelings for you?” Sasha hummed in response.

“I…don’t know. I think so…”

Oliver’s words in my memory-

“You’re so fucking pretty…pretty like a flower. I can smell the pollen in your skin. It makes my nose tingle,” His nose in my neck.

“Everytime you smile at me, I feel it, Daisy. The moment you walked out of that airport…I- just. I’m stuck in this vicious cycle, and you’ve thrown me for a loop,” his fingers on my cheeks.

“Do you dress up for Halloween? Go to any University parties? I swear, all you need is a white dress and some angel wings, and you’re set. You better send me photos if you fulfill my idea. I’d build a fucking shrine for it, for you…bring down heaven, so they can reclaim you,” his hands in my hair, tracing a halo between my temples…

“Probably.”

Sasha pursed her lips, raised her brows, as she watched me question myself, “Girl. From what you’ve told me? Hmph. Anyways…he doesn’t want to be with you-”

“Can’t,” I looked away, almost shamefully. Then, my voice was quiet, “can’t be with me.”

“Okay,” she scoffed, more or less under her breath, to help me save face. But I heard it. I rubbed my hands together slowly, as if prodding at my skin would somehow help my confidence in the situation.

Sasha took a slow sip of her coffee, only pushing me further to the edge of my seat in anticipation as she analyzed my situation more and more. Then, finally, the big question, the gut-punch, the lemon in my papercut, “Why?”

The same question I’d been asking myself for…nearly two months now? Yeah. Two months. 8 weeks. Three cities (four?) The lines were beyond blurred. I was beyond blurred, eyes bleary, head cloudy. I thought that seeing Sasha would help me clear my mind a little bit. But, she had the same thoughts I did- though hers were a little more on the offense than mine. A little more verbal than I allowed my own to be. She seemed to be clear on the fact that what Oliver was asking of me was wrong. And I didn’t agree.

It’s not like he was manipulating me or taking advantage of me. He asked for my consent just about every time he even breathed in my direction, ensuring I was okay more times than was probably necessary. Besides, I was a mature, independent, smart adult- I wouldn’t allow myself to be put in a situation that would jeopardize my well-being and mental health.

(So why did it still feel so wrong?)

I was incredibly antsy to see Sasha all summer. We’d been internet friends for nearly 10 years and had only hung out once, when she visited the states 5 years ago. Now, here I was- in her home country for a whole entire month. And, luckily, she had a little bit of free time on the weekends and evenings to entertain me. In her own words, her goal over the next month was to get me on her side, to change my point of view. I just wanted to eat some croissants and buy expensive cheese. We had very different ideas of fun.

“Why, Daisy.” A statement because she knew the answer, too, and was trying to force me to come to terms with it by vocalizing it.

“Girl, I don’t know,” I settled for humor.

Sasha blew a bubble of air from between her lips, the ends of her styled side bangs ruffling about. She crossed her eyes as she peeled a strand from her bottom pout, all stuck in her lip gloss. Meanwhile, she replied, “Get real. You have a degree in analyzing human behavior. You read people like a book after just one glance in their direction. Why? Just tell me. You know it. Why-”

“Because he has an attachment disorder. Debilitating anxiety and depression. Terrible coping mechanisms. The tendency to victimize himself intentionally for attention. And I’m feeding into it. I’m giving him what he wants. I’m catering to his insecurities by fucking babying him and treating him like glass.”

In another universe, I said all that. I confronted the issue at hand and told Oliver no when he later texted me to come over.

But, in this timeline-

I shrugged. Sasha got frustrated with the situation and moved on, to shoes or shopping or something else.

I went back to the hotel. Ate dinner with everyone.

Oliver texted me. At his beck and call, I went up to his room. A dog to a bone. A dog to a dead bird, in my teeth.

And I ignored what I knew was true for about a week. It was easy, up until that point. The way he touched- the way he silently loved me- it was all enough to hold nothing against him.

Yet, enough to despise him for everything he was putting me through.

-

“Daisy…”

His words were a whisper on the back of my neck, awakening me with a sharp inhale of breath between my lips.

I gained my bearings as my eyes flew open. My tired vision slowly adjusted to the surroundings of Oliver’s hotel room, a familiar sight, sure, but never at this time of day.

I was sent into a frenzy from the realization that it was the morning time and I was still in his room, sleeping at his side, with his arm tucked securely around my waist.

“Wha-” I sat up slightly, leaning the back of my shoulder blades against the headboard. Oliver’s arms slid over my lap, his skin cold against the edge of my stomach. “What time is it?” I looked down to him, expecting a panic to be apparent on his face.

He just smiled up at me, “Only 10.”

My eyes widened. The beat of my heart picked up its pace as I instantly thought of my brother, my empty bed in our room. He was more than awake at this time of day and probably panicked, looking for me. Soon enough, he’d come knocking on Oliver’s door and we’d be found out.

I knew this would happen. We’d been pushing our luck far too much these past few weeks, as the tour traveled from Germany to Paris. It was like being in the city of love had heightened our cravings. Oliver’s, especially, were feral. He treated me, sometimes, like a prey that needed hunting. That all-consuming affection was so filling, so much so that I forgot how unhealthy it could end up being. No matter- we were having fun. But, my brother and his friends were still somewhat of a threat. Who knows how they’d react? Who knows what it could mean for Oliver and I?

Oliver noticed my panic and sat up so he could cradle my chin in his hands, “Hey, hey, hey- love, we’re okay. Sam stopped by like an hour ago to tell me he and Ronnie were going to Versailles for the day. Said to look out for you cause you were probably traipsing around the city with Sasha.”

I took a deep, relieved breath, resulting in my shoulders to slouch just a bit. I leaned my face into Oliver’s palms more, feeling his breath fan out across my face. I liked him so much, I didn’t even care about morning breath.

“Oh, thank God,” I squeezed my eyes shut.

Oliver let out a deep chuckle before pecking my lips, “You know what that means?”

I met his gaze, eyeing his sly smile, “What does that mean?”

“We have the entire day to spend in the city. Together. Just you and I. No sneaking around in the dark or hanging out in this dingy hotel room.”

“Wait, really?” I sat up with excitement. Oliver’s hands slid off my face and he fumbled around with my hands.

He squeezed them gently, grinning as he watched the smile grow on my lips. A slow nod, “Really! We can be classic, cringey tourists! Don’t have to worry about running into your brother. Nor Cy, Adam, and Max. They’re all running some stuff at the venue. So- hurry! Get ready! We have so much time to spend and we’re wasting it in bed!”

“Oh, my God, I’m so fucking excited!” I shoved the covers off my body, standing to haphazardly tug on my clothes.

Oliver moved slowly, as he always did, just watching my buzzing body with a sweet grin. “Yeah?”

“Yes! I love spending time with you no matter where, but now we can finally be in the light of day together, like normal people! Like a nor-” I stumbled over my string of thoughts, coughing up something other than what I wanted to say, “like normal, human people!”

Like a normal couple.

That’s what I wanted to say. A Freudian slip- how silly of me!

We weren’t a couple. And what we had was anything but normal.

Oliver pretended like I didn’t choke over the letter c. Instead, he presented his own ideas for our day, “I think we should at least start with Cafe de Flore.”

My brows furrowed. My heart swelled. My stomach fluttered. I knew why it would be a good idea to start there. I knew I’d told him about it- just in passing- weeks ago, maybe even months. But, how did he know that?

“Why’s that?” I quizzed.

Oliver looked at me with an expression I can only describe as, ‘duh.’ “Because it’s gorgeous and historical and you’ve been wanting to go there all summer? We’ll grab breakfast.”

I distracted myself with verbalized, rambled lists and lists of everything we could do today. I couldn’t give into the emotions swirling all throughout my frenzied body. It would only spiral into overthought anxiety and confessions of a stupid fucking word I did not want to feel.

“Of course, we’re gonna have to walk all over the city to do all of this. I don’t wanna tire you out too much. I’ll pick, like, a section of the city and we’ll stick to it. Is that a good idea? Would that be oka-” I looked to him for approval, but he was scooping me into his arms, palms low on my waist, forehead dipping towards mine.

“I would walk a million miles for you, Daisy Hallett.”

I didn’t have time to think too much about his affectionate words before he was kissing me.

And, fuck, did he kiss me.

-

Oliver let me hold his hand.

Well, he didn’t let me hold his hand. It wasn’t some kind of permission-based ordeal.

He offered me his hand.

When he stopped by the hotel room to pick me up, I opened the door, he complimented me, leaned in for a sweet kiss, then offered up his hand.

I latched on, keeping distance between our shoulders. As we walked, though, he inched his body closer, ensuring we brushed against each other, especially as we stepped out into the crowded streets. When the sidewalks were too busy, he’d let go, only to protectively guide me through the crowds with a hand on the small of my back. The moment his hand could safely be back in mine, he’d swipe it up my spine, over my shoulder blade, down my bicep, forearm, to my fingers.

It was all so…

I was feeling lucid, for lack of a better word to articulate my feelings. I was lucid. This was a dream. Paris cast some sort of love sick spell on every single person who walked through its sparkling streets.

But, I’d latch onto any ounce of love I could get from him.

We hit the cafe first, as he promised we should. He paid, though I literally tried to shove him away from the card machine. There weren’t any tables available, of course, but there was a gorgeous park nearby, so we walked over, sat by the river Seine, and ate our breakfast.

I hadn’t seen him in such visible, bright lighting in so long. I’d nearly forgotten the way his eyes turned velvety in the sunlight. The way they glinted, the way that gold shone through the undertones. He even kept his hood down, so I was able to fully appreciate the way his brown hair had a faint reddish tint to it, the pale sparkle to his sharp jaw.

I caught myself staring at him far too often as he talked about the most casual of things. How he took Spanish in grade school, how his mom made fun of him when they had a banquet for their class because he couldn’t pronounce some of the words correctly. How he joined the school band when he was 10 and knew that all those piano lessons his grandma had forced him into would surely pay off.

Our conversations didn’t cease then, and they only became more intimate as the day rushed past. We visited museums, bookstores that were tucked away in intimate side streets. We nearly got robbed when walking past the Eiffel Tower, and I was nearly tricked into giving a stranger $500 when Oliver excused himself to find a restroom in that same area. But, his height alone cast this protective shade over me. All he ever had to do was step in front of me, shadow over whoever approached us with a pointed gaze. They’d scurry off and he’d grin down at me.

I didn’t pay for a single thing. The postcards and keychains I picked out- Oliver would shuffle me aside at the register, overpowering my average stature with his dominant one. The food we ate- he wouldn’t even let me reach for my wallet by filling my hands with his things, too. Even a dress that I picked out when we visited one of the boutiques. It was expensive, and I wasn’t even going to waste a penny on it- but he insisted. Insisted…more, like, when we were a block away, he told me to stay where I was, turned back, bought it, and swept my hand up in his in passing without another word.

Things only got better as the day passed.

He kissed me on every street, sweet, gentle, long kisses that I felt in my toes. He’d stand behind me in lines, arms wrapped around my torso, fingers splayed across my stomach. When we’d sit somewhere, he’d be practically on top of me, hand on my thigh, pulling my leg up onto his. If he had it his way, I’d probably be in his lap.

And the things he was saying to me- beyond the intimate details of his life that he was sharing…Oliver would whisper in my ear how beautiful I was, how much he loved the time we were spending together. After our light lunch, he started calling me, “My love.”

It happened so casually that I thought I’d misheard him.

He held the door of the restaurant open for me and I thanked him as I passed. I reached my hand out for his and he easily took it in his.

“Anything for my love.”

We were back in the crowds, back in the thick of Paris, with the tourists and the shouting and the traffic and noise. His words were a muffle of murmured lips to my eyes.

But I knew I’d seen the way that the ‘v’ punctured his bottom lip, white teeth sinking into pink skin.

“What did you say?” I pushed up onto my tiptoes to hear him better, dragging my eyes up his face.

Oliver had been looking around, trying to decide which direction we’d head in next. When I spoke, he started to turn his attention back to me, brows unfurrowing. “Um…huh? What?”

“What did you say?” I wiggled my fingers slightly, attempting to be playful, though I was melting on the inside.

Oliver noticed the grin rising to my lips and leaned into my affections. He wrapped his arms around my side, squeezing me tight to his chest, and rocking us about. His cheek squished against my head, muffling his words, though I heard him more clearly this time. “I said anything for my love! For my sweet, beautiful, flowering Daisy!”

My.

His.

I was his.

I was his love. He had laid ownership to me. He had spoken the words I’d begged so long to hear. He’d claimed me. Laid it all out on the table and waited for me to pick it up.

I was clutching on to it.

-

The day ended too quickly. A candlelit dinner, a singular rose prickling my fingers with it’s thorns. We watched the lights on the Eiffel Tower sparkle for far too long, entranced with each other, with the sights.

I counted down each and every second, checking the lock screen on my phone each chance I had. When the minutes added up, rolling over into each new hour, my heart would drop further into my stomach. I knew that once the sun set, once we snuck back into the hotel, this would all be over. All of the longing stares would get locked away behind his hotel room. All of his pet names and secrets he shared would end.

We’d go back to the start.

I tried to memorize every inch of every moment, each touch, gaze, kiss, even the chaste ones, when his lips grew chapped in the afternoon and I had to shove a tube of lipstick into his hands. His scent lingered on the tips of my fingers, the smell of his shampoo, and I kept my hands balled towards the end, refusing to touch almost anything. I had to keep his skin on my skin, even if all that was left there were ghosts of memories and dead cells.

It was all made worse when, in those final moments outside of the Eiffel Tower, some street photographer managed to scam us into a mini-photoshoot. Oliver began to argue with the guy, not wanting to spend nearly one hundred US dollars. Then, the photographer shoved his camera just beneath Oliver’s nose and I watched his brown, doe-y eyes light up.

He paid for exactly three photos. The man printed them quickly from his streetside contraption. Oliver wrapped an arm around me, murmured some sort of, “Let’s go.” All the while, he clutched those pictures delicately, yet to show me,

Soon, though, we were just a few feet from the front of the hotel. He slowed us, there on the sidewalk. A cool breeze shivered across my skin. He held my hand a little tighter, head dipped low as he lifted those photos from his side. I looked up at him, brows a little furrowed. I watched the corners of his lips quirk up, like he was keeping some sweet little intimate secret with just himself and the wind.

Then, Oliver held out the pictures. They were spread out, like cards, like he wanted me to pick one and see if he guessed the number correctly. I’d lie and say yes. Anything for him.

I took them. My breath caught in my throat. It was a series of moments, like a film reel, all captured within seconds, now still in this paper frame. It pictured Oliver and I from behind, watching the Eiffel Tower, his arm wrapped around my waist, my head leant on his shoulder. The next second, we turned our heads towards each other, smiling cheekily. If I squinted, I could see the looks in our eyes- smitten. Delusional. Caught-up. The shine of the tower shown across our faces like spotlights, exposing us for what we were:

In love.

The final photo was us kissing, all wrapped up like a pair of strings, tangled and entwined. My fingers became sweaty and I had to clutch the photos a little tighter. I felt sick- yet elated. Like I was being spun around a million times.

“I want that one,” Oliver spoke so quietly that I nearly didn’t hear him. Then, I felt his hand close overtop of mine, fingers gliding down the photo to gently pull it from my clutches.

I held onto the other two like an oath, trying hard not to gape up at him. He grinned, first at the photo, then to me. I needed to kiss him then and there, looking at him looking at our love. I needed to consume him, take him home with him, keep him in a shirt pocket, next to my heart, for the rest of time, long after my bones have rotted and I’m a pile of dust in a hole somewhere.

He wanted it, too- I knew it.

We leaned towards each other, lips pulled together like magnets, when our names were called from somewhere down the street.

Oliver and I snapped apart, putting nearly a small field between the tips of our toes. I hastily shoved the pictures into the bottom of my purse. Oliver tucked his photo away somewhere I didn’t see and probably wouldn’t ever.

Ronnie led the group, bounding towards us with the fervor of only someone who was somewhat tipsy. Sam tried to keep up behind her with this grin on his face that I recognized all too well. He tried to slow her down, calm her, as she nearly skipped towards Oliver and I, pushing through crowds, traffic.

Adam, Cy, and Max were at the tail of the group, following slowly, talking amongst themselves. And, Ronnie reached us a moment later.

She looped her arm through mine, leading me away from Oliver, towards the hotel, with some conversation about the bar they’d just visited. I was listening to her, but I managed to overhear Sam greet Oliver, a pat to his shoulder, a brotherly grin overwhelming Sam’s formerly lovesick one.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Ollie.”

The nickname was so boyish it made my stomach flip. Sometimes I forgot he was a human being, too caught up in the emotionality of everything to ground myself in his bones and brain.

“Course, dude. She was off with Sasha most of the day. Just caught each other on my way back from the venue,” he lied so naturally. Created a false narrative within a singular breath. I tucked it into my back pocket in case someone asked about it.

I guess we needed to have our story straight, just in case someone dared to think we were anything more than acquaintances.

-

“What did you get up to yesterday?” Sasha pushed the rest of the eggs on her plate around, her stomach more than likely being full considering we just feasted on the hotel breakfast while gossiping for an hour straight. Food become like air when conversing with friends, especially girlfriends.

The question made my movements slow, for just a moment, as I reached for my glass of tea. My eyes flicked to Sasha’s, who wore an engaged smile. “Uh…just kinda walked around. Perused. Ya know- touristy shit.”

“Not too much touristy shit, I hope. That’s what today’s for!” Sasha did a little dance in her seat. She had an entire itinerary printed out in her front pocket. She was going to be taking me to all of the best spots in Paris- all of the spots I’d already been to with Oliver.

She continued, another pre-planned outing for us on her tongue, “Oh, and, tonight we’re gonna go see Sleep Token. Adam invited us. Said you still haven’t even been to a single show? Which is unbelievable considering you fucking love concerts!”

Fuck.

This was the last thing I needed.

I already sported a lovesick expression each time Oliver so much as breathed the same air as me. Pair that with him shirtless, on stage with his famous band, singing, and wearing a mask?

Jesus Christ. Why did I put myself in these situations?

I wanted to say, “Yeah, there’s a reason I haven’t gone.”

Alas, I was on a stubborn mission to try to convince Sasha that a.) I didn’t really care for Oliver that much, and b.) I was cool as a cucumber.

So, I hid my feeling of being set-back and fibbed, “Shit, yeah. I keep forgetting those guys are actually in a band. I’ve been meaning to get to a show. Let’s do it!”

And so we went.

-

I wondered if I should tell Oliver that I was coming to the show. I didn’t wanna throw him off or anything, though I knew he took on a whole new persona when he wore that mask. I was mostly worried he’d be angry with me, if he saw my face in the crowd and hadn’t gotten any time to warn his senses. It wasn’t that I expected him to throw up or anything. I just knew that unexpected things always threw me for a loop.

Then again, I didn’t really owe him any sort of warning. I’d been invited to every single concert, every single day they were scheduled. Hell, my brother and Max had been basically begging me to come to a show this entire tour. So, Oliver already had a warning. I could show up wherever, whenever I’d like.

I don’t know why I felt like such a bad ass, no informing him of my presence later that evening. But I think it was combined with the sort of learned independence that I was gaining from Sasha. Throughout this week, this day especially, she’d been slipping in little comments about me and Oliver’s situation, with enough force that I was starting to believe them.

If we really were no strings attached, then how come I was holding so tightly to these cords?

Tonight, I was who I really was, who I deserved to allow myself to be: a regular, fun girl, free as the wind, attending concerts when I wanted to, sleeping with who I craved, wearing what I truly felt like.

That had been the whole point of this trip. I’d let myself get confused by Oliver’s affections. Let myself get distracted, pulled off track. There had been times, especially at the beginning of the summer, when I’d been true to myself; when I went out, and wore short skirts, when I sat on the roof and told Oliver, truthfully, that I wanted to live.

And, then, I’d let him consume every inch of me and become the center of my focus when he should’ve just been something fun to do.

Sasha was really influencing me, and I was grateful.

Now it was just a test of how long I could stick to my guns.

-

“God, I hate platforms,” Sasha groaned, leaning her elbows atop the barricade that separated us from the stage.

I was lodged between her back, the person next to me’s shoulder, and someone’s chest. Contrary to her own statement, I was actually grateful for the black platforms lifting my height up a little bit. Without these- granted- uncomfortable shoes, I would not be able to see past Sasha’s wild curls and the tall head of the man standing beside us.

I kept a hand on Sasha’s elbow as more and more attendees filed in, worried I’d get swept up in the tide that was the crowd of so-called worshippers and wash up somewhere off-shore.

I replied, the volume of my voice a little higher than normal, “My feet are burning, but at least I can see!”

She threw a short laugh over her shoulder, “Fair!”

It wasn’t until the opening act was about to come in that the crowd sort of settled- if settling was what you could call this. I’d been to all kinds of concerts, thanks to my music-devoted family and my connections-based older brother. But, none were ever as intense than the metal concerts I attended. And, this was no different than those.

I wasn’t annoyed, just stressed, since people kept pushing into me, bumping me like the infamous carnival ride cars against others. The man beside Sasha, sort of in front of me, was getting an ear full of apologies each time I hit his bicep with my shoulder. He would- half-annoyedly- toss a look over his back, but offered up a somewhat understandable smile.

After the third or fourth time, he turned around all the way, seemingly ready to give me an earful, “Okay, listen-“ but paused when we made eye contact.

He stared at me for a moment longer than I was comfortable with, examining my eyes, my face, dragging his gaze down my body for a moment. “Uh, sorry,” he shook his head to clear his breath of whatever he was about to say. He started over, “Listen, we're gonna bump into each other. And I’d take you bumping into me over any one of these other people.”

He peeled one more look over my body. I squinted my eyes, over analyzing the situation in my head. He was a creep- I could already tell. But…a cute creep. A cute creep who obviously thought I was attractive. I could…entertain this.

I giggled at his lame joke, setting a hand against his bicep and leaning my body towards him. “Thank God! I felt so bad just flailing myself into you every two seconds. Good to know you’re as okay with it as I am.”

I saw a flicker of approval flash in his eyes. He straightened his posture a bit. The man looked around his body, to what I assumed were his group of friends to his right, back to me.

“Here,” he moved to the right a bit, creating a gap between himself and Sasha. She glanced over to witness the rest of what was to occur.

The man held out his arm as if to herd me in, gesturing with a nod of his chin for me to step forward, to fill the space he’d made. “Let’s get you a better view.”

It really was a nice thing to do, and I was so used to being treated pretty awfully by men. So, the situation made me gush.

I moved up beside him, our shoulders pressed together. We fell into a conversation so naturally, up until the opener finally came on stage. He made points of conversation throughout their performance, drawing laughter from my stomach and goofy grins to my face. We danced during one of the songs, all gangly limbs and off-beat hips.

When the opener finished, he offered to go get us drinks. I took him up on the offer, if only he promised to leave my can of Twisted Tea unopened until he got here. He made some joke about drugging me, we shared another laugh, and he was off with his friends.

Sasha finally had the opportunity to gush with me. “Oh, my God, he’s so cute!”

I nodded excitedly, feeling the rush of the moment finally settle on my chest. I was giddy, yet still nervous, especially considering Oliver and the band would be out soon.

Oh.

Oliver.

I had nearly forgotten about him.

Or…had I?

No. He had been at the forefront of my memory. Every move this man made reminded me of him. His lanky height- though nowhere near as tall- his crinkled smile, the flecks of gold in his eyes.

Matter of fact, he looked almost exactly like Oliver.

So, I had a type.

Sue me.

Or…

Or I was stupid.

It didn’t matter.

I was going to have fun. Maybe I’d fuck this guy. Maybe we’d get married. Or maybe we'd never speak again. Who knew, who cared?

“Invite him out tonight!” Sasha continued.

I furrowed my brows as I drew myself from my thoughts, “Out where?”

Sasha oh’ed, as though she’d forgotten something, “I didn't tell you. Adam said everyone’s going out after the concert.”

I deflated a little as I worried that Oliver had found out I was here. I’d wanted it to be a surprise, wanted to stall him. If Adam knew I was here, Max knew. And if Max knew, he was excited. Oliver had to be aware.

But, I guess I still had a trick up my sleeve…this new guy, whose name I apparently didn’t even know.

“We’re gonna go to the bar.”

I smiled a little, confident in my newfound plan, “I think I’ll ask.”

Sasha nudged me all cutesy. “Good.”

And, so I did. He joked about how we didn’t know each other’s names and I flirted back that that was arbitrary. But, he told me his was Evan. I told him mine. He said a flowery name was fit for someone like me, sweet and suckle.

It sounded better when Oliver said it.

Oliver’s hands felt better on my waist, but Evan had wrapped one around my back, bracing us against the barricade.

Oliver smelled better. Evan wore something cheap, something overdone and…lingering. Oliver’s scent was something sacred, to me, to the world. It kissed my skin long after I’d been with him.

I tried to push all these terrible things away. How awful of me to be entertaining someone else, when I was so clearly infatuated with Oliver? I either needed to cut ties with Oliver or learn to be able to put him in a box.

I wanted neither option. I wanted him to be all over me, staining me.

I didn’t have to want much, though, because he already was.

Evan was getting much more comfortable with me while we waited for the band, leaning down to whisper flirtations in my ear, ghosting his fingers across the bare strip of skin poking out beneath my corset top. He brought us both two shots- each- and an unopened can of alcohol, as he promised. It didn’t really matter now, considering I’d taken the shots and was letting him basically tongue my neck.

Then, the overhead lights dimmed. A hue of blue hushed the crowd. Murmurs resounded in place of what had been a loud hum of conversation.

Cheers bellowed, though, when a masked figure took a seat at the drum kit. Then, the lights faded out again. Because we were so close, I could see Max and Adam, finding their places on stage. They were masked, too, Max’s hands painted red, their bodies cloaked in darkness. Even just thirty seconds into their performance, long before any music had even begun, I cursed myself for having not come any sooner.

The lights came up again and Oliver was standing there, behind the center-stage microphone, his Vessel persona painting his body. Had I not known he was in this band, I really wouldn’t recognize him. I examined for any signs of my Oliver, only really identifying his lean torso in this dim lighting.

Then, he began singing, and any man I had once known was now a vessel for siren-like music. And I was a ship out at sea. A lamb for slaughter.

I entranced for most of the first song. Evan rocked out beside me, bouncing on his heels, singing the words. I, of course, didn’t know the lyrics. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t able to draw up a single thought, speak a single utterance. I was infatuated, completely gone. A zombie amongst this crowd of busy bodies.

The only thing that snapped me out of my frozen state was Oliver himself. The second song had begun and I think he’d finally noticed me. I didn’t know how he’d missed me- I was center stage, thanks to my brother and the other crew members.

But, Oliver was so focused on his craftsmanship that I went unnoticed. And I didn’t even blame him. This really was like worship. Only, he was my altar. I was his sacrifice.

Blood on both our hands.

When he noticed me, I felt like a giddy teenage girl at a concert. He was singing, dancing around the stage with his lanky legs, when he stopped before Sasha and I. I couldn’t see any flashes of recognition on his face because it was covered up. But I watched the slits of his mask tilt like eyelids, watched him pause, watched his lips rub together like they always did when he was nervous.

Then, I watched him grin.

His teeth were bright white against his blackened skin, edges of his lips pink from the paint that was rubbing off. I could almost see the dimple in his cheeks, almost see the wrinkles by his eyelids. He dipped his chin as if to say, “I see you, darling.”

His smile was nothing compared to mine. I lit up entirely, shoulders straightening, posture lifting. Evan’s hand slipped from around me during my adjustments and he shuffled to move it back.

This caught Oliver’s attention. He glanced to my right, noticed the stranger with his fingers on my skin. The bottom half of his face hardened. He stepped back a bit, as if offended.

In response, like it was second nature, I wriggled out of Evan’s hold. He glanced over at me, concern lacing his features, but then the music drew his attention back in. I shot Oliver an apologetic smile.

He tilted his head to the side, boring the gaze of his mask into my own with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t read his face, couldn’t see his soul through those dark brown eyes, but I could feel the jealousy, could smell it, oozing off of his skin.

He was mad. Not at me- no. He could never be mad at me. He was mad- pissed off at Evan. For touching me. For even breathing in my direction.

And I fucking loved it.

Oliver shook his head, ever so slightly, as if to warn me for what was to come. For I had sinned against him. And the fruit outside of the garden would never taste as good as it did in Eden.

–

The show couldn’t end soon enough.

I’d completely forgotten about Evan, now only indulging in conversation with him when he’d repeat himself, lean closely down into my ear, and badger me until I responded to him. I was too focused on Oliver, on the excitement of what was to come.

So, as soon as the lights went down, I latched onto Sasha’s wrist, “Let’s head backstage.”

We moved to the left, slipping behind the retreating crowd, which was trickling out of the venue at a steady pace. It didn’t take much momentum for us to get out of the pit, to the side of the barricade where a security guard was stationed.

We flashed our badges and he stepped aside to let us through. Then, he motioned for us to walk back down from where we came, between the barricade and the stage, until we reached the other side of the venue.

We did so, beginning our usual debrief. Sasha went first, gushing about the rhythm section, “Cy is just, like…so fucking talented. And, Oh, God- I don’t know what it is. I’ve never really been into it. But, Daisy…”

She gave me a look, a look I’d seen a million times before. I went to respond, beginning my sentence by saying, “They’re so hot-“

But we were interrupted. Evan had called out my name. Sasha and I turned to him, not far from the backstage entrance. He was on the other side of the barricade still, of course. His friends were grouped behind him, conversing, waiting for him.

“Hey,” he let out a breath, as if he had run to get here, when we were literally only ten feet from where we’d been all night. “Where are you running off to?”

Sasha poked my side, as if encouraging me to engage in his flirtations. I wiggled in response, tickled by her touch. I tried not to make my smile to Evan seem so painful, though it was. Couldn’t he take a hint by now?

“Just heading off.”

Evan chuckled, “Well, yeah. But, where to? You partying with the band or what?”

“Oh, um,” I looked to Sasha, hoping she could read the pleading in my eyes. “My brother’s on the crew. So.”

“Sick,” Evan replied. “Listen, we’re going to the bar. You guys should join us. You could bring your brother, the band, though I’m not sure they’d want to party with us. But, yeah, anyways. You should come. I’d love to buy you another drink.”

God, finally, he was finally starting to lose hope that anything would come between us, evident based on the way he was stuttering a little bit. I didn’t mean to be rude or prudish, but…as a person, I was allowed to flirt with someone and then not want to engage in anything more with them. Sure, it was a little shitty to lead him on like that, but that didn’t matter. I was allowed to change my mind.

“Oh, uh…” I, myself, couldn’t seem to get the words out properly. But, I needed to, if not to save face, but also to respect him and his side. “That’s okay. Look, I had fun. But, I’m not really looking for anything right now. I appreciate you, though. And I hope you guys have fun tonight. Yeah?”

Evan seemed shocked by my confession, but understanding enough to nod, though it was slow. He then stepped back, warily moving away from us. “Hey, that’s okay. Uh, listen, if you change your mind…” he was hesitant, self-conscious, but handed me a piece of paper, “here’s my number. We could have some fun together. Call if you change your mind.”

I offered him my most sincere apology, appreciative of how things worked out. Sometimes, men would get overly offended, their egos wounded, and insult you for flirting and not following through with it. He was doing the bare minimum, sure, but it was kind.

I turned back towards where we had been heading, already bracing myself for the mouthful that Sasha would surely give me. She touched my arm to gain a glance from my eyes.

She frowned, “I’m sure one day I’ll understand. But, right now…I just don’t get why you’re putting yourself through this. I won’t badger anymore, I promise. I just…I think you’re worth more than this. I wish you believed in that like I do.”

She left me standing there, her words milking into my bones like acid, only making me feel worse than I did. I wanted to bite back, but feeding the fight would only cause an issue between her and I. I wasn’t about to lose her because of some stupid boy.

I just wish she’d stop saying it all like I was dumb, like I didn’t understand the complexity of the situation. I did- it was complex. I was a complex. I knew it better than anyone.

I shook off the frustration she left me to sit in and followed after her. I caught up and latched onto her arm, springing into some conversation about the show. I was a little upset with her and her incessant need to try to change my mind, but I really wasn’t gonna let it affect our evening.

We ran into my brother and Ronnie on our way back. Ronnie was overjoyed to see the both of us, leaping from her spot to offer hugs. “Oh, girls! I’m so glad you made it out tonight! Daz…I see you’ve finally graced us with your presence?”

I giggled into her shoulder. She clutched me against her side and squeezed me, teasing my absence from the tour thus far. I patted her hip sweetly, “I knooooow. I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Sam ruffled my hair, “Bet you regret now, huh?”

“Oh, my God,” I shoved his hand away from me. Ronnie peeled herself off of me. I nodded enthusiastically, “That was fucking insane. I, like…I don’t even know. That was probably the best fucking concert I’ve ever been to.”

“Now that is the highest compliment we have ever received!” Max’s voice boomed from somewhere behind me. I didn’t have time to turn around because he wrapped his sweaty body around me and lifted me into the air.

I cackled horrendously as he shook me about. “Max! Put me down!”

Adam and Cy came from either side of us, wide grins and cheers. Adam was giddier than I’d ever seen him, “You really liked it that much?”

A hush of silence overwhelmed our group as everyone awaited my response. I’d never realized how much I meant to these guys, how much they valued my approval. “I fucking loved it!”

Everyone cheered, loudly. Max set me back on my feet and I turned to give him a proper embrace. Adam and Cyrus patiently waited their turns, squeezing me tight. They moved onto greeting Sasha. I straightened out my black leather skirt and, in the process, noticed that their red and black paints had smeared across my forearms. I easily rubbed it off with the edge of my skirt and it disappeared.

We stood there for a minute or two, discussing the show, before Max demanded we go back to the dressing room and share a round of shots. Sasha was right- everyone was going out here in an hour or two, after the boys showered, after Sam and Ronnie helped finish tearing down. The two of them joined us for a drink before returning to do so. Max, Adam, and Cyrus usually shared a dressing room with Oliver. So, I was anticipating seeing him when we finally made it to the room. Yet, he was nowhere to be found. Twenty minutes had even passed by, twenty minutes of me trying to not stare at the door. And there was no sign of him.

I finally settled onto the couch beside Max, who was rambling about the crowd. He was so happy that it made my chest flutter. I loved these guys so much. It made the situation with Oliver worse. Things would never work out between us- and I could only pray that that wouldn’t affect my relationship with the rest of the band.

Too much had passed for me to stay comfortable like this. I needed to find Oliver, if not to just tell him how fucking insane his show was, but to fulfill whatever he had promised me with that look he had had on stage.

I glanced at the door for the millionth time, knee bouncing rapidly. Adam, who was seated across from us, with Sasha and Cy on the other couch, leaned forward. He touched my knee to garner my attention away from the door. We had little privacy from the rest of the group, but they were so involved in conversation that they didn’t even notice when he said, “Ollie’s down the hall. To the left.”

I flinched at his words, a frown embedding itself into my cheeks. I shook my head side to side as I tried to deny whatever it was he was suggesting. Adam just raised his brows at me, pursed his lips. “Daz, you’re good. Just go.”

I finally breathed again, having stopped as soon as Oliver’s name left his lips. Then, I gave him this half-hearted, tired smile. And I excused myself from the group.

I couldn’t even overthink whatever had just happened between Adam and I as I flew down the hallway. I stopped before the door on my left, bracing a hand on the handle. I wondered if I should knock, though I didn’t think I really needed to. From the sound of Adam’s tone, Oliver was…waiting for me.

I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

Before I knew it, I was opening the door.

Oliver was standing at the dressing table, hands on either side of the Vessel mask as if he were about to take it off. However, he heard me enter the room and quickly turned to face me. His hands fell to his sides, pink skin poking out of the smeared, fading paint.

I nearly stepped out of the room, somewhat frightened by how predatory he seemed. His shoulders were squared, his chest pushed out. He was frowning, like he was disappointed in me or something. One of his hands traced the countertop as he turned his body to face me. I tried not to squirm at the look of his fingers, delicate, yet so…fit to kill.

“Hi,” I breathed out. The door fell shut behind me and the loud click made me flinch. The room was silent otherwise. Oliver wasn’t saying anything, there wasn’t any low humming of any machinery. I couldn’t hear a single person in the hallway. It was like we had been transported to a different place.

“Um,” I didn’t really even know what to say. Should I apologize for looking at another man? Should I compliment him for the show? Yeah, that’s what I would try.

“I loved-”

“Who was that?” His voice was deeper, hoarse from the performance. It sent a shiver down my spine.

I thought for a moment, carefully planning out my next turn of phrase, “...I don’t even know. Just some guy. I-”

“So, you think it’s okay to flirt with other men right in front of me?” He took a step forward. The movement made me push myself back, against the door. I wasn’t afraid, not in a bad way. I just felt like…prey. Like I was being stalked, methodically being coerced towards a trap, only to be skinned and eaten alive.

“No-no. I don’t think-”

“So you agree?” He took another step. The distance between us was slowly but surely being squashed.

I furrowed my brows, swallowing thickly, “Agree…agree to what? Oliver, I’m so confused-” I let out a breathy laugh.

He silenced me again, another step. “You agree that you behaved poorly. You were a bad girl, darling. I think it’s quite clear. Bad girls need to be punished.”

I didn’t say anything- wasn’t able to say anything else as he moved closer. After a moment, Oliver’s chest was against mine, his breath hot as it blew down over my face. I tried to breath properly, but failed, especially as he trailed his fingers up over my thighs, across my hips, to my waist. One hand found my throat, the other came to rest on my hips.

And, I realized…this wasn’t Oliver, not anymore. This was Vessel.

And, Vessel pressed me harder against the door as our lips met, tongues clashing against teeth, hungrily. We moved together so easily, entranced by the other’s taste. I gripped at his sides, pulling me into him, arching my back to press my chest against his. Vessel’s hold tightened, too, and he ground my hips against his.

I felt him get hard, quickly, the loose material of his pants allowing his erection to fully grind against my thigh. He was whiney, all gasping breaths, low moans, as I drug my fingers down his chest, dipped them through his waistband. He made such big claims about how I apparently needed to be punished, but turned into mush when I got a hold of him.

I nearly got to wrap a hand around him, but Vessel grabbed my fingers harshly in his, slamming my hand against the door, above my head. My eyes shot back open in surprise, though I didn’t even remember closing them. “S’all about you right now, darling,” he demanded, words against my lips. “Have to remind you why I’m better than him. That I know your body better than he ever could.” Vessel shoved his head into the crevice of my neck, nipping and tonguing at my flesh. My eyes dropped shut again, head hitting the door in a way that would probably hurt tomorrow. I had a feeling all of me would hurt tomorrow. But, I didn’t care. This was what I had been craving since the beginning of the concert.

Vessel drug his fingers up my arms, leaving goosebumps in his path, trails of black paint like a roadmap amongst my freckles. He slid the straps of my shirt down past my shoulders. Then, he kissed his way down to the arch of my breasts. He rolled the material between his teeth and sunk to the floor as he drugged it down my body. His hands quickly found my skirt, too, unzipping it and tugging it off. Now, Vessel was on his knees below me.

Vessel looped an arm around either of my thighs, nearly pulling my entire weight onto his shoulders. I clutched onto the top of his head, feeling some of his hair slip out from the cap he wore beneath his mask. It was soft, like I remembered it being, though just a bit sweaty. He glanced up at my bare breasts, smirking devilishly now. I tugged on his hair, like I know he always liked, but he refused to give in.

He admired my desperate face as he said, “Besides, darling, I watched you worship me all night. It’s my turn to pray at your altar.”

My head hit the door again as Vessel sunk his tongue into me. He had managed to tear my underwear down with his teeth and they were now somewhere laying across the room. I ground my hips into his face, back arching each time his nose would then rub against my sweet spot. I tried to be quiet at first, though small gasps and moans slipped from my bitten lips.

But, then, Vessel stopped, eliciting a whine from me. He chuckled, lips slick from me. He darted his tongue out, smirking as he cleaned his mouth. He tilted his head in disappointment, “You’re usually so loud for me, darling. Don’t get shy now, just because you’re feeling guilty. I want him to hear how good I make you feel. I want to hear how desperate I am making you feel. Me. Not him. Me."

I nodded, dazed, brows furrowed, fingers digging at his hair. The cap covering his hair had fallen off his head at this point, but the mask managed to stay on. I was grateful it did. He was like a different person, which only blazed these primal desires we shared. Vessel watched my face as he pressed his tongue back up into me, running the tip of it down my entire core. I moaned, loudly, back arched into the cold air, nipples hard from the temperature and arousal. He chuckled deeply into me, making my thighs shake around his head. Vessel pried me back open with his fingers, nearly bruising my skin. He continued on and on and on until I was close. I vocalized my point of no return, and he hurriedly spoke, “Don’t. Be a good girl and wait. For me, okay? Don’t want to make things worse for yourself, darling.

I nodded wildly, clenching my stomach to deny myself of the orgasm. Vessel gently set my feet back on the ground. He guided me by the hips towards the counter. Easily, he picked me up and set me on it. It was freezing cold against my bare skin, but his warm hands, tongue, were on me soon enough. I took the opportunity to unlatch his belt, fingers moving hurriedly. Vessel moved to help me, tugging the pants down his thighs.

Vessel then pushed me back from him, taking control again. He pushed my legs open further with his bare knee. Then, he grabbed me by the hips and tugged me down till my back was flat against the counter. His hand splayed across my thigh as he pushed himself inside of me.

He was sloppy, quick in desperation as he fucked me. But, every thrust he pushed into me was strong, deep. Vessel wrapped my legs around his waist, securing me by the hip. His other hand drug itself up my chest until his fingers were wrapped around my throat. Black paint smeared most of my skin. There was even a ring around his mouth where the paint had transferred from his skin to my own. I don’t know how we would manage to keep this rendezvous a secret from everyone else with the state we were both in. But, right now, I couldn’t care. We always figured it out.

Vessel leaned himself overtop of me, his forehead against my chest. Though he was dominating me, he was so caught up in the pleasure that he was starting to quickly come undone. I touched his back, nails digging into his skin. He tossed his head back at the sensation, neck exposed to me. I eyed the veins protruding from his skin. He smirked at me when he noticed I was staring at his neck. He growled, “Take a bite. Leave your mark. I am yours, darling. And you are mine.”

I held one hand, tightly, to his shoulder, keeping him steady as he fucked me. I couldn’t overthink what he had just said to me, though I nearly lost concentration as the thoughts swirled in my brain. But, I gripped the back of his head with the other, steadying my reality. I was slow at first, nipping at his neck gently. Vessel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy with each bite I took. I was close, too. So, I opened my jaw further, taking a pinch of his skin between my upper and lower canines. I bit down, hard.

“Fuck!”

He quickly pulled out and came on my stomach, as he normally did. As he came undone, my body shook from my own climaxed desire. Vessel pressed his forehead against mine as we rode out our high. We came down from the top and he gave me a sloppy kiss. It was stupid, but the small show of affection meant more to me than anything he’d ever done.

There was a bitter cold left on my skin as he stepped back. I hugged myself, finally taking in the black paint covering my skin. “Oh, god,” I laughed.

Vessel pulled his pants up. He looked at my body, grinning, “Fuck. That’s so hot. Darling, if we had more time…”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “Hey, we have the rest of the summer.”

“God, don’t tempt me. Here, Daz, there’s a bathroom over here,” this was Oliver now. He finished buckling his belt before peeling off his mask. Sweat dripped down either side of his face and he wore this cheesy grin. Oliver offered me his hand.

I followed him into the side room. He found a washcloth on the side of the sink, clean and unused, and wet it with warm water. Oliver gently pried my hands from covering my body and busied himself with wiping down my skin. He focused on what would be visible: My arms, neck, hands, face. I watched him while he worked. It was fucking hot when he was dominating, disgustingly dirty. But, this, this caring demeanor? This was the Oliver I loved.

Oh, God. I loved Oliver. I was starting to feel a little sick.

When he was finished, he rounded up my dress, shoes, and underwear. Oliver watched sweetly, even helping when I stumbled over my own feet. We giggled into each other’s mouths practically as his hands found my hips and he steadied me. I wondered if he’d bring up Evan again, or if he even cared that much. Maybe it was just a prompt for sex, a situation that allowed him to dominate me. Maybe he hadn’t even meant it when he said he was mine. But I knew I’d always be his.

As we giggled into each other, I was finally able to take in Oliver’s face and had to cover my mouth to stifle the cackle that tickled my throat. He frowned, slightly, confused by my laughter. “What? What is it?”

I touched his shoulders, forcing him to face the mirror. His head pulled back in shock at his appearance.

I kept laughing and Oliver peered down at me with a tilted head. “Keep laughing, darling.”

“I’m sorry, Ollie” I shrugged, “it’s just so fucking funny.”

“What’s funny?”

I yelped, trying to duck out of the way as he jolted towards me. He caught me by the waist, rattling me around in his hold. I giggled, loudly against his chest, trying to twist out of his hold. His mouth was near my ear as he teased me, “Not so funny now, huh?” I rested my forehead to his shoulder in my fit of laughter. Oliver calmed his movements, just holding me against him now. “It just goes to show the mess you make out of me,” he murmured against my ear, lips pressed to the shell of it.

I looked up at him and pointed a warning finger, “Don’t do that.”

“I know,” he huffed as he tossed his head back in frustration. “We should be getting back. Don’t want anyone to suspect anything still. We nearly got caught the other day.”

“Sadly,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to ignore what else he had said. About getting caught. He acted so offended by the thought, as if I were a stain to his reputation, a whore to his royal highness.

Oliver, however, seemed to be able to read the deflated energy in my tone. He leaned around to meet my eyes, touching my chin with his finger, “Darling, I think we should talk.”

Oh, here we go. Here was the dreaded conversation. He was probably going to end things. I was being…too much. I was taking this relationship too seriously, pinning all my hopes and dreams on a man who just wasn’t able to love somebody. He was too full of darkness, too hurt to find the capacity to love me like I deserved. He was ‘going through things.’ He was ‘broken.’ He needed ‘space.’ It wasn’t me- it was him. It was always him. Him. Him. Him. Oliver.

I knew this would happen eventually. I braced myself for impact as I watched him take a breath. I couldn’t find the space in my lungs for any air and it burned my veins. My stomach churned. My brain hurt, so, so badly. I was…tired. I just wanted him to say it already, to kill me, to twist the knife. Get it over with. I was tired of the games, tired of the back and forth. If it was going to end- could it just be now? Before he kissed me again and I fell even more in love with him?

Oliver loaded the gun, aimed, and fired, “I don’t like the idea of you sleeping with other people. I know that’s selfish and loaded and…I don’t know. I meant it when I said you were mine. And I…I am yours, Daisy. I need you, only you…and I need you to feel the same. But, I understand if you cannot because of the way our relationship still has to stand. Nothing really has changed on that end. And it’s so shitty of me. I want to…I want it to be different. But it can’t. I don’t know, I just…I need you to say something before I lose my mind…”

I twisted in his arms, finally finding the ability to breathe. My jaw was slack, my brows furrowed together as I took in everything he had just said. I didn’t know, exactly, what to say, so I tried to just focus on my breathing. This wasn’t some big love confession, no, not the one in the pouring rain, or beneath the sheets of his hotel bed that I had been wishing for. But, it was something. In fact, this was horrible. This was…selfish. Like he had said. Selfish and loaded and bullshit. But…it was something. It was…him. Him and I. It was him admitting his feelings, in his own twisted way. He was mine. He had said it, clear as day, had demanded it of me, too, in a desperate, breathless confession. He was mine- I was his. We belonged to each other, even if that didn’t change any of the strings between us. It was something for me to hold onto.

It was something for me to worship, to pray to, to hope on. A star in my Northern sky, a hand around my throat and heart…Oliver’s. Oliver. My Oliver.

That was when I truly knew how devastating things would be when they ended. I could see the fire from there, could feel it licking at my skin. Yet, all I did was smile through the burning, lean up, and kiss the flame.

[thesmokingguns]

Glazed donuts w/ Izzy Stradlins

MINORS DNI 18+ Contains sexual content

Izzy walked into the cafe, his arm wrapping around the brunette's waist, pulling her back away from the counter she was wiping down and banding her back to his chest with his arm slung over her waist.

“Hello Aya darling.” His kiss landed on her tenor before securing both arms in a hug around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she rolled her eyes at the affectionate man. 

“Working, Iz.” She tried to spin away from him but he made a tsk sound, guiding them back towards the kitchen when Sasha was taking out her latest batch of cupcakes. 

As soon as she saw the enter she rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

“You’re lucky this batch needs to cool. Don’t fuck on the counters I bake on, please? I don’t need any help making the glaze for my desserts” The door swung shut behind her and Izzy turned his girl so he could look at her. 

The way he smirked, like a cat that just got the cream made Aya shake her head. 

“You heard her. No sex in the kitchen.” Izzy’s dramatic sigh at Aya’s words had the corners of her lips turning up, his hand in hers as he pulled her through another door to the back alleyway.

“Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you out here then.” Her front was pressed against the brick wall as he let his big hands slide up her thighs, dragging the retro uniform the girls had picked out for their bakery with them. 

They had opened the bakery three months ago in Izzy’s hometown. After he had parted with Guns N Roses he needed a bit of a break to recoup from the loss of a band and having to change his dreams at a point in his life he though he was supposed to be living them. 

Luckily his girl had agreed to go and her loyal best friend had made the trek back to Lafayette where they opened up their coffee shop bakery. Aya made the coffee and ran the books while in the back Sasha cooked up all sorts of treats to serve.

They were already making more money than they expected, the location popular on weekends and early mornings for people in town. They created an atmosphere that thrived and Izzy loved seeing his girl happy and finding her home in a place he loved.

He wanted her always to be at home with him.

His mouth was on her neck, long kisses and sucks as she whimpered, pressing her ass  back and towards where the guitarist was.

“We could go home. It’s just down the street.” she muttered as his lips finally met hers. His hand sliding into the lace of his panties. His middle finger tapped at her clit, circling it as her juices leaked along her seam.

“You say this like I can wait.” He nipped at her lips, “I’m starved for you, Aya darling.” As if to prove his point to his give he dropped to his knees, his face buried between her legs. 

Izzy’s tongue licked over the lace of her panties, pressing the thin material into her wet heat as he tasted her cream through the barrier. With A growl, needing more, Izzy hooked a finger, dragging the fabric to the side as his nose bumped her slit, his tongue circling her opening as he groaned, wishing it was his cock.

Aya groaned, her back arching, thighs parting to give her man more room to feast on her. She loved him most when he was on his knees worshiping her.

Two thick fingers pressed inside of her, her lips parting as she moaned his name. Her knees already shaking as he twisted his fingers, the knuckles drenched with her as he rubbed in a come hither motion, pulled them in and out and prepared her to take him.

“I could touch you all day and I still don't think it would be enough.” He muttered, laying a kiss on the back of her thigh as he started standing. 

His lips kissed the roundness of her ass, a possessive impulse had his teeth sinking into it, watching the way his teeth marked her.

Mine. His thumb ran over the indents as he soothe it, fingers still working in and out of her body. 

“You ready to take me, darling? Do you want to feel me inside of you now?” His hand slid to his jeans, working his belt off and zipper open. 

His eyes on her body was he stroked himself and slid his fingers from her using her cum as lube. 

“Just fuck me.” She moaned as his tip slid up and down her seam, spreading her juices around as he made a mess of her. “Fuck, Iz, Please. I need your cock.” He growled, satisfied with her answer now as he pressed forward inside of her 

His cock bottomed out as he thrust deep, his balls slapping her clit as Aya let out a sound, her scream and moan sounding like a chant to Izzy.

“Fuck, that’s my girl. Your pussy is suffocating me. Fuck, I love when you squeeze me like that.” His praise as he fucked her, telling her how good she was taking him had Aya’s eyes rolling back, her body shifting so Izzy was hodling her wight as he drolled inside of her. “Give it to me. I want your orgasm, Aya darling. Gonna make my pussy cum so hard you won’t be able to walk back inside. I’m going to stuff you with my cum and have you work the rest of your shift filled with me. Do you want that? Do you want all my cum?” He growled in her ear as the wet slaps of them fucking filled the alley. 

“Yes, I want it. Want you to fill me.” Izzy’s hand slid over her clit, two fingers rubbing her as she bucked forward. The explosion of her orgasm had him having to hold her, fucking her as he chased his pleasure with her. 

One last thrust and his balls tightened, the surge as he filled her, pumping as the mix of their cum slid out, leaking over both of them and staining them with mixed pleasure. 

“You took me so well, aya darling. So fucking well, sweetheart.” He tucked himself back in his pants moving to slide her panties back up. His tongue lapping up their cum as it leaked down her thighs, kissing her lace covered pussy when she was all covered up.

Aya’s legs shook as he slid the uniform back down, slapping her ass and getting a glare from her. 

“I still have to be here for an hour.” She warned as they moved back inside. Izzy shrugged, sitting on one of the counter stools. 

“For you, I’ll wait forever.”

[bonky-n-steeb]

desire

— silverfox! bestfriend’s dad! bucky barnes x reader

summary || right from his electric blue eyes to his graying beard, everything about Bucky made you want him more.

warnings || dilf! bucky, unprotected sex, very filthy dirty talk, gray beard kink?, pussy spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, oral sex, finger sucking, choking, multiple orgasms, voice kink, seduction, petnames (sweetness, princess), very filthy. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I’m so horny for his silverfox era… shsjhssgg

“Do you have a moment?” You asked as you knocked on the open door. A small smile spread upon Bucky’s face as he looked up at you from the stack of files he was overlooking. But the smile soon disappeared as he gulped when he looked down at the dress you were wearing.

“Umm actually, I was think of reading a book and I would love to have your recommendations.” You said as you sensually walked over to him. You smirked when you noticed the way his eyes were still stuck raving over your body.

You were wearing a slip dress which hugged your curves and was nearly see through. He licked his lips when he saw that you weren’t wearing anything other than the dress. And you were happy to realise that it was having the effect you were hoping for on Bucky.

“Wha… what?” He cleared his throat when he realised that you were saying something. You leaned down on the desk such that your breasts were right in front of his face. “I was just asking for some book recommendations.” You said innocently.

Bucky’s breath hitched as he eyed your tits again. He just couldn’t get enough of how your nipples were clearly visible through the sheer material. This sure wasn’t a coincidence and you definitely weren’t that innocent.

Bucky took a deep breath before speaking up. “Be honest, do you want me to fuck you?”

Did you want him to fuck you? Yes. You wanted him to completely ruin you.

Bucky’s daughter, Sasha, had become your best friend since you’d met in the freshman year of your college. But after graduating from your university, you had to move to this city for your job while Sasha had decided to tour the world with the gracious courtesy of her father’s money.

You were a little sceptical of living in the city alone without any connections, and it was then that Sasha had suggested that you live in her house. You initially didn’t want to accept her offer and be a burden, but after constant persuasion from Sasha, you had finally caved in.

You still remembered coming directly to her house from the airport. You had thought you’d be alone as Sasha wasn’t even in the country and she hadn’t specified anyone else would be there. But oh, how wrong you were.

But the moment you had seen Bucky Barnes warmly welcome you into the palatial house, you were so dumbstruck that your bags had literally slipped from your hands. He had just smiled and patted your back as he guided you through the vast halls.

You had screamed to Sasha over the phone about how she had kept you in the dark and her only reply was that the house was big enough for you to avoid Bucky if you wanted to. But that was the problem, you didn’t want to avoid Bucky, you couldn’t.

Right from his electric blue eyes to his graying beard, everything about that man leaked pure sex. You definitely hadn’t missed the glances he gave your way when he thought you weren’t looking, and you were shameless enough to ogle the dilf while he did literally anything.

Looking at that man, you just knew he fucked good. He was built like a brick shithouse and had the charm to woo anyone he wanted. You were a little scared of acting towards your feelings for him, but after last night where you’d seen him get out of the pool, dripping wet, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Though you were still a little nervous about the act you were pulling, you knew he liked you too. The way he touched you a little more than necessary, the way he laughed a little too hard when you cracked a silly joke, the way he looked at you with hunger in his eyes, were all the indicators you needed.

You didn’t even waste a second in answering to his straight forward question. “Yes!”

Something changed in Bucky’s eyes that instant and you gasped when you felt his warm hand grace your throat. He wasn’t pressing, just holding you still and making you aware of his power. “You look so fucking cute in this dress.” He rasped as he trailed his metal fingers down your gown.

A breathy sigh left your lips when he pinched your hardened nipples through your dress. You were sure Bucky could feel your heart racing through the hand that was wrapped around your throat. He was still very much seated in his plush chair while you bent at an odd angle.

“Do you know what would make you look cuter?” just his thick voice was making you squirm. His words were commanding and reeked dominance and yet they wrapped around you like chocolate and made you melt on the spot. He pressed himself ahead such that his lips were right against your ear. “You’d look even cuter with my cock in your mouth.”

Your brain nearly short circuited with just his filthy words. You were obediently about to get down on your knees like you’d dreamed of a hundred times before, but Bucky stopped you. “You’re such a good girl, sweetness. Just one word from daddy and you’re getting down on your knees.”

He pulled you forward and rewarded you with a sweet kiss on your lips that made your stomach flutter. “I’m dying to see you make a mess on my cock, but not today. Today I’m going to treat you like a princess.” With that, he got up and you gaped as he cleared everything that was on his table with a sweep of his hand and pushed you back on it.

He was quick to spread your thighs and you choked on your spit as the cool air hit your bared cunt. Bucky’s eyes were filled with lust and darkened such that only a light ring of blue was remaining. With two of his fingers, he spread apart your wet folds and your enter body heated up.

His smirk could only be described as devilish as he sat down on his knees. He released the hand over your neck and you somewhat missed the feeling. You got up on your elbows to see what he was about to do, but he pushed you back down. He shifted you such that your thighs were resting on his shoulders.

The first lick of his warm tongue against your needy cunt was enough to make you moan like a whore. Your fingers gripped the edge of the wooden table as he lapped up your soaking petals. His tongue was skilled and even better was the slight burn his beard was searing your thighs with.

“This sweet pussy…” he spit on your cunt, adding to the mess, before continuing, “… is mine!” He turned his face around and you nearly screamed with overwhelming ecstasy as he sank his teeth into your thigh. “Say it!” He demanded and your spluttered.

“It’s yours!” You pushed your fingers into his hair, but he quickly held your wrists away from him. “You know better than to forget your manners. Now what do you call me?” You were so delirious with the urgent need to cum, you couldn’t really process his words.

Your eyes flew wide open and an electric flow travelled up your spine when his hand connected with your swollen folds in a loud slap. You instinctively closed your legs, but he held them open. “Don’t you ever deny me what’s mine.” With that, he spanked your cunt again.

“Please.. I fuck!” You were trying to think, but Bucky just kept on stepping up his game. It was the third spank on your tender pussy that made you remember his original question. “Ohmygod! Daddy! Fuck! I’m sorry daddy!“ you nearly screamed.

“Good girl.” Bucky placed a tender kiss to your throbbing clit, and this act was somehow more lewd than anything before. He was once again back to lapping you up like a starved man and you nearly went spineless on the table.

His warm lips around your swollen bun was the tipping point you needed and you came with a loud cry of his name. Pure ecstasy flooded your veins as you writhed on the table. And Bucky lapped up all that you gave him as your legs shook around his face.

Bucky got up from between your legs only when you stopped trembling like a calf. His lower face, especially his grey beard was covered with your juices and that was the hottest sight you’d ever laid your eyes on.

You panted for breath on the desk as Bucky lowered his pants and pulled out his cock. Your nearly salivated at his long girthy cock as he fisted it slowly, giving you a show. It was a little curved and covered with veins which you wanted to trace with your tongue.

You hissed as he placed the tip of his cock over your nub. He rubbed the head of his cock between your petals and your mewled with need. “Don’t tease me daddy.” You whined when he didn’t enter you, and just kept on teasing you. Bucky was still very much dressed and composed while you begged and this turned you on even more.

“I’m teasing you?” He scoffed. “I don’t think that’s what happened here, princess. You were the one who just walked in here, practically naked. Whenever you bend down and show off that fucking ass of yours makes me wanna tear your clothes to shreds and fuck you raw.” He sneered.

“Then fuck me!” Your demand turned into a pathetic whimper as his thick length entered your clenching hole in a hard stroke. Bucky wasn’t gentle as he fucked into you. His hands were holding your hips hard enough to bruise as he rammed into you like a man possessed.

“Oh.. oh! Fuck daddy! You’re fucking me so well!” You blabbering nonsensically as he fucked you within an inch of your life. His curved cock was hitting just the right spots and you nearly saw stars as he pounded into you. The force of his thrusts was shaking the table, but it was the least of your worries.

“I’m gonna… I’m.. oomf!” You choked as he pushed two of his cold metal fingers into your open mouth. You didn’t know if Bucky could feel those fingers, but you sucked on them anyway. You didn’t know how, but the suckling on those fingers made you even more relaxed.

“Look at you, princess. You’re making such cute wet noises as you drool around my fingers.” The shame you felt from his words only aroused you more. Your saliva had indeed collected at the corners of your mouth as he warmed his fingers in your mouth.

This orgasm hit you like a freight train, out of nowhere and harder than anything else. The world muted into soft clouds of pleasure and you felt as if you were floating on them while drowning in honey. A few tears slipped from your eyes from the sheer intensity.

“I was wrong, you look even cuter crying on my cock.” His words were so condescending and yet you loved it. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, now dripping with your saliva and placed them straight on your clit. He pressed tight circles over your nub and you sobbed.

“Did you think about me at night while you touched yourself?” You really didn’t know how Bucky was talking so much while fucking the daylights out of you. You were too out of it to lie, so you simply admitted the truth. “Yes!”

“Hmm.. now you don’t need to lay awake thinking about me. I’m gonna fuck this pussy so well, you’d feel me for days.” You honestly didn’t know how long you’d last. You were very sensitive from your previous orgasms and you could already feel yourself approaching another rapidly.

“I.. Uhh I.. urrghh Daddy!” You exclaimed as you felt yourself getting closer. “Shh.. I know princess, I know.” He cooed and somehow his condescending tone was what made you tumble down again. “You can give me one more, I know you have it in you… yeah! Just like that. Let go for me cum for your daddy.” Bucky grunted as he too came in warm spurts inside you.

He trusted a few more times before collapsing on top of you like a warm blanket. Your held him close as you both panted to catch your breaths and you couldn’t help but think that you were going to live a lot longer in this house than you had initially expected.