#(there is smut so 👀)

[notreallythatlost]

AT YOUR FEET

➴ halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader

summary: you are an elf, cast out by your people thousands of years ago. now you are sauron’s lover and he promised to give you what you want most: revenge and the satisfaction of all your desires.

warnings: 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, knife play, sex on the floor, slight biting, reader is on sauron’s side, a little fluff in the end

word count: 1.8k

author‘s note: well… here i am writing about sauron again. i’m so obsessed with him and i know y’all are too. 🤭 i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoy writing about him. and thank you all for the support, it means so much to me. you are amazing, never forget that. xx

The forge was almost completely dark when you entered. Only the flickering embers in one of the furnaces provided light, which fell on the man who stood with his back to you.

“I knew I would find you here,” you said with a gentle smile, which made him turn to you.

“What are you doing here? Is Galadriel sending you to convince me to accompany you?” he asked, looking at you with an impenetrable gaze.

You couldn’t help but grin and shake your head slightly. “You should know by now that I don't let myself get ordered around. Especially not by someone like Galadriel.”

Halbrand raised his eyebrow, but smiled when he catched you in his arms as you ran towards him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you looked up at him. “I know you want to see Númenor fall, my love. But let's go back to Middle Earth. You've waited so long for this moment, why not take the chance?” you asked, but Halbrand silenced you by putting his index finger on your lips. Your eyes met his and it was as if your insides were bursting into flames.

“I'm going back to Middle Earth. And then what?” he asked quietly and pushed you back until your back hit the wall while he looked you deeply in the eyes.

You held his gaze and stroked slowly over his chest with one hand.

“You, my Dark Lord, will bring your enemies to their knees. Right where they belong,” you breathed as he came closer to you and you could already feel his warm breath on your lips.

“Keep talking...” he whispered and you had to smile again, pushing him back a little.

“You will let them feel your power and all of Middle Earth will be at your feet. To worship their king, the true king of-“

Your words were drowned out by a kiss as Halbrand pressed his lips greedily to yours. It was as if he was starving and your lips were the only thing capable of keeping him alive while he devoured you.

His breathing was heavy as he pulled away from you slightly. “Not quite,” his words were only a breath, a soft touch against your already swollen lips and he pushed your hair behind your shoulder with one hand.

“They will be at your feet, my love.”

With that, he kissed you again and pressed you against the wall with the weight of his body. His hands grasped your face, held you in place while his tongue pushed into your mouth. A low moan escaped you and you were ready to surrender to him right here, but he seemed to have other plans for you.

His hands slid down your body, long fingers finding the hem of your dress. As soon as he grabbed the soft cotton, he pushed it up, revealing your bare thighs to the warm air of the forge.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable and you longed for his touch — so much that you thought you were going to lose your mind.

Halbrand seemed to enjoy the torture he did to you, because he pulled away from your lips and watched as your head fell back the closer he got to your throbbing center.

You were just about to raise your head when he slipped a finger through your folds, causing a breathless moan to escape from you. He didn't make a game of it, because not a second later two of his fingers slipped inside of you.

The intensity of this touch made your knees go weak and you sank down slightly, but Halbrand held you tight. “And I thought I should be the one kneeling in front of you,” he commented with a wicked smile and began to move his fingers.

Your hands dug into the fabric of his clothes and your head fell forward against his shoulder. It felt so good and yet it wasn't enough. You wanted, no, you needed more.

He seemed to sense it too, because he withdrew his fingers from you again. They glistened with your juices in the light of the fire and Halbrand brought them to your lips. “Be a good girl and open your mouth,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and you obeyed him.

Your lips closed around his fingers and you whimpered softly at the taste of yourself on your tongue. You sucked on his fingers, as your gazes were locked but he didn't wait long before removing his fingers from you again. His hands quickly grabbed under your thighs and lifted you up in one fluid movement.

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands buried in his hair desperately. “You will get your revenge. And I will watch with joy as you rise from the ashes. As my queen,” his voice was so deep by now that every single one of his words let your insides clench around nothing, desperate to finally feel him inside of you.

Halbrand carries you away from the wall and to one of the tables where he sets your feet down on the floor again. His hands left your body, grabbing one of the daggers which layed on the table next to you. “And then I will be the one who lies at your feet...” With these words, he tears the thin fabric of the dress apart with the dagger, exposing your naked chest.

Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him, but he didn’t look away from you. As if you were more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in his long life.

He placed the blade on your collarbone and ran it over your skin. He looked deep into your eyes as he moved the dagger further down. It caused goosebumps to spread across your body and you bite your lower lip to suppress the moan.

His gaze dropped to your breasts and he let the blade slide over your stiff nipple. Your breath caught and you felt like you were suffocating, you wanted him so much.

“Sauron,” you whispered his name and finally, his gaze met yours again. There was a hunger in his eyes, the same hunger that raged deep inside you. The knife slid down your torso before he put it back on the table. Softly his hands cupped your face and he kissed you again. With such passion that you moaned into his mouth.

Together you sank to your knees, kissing until he gently pushed your shoulder back so that you had to lie down on the floor.

Halbrand leaned over you slowly and stroked his hand over your cheek and neck until he finally reaches your breasts. His thumb touched your nipple and you arched yourself against him.

The touch elicited a longing moan from you and you saw a smile creeping onto Halbrand's face. “Let me feel everything of you,” you whispered with a broken voice, too desperate to keep it steady.

“Well, I could never deny you this wish, my queen,” he answered as he started to free himself. He was so big, so perfect, and the sight of him made your mouth water everytime.

Your fingers close around the hem of your dress, which you slowly pulled up and revealed yourself to him. Halbrand settled between your legs and let the tip of his cock slide over your entrance slowly, even torturing. A taste of what was about to come.

With a single movement of his hips, he thrusted his full length into you and put his hand over your mouth to muffle your scream.

“Shhh,” he breathed in your ear and began to move his hips slowly. “As much as I want to hear your beautiful little screams for me, you don't want anyone to catch us, don’t you?,” he continued, releasing his hand from you again.

But you couldn’t help but moan when he hit a sensitive spot inside you and you wrapped your legs around him to feel him even deeper.

He took it as a sign and started to speed up. His hands wandered up your body, catching your head as it fell to the side.

“Look at me,” he gasped as he moved his hips forward again. It was hard to do what he said because he filled you so perfectly, hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. You felt like you were floating, lost in the feeling of endless desire.

Halbrand found grasp in your hair and buried his fingers in the soft strands. He pulled your head back, gaining access to your neck. He kissed, bit and sucked on the thin skin there until you writhed beneath him.

“Please,” you moaned and trembled as the orgasm slowly builds up inside you. You couldn’t think of anything else except the desire to finally find release and Halbrand could feel it.

“Easy, love,” he breathed against your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, so tightly that you knew it would leave marks.

And you knew that later he would tenderly caress these marks, because they were the sign of your lovemaking — that you belonged to him, even though nobody else could see it.

He pushed himself into you again, this time even harder. He had no mercy in fucking you into the floor and enjoyed the sounds of pure pleasure that came from your lips.

And when he touched your sensitive bud, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Everything inside you tensend until you finally feel like you're falling. You screamed his name breathlessly while your body trembles under the waves of the orgasm.

He fucked you through it until he found his own release. His upper body fell forward and he supported himself with his hands next to you. Breathing heavy and with closed eyes, he emptied himself into you. Finally, he sank onto your smaller body and you let your hands glide softly through his dark locks.

“I take that as a yes” you broke the silence that had fallen over you and got his attention.

“What do you mean by that?” Halbrand asked curiously and looked up at you.

“Are you coming back with me to Middle Earth?" you asked and watched him sit up. A soft whimper escaped you as he slipped out of you by that.

After he had put his pants back on he crouched down in front of you again. Halbrand offered you his hand and pulled you back into a sitting position, taking your face gently in his hands.

“I would follow you everywhere, my love. And if you wish to go back to Middle Earth, I'll come with you,” he whispered against your lips before giving you a gentle kiss. After that he let go of you and stood up, ready to leave the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you asked and watched as he turned to you again and let his gaze glide over you, full of renewed desire.

“I'll get you something to wear. I'm definitely not letting you go like this.”

2024 notreallythatlost

[kamaluhkhan]

YOUR SWEETHEART PSYCHOPATHIC CRUSH !

pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader word count: 5.7k chapter summary: while spending your summer at the ackerman's estate, you and levi become slightly obsessed with each other despite mikasa being very clear she doesn't want you to fuck her cousin. warnings: alcohol, smoking, slight enemies to lovers dynamic, kinda rough smut (18+!!), oral (f+m receiving), unprotected period sex, mentions of blood, yearning, religious imagery/references, morally ambiguous protagonist with unclear motivations, eat the rich vibes....essentially very saltburn inspired so...yeah author's note: been having levi brainrot all summer and this is the result hope y'all enjoy ♡

♪: the louvre by lorde

you weren’t in love with him. 

picture levi ackerman on a gilded summer day. shimmering, sweaty skin. designer sunglasses and overpriced flip flops. mouth red and sticky from the popsicle melting in his hand. sharp jawline. sharper tongue.

you understood why people loved him, of course — and so many did. 

he saw through them, and they wanted to be seen by him. 

picture levi ackerman at a busy pub on a friday night, the most expensive whiskey in front of him. one eyebrow quirked, silver piercing disappearing beneath his hairline. grey-blue eyes watching carefully. interested. suspicious.

he was dangerous;

picture levi ackerman on a hot, midsummer night. on his knees, canines sparkling in the moonlight. blood on his chin, between his fingers. he’s wearing pristine silk pyjamas that will soon become stained with grass and dirt and other unspeakable things. 

beautiful, of course;

picture levi ackerman in a marble bathtub, skin wet and soapy. defined muscles and intricate tendons that could have been carved from marble, too. smelling of citrus and bergamot.

and compassionate, somehow. 

picture levi ackerman handing someone a cigarette, heart beating fast after a heated argument. long, slender fingers and a silver crested ring. black stars etched across the skin of his hand, similar to his cousin’s. 

you loved him. 

picture levi ackerman across a bountiful breakfast table. he pries open a ripe fig, reaches over for some tea. as always, he holds his cup from the top. burgundy bruises in the shape of someone’s lips decorate his neck, disappear under the collar of his shirt. 

you loved him.

picture levi ackerman, preening as if for a portrait they’d hang in an art gallery. taking a slow drag of his cigarette, backlit by the sun shining in from grand windows, framing him like a halo. 

but, were you in love with him?

it’s a sticky, sultry summer — the summer mikasa first brings you to paradis. 

with each day that passes, slow and sweltering, june gradually melts away in the blistering heat, but july lingers. 

time passes differently when your life is filled with luxurious nothing. 

mikasa always had friends over, all of whom had their own summer houses nearby. you recognized them from school. work, actually — they were frequent customers at scout’s coffee.

there was historia reiss (oat vanilla latte), who was family friend to the ackermans and twice as rich; annie leonhart (double shot of espresso), who grew up next door; eren jager (black coffee) whom mikasa had gotten back together with at the end of year banquet; and, jean kirstein (cappuccino with extra foam), one of eren’s frat brothers who seemed to notice you more now that you were out of your emerald green uniform and instead squeezed into a very revealing bathing suit mikasa had given you to wear. 

she’d been doing that a lot since you arrived to paradis: giving you last year’s dress to wear at dinner, a blouse that didn’t fit her right, a skirt she wore once that she thought you would look so good in, trust her.

you’re sure it was a coincidence that jean only took interest in you now. 

“oy!” jean whistles your name from across the water. “enjoying the view?” 

you stop your task to look at him, but your eyes quickly wander.

you are, in fact, enjoying the view. on the other side of the pool, levi ackerman (no coffee, just earl grey tea) lounges on a pool chair. his pale skin shimmers under the afternoon sun. levi’s mouth is stained, red and sticky from the popsicle melting in his hand. 

levi, whom mikasa had already deemed off limits. he was family, she said, and you were her friend. it wouldn't be right, she said.

she might not be too thrilled to find out how much you wanted to run your tongue over levi’s lips and underneath his jawline, chase the sweet popsicle stains with the salty sweat on his skin.

“instead of painting mikasa’s nails, you should paint me like one of your french girls sometime,” jean continues, lifting his prada sunglasses just to wink at you. he then goes back to his conversation with eren, the two of them talking animatedly in the shallow end while sipping their beers.

oblivious or not to your staring, levi seems too busy devouring another gothic novel — last week was frankenstein by mary shelley. this week is oscar wilde’s the picture of dorian gray. he’s shirtless, wearing designer sunglasses, overpriced flip flops and board shorts. in his day-to-day summer outfit, an entirely new expanse of skin is on display: a sword tucked into his forearm; angel wings sprouting from his shoulders, almost golden under the sun’s rays; flowers and thorns blooming between his ribs; a snake slithering across his hip bone. 

mikasa clicks her tongue, a telltale sign that she’s impatient for you to get back to work, so you do.

“so, here’s the thing: eren told me than jean likes you,” mikasa says once you finish with her left hand and start on her right.

annie snorts. she’s one chair over, clad in a light blue bikini, suntanning with her eyes closed yet very much engaged with the gossip at hand. “you think? he’s been drooling over her since the start of summer. i’m surprised he hasn’t made a move yet.” 

“well, apparently, he’s been waiting for you to make the first move.”

you bite back a scoff. “why?”

“he likes to be chased, sometimes,” mikasa explains. “it’s a game to him.” 

“i don’t know. i’m not really looking to play any games,” you lie, thankful that she let you borrow one of her many pairs of vintage sunglasses as they hide how your eyes instinctively flick over to levi. 

“come on!” mikasa pouts. “jean would be, like, the hottest summer fling. he’s smart and sexy and definitely knows how to show someone a good time.” a sober mikasa would have never said that — eren would hate his girlfriend talking about another guy like that — but she reaches over to grab her second margarita, smudging the fresh polish on her thumb, and takes a long gulp before adding: “you should go for it. right, guys?”

“you should totally go for it!” historia encourages, leaning over the other side of annie to nod at you enthusiastically. “jean is such a catch.”

“heard he’s good in bed, too,” annie adds. “so, yeah. go for it.”

“right,” mikasa smiles, satisfied. “it’ll be good for you.”

it’ll be good for you. 

you didn’t even want to think about what mikasa meant by that, however well-intentioned. 

the truth is that you had arrived to the ackerman’s sprawling estate with a hand-me-down suitcase, one old swimsuit, and a bitterness buried in your throat. 

mikasa had invited you because she pitied you, the poor scholarship student working at the cafe she and the others frequented. all you had to do was comfort her after another argument with her flighty boyfriend eren jaeger, and suddenly the two of you were the best of friends. inseparable, even when spring finals bled into summer break.

friends is a generous word, really. she was your golden ticket, you were her charity case.

what’s that saying about the road to hell?

it’s paved with good intentions.

you wonder what that means for the road to paradise, then. 

“just promise me you’ll consider it? at least give it a chance? please?” mikasa looks at you with those naive, hopeless romantic eyes. she wants this for you, and you have to keep her happy if you want to stay in this paradise for a little longer. 

“okay,” you concede. “i’ll think about it.” 

when you glance across the pool once more, levi is gone. 

SPRING SEMESTER. 

amid the chaos of students rushing across campus, all you could focus on was useless clicking. 

click.

click.

nothing. not even a goddamn spark.

served you right, buying a lighter from the dollar store. 

“need a light?”

levi’s voice had a deep baritone, one that might have been calming if the two of you hadn’t spent the past hour bickering. he argued that caravaggio’s painting of judith beheading holofernes was more sophisticated than any other rendition; you challenged him, stating that artemisia gentileschi’s work was more powerful — cathartic, even — and therefore a better representation of the story.

erwin smith, the professor leading your art history seminar, urged the two of you to stay focused on the class material, but between you and levi — it always got personal. 

you couldn’t afford the textbook, so how could you know anything about art? 

his family bought his way into the university, so how could he know anything about anything? 

so on and so forth. razor-sharp insults and sarcasm that dripped from your tongues like honey, the other always eager to lap it up like a starving dog. 

if there was one thing you could count on from then on, it was levi providing a snarky comment or underhanded joke meant to remind you that you were only a guest in the aristocratic world mikasa pulled you into, and for you to defend yourself as best you could through equally cutting remarks.

it was like that ever since mikasa dragged you into the group earlier in the semester.

everyone was already a few drinks in at the pub when you walked in behind her. the most expensive whiskey was sitting in a crystal glass in front of levi. he quirked one eyebrow at you, silver piercing disappearing beneath his hairline. grey-blue eyes watching carefully — interested, suspicious — as mikasa introduced you.

it was exhausting. a little exhilarating, too, but not enough to keep you from sliding down to the ground, back against the cold limestone wall, knees pressed to your chest.

“not from you,” you told him. you expected him to leave you alone, grant you a minute to compose yourself.

instead, levi sat down next to you, legs stretched out because he knew the crowd would bend around him. you listened as he lit his own cigarette on the first try, handing it to you without taking a drag. 

long, slender fingers and a silver crested ackerman ring. black stars etched on the skin of his hand, similar to the ones mikasa has.

you couldn’t help but stare; levi ackerman had that effect on people. 

it was almost unfair how attractive he was. all he had to do was lounge against an old building, dark hair with a sharp undercut and eyebrow piercing glinting in the late afternoon sun, to give michaelangelo’s david a run for his money. 

you dug your nails into your palm to keep yourself from accepting his offer. there was always a price to kindness, especially with people like him. 

after a few moments, levi rolled his eyes. he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, just for show.

“it’s not poisoned or anything. i wouldn’t do that. not to you, at least.” 

you weren’t convinced, but smoke curled around his words. when it hit your nostrils, you had to give in.

“god,” you practically moaned as warmth filled your lungs; your heart rate eased as you finally got your vice. levi let out something of a choke. his cheeks became slightly flushed.

it must have been your imagination. levi ackerman did not get flustered.

he cleared his throat, your fingers brushing against each other when he accepted the cigarette you handed back to him.

“mika says i’ve projected certain….insecurities onto you.” 

mikasa had changed her major three times already, and the one she’d settled on then was psychology. her new pastime was psychoanalysing the people around her, depending on which chapter was being covered that week. 

“she says i should apologize for —”

“being a dick?”

“yeah, i guess.” 

it wasn’t an apology. he just looked at you with his signature, disinterested gaze. 

“okay.” you wouldn’t give him forgiveness, anyways. 

“can i ask you something, then? without you biting my head off?”

a pause.

“fine,” levi responded. 

“what insecurities?”

another pause. he twisted the ring on his finger, almost nervously. 

levi ackerman did not get nervous, but maybe he wasn’t used to letting his guard down. 

the silence stretched between you.

“let’s just say that i’m not as blue-blooded as i try to seem,” he finally said.

you turned your head to examine levi ackerman: ironed button-down rolled up to his elbows, showing off elaborate tattoos that must have cost a fortune. brown leather satchel engraved with his initials. shiny new rolex.

“oh. could’ve fooled me.”

levi laughed, stiff and hollow. you could taste the bitterness from his lips when it was your turn with the cigarette, and instinctively licked your own. 

“you more than anyone should know: that’s kind of the point.” 

it was the way he said it that got you. his voice just above a whisper. protecting his secret — and, by proxy, yours. 

you gnawed the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste copper. 

it never occurred to you that you might not have been the only outsider. 

there might have been reasons why levi remained on the edge of the group, a brooding mystery to most of them, why you were the only one levi bothered to argue with. there were reasons why he didn’t skip class or get blackout drunk on weekdays like the others, why he was always so pristine, so perfect, so composed. 

“look, i’m not a bad person. it’s just —”

“sometimes you have to bite,” you finished his sentence. “you’re angry at the world, and you know that the wrong person might take everything away if you step out of line and let that anger slip through.”

it was a coping mechanism; one wired within you, too, even if it sometimes manifested in different ways. you didn’t need a textbook to recognize that. 

“yeah.” 

you could tell he was trying his best to hide his reaction, but you knew — by the sudden glint in his eye, the slight relaxing of his jaw. 

levi ackerman did not let his guard down, but there you were, recognizing the hunger inside him as your own.

“well, i don’t care if you bite,” you promised. “just don’t be surprised if i bite back.” 

the corners of his lips curled into a smirk, matching your own.

“i’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

you let the time pass, let ash fall from the smouldering cigarette you shared until it was down to the quick. the sun was hidden behind the lecture hall by then, and the quad was quiet. only you and levi remained.

“i should get to my next class,” levi informed, breaking the comfortable silence you had unexpectedly built. he got up swiftly, although he was likely already late. 

“see you around.” you caught a flash of silver where he was just sitting. you grabbed it, and held it up. “don’t forget your lighter.”

he flicked his eyes towards the object in your hand, and he frowned. 

“keep it.”

“i – i can’t.”

“it’s fine. just take it.”

“i don’t need your handouts, levi,” you snapped. you remembered the time he had teased you for wearing one of mikasa’s blouses, warning you that her handouts aren’t enough to make you pass as one of them.

levi winced, clearly remembering too. “consider it a gift for being — what did you call me before?”

“a dick.”

“right. anyways, you’d be doing me a favour,” levi continued. “i’ve been wanting to get rid of this one; got a better one waiting for me at home.”

you would’ve continued pushing back, but it was too late. levi was already walking away. 

levi looked back once and winked at you. you let the cool metal lighter burn through your skin.

apparently, trust fund kids suck at monopoly. especially after a few bottles of wine taken from their parents’ cellar.

they don’t really have a strategy, and those who did…well, it can’t beat yours.

you secure property left and right, make deals, and, yeah, screw people over until you’re the only one remaining with any candy-colored bills. by the end, you’re drunk off pinot noir and a high on the euphoria of winning this little, insignificant game. 

“no fair!” jean whines. “how’d you do that?”

“a magician never reveals her secret,” you hum. 

“what if i asked nicely?” 

you shake your head with a slight smile, leaning over to grab the last of the pretzels as a cover for getting jean’s hand off your thigh. he’d become bolder in the past few days in his flirtations; you, in all fairness, gave as well as you got — lingering eyes, purposeful touching, flirty banter. 

levi, sitting across from you, sips his drink calmly. 

“maybe you just underestimated her,” he suggests. 

“hell yeah, he did.” historia gives you an enthusiastic high five.

“i did not underestimate her.” jean rolls his eyes. “it’s just, i didn’t expect her to —”

“ — have a strategy that might outwit you, of all people?” levi mocks.

“put your teeth away, ackerman,” jean huffs. “i’m just saying — i’m a business major.”

“you did fail econ 200 twice, jean,” eren points out. 

“you’re lucky daddy kirstein payed off the professor so you didn’t have to take it a third time,” levi quips, earning a scowl from jean. 

“don’t get me started, you underground piece of — ” 

“okay, good game everyone!” mikasa interjects, so loud her words bounced off the walls. the ackerman’s ‘cozy’ den is just as grand as any other room, large with signature tiled floors and marble columns. she turns to you and jean, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “why don’t the two of you go get more snacks, and the rest of us will decide on a movie?”

as everyone else follows mikasa to the home theatre, the board game now forgotten, you and jean head to the kitchen.

“my dad didn’t pay the professor off, for the record,” jean says as you start refilling bowls. he leans against the counter, watching you. “he paid for a tutor. i mean, i had to pass the class, right? if i’m going to take over my dad’s real estate company. there’s nothing wrong with a little help.”

you smile like you mean it. 

“of course not.” 

and that seems to pacify jean, until he bluntly asks: 

“is something happening between you and levi?” 

you freeze. “why would you say that?”

jean walks around the large kitchen island, stopping in front of you. 

“he just seems…protective over you.”

“nothing’s happening,” you swallow the lump in your throat, unable to say more. “nothing’s happening between me and levi.” 

if you keep saying it, maybe it will become true. maybe the tension will evaporate, and the fire in the pit of your stomach will die out, and you will be able to give mikasa what she wants.

jean watches you through thick lashes, hands creeping over your hips. playing the part, you throw your arms around his neck, fingers threading through auburn hair.

“good. because this dress is incredible.”

it’s mikasa’s dress. gucci, spring collection from the year before.

“jean,” you whisper his name like you want him. 

jean kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, slides a hand underneath the dress you wore. whispers again how incredible the dress was, how good you would look on your knees for him later.

you feel nothing. it’s fine.

you squeeze your eyes shut and, ignoring your guilty conscience, imagine a certain raven-haired boy in jean’s place. it works fine, allowing you to deepen the kiss, but then jean presses his thigh between your legs, and his stubble itches against your cheek.

fuck. you don’t want this. 

lightheaded, you rip away from jean’s grip and place a hand on the counter next to you to steady yourself. you swallow as much air as you can, but still feel terribly breathless.

“everything okay?”

of course, it’s levi. he came to inform the two of you that cruel intentions was decided on (a message from mikasa), and to tell you to hurry the fuck up with the snacks (a message from eren).

jean smirks as he walks past your raven-haired boy and winks at you before he leaves the room.

levi is the one who helps you bring everything to the home theatre. he doesn’t say another word to you all night.

the only time you can truly be at peace in paradis is late at night, looking out into the dark green nothing. 

it became a habit of yours, going out to smoke when you figured everyone was asleep. you’d formed an attachment to a particular stone bench next to a statue of some melancholy mythological woman (persephone, maybe?), and parked yourself there every night to look up at the stars. 

quiet. limitless. alone.

even then, there’s always someone watching.

“nice lighter.”

those are the first words levi has spoken to you in the past week that aren’t delivered like he’s getting his teeth pulled. 

“nice shirt, too.”

you look down, remembering that you’re not wearing the nightgown mikasa had given you when she saw your actual pyjamas: a pair of old boxers and an oversized marvin the martian t-shirt. 

that’s one thing you can’t bring yourself to give up in all this, apparently: the soft, worn cotton that feels like home. 

the other, unfortunately, takes a seat next to you. you should tell him to leave you alone, but you find yourself wanting him to stay.

he reaches out for the cigarette. you pass it to him like a moth to a flame, body betraying mind, knowing deep down that it might cause you to burn in the end. you watch as he inhales deeply, then tilts his head up as if sending the smoke as an offering to the full moon.

the quiet, formerly comforting, now makes your skin crawl. 

“so….what’d you get on the final?” that’s the best you can do in terms of small talk with levi ackerman. your heart stops, when you realize your mistake — 

the reality of what happened the last time you studied together.

levi, for his part, doesn’t bring that up. he hands the cigarette back to you.

“97. you?”

“98.”

levi whistles. “better go celebrate with your new boyfriend.”

“he’s not my — ” 

you bite your tongue. 

careful. 

you want to bite that smirk off his lips.

it’s been a while, but he’s trying to rile you up.

you wonder what levi saw in you that made him think this was how to understand you: by throwing a punch and seeing if you could match his fight. 

the truth is that jean isn’t anything to you. nothing had happened after that moment in the kitchen, and you wanted to keep it that way. you know that levi is perceptive enough to notice how you subtly distance yourself from jean, despite mikasa’s efforts and jean’s once again one-sided flirtations. 

(you have a clear image of levi at breakfast a few days ago, prying open a ripe fig and holding his cup of tea from the top, burgundy bruises in the shape of someone’s lips decorating his neck and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. historia had thrown a party next door, and you had the profound displeasure of watching levi make out with someone who wasn’t you. as soon as your eyes met his from across the room, levi removed himself from the person sucking on his collarbone. you weren’t sure it was a coincidence.)

“so kirstein isn’t your boyfriend?” 

“what does it matter to you?”

“are you just hooking up, then?”

“why do you care, levi?” you snap.

it was dark, and you felt levi shuffle closer to you. you turned your head away, refusing to acknowledge the weight of his gaze on your body. 

“i think you know why.” his voice nothing but a burning whisper in your ear.

levi, the clever brat, after giving you the cold shoulder, is not only trying to rile you up — he’s teasing you.

god, you were losing your mind, playing levi’s game, when he should have been losing yours.  

you felt a fresh kind of heat spread through your body.

“whatever.”

you rip the cigarette from levi’s fingers, careful to avoid skin touching skin, snuff it out, and make all the moves to leave.

“wait.” he commands, grabbing your wrist before you can get too far. “let’s start again. i know you heard me earlier tonight.” 

you clench your jaw, still standing. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(your bedroom is the closest to his, with only a bathroom with thin walls separating the two. earlier, you swore he was pleasuring himself to the rhythm of your name, but when you entered the bathroom to check, all you found was water swirling down the bathtub drain.) 

“i saw you.”

“what do you want, levi?” his name like poison on your tongue, fire in your throat.

levi doesn’t say anything for a bit. 

crickets chirp in the distance. 

neither of you move. 

“i think about that night all the time.” levi swallows, hard. “that night in the library.”

(during finals season, late night at the library, when you were both frustrated and bone-tired and in need of release, levi fucked you in a secluded corner. two fingers in, knuckle deep. you returned the favour after reaching your high, kneeling down on the carpet to taste him. he was wiping away his own cum from the corner of your mouth just as someone walked over to examine the shelves for a book on the italian renaissance. it was careless, and dangerous, and neither of you spoke of it again.) 

mikasa made her expectations for you clear, and you need to please her, so you bit back your desire, swallowed whatever spark might have been between you and levi, and carried on as acquaintances because you couldn’t really afford to let it catch.

except, levi’s looking at you like he did then, hooded eyes, dark blue with desire. 

he lets go of your wrist and you already miss his touch. 

so, the reckless part of you stays, sits closer to him, tries not to melt when his silk pyjamas brush against your naked thigh. 

“i think about your mouth.” he brings a tentative hand to cup your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “those pretty little moans, the way you said my name….” 

you can’t help it; you brush your fingers in the junction between his neck and shoulder, and find his pulse strong, but steady. 

“levi,” you sigh, and he shudders.

“fuck, just like that.” 

you and levi are so close now, you aren’t sure the air you’re breathing is your own. 

“it kills me, that you’re only a room away —” 

“i think about your fingers,” you finally confess. you lick your lips, grazing levi’s thumb in the process. “i think about the way you taste, how full you made me feel.”

levi sucks in a sharp breath. by now, he’s snaked his other hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing shapes onto your stomach.

“kirstein might murder me.”

you nod slowly. 

“mikasa might never speak to me again.”

“you’ve been driving me insane all year,” levi justifies. “all fucking year. when mika brought you to paradis, i thought we’d have all summer….”

he scrapes his nails against your ribcage, wandering further into dangerous territory.

“i guess we better make up for lost time, then.” you suggest. his hand stills, eyes locked on yours. “don’t you think, levi?”

levi answers by surging forward, and kissing you with such ferocity, he might as well be a man starved. teeth on teeth on tongue. you tangle your hands into his hair, pull on some strands just to see what he'd do. he groans, and retaliates by biting down on your bottom lip, hard enough that you taste the metallic tang of blood mixed with the remnants of minty toothpaste on his lips. you whimper and pull away slightly. he holds your face firmly between his two hands, so you can’t go too far.

"sorry." levi smirks, and you know he doesn't really mean it. 

you don’t care. you tug his hair some more and crash your mouth back to his, let your tongue trace every one of his teeth as if committing to memory.

you’re jolted back to reality when his hand dips beneath the waistband of your underwear. 

“shit. wait.” you push levi away and need a second to appreciate the state he’s in: raven hair a mess of your own making, pupils blown wide as he watches you with greedy impatience. 

“what is it?” he presses when you take a second too long to explain.

“oh. it’s just,” a nervous laugh bubbles from your chest. you’ve craved this, craved him for so long, and it seems cosmically unfair that something else prevents you from satisfying your hunger. “i’m on my period.”

levi blinks at you. “so?”

you’re flustered, having to spell this out for him. “well, i guess we can’t really have sex, then?” you pause, watching as levi tilts his head. “i can suck you off if you want —

“what i want is to taste you,” levi states. “it’s lucky for you, i’m a vampire.” 

you would have bet all your money that levi was just fucking with you, ready to leave you to tend to yourself for the night. 

it’s a bet you would have promptly lost, seeing as levi slides to his knees and lodges himself between your legs.

“if you’re not comfortable with it, i don’t have to.” 

your teeth catch your bottom lip, heart almost beating out of your chest.

you could back out now, suck it up and get on your knees for jean instead, gush to mikasa about it later and keep making her believe that you’re following her word like scripture. 

but — it’s just so sincere. sweet, almost, how levi tilts his head up at you, waiting for your command like you’re a deity he’s dedicated his life to, willing to do anything and everything to prove his devotion. 

the final transgression, the nail in the coffin: 

you reach down to brush your fingers underneath his jawline and tell him it’s okay — that you want him.

levi sinks his teeth into the flesh of your thigh, soothing his tongue over the sting before removing your shorts and underwear.

he has his way with you, bringing you over the edge not once, but twice with his sharp tongue and skilled fingers. you bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming, until it’s just too damn much and you have to push levi’s head away. 

levi looks up at you again, this time with a devilish grin, canines sparkling in the moonlight. crimson on his chin, between his fingers. once spotless silk pyjamas are probably stained with grass and dirt and whatever wetness he’s gathered from you. 

maybe you should be on your knees, too, repent for the sin of crossing a line that was very clearly drawn, but you don’t care. 

you’re hot and sticky and overstimulated, and fuck if you aren’t entirely blissed out. 

levi confesses that wants, needs, to be inside you, so he carries you to his bedroom. you claw at the angel wings engraved on levi’s shoulder blades as he thrusts into you and sucks at your pulse point, your collarbone and chest.

“knew you’d feel like bliss, all tight and wrapped around me,” levi exhales, moving up to press his sweaty forehead to yours. “i’d call you angel, but we both know our friends would sentence us to hell for this. worth it though, right, baby?”

“fuck, levi,” you moan at the nickname, which encourages him to go faster. one of his hands moves to grip the pillow beside your head; you take the opportunity to angle your chin and run your tongue over the tattooed sword on his forearm, tasting salt. “so fucking worth it.”

you reach your climax when levi starts rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. he lets you ride out your high before pulling out of you, stroking himself a few times, and painting your stomach with his release. 

lingering in a post-orgasm haze, you take a few moments to look around. levi’s room is pristine, save for the dirty clothes you practically tore from each other’s bodies and the now ruined sheets. you’re about to close your eyes, but levi taps your cheek. 

“hey. you okay?”

“yeah,” you yawn, tracing a finger across the roses decorating his chest. “sorry about the mess.”

levi shakes his head. “don’t worry about that. i’ll do laundry tomorrow,” he assures. “but let’s get you cleaned up now, beautiful.”

it was such a rush at the beginning, between you and levi. now, the result of your… whatever you want to call it — obsession, violence, passion — sees the two of you sharing a bath.  the air thick with steam and smelling of citrus and bergamot. levi ackerman in a marble bathtub, skin wet and soapy after washing away blood and dirt. defined muscles and intricate tendons that could have been carved from marble, too.

he falls asleep in your bed, and you fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

in the morning, when you wake up, levi is sitting on your windowsill. backlit by the sun shining in, framing him with a halo, he takes a slow drag of his cigarette, preens for no one in particular as if for a portrait they’d hang in an art gallery. 

you’ve tried, multiple times, but could never quite capture his beauty. at least not with a regular hb pencil and flimsy sketchbook paper. you thought he deserved to be immortalised, all shadows and intense angles. maybe the louvre in paris or the uffizi in florence; displayed somewhere for all to admire, like renaissance portraits of italian nobles or ancient gods carved in stone, given sacrifices from starving peasants. 

levi represents everything you want to burn to a crisp.

and, yet.

levi notices you stirring.

he smiles at you (you’d sit in hell just for a glimpse of that rare, precious, levi ackerman smile) and murmurs a good morning, sweetheart (how is it possible that you can taste his words on your tongue, thick like honey and just as sweet?), all while looking at you like you were the work of art.

you feel something twist in your gut. 

you’re so, utterly fucked.

[kingdaddydaichi]

but like...

daichi slamming into you but SLOW. drawing his cock almost all the way out, moaning your name as his mouth falls open, your tight, creamy cunt sucking his fat dick so good before he snaps his hips flush with yours again.

daichi's coarse fingertips dimpling the plush of your hips with one hand as he grips the headboard w the other. his heavy balls are smacking against your clit, wet with your combined pre.

you arch your back for him, preen for him. you whimper his name like a pathetic whore in heat, presenting yourself to the most basic, carnal beast inside of him

and it fucking works.

daichi drapes his larger body over your back, the pressure of his weight only feeding into your impending orgasm. he wraps his fist around the longest part of your hair and insists that you cum for him. and who are you to deny your devoted husband and father of your children?

you obey, squeezing and squealing...clenching and crying out as you come apart around him, repeatedly telling him how much you love him.

"baby, you know i love you too," he huffs, slamming his hips against your ass with sharp, wet slaps of skin. "love you more than anything..." he almost sounds drunk now. "...so good, nhhn~ love you so much~" he groans, spilling his thick seed inside you as his trembling hips push hard against your bottom.

[fangswbenefits]

Smut writing tip:

Describe everything. It's the rare instance where more is actually better. You don't have to, obviously, but if you want that added layer of imagery and to help your readers immerse themselves more effectively, then try doing this.

Sure, you can simply write that you undid his pants or shirt, but what if you describe the act itself? How inherently intimate and sensual it can be? Just undoing the buttons one by one and see them react to their skin being slowly exposed for you.

Or how he tugs at the waistband of your pants and gentle teases it, hooking a finger inside... you know what he wants and he doesn't shy away from showing it to you.

To me, this makes all the difference and can turn a good smut into a delicious one!

[emmyrosee]

okay so osamu is such a good kisser like it’s UNFAIR!!! you’ll just be minding your own business finishing off an assignment or something and he gets so lovey seeing u work so hard and he just comes up to you, swings your chair round and pecks your lips but he can’t stop there so he makes out with you for like 10 mins and then your heads too fuzzy to actually remember to hand in the assignment, but dw samu reminds you to once he’s had his way with you

GOD AND HE ALWAYS LOVES KISSING YOU ITS SO AGGRESSIVE AND LOVING I HATE HIM.

It’s always like. Okay, so every time he pulls you in for a distracting kiss, he does this thing where he gently grips your chin and guides your face to look at him, leaning in for a kiss after, which obviously you take, because you love kissing osamu like breathing.

You could be there for pauses, it’s ridiculous.

The way his hands hold your cheeks, the way his thumb lazes over the warmth, his lips so plush you could fall asleep in such a relaxed position, you could stay for hours if he’d let you.

And he would let you. But he doesn’t have to.

He knows you’ll come right back for some more.

“How’s work baby?” He asks against your lips, biting his own when your eyes dart to them.

“‘S good.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you go away for like, 20 minutes?” You ask genuinely. “I have to focus and you’re a hinderance.”

He chuckles and stands up straight, “can’t help that you’re addicted.”

“I am not!”

“Are too!” He calls back down the hall.

And you’re not. You’re totally not.

The way you crawl into bed next to him a little bit later is for him, the way you tug on his shirt for his attention is for him, and the way you beam when he leans forward to continue where you two left off?

That’s strictly for him too.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[sxcret-garden]

Hmm well, Yunho x fingering or Yunho x giving oral?😌

Well usually i'd say fingering, but i actually had a Thought a while ago so imma say oral and elaborate... 👀

Your fingers are curling around his locks, tugging at his hair with each of his movements. You try to escape from his touch as the overstimulation is building up, wiggling your hips underneath him, but with his arms hooked under your thighs, Yunho has a tight grip on you and he pulls you closer.

"Yun..." you mutter desperately, shuddering at the skilled movements of his tongue against your core. His gaze finds your face, the desire in his look almost burning right through you. He hums in response, sending vibrations up your pussy and you throw your head back at the sensation, tugging on his hair sharply, which lures yet another groan out of him.

"Does it feel that good?" he asks, a teasing tone in his voice, and never once does he take his eyes off you. He doesn't want to miss a single reaction displaying on your face as he proceeds to suck on your clit, gently, and when you're almost there he lets go of it, and all that's left to feel for you is his hot breath against your skin.

"Yun...!" you call out his name, now urging him to keep going, and you don't miss the smirk he shoots you.

"What do you want, babe?" he asks. "My mouth? My fingers?" He places a chaste kiss to the inside of your thigh. "Or both?"

[sky-is-the-limit]

Most of the time you know how a Zoro or Sanji smut will unfold but Luffy smut? It hits different every single time.

[jadewritesficshere]

Wrecked

Eddie Munson x Reader

Content: oral (male receiving) slight sub!Eddie. Listen I just really wanna suck him

18+ only

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness in the room as the VHS shut off with a click. The light from the TV seemed harsh, jarring you from the quietness surrounding you. It woke you up from your sleepy state, heart thumping wildly as you realized you had fallen asleep against Eddie. Eddie, who talked a mile a minute and told you interesting facts while watching movies, who had gone silent almost an hour ago as you started to drift off. Eddie, who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, hand lazily drawing patterns on your arm where it rested. Your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. "Sorry," you yawned as you sat up," Did I fall asleep?"

Eddie blinked slowly before smiling," Don't worry 'bout it. You need to rest." You lazily smile at him as he stands up. He stretches slowly, joints popping that remind you that neither of you are near your teens anymore. He reaches his arms above his head in a stretch, shirt traveling up just enough to give you a sneak peak of his stomach. Pale skin that showed the stark colors of the dragon curled over the top of his belly button. The dragon that had it's mouth open as if it was blowing fire, fire that actually was pink scars courtesy of the demobats. The scars that he always had a different story for when people saw ("I got attacked by a bear." "A witch cursed me." "I didn't eat my vegetables." "I used to defuse bombs").

Your eyes caught on his belly button, the stupid piercing he got claiming "a dragon had to have a hoard". The blue light from the tv causing the jewelry to glint, showing a kaleidoscope of rainbows in the opal gemstones. Your breath caught at the smattering of hair that trailed down from his belly button. Down to the band of his sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Plaid boxers peeking over the hem of his pants obscured your view of the slight v shape of his hips. The TV light providing the perfect amount of light and shadow to show the slight definition of his abs he had gained from long hours as a mechanic.

The sting from biting your lip pulled you from your casual perusal of Eddie's frame. Eddie who hadn't even noticed and was waving his hands around talking as he stared off at the wall,"- but those are just rumors. I mean if they do make a movie, it better be close to the book. No creative liberties. I want to see the book come to life, ya know? I want the dwarves to have full beards, especially the women and-"

You stand up abruptly," Shut the fuck up." Eddie pauses at your abrupt words and movement. Silence spans a few seconds as he notices the glimmer in your eyes," Excuse you?" You hum, running your eyes up and down his frame. Eddie was definitely a man, no longer the boy you had met in high school. He had filled out more, had some scruff on his jawline. His sweatpants had a hole in his knee and there was a stain on his shirt, but he had never looked more beautiful to you. And you had never wanted to fuck him more.

Eddie tilted his head slightly, untamed and frizzy curls bouncing as he tried to decipher the look in your eye. "I will gladly listen to this conversation, but I can't pay attention right now. Not when you're," you wave your hand gesturing to him," that!" Eddie scoffs," Excuse you? That?." One step is all it takes to get in his space, Eddie instinctively taking a step back.

You push on his chest, firm beneath your open palms, causing him to stumble back into the couch. He lands with a grunt and looks up at you with a look of exasperation. He goes to open his mouth to say what you're sure is a snarky remark, but all thoughts leave his head as you grab his knees spreading them open and kneeling in front of him. His jaw drops as he stares at you between his legs. You bat your lashes at him in what you hope is a seductive look, but let's be honest, both you and Eddie suck at flirting. You trail one hand up from his knee, barely touching as your fingers dance their way up his thigh. His cheeks flush, a beautiful dusty pink that spreads down his neck towards his chest. You wonder how far that blush goes as you lift the hem of his shirt.

Eddie is staring at you, frozen in time. You clearing your throat as you tug on his shirt knocks him from his reverie. "Yeah, okay, fuck uh yea." He leans forward enough to pull the shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the expanse of tattooed skin you see. You lean in, trying to decide where to start. You look up through your eyelids at him, slowly licking the happy trail, that definitely made you happy. The image of you licking his skin, peering up at him through your lashes, was burned into Eddie's retinas. Eddie's knuckles were white as he gripped the couch cushions. His stomach flexed unintentionally at the warmth of your tongue. The small whimper he let out fueled your desire, heat pooling low in your stomach. You nip and suck at his hips, one hand resting on his thigh, the other curled around his back to bring him closer to you. You pulled back after adding a lovely red mark that you know will fade to a bruise.

You can't believe you had fallen asleep next to this man, now the only thoughts involving a bed also involved cardio. You lightly trail a finger over the prominent bulge in his pants, earning a sharply inhaled breath and a buck of his hips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he groans, voice lower then you've ever heard. You lick your lips as your hands reach for the hem of his pants and-

"Wait!" Eddie startles you, and you glance up at his wrecked face. "Huh?" You blink a few times starting to pull back," Do you not..?" "No! No I do!" Eddie clears his throat and grabs the pillow next to him," I just...you should be comfortable..." His face flushes as he holds the pillow between you two, causing you to chuckle. You grab the pillow and put it under your knees, even if you don't need it. "Thanks baby. You're so thoughtful." Eddie preens under the praise, looking smug. Your hands return to his waist band, tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts his hips to help and-

You've never thought a dick to be pretty before. Sure, you've seen some good ones but this? He's long, curved slightly to the right. Precum beading at the top of a head that is flushed so red it's almost purple. A prominent vein trailing the underside of his dick that you want to lick up. Curls around the base that were trimmed but still unruly. The tension is thick as you stare at his dick, wondering where to start. He twitches under your heavy gaze. "C'mon, don't make me wait.." Eddie mumbles. "You'll take what I give you, and you'll be thankful." You snap back, watching the man pout slightly. For all his bravado and extroverted demeanor, he has no power here and he knows it.

But you decide to have mercy on him as you flatten your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you don't really care. Yes, it feels good for him, but this is also for your pleasure. You swirl your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essence. Eddie's hand finds the back of your head instinctively, not using any real force or grip. When you fully envelope his tip with your warm mouth and suck, all coherent thoughts of his are gone. He barely can remember his own name. One of your hands holding his hips back so he can't thrust up, the other wrapped around his dick slowly moving up and down.

Eddie sits there babbling nonsense, he never could stay quiet for long. And you wouldn't want him to, his moans and groans like music to your ears. You pull off of him earning a whine. Eddie's face is flushed, bangs stuck to his forehead, a slight sweat broken out on him. He looks down at you with those big brown eyes like you just kicked a dog. "Please? Fuck, please baby? Don't stop."

You smile up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You can feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin. You could make him beg. Make him wait. But he looks so good like this, you want to see him completely blissed out. You inhale deeply before lightly putting the tip back in your mouth. Eddie has no time to mutter a thank you before you fully sink down on him. Your nose coming flush with the hair you admired earlier, taking him deep in your throat without gagging. "Oh fuckfuckfuck," Eddie pants above you, lost in the feeling of you. You hollow out your cheeks and suck, bobbing up and down along his length. He was a twitching writhing mess beneath you. You lightly palm at his balls, adding enough pressure to have Eddie moan. It didn't take him long before he came with a loud groan, hips bucking without a pattern. You swallowed it to the best of your ability, some leaking out and dripping down your chin.

When he was done, you pulled off him with a pop. Eddie's chest heaved as he panted above you. Eddie looked down from the ceiling, not sure when he had thrown his head back in ecstasy. You swipe the cum off your chin before licking your fingers, eyes locked with his. "Jesus Christ," he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a chuckle. You hum and smile up at him. Eddie lightly grasps your biceps, tugging you to get up,"Not sure what brought that on, but I think its time for me to return the favor. Get up here."

[imrllytootiredforthis]

i would **** this man's **** until he ******** **** ** ******* **** and then i would **** *** ** **** ** ** ******* **** **** ** **** **** *** ********* *** ******* *** *** ****

[zorrasucia]

congratulations on 300 followrs!

would like to request "snowed in" trope for "this mess was yours"-verse. headcanon or deleted scene :)

Thank you, Anon! I love this trope so much 💜����

Made this half fluff and half smut, because I think we're at a point where they've definitely caught feelings but if they fuck at the end of it there's still plausible deniability 😉

I hope you like it!

Send a request for my 300 followers celebration! 🥳

this mess was yours (now your mess is mine) - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Rating: Explicit (1.2k)

Tags: Smut, Set two(ish) years before the present aka the New York years, Porn with a little plot, Fluff, Friends with Benefits, Virgin!Carmy (my beloved), Snowed In, Domesticity, P in V Sex, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

You found Carmy smoking, sitting on the staircase of your building with his coat on.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You had tried his door earlier and imagined he was trapped back at the restaurant, and what a nightmare that would be for him.

Carmy looked up at you, pale from the cold.

"J-just smoking a cigarette," he shrugged, teeth chattering slightly.

"Look, I know the lease says that you can't smoke inside the apartment but, like, it's a snow storm, I don't think the landlord would kick you out if he found out," you reasoned. Carmy remained silent. "Plus, I think the staircase still counts as 'indoors' for legal purposes."

"Would you believe me if I told you it's warmer here than inside my apartment?"

You tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

"Heating's busted. Landlord said he'd fix it this week. I spend so little time in there that I honestly didn't care," he shivered.

"Until we got snowed in and you have no job to go to," you finished for him.

"Exactly."

"Come on," you gestured upstairs.

~

You put a blanket around Carmy's shoulders and sat next to him on your couch. You grabbed his hands, exhaling on them to warm them up.

"Do you want to take a warm shower? Should I make tea?" you asked, worried.

"I'm fine," he repeated, smiling as you caressed the hair by his temples. He had some color back on his face. "Thank you, though."

"Okay," you agreed, lying back on the couch, bringing him with you. His face settled on your chest, his hair tickled your chin, and his weight on top of you was comforting.

"What were you planning on doing today?" he asked after a while.

"Not much," you replied, fingers carding through his curls. "Movies and napping, probably."

"Sounds amazing," he exhaled, his breath tickling your chest.

You smiled, holding him close.

"Why didn't you come over earlier, Carm?"

"I didn't know if you'd be in the mood," he shrugged, looking embarrassed.

"We don't have to fuck every time we see each other," you reasoned, realizing as you were saying it, that you had at least made out every single time you visited each other's apartments.

"Oh," he scrunched his face and paused. "Alright. Can I stay here for a while then?"

"I would be very offended if you didn't," you said sternly, playing it up for humor.

He chuckled, snuggling his face between your breasts and running his hands over your sides, soothing, sleep inducing...

You woke up to the smell of cinnamon and the sound of butter sizzling on a pan. You climbed up on the counter to watch Carmy cook, trying not to think about the time he had eaten you out on that same counter.

"I didn't have much in the pantry," you apologized.

"Stale bread makes for good french toast," he replied simply.

"It's been ages since I had breakfast for dinner," you beamed, watching Carmy pour some coffee in a mug and hand it to you. "Thank you."

He smiled in return, looking at ease and comfortable as he cooked, and you wondered whether he was like that in every single kitchen or just yours.

~

"S-O-U," you spelled, tracing the letters on Carmy's fingers.

"Sense of urgency," Carmy said, voice soft and eyes closed.

You were lying in your bed, warm, you in your pijamas and him in his t-shirt and boxers. You had never had the time and leisure to see his tattoos properly, now you were relishing it. Your fingers caressed the drawings gently, the movie playing in the background long forgotten.

"Seven seven three?" you asked, fingers curling around Carmy's bicep.

"It's the, uh, the Chicago area zip code."

"Ever think of going back?" you asked carefully.

"I don't-" he covered his face. "I don't think I can. All the things that made me leave are still there, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it."

He reached out to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers.

"Can I sleep over?" he asked.

"Course you can, Carm," you smiled softly.

"Thanks."

~

You woke up to the streets below completely covered in snow and Carmy sleeping soundly by your side.

You took him in, the sight of Carmy relaxed and with nowhere to go for once in his life. You made yourself some coffee and let him rest until late morning.

Once he started stirring, you climbed on top of him, waking him up by kissing his neck.

"Morning," he mumbled, running his hands through your hair.

"You look so good in the morning, Carm," you said, kissing the side of his face, feeling him harden underneath you.

"Fucking hell," he drawled. "I know you said we didn't have to fuck every time but-"

"Yeah. I was thinking the same," you giggled and started grinding your core against his erection.

"Fuuuck. You're going to kill me," he arched his neck into the pillow, squeezing your ass as you straddled him, keeping you in place.

You got rid of your sleep shirt unceremoniously, his eyes and hands suddenly all over your breasts.

"You look good in the morning," he emphasized, enjoying the sight of your body in broad daylight, sitting up to bury his face between your breasts. "Need to fuck you."

"Please," you whined.

He rolled you over, your head hitting the pillow, Carmy hovering above you. His tattooed hands took off your shorts and underwear, eyeing your pussy greedily. He kissed all over and licked between your folds, enough to have you flushed and ready, but not enough to make you come.

You moaned needily; the sight of him rolling on a condom on his cock made you writhe on the bedsheets with impatience.

"Please," you repeated.

You had all the time in the world, you knew, but his crooked smile told you that Carmy was enjoying edging you a little too much.

"Can I try something?" he asked.

"Anything," you grabbed at his ass, trying and failing to bring him closer. "Just- please."

He smiled wider, maneuvering your legs to rest on his shoulders, practically folding you in half as he pushed forward to enter your pussy.

"Jesus, fuck!" you blurted out as you felt him move inside, inch by inch, impossibly deep, his blue eyes keeping you grounded. "Oh."

"Good?" he asked, his forehead touching yours as he bottomed out.

"Shit, Carmy. So fucking good," you whined. His eyes crinkled with pride. "Definitely going to get a cramp in my leg at some point," you warned him with a giggle. "But it feels fucking good right now."

"Won't take long, I promise," he smiled against your lips.

He pounded into you, hard thrusts that made the bed shake and had you rolling your eyes.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned, his open mouth breathing into yours, his gold chain dangling invitingly.

You wanted to pull it, bring him towards you, hold his face, scratch his back... Overwhelmed, you reached back instead, grabbing at your pillow desperately.

"How am I so close already? Carmy, fuck!" you cried out.

"Touch yourself," he said and you obeyed him immediately, your middle finger pressing on your clit, pussy pulsing hard against his cock. "'m close too."

You giggled, writhing with pleasure.

"Gonna make me cum," you mumbled needlessly, just praising him. "Feel so perfect inside me."

"Yeah?" was all he could say before your pussy started fluttering around him, taking him over the edge, making him grunt and squeeze his eyes shut, losing all his restraint. "Shit."

"Yeah," you exhaled, canting and circling your hips to get every last drop of pleasure he could give you. "Carm..."

"Mmm?" he placed a tired kiss on your ankle.

"I'm glad you stayed over," you whispered.

"Me too."

~

@vyctorya

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

"I just want to suck your dick peacefully, is that too much to ask?"

"Merlin! That's, that's inappropriate talk!"

"What? Like you don't do similiar when I'm trying to work but you're grabbing my arse, calling me your magical cock-sheath—mmpph!" – Court Sorcerer Merlin and King Arthur

[Arthur knew he should've kept Merlin gagged, plugged, and prettily tied up in their chambers so he could finally focus on not being distracted by his warlock temptress. Well, not for long, he'd replace the wooden plug with himself soon enough.]

[shegetsburned]

himejima thoughts 彡 ♡ ⋆｡˚

one day, you stumble across gyomei’s secret collection of sculptures, and they are all different representations and angles of your body and face. he knows every inch by heart and you recognize his talent when passing your finger over one of the sculptures, you feel a bump where you have a scar, and another bump where your moles are. there’s not one little detail he omitted to include and you’re so flustered that he remembers all of you from that one time you were together. all of your curves, your imperfections, your lips, your ass, your breasts. it’s almost scary how every part of you is perfectly represented.

it’s one of his many ways to remember what you feel like between his hands since he can’t see you and it’s the hottest thing everrrr. he doesn’t even realize it-

[onlyseokmins]

Hiii, I've been thinking about a story where scoups is a teacher and yn a student 👀, I'd love to see you right sometime like that,,

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), college!au, tutor!au Warnings: lol okay slight bulge kink, kind of mirror sex, tiny sir kink, dirty talk, reader is hornknee okay and calls themselves a whore but lbr so is cheol, light spanking, mentions of fingering, squirting, omigod idrk just lmk if i missed smth as always 🫣 WC: this was meant to be just a simple lil thot idk 🥲 A/N: oops my fingers slipped anyways hi anon 😩 the cheolrot is strong here although tbh i personally don't feel comfy writing an actual teacher/student relationship explicitly so cheol's role is based on my position as a tutor/assistant but i hope you still enjoy this 🫡

"Thought you didn't pay attention to the professor's lectures," Seungcheol coos in your ear, "but look at you now. Listening so well for me."

You can't help but arch your back at his praise. But he clicks his tongue, placing a large hand over the bulge that's formed from his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Or maybe I was wrong."

"N-no, I'll behave... I pr-promise." Your teary eyes plead with his bespectacled gaze in the reflection of your vanity mirror when he shifts. Jostling you on his lap, threatening to make you cum on the spot or worse — urge you off. "Please!"

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir!"

He chuckles lowly. A finger that still glistens with the wetness after being deep inside your pussy tauntingly taps at the notes laid out in front of you.

"There we go. Now, tell me the correct answer, lovely. Or we can go back to just my fingers... hm, maybe nothing at all. You know getting my dick inside you is a privilege."

All you can do is moan prettily in response and agreement. Because it really is a true gift. Grades be damned, you think you've excelled in all areas of your life and academic career after achieving this accolade. Getting to fuck the dreamy tutor that always sits in the back of your classroom, beefy muscles unconsciously flexing from his crossed-arms posture. Glasses glinting, eyebrows furrowed as he listens to the professor drone on and on.

At least, that's what you thought Choi Seungcheol was doing. Quite the contrary, actually. His tongue plays with your dainty hoop earring as he whispers in your ear, smirk growing bigger at the depraved image all for him. One that he's imagined multiple times during the semester.

"I asked you a question."

"I... mhm — oh, fuck," you mewl as your walls continue to flutter pathetically around his hard length. "I... I can't!"

"Can't what? Can't stop yourself from cumming or can't answer?" He snarls out his first question before easing into a more mocking tone for the second. "Gorgeous baby too fucked out to give me a proper response?"

Your head hits his shoulder, tongue lolling. Seungcheol savors the way your chest heaves and the tight, low-cut shirt you're wearing showcases your tits just right for him to peer at without shame instead of glances in the classroom. All before he's suddenly bending you over, the side of your face smashed against the graphite scrawls of your notebook.

His hips snap aggressively and cause the vanity stand to bang repeatedly against the wall at the same tempo as his thrusts. Your cute makeup products shake in time, the pretty glass perfume vials threatening to fall. It would be a shame for them to break. Seungcehol adores the scent that wafts past him every day, the same one he's currently drowning in. Yet, he can't bring himself to stop, obsessed with the way your ass bounces against his pelvis to eagerly take every inch of his cock.

"Didn't even give me the right answer."

"'m sorry."

"No you're not," he laughs cruelly and swats at your lower cheeks, "but that's okay. This sick little pussy can make up for anything, can't it?"

"Y-yes, sir... anything!"

"Yeah?" Seungcheol slaps you again, yet the coldness of his rings is the only thing that actually stings. "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Better let me fuck you from now on. Stuff you full whenever I feel like it. Been dreaming far too long of this, you drive me insane. Gotta eat you out, taste you for real. Touch these tits... god, all the things we could do."

It makes your pride swell even if you're drooling like a whore and ruining the notes you tried to labor over intensely during class despite scandalous, wandering thoughts about Seungcheol. Something tells you he'll make sure you won't fail anyways so it doesn't matter when all you can think about is his nice, hard dick hitting all the right spots.

"Let you do anything."

He snickers. "Oh, but you haven't even heard all of it yet. The things I thought of when seeing you giggle with your friends all the time while sneaking looks at me. Had to try and not get so fucking hard when you bat your pretty eyelashes and ask another stupid question."

Those pretty eyelashes are fluttering rapidly now. You won't last long, already edged for a good hour prior. Wetness soaking your ruined thong even before Seungcheol agreeably showed up at your dorm to help tutor you. Basically throwing yourself at him after a few back-and-forth questions and a bit of not-much-needed seduction until he affirmed your verbal consent, fingers exploring your desperate cunt as he quizzed you on what was talked about in class earlier.

Your release hits as you cry out in delirium but he doesn't stop. Doesn't even slow down. In fact, he only speeds up. Fucking you through your orgasm with crazed, animalistic joy.

You welcome it though. Knees having given out a long time ago, you're grateful for the support of furniture despite the slight discomfort because all of that is forgotten by the overriding whelms of ultimate pleasure. He knows you can take it.

"Give me another one, yeah pretty baby? Squirt all over my cock like I know you can. No matter how dumb and cock-drunk you act, you're much smarter than you let on."

"M'kay, sir."

It's true. You're not afraid to play dumb just for his attention. It played off. After all, it's you he's fucking and not your friend who boldly declared she'd ask out the hot tutor today. Well, shucks. Seems like he's been thinking a lot about you too.

Of course, you want to prove to him just how good and intelligent you are. Giving into your body's thralls, you let it do its thing. Knowing it'll get to where you and Seungcheol want it.

It doesn't take long. The mixture of overstimulation, burning desire, and his cock constantly stroking that bundle of nerves in the most perfect and delicious way causes you to snap harder than you think you ever had. Nothing has ever felt this good.

Seungcheol curses. Your cunt both expels and sucks him in as you sob. Slickness splashes against his lower abs and he's almost frozen in awe at just how perfect your body is. So responsive and eager to please. He's left with no choice but to give in and cum on the spot. That's fine, though. This is everything he's dreamed of. And more.

"Shit, I think my dick's in love with your pussy."

You wheeze out a laugh in disbelief. "Thanks?"

"I'm serious. How are you real?"

"Now don't go catching feelings so quickly." You intend to sound haughty and threatening but the effect is lost when you're still breathless and bent over your vanity, a combo of your releases oozing from your spent hole after he shifts a bit. "I need to stay out of academic probation if I want to go on a date."

The hand absentmindedly running up and down your back halts. "You'll go on a date with me?"

"Maybe."

"It wasn't a no."

"I thought you waited for someone's explicit consent."

Brown eyes sparkle mischievously behind his glasses. "Knew you were a smartie."

"Yeah, I do pay attention sometimes," you huff, flinching when his fingers touch at your sensitive clit causing him to mumble out an apology. "So help me study."

"Oh, I will," he assures you. Helping you gently turn your aching body around to face him before suggestively cupping your covered breasts. "But how about a little more anatomy study before our date?"

"Seungcheol!"

But honestly, how could you refuse? Placing your arms around his neck, you pull him in close to meet pouty lips in a shy kiss, contrasting greatly with the sinful way your legs wrap around his hips.

"I expect all A's from a stellar student like you."

"With a dick game as strong as this, I might just oust the top student, the great Mr. Choi himself, from his position."

He can't even be mad, chest puffing out in a weird sense of happiness. "We'll just have to see about that."

[musickool]

𝔪𝔞𝒅𝔢 𝔦𝒏 𝒉𝔢𝒍𝒍

★ 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒊-𝒈𝒐𝒅 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!david griffin 𝑥 𝒂𝒃𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!reader

𝐈.

vampire!david who whispers in your ear like the voice of Satan himself, chuckling right after under his baritone breath. he watches you squirm and tremble with fear as you lay helplessly on the ground like a lamb ready for slaughter; ripped up clothes, arms and legs tied up and chained to a wooden apparatus, body covered in bruises. vampire!david smirks devilishly, eyes demonic, reddishly dark and evil. his fangs are like sharp milky daggers, easy to cut and tear through the soft flesh of your pillowy mammal meat. the aura around him is so dooming and potent, you'd rather be dead. vampire!david gains closer and pecks a kiss to your virgin lips, raising his hands up to start aimlessly roaming his hand around body, whispering sinful nothings into your ear lewdly.

. . . .

vampire!david sinks his fangs into your neck, drawing out blood. you jolt up and scream, vision immediately fades to darkness, the environment around you rapidly becomes inaudible. he suckles and doggishly laps up every drop of scarlet fluid, lips stained and swollen. vampire!david closes his eyes in pure ecstasy, eyes rolled back as he moans and sadistically enjoys the sounds of you wailing, extracting every blood he can get. tears stream down your face violently, crying and screaming and shaking, from your bloodshot eyes to your scrunched up face. vampire!david simultaneously grabs your neck and pulls you closer, continuing the torment. he snaps your face towards him and doggishly makes out with you, snogging your face. the veins on his neck bulge as he passionately fights tongues with you, hands still touching your body. after a while, he releases and finally pulls back, revealing his face that is now messed up. his chest heavily heaves up and down, staring at you with that same wicked smile that paints on his face. vampire!david watches you as you slowly lose conscious, head jerking back and forth as your body starts to go cold. he lifts an index finger to place them on your lips, gently stroking them. the moments you think are your last, your eyes flutter repeatedly one last time, blink and blink again, before closing silently; lights out....

[sxcret-garden]

Who in ateez...

...would make you listen to their own music during sex, putting a handpicked few of atz's songs on repeat and turning it into a game. A game where you're only allowed to cum to his voice, and if you happen to tumble over the edge at any of the other seven's parts, he'll immediately stop touching you, leaving you with nothing but the empty feeling of a ruined orgasm. And he wouldn't make this easy on you either, cause he's fucking you so good, and how are you even supposed to make an attempt at keeping your composure when he already knows your body and mind like the back of his own hand, touching you in all the right places and whispering all the most perfectly dirty things in your ear as he has you whimpering underneath him, desperately trying to bite back your high that's about to overwhelm you. And of course it's not his voice that resounds in your ears when control slips away from you, and tears start to well up in your eyes because he really did mean it when he had told you in advance that he'd punish you for cumming at anyone's part but his own... but his hands won't stay off you for long, soon easing you into his pace and making you needy for that sweet release all over again, because you can be sure he isn't gonna stop until he's heard you scream his name over his voice on the recording at least once or twice

[devilat-thedoor]

ha ha ha😅

all i’m saying is The Archer makes Jake just as horny as the rest of us… tell me i’m wrong…