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g4rvez-r3id · 3 months ago

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I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you’re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. “I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like… pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #post prison spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #g4rvez-r3id

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bighitfics · 4 months ago

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recent jungkook fanfics that you should read for your own sanity.

(a recommendation for all the girlies who miss him like crazy!)

one rule by @/jasminefanfics on youtube

— dark romance, mean and morally ambiguous jungkook, hostage au, enemies to lovers, smut, love triangle (but it’s just a deranged schizophrenic being the ‘bone in a kebab’ for the gorgeous couple)

— this is ART. this is true unleashed YEARNING. dark ROMANCE done right, literally the perfect read for winter! this is my absolute fav read of this year 🫦

bonded by @borathae

— werewolves au, forced marriage au, childhood besties to lovers, angst, romance, smut.

— will this queen ever stop producing art after art? she’s not capable of doing that, god this was such a good read, I’m still not over this, THIS IS MY SHEYLA FR! (iyykyk) they’re everything to me gawd 🥺

mon révé by @sweetcarrotsandroses97

— archdeacon jungkook, forbidden love, age gap, romani character reader, dark romance.

— I’ve never read something so beautifully, perfectly executed, every scene she wrote is plastered into my brain, the amount of times i think about this fic is not normal, I’m desperately awaiting the new chapters 😔✋🏼

the love prognosis by @awrkive

— friends to lovers (the og), medical au, unrequited love, roommates trope.

— nobody gets them like I do fr! my precious ship! 🥺😻🤲🏼 i loved how down bad he was for her from the beginning, we love a man who worships the ground his woman walks on LIKE AHHHH the author executed the one sided pining from jungkook so well! THE ANGST IS DELICIOUS IN THIS.

christmas & chill series by @girlygguk & @lovieku

— special xmas edition, jungkook and reader.

— the way I’m about to eat this up. u guys aren’t ready for the obnoxious amount of times I’m gonna be crying ab this whole series on my blog, oh lord have mercy on me, this is so brilliant oh how i wanna kiss their hands for this, SUCH DIVAS BOTH OF THEM 🫦

infrunami by @kooktrash

— friends to lovers, mutual pinning, smut, angst.

— boom shakalaka yes gawd! after I completed reading this fic, i took a moment to myself, clapped and took a lap around my bedroom, then I also did a 7 min standing ovation, this deserves more hype ngl.

burning hour by @jungqkook

— established relationship, smut, exhibitionism.

— the amount of times i’ve re read this is embarrassing but it is that LEVEL of good, oh god when is it my turn to experience something like this?

catch twenty-two by @miraclemaven on wattpad

— forbidden romance, age gap, smut, older reader & younger jungkook, angst.

— im so hooked into this story, even though i haven’t started reading properly, this is a promising one, with really good writing.

chained up by @jikookie17

— obsessed addicted jungkook (my jam), smut, angst, fluff.

— reading this made me feel like im watching a melodramatic story of two idiots who literally can’t live without each other, its a cute lighthearted read, 100% recommend!

THE END OF TODAY’S LIST.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀⠀ hope the girlies like it ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

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lowryuk · 1 month ago

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What Was Mine.

Pairing: Eren x F!Reader, Jean x F!Reader

Word Count: 10K

Summary: Your older sister, Mikasa, steals your first love so you get your lick back. But it becomes a little more complicated…

A/N: Ahhhh, my first fic on here!! Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to see an alternative version because I wrote this like 3 different times before settling on this one LOL.

(Warnings are below the undercut)

Warning(s): Angst, reader is adopted, cheating, heavy betrayal, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, possessive!eren, multiple orgasms, dry humping, teasing, begging, cum eating, unprotected sex (wrap ur Willy pls), lowkey sad reader but it gets better, happy ending

I will post this on AO3 as soon as I get invited which should be around sometime next week!

There was a time when Jean was your everything. The boy who made your heart race, the one you thought you'd grow old with. He was your first love, your best friend—the one person who made the world feel small and safe with just a look. You were so sure of him, so certain that no matter what, he’d always be yours.

You met him at a party. One of those suffocating high school gatherings where the air was thick with sweat and cheap beer, where kids who barely liked each other pretended they were family for the night. You weren’t supposed to be there—Mikasa had dragged you along, making it clear she wasn’t going to hold your hand or play babysitter.

She didn’t say it outright, but you knew what she was thinking. You were only there because of her. Because her parents had taken you in, raised you as their own. Because no matter how many years passed, no matter how many times people called you “sisters,” you would always be the outsider.

And then there was Jean.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand, grinning at something Connie had said. His laughter was loud, careless, the kind that filled a room without trying. The dim lighting made the sharp angles of his face more defined, casting shadows that made him look older than he was. He exuded confidence—comfortable in his own skin in a way most high school boys weren’t.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, he looked at you.

And for a second, everything else—the music, the voices, the heat of the packed house—faded into the background.

You turned away quickly, pulse stammering in your throat, but it was too late. The moment had already settled into your bones, anchoring itself somewhere deep, somewhere permanent.

The party moved on without you. People came and went, music thumped against the walls, conversations turned to white noise. But you felt his presence like a weight against your skin. Every time you dared to glance in his direction, he was already looking back.

It wasn’t until much later, when the night had blurred into a drunken haze of movement and sound, that fate intervened. Someone shoved past you in the crowd, sending you stumbling forward—right into him.

A hand caught your wrist, steadying you before you could fall.

"Woah, you good?" His voice was smooth up close, warmer than you expected.

You lifted your head, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were. The scent of him—something faintly like cologne, something distinctly his—lingered between you.

"Yeah," you managed, breathless. "Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention."

Jean smirked. It wasn’t mocking—it was curious, amused, like he’d just discovered something interesting.

"You’re Mikasa’s sister, right?"

There it was again. That title.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did. You were used to hearing it, used to the way people looked at you when they said it. Like they were reminding you of something you were supposed to remember.

You nodded, half-expecting him to brush you off, to turn back to his friends. But he didn’t. Instead, he let his gaze flicker over you, something unreadable in his expression.

"You want a drink?" he asked, and somehow, it felt less like a question and more like a challenge.

You weren’t sure why, but you followed him.

The next hour passed in a blur. You weren’t drinking much, but Jean was intoxicating enough on his own—his sharp wit, his effortless charm, the way he leaned in just a little when he talked to you, like you were the only person worth listening to. He had a way of making you feel seen, like every glance was intentional, like every smirk was meant just for you.

It was stupid, how easily he pulled you in. How quickly you forgot the world outside of this moment, this feeling.

And then, at some point, the night was over. The house was thinning out, the music quieter, the air cooler as you stepped outside. Jean walked with you, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking over to you in intervals like he was debating something.

Then, finally—hesitantly—he stopped.

"Hey," he said, voice softer than before. "I had fun tonight."

You looked up at him, searching his face, waiting for him to say something else. And when he didn’t, when he only stood there watching you, waiting, you knew.

It happened before you could overthink it. He leaned in first, but you met him halfway.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, lingering just long enough to make your chest tighten. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your shirt, grounding you. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t reckless—it was the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

And back then, you believed in promises.

You were young. Naïve. Convinced that love, once found, couldn’t be undone.

Because at that moment, Jean was everything.

And he was for the last 4 years until his birthday night.

It was supposed to be his night. Jean’s 20th birthday—the one you’d planned so carefully, hoping to surprise him. You’d put everything together: the decorations, the cake, even his favorite drinks. You had spent hours making sure every detail was perfect because you knew how much he appreciated things like this. He came in, eyes wide in surprise, and when he saw you, there was that warmth in his expression—the kind that made your chest tighten. He was grateful, and you were too, basking in the glow of his genuine happiness.

The night went by in a blur of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. Jean spent time with his friends, and you were busy with yours, navigating the usual ebb and flow of a party. You watched him from across the room occasionally, smiling to yourself at how easy he was to talk to, how he’d light up a room just by being in it.

It wasn’t until it was time for the cake cutting that you realized he had slipped away. You looked around the crowded room, your gaze flicking to the spots where you’d seen him last, but he wasn’t there.

Curious, you made your way through the house, trying to spot him. Your eyes flicked over every face you passed, but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was in the backyard, you thought. You started searching the rooms upstairs, thinking maybe he just needed a moment to himself.

Then, as you walked past Mikasa’s door, you heard it.

His voice.

It made your blood run cold.

Without thinking, your hand reached for the door handle, a nervous tremor running through your fingers. The knob creaked under your touch, and as the door cracked open, your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

There they were.

Jean. Mikasa.

Kissing.

His hand in between your sister's legs and his other hand gripping on her breast. You froze, unable to tear your eyes away. Your lungs tightened, and before you knew it, tears started to blur your vision. The ache in your chest was so sharp, it felt like your entire world had just shattered.

They didn’t even notice you. Not at first. They were lost in each other. But when you sobbed—just once, a broken gasp of disbelief—it was enough to catch their attention.

Jean’s eyes widened in horror, and Mikasa, too, seemed startled, but the damage was done. You couldn’t move fast enough. Your body turned on its own accord, propelling you back downstairs, retreating into the chaos of the party.

The voices, the music, the laughter—it all collided in your mind, distorting everything around you. You didn’t care anymore. None of it mattered.

Your best friend grabbed hold of you, her face contorted in concern as she noticed your tear-streaked face and the way your breathing was shallow, rapid.

“Hey,” she said, voice trembling with worry. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

But you couldn’t speak. The words were tangled in your throat.

She rushed you out of the house and took you back to her place. Your phone buzzed in your pocket—Jean, messages, calls, apologies. You couldn’t bring yourself to read any of them. Without even thinking, you blocked Jean on everything. Facebook. Instagram. Texts. Calls. You didn’t want anything from him anymore.

You collapsed in her arms, sobbing until your body felt like it might break.

The blowout after that night was messy. People took sides. Jean and Mikasa’s friends stood by them, defending what they’d done, making excuses. But you couldn’t stomach it.

Even your parents, who didn’t agree with what Mikasa had done, found a way to justify it. “She’s your sister, and maybe they were in love. Maybe you were in the way of that.”

“Life is strange,” they said.

And through all of it, they expected you to forgive her. “Please, find it in your heart. She’s still your sister.”

It wasn’t that easy.

Time passed, and you focused on healing—on trying to forget, or at least bury the pain long enough to function. But the ache never really went away. Not when Mikasa and Jean made their relationship official. Not when she brought him around the house, acting like nothing had ever happened. And definitely not when you’d have to listen, helpless, to the sounds of them together.

The sound of her laughing, of their whispers, of him—him—with her, in the same spaces that used to feel like home.

The betrayal was a weight you couldn’t lift, and you started to wonder if you ever would.

Their relationship seemed to be smooth sailing after that. Mikasa and Jean were inseparable, the picture-perfect couple everyone admired. She flaunted it, of course. Every chance she got, she rubbed it in your face, whether it was with a sly comment, a smug smile, or the way she’d casually mention Jean’s name in conversation—like she had to make sure you knew, that you saw how happy she was. How perfect they were.

And it stung every time. Every time she smiled too brightly when she mentioned him, or when they’d show up together at family dinners, laughing, holding hands, as if everything was normal. But nothing felt normal. Not to you.

It wasn’t that you wanted Jean back. You’d buried that pain deep down, letting time work its numbing magic. But seeing them together—seeing her with him—was a constant reminder of how she had taken something you once thought was yours. And for what? Was it worth it? Was he worth all of this?

Then, a year later, Eren Yeager stepped into the picture, and suddenly, everything changed.

He was new to the city, fresh-faced and confident, a star on the court with a reputation that preceded him. He was everything Jean wasn’t—intense, magnetic, with a presence that made people stop and take notice. Eren wasn’t just another guy. He was the guy.

It didn’t take long for him to become well-known at university. You could see the effect he had on people—on the girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, on the guys who wanted to be him, and the way Mikasa’s eyes followed him whenever he walked by.

At first, you thought it was just harmless admiration. But soon, you could tell it was something more. You saw the way she’d pause when he entered the room, how her face softened in a way it never did around Jean.

And Jean noticed too. He wasn’t blind. It didn’t take long for him to start feeling the pressure—especially when Mikasa began to subtly pull away from him, her attention now split between her boyfriend and her new, undeniable crush.

Jean wasn’t the kind of guy to back down, but you could see it in his eyes, the insecurity creeping in. Mikasa was slipping from his grasp, and Eren was right there, making his move without even realizing it.

You, on the other hand, stayed quiet. You weren’t going to say anything. You weren’t going to make it worse. But it was hard not to notice the way Eren’s presence changed the dynamic—how Mikasa’s attention shifted.

It was like watching a slow-motion car crash and you couldn’t look away.

Connie and Sasha were quick to befriend Eren, welcoming him into their circle as if they’d known him for years. Mikasa, unsurprisingly, was thrilled, her excitement visible every time he was around. It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift. Jean, on the other hand, was becoming noticeably more distant, his cool façade hiding what was likely insecurity. He was fading from the group.

Then, one evening, it all came to light. Over a casual family dinner, Mikasa casually mentioned that she and Jean had split. No drama, no confrontation, just a matter-of-fact statement as though it didn’t matter.

And it hit you like a ton of bricks. Your sister had ruined something that was once beautiful—for no damn reason. Mikasa had always been so quick to go after what she wanted. Now, she had Eren, and you? Well, you were left to pick up the pieces of what she had torn apart.

It didn’t take long for Mikasa to set her sights on Eren. Within a month, they were official. She paraded him around like a trophy, gushing about how he was the captain of the basketball team, how he carried the team to victory every game. She thrived on the attention—not just from him, but from everyone else on campus. She was dating the golden boy, and she wanted everyone to know it.

But it all faltered when Eren met you.

It happened on a quiet evening. Your parents were away on business, Mikasa was supposed to be with Eren, and for once, you had the house to yourself. Dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that barely passed as clothing and a loose tank top, you were sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the rare solitude.

Then the front door burst open.

You turned your head just as Mikasa rushed inside, Eren trailing behind her. You sat up slightly, the movement making your top slip lower, exposing more than enough to be considered inappropriate. Mikasa's eyes narrowed.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she snapped.

You blinked, feigning innocence. “Didn’t know you were coming back, let alone bringing someone. I’m just in my comfy clothes.” You shrugged, making no move to cover up.

It was then that you felt his stare.

Eren hadn’t looked away since the moment he walked in. His gaze was heavy, dark, lingering. He wasn’t subtle about it either, drinking you in like he was committing every inch of you to memory. And that’s when the idea struck.

At first, this was accidental. A chance encounter. But now? Now it was an opportunity.

You knew Mikasa better than anyone. You had watched her cycle through relationships, but never had she been as enamored as she was with Eren. It wasn’t just him—she loved what he represented. The status, the envy in other girls’ eyes when she walked into a room with him on her arm. He was an ego boost, a walking validation of her importance.

And you made it your mission to take him from her.

It started subtly. The skimpy outfits when he came over, the calculated flirting when Mikasa was too preoccupied scrolling through her phone to listen to him go on about last night’s game. But you listened. You engaged. You actually cared about what he had to say, and it didn’t help that you were breathtaking while doing it.

And Eren noticed.

The way his eyes lingered a second too long, the way his voice dropped when he spoke to you, the way he leaned in just a little closer than necessary. You could feel the shift, the unspoken tension building between you both. He was slipping, and you were ready to catch him.

Then, at some overcrowded party, it finally happened.

Mikasa was off somewhere, lost in the sea of her so-called friends, and you had been searching for him. You found him in the back of the house, seated on a couch, playing cards with a group of guys you didn’t recognize. The moment he spotted you, his lips curled into a smirk, and he patted the empty space beside him.

You didn’t hesitate.

They dealt you into the game, but neither of you were paying attention. His arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, his fingers tracing light patterns against your bare shoulder. You leaned into it, just slightly, but enough for him to notice.

The tension was suffocating, electric.

You weren’t sure who moved first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you. But suddenly, his fingers were in your hair, tilting your head toward him, and your hands found his jaw, pulling him down. The moment your lips met, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn't careful.

It was desperate.

Eren’s arm curled around your waist, dragging you onto his lap like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. His hands burned against your skin, his touch rough, hungry. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping past your lips, tasting like whiskey and recklessness.

The guys around you barely reacted, either too high to care or too used to this kind of debauchery. But it didn’t matter.

You feel the bulge growing in his pants and moan softly when the denim of his jeans slightly rubs against your clit. You try to pull away, just enough to see how far Eren is willing to go, to test him, to see if he’ll hesitate.

But he doesn’t.

His grip tightens around your waist, keeping you flush against him, his breath hot against your lips. His eyes, half-lidded and dark with something unmistakable—search yours, daring you to stop him.

“Eren, we can’t—” your voice is barely a whisper, a weak protest, but even you don’t believe it.

“Let’s go to my car,” he breathes, his lips brushing against your jaw, trailing lower, voice thick with want.

Your stomach flips. The rational part of your mind warns you, reminds you that Mikasa is somewhere in this house, that this is wrong.

But then his hands slide down your thighs, fingertips pressing into bare skin, and suddenly, you don’t care.

He pulls you out of the crowd and to his car, opening the back door and pushing you in before getting on top of you and kissing you all over. You laid on his back seat, dress pulled up to your stomach as Eren grinds his bulge against your slit. His hands roamed your body, exploring your curves with an urgency. He cupped your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Fuck, Eren," you moaned, leaning into his touch. He responded with a low growl, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses.

He moved between your legs, his fingers coming down and finding your pussy wet and ready. You let out a gasp as he began to tease you, his thumb circling your clit in a maddening rhythm.

You moaned louder, head falling back against the seat, surrendering to the pleasure. Eren continued his motions, his fingers dipping inside you, making you squirm with each thrust. "Eren please, m’ gonna cum," you panted, body trembling with the impending orgasm.

Eren didn't stop. He increased his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit. You came with a cry, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. But Eren wasn't done. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. "You taste so fucking good," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.

He moved lower, his hands pushing your legs apart. He buried his face between your thighs, his tongue finding your clit. “Eren!” You squeal, hands tangling in his hair as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dipping inside you, tasting you. You come again, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Eren moved back up, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, a heady mix of arousal and his desire. You reached for his pants, your fingers fumbling with the zipper. You pulled his dick out, long and hard, ready for you to take.

You sat up and straddled him, his hand guiding his dick to your entrance. You sank down on him, taking him inch by inch. He filled you completely, stretching you more than Jean ever could. You begin to ride him, hips moving urgently, like you had been waiting for him your whole life. Eren's hands were everywhere, cupping your breasts, squeezing your ass, pulling your hair. He was rough, his touch bordering on painful, but it only served to heighten your pleasure.

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking pretty. You have no idea how fucking long I’ve waited to do this.” he utters, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. You squeak in response, syncing up with his thrusts and nearly crying at the sheer pleasure he brought you as the tip of his dick reached your overstimulated g-spot.

You knew the car must be shaking but at that point you didn’t care. The world was second until you soaked his cock with your cum and nearly passed out in exhaustion. You’ve had sex countless times with Jean, but never once had he made you feel like this. You nearly laugh at yourself, at the absurdity of it all. You used to think Jean was everything, used to cry over him, used to let his half-assed love break you. But now? Now, with Eren fucking Yeager between your legs, making you feel things you didn’t even know were possible, you realize how foolish you were.

Mikasa really saved you from mediocre sex for the rest of your life.

The car reeked of sex, but neither of you minded. You were trying to collect yourself, touching up your makeup and hoping that feeling would come back to your legs, but Eren kept kissing on you.

“Eren, we have to go back, or people are gonna notice we’re MIA.”

“Let them notice,” he mutters against your skin, nuzzling into your neck and making you giggle.

“Stop, your girlfriend is going to have my head if she finds out.”

He pulls back slightly, green eyes locking onto yours. “We’re not gonna tell her?”

You give him a dumbfounded look. “Of course not! She’d kill me! Her room is right across from mine—there’s no doubt in my mind that she’d suffocate me with a pillow.”

Eren sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a shame. I wish I met you first.”

Your heart skips. But you recover quickly, tilting your head. “I’m not saying we can’t do this again.”

That makes him smirk. “Our little secret, huh?”

You lean in, pressing one more kiss to his lips before slipping out of the car and heading back inside.

After that night, things spiraled. Sneaking around became second nature—quickies in the janitor’s closet, locker rooms, empty classrooms, even a napping pod once. It was reckless. It was thrilling. And it didn’t help that Eren was so good. Too good.

Whenever he’d come over, you’d be lounging on the couch, and the second Mikasa got up to grab a snack, he’d have you pulled onto his lap, kissing you like he was starving. And before she could see, you’d be on the other end of the couch, casually scrolling through your phone, stifling laughter.

Then, it shifted. The secret dates started. And the biggest problem emerged—you were falling in love with him. And worse, he was falling in love with you.

The guilt set in. Not because you were sleeping with your sister’s boyfriend. No, you didn’t give a damn about that. But because you didn’t want Eren to feel like a pawn in your game. You didn’t want him to wake up one day, realize the truth, and feel used.

So, you came clean.

It was late. You’d already had sex, and now you were sitting in his car, eating ice cream. He could tell something was off. The ice cream was his way of cheering you up.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern. “You’re being quiet. It’s freaking me out.”

You inhaled deeply. “If I asked you to break up with my sister for me, would you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Your stomach dropped. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“Why… Do you want me to?”

“I was just wondering why you haven’t already.”

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “Because I don’t know what we are. I feel bad for dragging your sister along, but I don’t feel that connection with her. She tries to like my interests, tries to be a good girlfriend, but it all feels forced. With you… It’s just easy. Like you were made for me or something.”

His sincerity made your chest ache. Your eyes burned. He noticed immediately, setting his ice cream down and pulling you over the console onto his lap, reclining the seat so you could lay comfortably against him.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he murmured, voice softer now.

“I don’t think we can keep doing this, Eren.”

His jaw tightened. His arms locked around you like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. “Don’t say that.”

You swallowed hard. “I feel bad for dragging you into this.”

“Why?”

You took a shaky breath and told him everything. About Jean. About Mikasa. About how the night you met him, you’d plotted to use him against her, knowing how much she liked him. By the time you finished, tears streamed down your face, the weight of your confession crushing you.

Eren’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched, fingers tapping against the steering wheel in a way that made your stomach twist. Then, without a word, he reached for the seat controls, pushing it back into place before lifting you off his lap and setting you back into the passenger seat. The silence was suffocating.

You buried your face in the sleeve of your sweater, unable to look at him as he started the car. The drive back was agonizing. He didn’t speak, didn’t even glance in your direction. When he finally pulled up a block away from your house, he didn’t tell you to get out, didn’t ask if you were okay. He just waited. Watched. And the second you slipped inside, he sped off, leaving you alone with the hollow ache in your chest.

Eren didn’t message you after that. And you didn’t reach out to him either. He was still with Mikasa, and that broke you more than you wanted to admit. You avoided them, choosing to immerse yourself in school, in your friends—anything to keep yourself from falling apart.

But Eren saw you. And when he did, his stare burned into you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, he became the perfect boyfriend. Mikasa was happier than ever, always by his side, gushing about their dates, his sweet gestures, the way he looked at her like she hung the stars. And you? You were unraveling.

You tried to distract yourself—drinks at random bars, meaningless hookups with men who never once made you feel the way Eren did. But it only made things worse. Left you feeling emptier, dirtier. So you stopped. Chose to rot in your bed instead, watching mindless shows to drown out your thoughts.

Then one night, everything changed.

It was late, the house quiet except for the hum of your TV. Mikasa had left hours ago, off to some party, giddy about spending the weekend with Eren. Your parents were away too, leaving you entirely alone. It was supposed to be peaceful.

But then came the pounding on the front door.

Your heart lurched as you glanced at the window, spotting Eren’s car parked outside.

What the hell?

You grabbed a bat before making your way downstairs, your pulse hammering. Peeking through the peephole, you saw him—his expression unreadable, chest rising and falling heavily.

You hesitated, but opened the door anyway.

“You scared the hell—”

Eren pushed past you, eyes scanning the room before snatching the bat from your hand. He didn’t stop, storming up the stairs like a man possessed.

“Eren, what the fuck are you doing?” You shut the door and followed after him, heart pounding.

He threw open your bedroom door, searching like a madman—checking under your bed, inside your closet, even the bathroom. Then he turned to you, eyes dark, wild.

“Where is he?”

“What?”

“Jean.” His voice was a growl. “I know he’s here. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

You stared at him, utterly baffled. “Jean? Why the fuck would he be here?” You argue.

Eren’s jaw tightened as he stepped closer, backing you against the wall. His scent surrounded you—faint cologne mixed with something desperate, something unhinged.

“Your friend told me he was here,” he said through gritted teeth. “And Jean was nowhere to be fucking seen at that party.”

Your brows furrowed. “My friend?” You turned your phone over and sure enough, there was a notification from her: ‘Angry Eren headed your way 🫡.’

You exhaled, rolling your eyes as you showed him the screen. “She lied to you. He’s not here.”

Eren’s eyes flickered with relief for only a second before something darker took over. He grabbed your phone, tossed it onto the bed, and then his lips crashed onto yours.

“Fuck it,” he muttered between kisses, hands gripping your waist. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.”

You gasped as he pushed you onto the mattress, his weight pressing down on you. His fingers trailed up your thigh, squeezing, possessive.

“You have me so fucking crazy in the head,” he rasped against your lips. “Had me leaving a party, abandoning my girlfriend to see if you were with that piece of shit.”

His mouth was everywhere—your neck, your jaw, your collarbone. Desperate. Consuming.

“Thought I could ignore you. Move the fuck on after you used me like that. But fuck,” his teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I close my fucking eyes, and I see you. I get into my car, and I miss you. I read our messages every fucking day, hoping you’ll reach out. But you never fucking did.”

His words made your chest tighten, your hands fisting his hoodie. “Eren…”

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breath uneven. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. “And I will.”

But you didn’t.

Instead, you pulled him closer, sealing your fate with a kiss that tasted like everything you’d been running from.

Eren’s lips trail down your jaw, rough and desperate, his breath heavy against your skin. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent ignoring you. His hands are gripping your waist, fingers digging in like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You fucking ruined me,” he mutters against your lips, his voice low, strained. “Made me lose my fucking mind. Do you know how many times I’ve been this close—” his hand moves up your thigh, pushing your tank top higher “—to driving to your house in the middle of the night?”

Your heart is hammering against your ribs, but you manage to whisper, “Then why didn’t you?”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, he’s flipping you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “Because you didn’t fucking reach out,” he growls. “You left me there, made me think I was just a fucking game to you.”

You shake your head, fingers gripping the back of his neck. “It wasn’t like that. I swear.”

Eren scoffs. “Then why’d you do it? Huh?” He’s searching your face, looking for something—maybe a reason not to hate you, not to love you as much as he does. “Why’d you play with me like that?”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You don’t even know if you can say it. But when you look into his eyes, into the frustration, the longing, the hurt—you know you have to.

“I was angry,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “Mikasa… she took everything from me. I just wanted to take something from her for once.”

Eren’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you, doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“Then why does it feel like I’m the one who took something from you?” he mutters.

You swallow hard. “Because I didn’t expect to fall for you.”

Eren exhales sharply, like the words just knocked the air out of him. His fingers tighten on your hips, and he curses under his breath before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

Your breath hitches. “Eren—”

“Say it again.” His voice is hoarse, pleading. His lips ghost over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet.

You close your eyes, hands trembling as they tangle in his hair. And then, softly, “I fell for you.”

A sound leaves his throat—something between a sigh and a groan—before he’s crashing his lips into yours, kissing you like he’s starving, like he’s been waiting for this moment since the day you walked out of his car.

And maybe he has.

Eren’s hands are everywhere—gripping your thighs, sliding under your shirt, tilting your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. It’s messy, desperate, all-consuming. You feel like you’re drowning in him, in the way he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against your lips, like he’s making a vow. His hands tighten around your waist, pressing you closer to him. “I don’t give a fuck about anything else. I don’t care what we were supposed to be—I just know I can’t lose you again.”

Your chest is heaving, heart pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “Eren…”

“I mean it,” he growls, his lips ghosting over your jaw, down your neck. “I don’t care about Mikasa. I don’t care about Jean. I don’t care about whatever the fuck happened before—I just want you.”

Your breath catches, fingers trembling as they dig into his shoulders. “Eren, if we do this… there’s no going back.”

“Good,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide. “I don’t fucking want to go back.”

And then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to fuse himself to you. Like he’s trying to make up for every second you spent apart.

You don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

You let him pull you closer, let him steal the breath from your lungs, let him drag you under because if this is what drowning feels like—being swallowed whole by Eren Yeager—you don’t ever want to come up for air.

Eren’s hands slide under your shirt, rough palms grazing over your heated skin. He’s impatient—grabbing, pulling, desperate to feel more of you, like he’s scared you’ll slip away if he lets go for even a second.

“Tell me you missed me,” he pants against your lips, his breath hot, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, head spinning. “Eren—”

“Say it.” His fingers dig into your hips, his jaw clenched so tight you think he might shatter. “Tell me you fucking missed me like I missed you.”

Your throat is dry, your heart slamming against your ribs. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, don’t want to let him know just how badly you’ve been aching for him, but you can’t lie. Not to him.

“I missed you,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

His eyes darken, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, hands gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself, but he’s everywhere—filling your senses, stealing the air from your lungs.

He leans in, lips brushing over your ear. “Then show me.”

And just like that, all hesitation crumbles. You crash into him, fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him like you’ll never get the chance again. He groans against your mouth, hands roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead pressing against yours. His eyes, normally sharp and cold, are burning with something raw, something unspoken.

“You’re mine,” he breathes. It’s not a question. It’s not a request. It’s a fucking fact.

And for the first time, you don’t want to fight it.

You nod. “I’m yours.”

Eren lets out a shaky breath, like he’s been waiting forever to hear you say that. Then, with a smirk, he grips your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Damn right you are.”

Eren doesn’t waste another second. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your shirt, his fingers digging into your skin like he wants to pull you inside him.

“You have no fucking idea what you do to me,” he growls against your lips, yanking your body flush against his. You can feel him—hard, throbbing, pressing into you like he’s already lost all patience.

You whimper, fingers twisting in his hair as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your throat, sucking at your pulse just to hear you gasp.

“Eren—”

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, voice husky as he nips at your collarbone. “I got you.”

His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up, his thumbs brushing over your heated skin. He pulls back just enough to yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room before his mouth is on you again—hot, wet kisses trailing lower, lower.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters, his breath fanning over your stomach. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You arch into him as his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts, playing with the elastic. He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his smirk downright sinful.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he teases, voice dripping with arrogance.

You bite your lip, your body screaming for him. “Eren, please.”

His smirk grows. “That’s my girl.”

He tugs your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him. His eyes darken, his tongue swiping over his lips as he takes you in.

“Fuck,” he groans, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. “Been dreaming about this.”

Your breath hitches as he kisses the inside of your thigh, his hands gripping your legs like he never wants to let go.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, teasingly slow, lips ghosting over where you need him most.

You nod frantically, hands reaching for him, but he only chuckles. “Use your words.”

“Eren, please,” you gasp, squirming under his touch.

He grins against your skin.

Eren groans, low and deep, like he’s barely holding himself together. His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he spreads you wider beneath him, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot.

"Fuck," he rasps, voice rough with need. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this."

His lips skim over the inside of your thigh, slow, teasing, his tongue flicking on your clit just to feel you shudder. He smirks against your skin, eyes dark as he watches you squirm.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "Already dripping for me. So fucking perfect, baby."

You whimper, arching toward him, but he just chuckles, gripping your hips to hold you down. "Patience, sweetheart," he taunts, pressing a lingering kiss right where you need him most—just barely, just enough to make you gasp.

"Eren," you plead, voice breathless, fingers threading into his hair to tug him closer.

He groans at that, his control slipping. "Shit, you’re gonna fucking ruin me."

Then he’s on you—hot, relentless, devouring you like he’s been starving for this moment. His tongue flicks, his lips suck, his grip tightens as he pulls you closer, deeper, like he wants to drown in you.

Your back arches, a cry spilling from your lips, and Eren growls in satisfaction. "That’s it, baby. Let me hear you," he rasps against your skin, his pace ruthless now.

You’re already trembling, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. He feels it. He fucking loves it.

"Come on, pretty girl," he coaxes, voice rough, hands gripping you even tighter. "Give it to me. Let me taste you fall apart."

Eren is relentless. His grip on your thighs is bruising, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to claim every inch of you. His tongue flicks, slow and deliberate, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot just to suck—hard.

Your body jolts, a sharp gasp escaping before you can stop it, and Eren groans at the sound like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. "Fuck, baby," he rasps, his voice muffled against you. "You taste so fucking good."

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. His tongue moves with precision, stroking, circling, teasing, while his hands keep you pinned, leaving you completely at his mercy.

You squirm, panting, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He groans at that, the vibration of it sending shockwaves straight through you.

"Eren—oh my god—"

He chuckles darkly, lifting his head just enough to meet your dazed, desperate eyes. His lips are glistening, his pupils blown wide with hunger. "That’s right, baby," he murmurs, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. "Say my fucking name."

Then his fingers join the mix—two of them sliding inside, slow, stretching you, curling just right as his mouth latches onto you again. The combination is devastating. Mind-numbing.

Your back arches, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashes over you, and Eren growls in satisfaction, his grip tightening, his pace ruthless.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he groans, his fingers curling deeper, his mouth working you over mercilessly. "Let me feel you come for me."

You shatter. Your whole body tenses, thighs trembling around his head as the pleasure rips through you, wave after wave. Eren doesn’t let up—he keeps going, dragging you through it, devouring every second of your undoing like he lives for this.

When you finally slump against the bed, boneless, breathless, he presses one last kiss to your sensitive skin before making his way up your body—hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing up your stomach, your ribs, your throat.

By the time he reaches your lips, he’s grinning, cocky and devastating. "You’re so fucking pretty when you come," he murmurs, dragging his thumb over your swollen lips.

Then he kisses you—deep, slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hips press against yours, hard and insistent, reminding you just how much he needs you.

Eren doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, trailing up your stomach, pressing into your thighs like he owns you. His mouth is back on yours, hot and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes you whimper.

"Fuck," he groans, grinding against you, making sure you feel how hard he is. "You feel that, baby? This is what you do to me."

His hands slip beneath you, gripping your ass, pulling you against him harder, and you can feel him, thick and throbbing, pressing against your slick heat through his sweats. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

"Eren," you gasp, your nails raking down his back, dragging over the firm muscles beneath his skin.

He growls at that, teeth grazing over your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. "You like driving me crazy, don’t you?" he mutters, voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. "You like knowing I can barely fucking think when I’m touching you?"

You moan, thighs squeezing around his waist, desperate for more friction, more him.

He smirks against your throat. "I can feel you dripping for me, baby. You want it that bad?"

"Yes," you whimper, back arching as he grinds against you again, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "Eren, please—"

"Shit, you sound so pretty when you beg," he groans, his lips dragging lower, lower, his teeth scraping over your collarbone before he sucks, leaving a mark—his mark. "Say it again."

You’re already dizzy with need, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pull him closer. "Please, Eren," you gasp. "I need you. Need all of you—"

His control snaps.

He sits up, yanking his hoodie over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. His eyes are dark, ravenous, as he watches you, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses.

"You’re gonna be the fucking death of me," he mutters, his hands hooking into the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down.

And then he’s there, bare and thick and aching for you, his cock standing proud against his stomach. Your breath catches because fuck, he’s big—so big it has your thighs squeezing together in anticipation.

Eren sees it. Loves it. His smirk turns wicked, one hand stroking himself as he watches you with those heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?" he teases, voice dripping with arrogance. "You think you can take me?"

You swallow hard, your whole body burning. "I—I want to."

That does it.

"Fuck," he growls, surging forward, caging you beneath him again. His lips crash against yours, desperate, hungry, his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing, taunting. "I got you, baby. I’ll make it fit."

His fingers trail down, teasing your slit, groaning at how soaked you are for him. "So fucking wet," he mutters. "All for me."

Then, without warning, he thrusts—slow, deep, stretching you open inch by inch. A strangled moan rips from your throat, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

"Fuck," he grits out, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath ragged. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect for me."

You’re gasping, legs wrapping around him, overwhelmed by the way he stretches you, the way he owns you.

Eren groans, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls back before slamming into you again, his jaw clenched, his control fraying. "Oh, baby," he pants, setting a deep, punishing pace. "You’re gonna fucking ruin me."

Eren is gone. Completely wrecked, consumed, feral. His grip on your hips is bruising, his thrusts deep and devastating, like he’s trying to carve himself into you, like he wants to ruin you for anyone else.

"You feel that, baby?" he growls, his voice all grit and desperation. His forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged as he drives into you, hitting just right, making you gasp. "Feel how good you take me? Fuck—you were made for me."

Your nails scrape down his back, leaving red-hot lines in their wake, and Eren groans, his pace stuttering for a second.

"Shit," he pants, his hands sliding down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist. "You’re so fucking tight—so perfect, baby. Squeezing me so good."

You can’t even speak, can’t do anything but take it, your body trembling beneath him as pleasure builds like a wildfire. Every drag of his cock against your walls, every filthy, desperate moan that spills from his lips, sends you spiraling higher.

And he knows it.

Eren watches you with hooded eyes, his expression downright sinful as he slows just to tease, rolling his hips in deep, controlled thrusts that have your back arching off the bed.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he murmurs, dragging his tongue over your throat, biting down just enough to make you cry out. "I can feel it. You’re so fucking close."

You are. Your entire body is burning, your muscles tensing, the pressure coiling tighter, tighter—

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, one hand slipping between you, his fingers finding your clit, circling it in slow, teasing strokes that have you whimpering. "Give it to me. Let me feel you."

And that’s it. The pleasure snaps, crashing over you in a blinding, breathless wave. Your body convulses, your back bowing, your walls pulsing around him as you shatter with a strangled moan of his name.

Eren loses it.

"Fuck, that’s it, baby," he groans, his pace turning desperate, sloppy, chasing his own high. "Shit—gonna fill you up—fuck—"

With one last, deep thrust, he breaks, his body tensing as he spills inside you, groaning your name like a fucking prayer. His grip on you is tight, like he never wants to let go, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rides out his release.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, tangled together, your bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with heat and satisfaction.

Then Eren lifts his head, a lazy, cocky smirk curving his lips as he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low, teasing. "Did I fuck you stupid?"

You glare at him—weakly, still dazed—and he grins, chuckling as he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your swollen lips.

"That was just the first round, sweetheart," he murmurs against your mouth, his fingers already trailing down your body again.

"You did say you needed more, didn’t you?"

Eren doesn’t even let you breathe. He’s still inside you, still hard, still fucking hungry, and from the way his hands are already trailing lower, gripping your thighs like he owns you, you know he’s not done.

Not even close.

"You thought I was finished with you?" he taunts, voice thick, teasing, dripping with arrogance. He rolls his hips—slow, deep—making you whimper at the overstimulation, and fuck, his smirk is wicked.

"You can take it, can’t you, baby?" he murmurs, fingers tracing over your swollen, sensitive clit just to tease. "Be my good girl and let me ruin you."

You’re still shaking from your last orgasm, body sensitive, nerves on fire, but that only makes it better. Your head lolls back, a needy whine slipping from your lips, and Eren grins.

"That’s what I fucking thought."

Before you can respond, he moves. Fast. Suddenly, you’re flipped onto your stomach, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you onto your knees. His chest is warm, burning against your back as he leans down, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

"You’re so fucking pretty like this," he groans, his cock pressing against your soaked folds, sliding through your slick without pushing in. Teasing. Torturing. "All spread out for me. Ready to be fucked proper."

You’re desperate. Arching your back, pressing against him, trying to push yourself onto his cock, but he just laughs.

"Needy little thing," he coos, one hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you back against his chest. His other hand dips between your legs, fingers sliding through your wetness, making you tremble.

"You want it that bad, huh?" he murmurs, pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your temple. His fingers glide up, circling your clit, barely touching—just enough to make you squirm.

"Eren, please," you whimper, your voice already wrecked.

He groans at that, his grip tightening. "Fuck, baby," he breathes. "I love when you beg."

Then, without warning, he slams into you.

A guttural moan rips from your throat as he bottoms out in one thrust, stretching you all over again. His grip on your throat tightens, his breath hot against your ear.

"You feel that, baby?" he growls. "Feel how deep I am?"

You can barely think. Your fingers claw at the sheets, your body arching, completely at his mercy.

Eren loves it. Loses himself in it. He pulls back and thrusts again—hard, deep, his pace brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, filthy, obscene, mixed with his low groans and your desperate, broken moans.

"You’re taking me so fucking well," he grits out, his hand sliding from your throat down to your mouth. His fingers press against your lips, and when you gasp, he shoves them inside.

"Suck," he commands, voice raw, and fuck, you do—hollowing your cheeks, moaning around his fingers as he fucks into you even harder.

His growl is pure filth.

"Shit, you’re so fucking nasty," he groans, his other hand coming down on your ass—hard. You gasp, the sting of it making you clench around him, and Eren loses it.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he taunts, his pace somehow turning even more devastating. "Like being fucked like a little slut?"

You whimper, drool slipping down your chin, body shaking as pleasure builds like a fucking storm.

"You gonna come for me again, baby?" he pants, yanking his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down between your legs. He finds your clit and rubs in tight, fast circles, making you wail.

"You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?" he growls. "Come on, baby. Make a mess all over my cock."

And then you snap.

Your vision blurs, your body convulsing as a scream rips from your throat. You come so hard it nearly knocks you flat, your walls pulsing around him, milking his cock, dragging him to his own breaking point.

"Fuck," he snarls, his thrusts turning sloppy, desperate. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Then he shatters, his entire body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up with a guttural moan of your name. His grip on your waist is bruising, his body collapsing against yours as he grinds his hips, riding out every last pulse of pleasure.

For a moment, neither of you can move. You’re both wrecked, sweaty, panting, tangled together in the best possible way.

Then Eren chuckles—low, breathless, still cocky as hell.

"Holy shit," he pants, pressing lazy kisses to your spine.

Your whole body is shaking, skin burning, sweat dripping—but Eren? That man is insatiable.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s moving again, hands gripping your hips hard, pulling you up onto all fours. You let out a weak, breathless moan, and he grins—that wicked, cocky, downright sinful grin.

"Aww, what’s wrong, baby?" he coos, teasing, breath hot against your ear. "Too much for you?"

You don’t even get a chance to answer before he spanks you—hard—his palm coming down on your ass with a sharp crack, making you jolt.

Your gasp turns into a moan, and Eren laughs, the sound deep and filthy.

"Ohhh, you like that, don’t you?" he taunts, rubbing over the stinging skin, his voice dripping with amusement. "Such a dirty little thing. Getting all wet just from being put in your place."

You whimper, back arching, needing more.

"Use your words," he warns, fingers teasing at your entrance, rubbing through your slick but not giving you what you want.

"Eren, please," you gasp, pushing back against him, desperate, needy. "I want you."

"Yeah?" he breathes, leaning down, his teeth grazing your shoulder. "Want me to fuck you stupid again?"

"Yes—yes, please," you beg, voice wrecked, trembling beneath him.

He groans, dragging his cock through your wetness, teasing, taunting, making you squirm.

"Since you asked so nicely," he mutters.

And then he slams into you.

A wail rips from your throat as he fills you to the hilt, stretching you open all over again. Eren grunts, gripping your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow—but you don’t care.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, pulling back just to thrust into you again, setting a brutal pace. "You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a little whore?"

You can’t even answer—can barely breathe. Your fingers claw at the sheets, your mouth open in a silent moan as he wrecks you.

Eren notices.

He laughs, breathless and cocky, and suddenly, his fingers are tangling in your hair, yanking your head back so your back arches perfectly for him.

"Aww, is it too much?" he teases, his voice mocking, his pace relentless. "Look at you, baby—drooling for me, fucking shaking, taking every inch like a good little slut."

You whimper, body trembling, completely at his mercy.

"Say it," he growls, snapping his hips so deep you swear you see stars. "Say you’re my little slut."

"I—I’m your little slut," you gasp, the words wrecked, choked.

"Fuck," he groans, his cock twitching inside you. "Good fucking girl."

Then he’s really losing control. His hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight, brutal circles that have you screaming.

"You gonna come for me again, baby?" he taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make a fucking mess all over my cock?"

You can’t stop it. The pleasure crashes over you, tearing you apart, your body convulsing, your walls pulsing so tight around him that he growls.

"Shit," he grits out, his pace turning desperate, erratic, wrecked. "Gonna fucking fill you up, baby—fuck—"

With a deep, guttural groan, he snaps, his body tensing as he spills inside you, hips jerking, grinding, making sure you take every drop.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, both of you shaking, panting, wrecked.

Then Eren chuckles, low and teasing, pressing a lazy, cocky kiss to your shoulder.

Your whole body is spent, muscles trembling, skin hot and slick with sweat. The air is thick, the room still humming with the aftershocks of what just happened, but before you can even think about moving, Eren is already on you.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, and the second your body melts into his, he lets out the softest sigh. His lips press lazy, feather-light kisses to your shoulder, up your neck, across your jaw—slow, tender, like he’s savoring you.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, voice low, husky, but gentle now. The contrast from the way he was just wrecking you makes your heart ache in the best way.

You hum, still a little dazed, nuzzling into his chest. "Mmmhmm."

He chuckles, all warm and fond, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "That’s not a real answer," he teases, fingers tracing lazy circles over your spine.

You smile sleepily, turning your face up toward him. "I’m good," you mumble, voice soft, satisfied. "So good."

Eren grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh, kneading it gently, soothing over the marks his fingers left behind. "You sure? You need anything?"

You shake your head, completely content, but that doesn’t stop him from fussing over you. He shifts, reaching for something—his discarded shirt—before gently wiping you down, murmuring little praises under his breath.

"So fucking perfect," he whispers, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. "So good for me."

When he’s done, he tosses the shirt aside, pulling you right against his chest, wrapping you up in his arms like he never wants to let go.

“What’re you going to do about her?” Eren follows your gaze that’s on his phone with Mikasa’s name flashing on it. “I already told you what I’m gonna do. She’s nobody to me.” He whispers, his fingers running through your hair down to your back.

A small pause follows.

"Stay right here, baby," he murmurs, tucking your head under his chin, his fingers stroking slow, soothing patterns into your back.

You sigh, completely boneless, curling into him. "Not going anywhere," you mumble. "Ever."

Eren chuckles, the sound soft, sweet. "Good," he murmurs, tilting your chin up just to steal one more slow, sleepy kiss. "Mine."

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot #eren x reader #eren x you #aot smut #aot x you #aot x reader #tw cheating #tw angst #Fic: What Was Mine.#aot angst #eren angst #eren jeager x reader

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snail-day · 4 months ago

Text

The Assistant Program

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Manipulation, Dub Con, Getting frisky (they're fucking) in the backseat of a car...Pet name: Puppy, pup. Mean sugu. Cum play? (Very brief). overstimulation.

Yan!Geto x Assistant!Reader

WC: 4k

a/n: Ahhhh, geto is rotting my brain again. There's something about him NOT being allowed to defect that has me frothing. I wrote a blurb earlier about this but was never actually able to get the idea into words until recently.

What if Geto Suguru hadn't crossed the line that night? If he hadn’t succumbed to the darkness, yet still nursed a quiet, simmering disdain for nonsorcerers—a festering grudge that earned him more than a few wary glances from the higher-ups.

Their answer to his "problem"? The Assistant Program.

It was Gojo who delivered the news, all lazy smiles and half-hearted reassurances as he clapped Suguru on the shoulder. “Think of it as a little help for that summer fatigue you’ve been dragging around,” he quipped, though Suguru caught the faint edge of caution in his friend’s gaze.

Suguru only smiled in response, his usual gentle expression betraying none of the irritation boiling beneath the surface. His dark eyes, framed by long lashes, glinted with something unreadable as he watched Gojo walk away.

And then, there was you.

A grade four sorcerer. Not someone who belonged in his orbit, freshly graduated like him with an incredibly low grade. A novice in comparison to his strength—a mere puppy forced to share missions, long car rides, and quiet evenings with him.

You were annoyingly bright, a contrast to the brooding aura he so often carried. Your cheerful demeanor and the way you fidgeted nervously around him should have grated on his nerves. At first, it did. Suguru wasn’t sure whether to laugh at your naivety or sneer at your eagerness to please.

How could you grin at him so freely, as if the thought of erasing all nonsorcerers didn’t run through his mind like a broken record?

But as time went on, he began to notice the little things. The way your gaze lingered on him, captivated by the dark cascade of his hair that framed his sharp features. The way you’d steal glances at the broad span of his shoulders, the way his uniform hugged his tall, lean, but muscular frame.

He didn’t miss how your voice softened whenever you said his name, how you leaned closer without even realizing it when he spoke. It wasn’t long before irritation twisted into something far more dangerous.

You weren’t just a puppy anymore. You were his puppy

Suguru made it a game—seeing how far he could push you, how much he could demand, and how readily you would obey. His long, calloused fingers would tug lightly at your sleeve when he called you into his apartment late at night, his dark eyes narrowing with faux vulnerability as he claimed he was having “certain thoughts.”

Bleary-eyed, still fumbling to tie your coat, you’d show up on his doorstep, tail wagging in that metaphorical way that made his chest tighten. “Is everything okay, Sugu?” you’d ask, concern dripping from your voice, as though you weren’t the one being dragged into his games.

He’d usher you in with that same gentle smile, his long hair slipping over his shoulders as he draped an arm around yours. “I just needed some company,” he’d murmur, leading you to the couch, where he’d pull you into his lap with ease that left you breathless.

At first, it was innocent—or so you told yourself. He’d hold you close, his broad chest warm against your back, his deep voice wrapping around you like a lullaby as he claimed he needed comfort. But as the nights wore on, the boundaries blurred.

This time, his lips pressed against your neck, his large hands firm on your waist as he whispered, “Aren’t you supposed to service my every need, little puppy?”

You stiffened, your hands pressing lightly against his chest, but the solid muscle beneath your touch only reminded you how much stronger he was. “Suguru, this… this isn’t part of the contract.”

His soft chuckle was like velvet, wrapping around you and pulling you under. “Contracts are flexible,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was light at first—a fleeting touch that left your breath hitching. But then his tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, coaxing you to part them. You hesitated, and he didn’t wait, slipping inside and deepening the kiss. The sensation was overwhelming, his movements deliberate and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you.

Your mind grew hazy, a mix of exhaustion and the intoxicating warmth of him seeping into your senses. His fingers slid up to cradle the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he feared you’d pull away.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips lingered just above yours, his warm breath fanning your flushed skin. “Good puppy,” he murmured, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes as satisfaction curled his lips into a faint smirk.

You didn’t leave his lap for the rest of the night. Every time you shifted, his hands tightened on your waist, keeping you firmly nestled against him. He pressed kisses to your lips, slow and deliberate, each one leaving your mind hazier, your resistance dissolving like sugar in water.

By the time you finally stumbled home, your head spun, replaying the events of the night like a broken record. Something felt… wrong.

But Suguru didn’t seem to think so.

The next day, he acted like everything was perfectly normal, lounging in the corner of the room during a briefing, his gaze tracking your every movement. When you finally mustered the courage to approach him, he greeted you with a sly smile, as if he had been waiting.

“About last night,” you started, voice trembling slightly.

“What about it?” he interrupted smoothly, tilting his head with feigned curiosity. “We’re together now. Isn’t that obvious?”

Your breath hitched. “Together? That wasn’t—”

“Stop overthinking it,” he said, his tone soft but firm, like he was addressing a child. He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face with a gentleness that made your stomach twist. “You’ve been there for me all this time. It’s natural for us to take the next step.”

You blinked at him, trying to process his words. “But I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” he asked, his voice dropping just slightly. The warmth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something colder. “Don’t tell me you’re going to deny me now after everything I’ve done for you. After everything we've done for each other. ”

The words hit like a slap, his tone dripping with quiet reproach. He let the silence hang heavy between you before sighing, the sound laced with disappointment.

“I see,” he said finally, leaning back with a detached expression. “I must have misread things. I thought you cared about me. But if this is how you really feel, then…” He trailed off, letting the weight of his unfinished sentence fill the air.

Your heart clenched. The idea of Suguru pulling away felt unbearable, like a void threatening to swallow you whole. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “No, it’s not like that!”

His lips curved into a smile, slow and calculated. “Good,” he said, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up. “I knew my puppy wouldn’t disappoint me.”

From that moment on, he took control of your life in ways so subtle you barely noticed at first. A comment here, a suggestion there—little nudges that steered you further into his orbit.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself,” he’d say with a faint frown, slipping your phone from your hands. “Let me take care of things for you.” And just like that, he’d rearrange your schedule, leaving you dependent on him for even the smallest tasks.

When you hesitated to stay late after missions, he’d fix you with a soft look that somehow made your chest ache. “You wouldn’t leave me all alone, would you? After everything we’ve been through? What if I end up doing something...?”

That final phrase was the words that always left you at his beck and call. You didn't want him to be executed, he was a good man after all.

Every move he made was calculated, each word a thread tightening the web he had spun around you. And the worst part? No matter how much you tried to resist, you always found yourself falling back into his arms, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “Good puppy.”

Sometimes, after swallowing a particularly vile curse, Suguru’s mood was dark and volatile. It clung to him like a shadow, his sharp edges cutting deeper into those unfortunate enough to cross his path. But tonight, his frustration found its focus on you.

You barely had time to settle into the backseat when his hands pulled you onto his lap, his grip firm, almost bruising. His lips found yours immediately, kissing you with a frantic desperation that left you breathless.

“Disgusting,” he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. The faint bitterness of his words contrasted with the soft graze of his lips, warm and plush, leaving a shiver in their wake. “You don’t know how lucky you are. You don’t have to taste it—any of it.”

Your hands instinctively pressed against his chest, trying to steady yourself. Beneath your trembling palms, his body was firm, his broad, muscular build radiating a comforting heat despite the tension that simmered just beneath the surface. But his grip tightened, his long fingers digging into your waist like a warning.

“Shh,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soothing as his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting, devouring, claiming. His dark eyes, framed by long, silky strands of black hair that cascaded over his shoulders, bore into yours with an intensity that left you breathless. His hand, large and calloused yet gentle, trailed up to your jaw, tilting your face to deepen the kiss, leaving no room for protest.

“You understand, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and coaxing, vibrating against your lips as his breath fanned over your flushed skin. His thumb brushed lightly along your cheek, the roughness of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

“I need this, puppy,” he continued, his words curling around your resolve like a leash. “I need you to take it away—the taste, the filth. Make me forget.”

His words carried a vulnerability that twisted something deep inside you, sending a shivers down your body. Part of you knew you should push back, should reclaim some semblance of control, but the way his hands moved—slow, deliberate, his strong fingers tugging at the edges of your sorcerer uniform—left you pliant under his touch.

“Suguru, we shouldn’t…” you whispered weakly, your voice faltering as his lips brushed along the curve of your neck, the heat of his breath leaving your skin tingling. The way he nipped at the soft skin.

“You’re such a good puppy,” he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender as his hands roamed lower, pulling you closer, pressing your body against his. The faint scent of his cologne—earthy and subtly sweet—lingered in the air, intoxicating you further. “Always trying so hard to please me.”

Your breath hitched as his tongue slid against yours, his kisses growing slower, deeper, impossibly intoxicating. The silky strands of his long hair tickled your cheek as he leaned closer, each movement deliberate and all-encompassing.

The tension in your body ebbed away, replaced by a warmth that seeped into your very core. You stopped resisting, your hands no longer pushing him away but clutching at his broad shoulders instead, your fingers tangling briefly in the smooth fabric of his shirt.

“There we go,” he murmured against your lips, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “That’s it. Good puppy. Let me take care of you.”

The praise sent a dizzying rush through you, leaving you feeling weightless and tethered all at once. The way his lips trailed along your jawline, the way his hands held you firmly yet with a gentleness that belied his strength—it left you unable to think of anything else.

By the time your uniform slipped from your shoulders, pooling in soft folds around your waist, you were pliant in his arms, melting into him like he had always wanted. His long, dark hair brushed against your skin as he leaned forward, his lips trailing along your collarbone with a reverence that made your chest tighten.

“See? Isn’t this better?” he whispered, his voice a dark lullaby as his lips pressed against a sweet spot on your neck, before sucking a mark. “This is where you belong. With me.”

And though a flicker of doubt lingered in the farthest corner of your mind, it was drowned out by the warmth of his touch, his kiss, and the way his deep voice curled around your name, making you feel like nothing else mattered.

Because, deep down, you wanted to please him.

And Suguru knew it.

He knew it in the way your body yielded to him, how your soft whimpers filled the air as he slowly eased you onto his cock, every inch stretching you to fit him perfectly. It was as if he was made for you, stuffing you full, hitting that sweet spot with practiced ease as he would gently roll his hips upwards. His large hands guided your hips with steady precision, his strong build towering over you, making you feel so small yet so protected in his hold.

“So cute,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress as he drank in every gasp and tremble, his dark eyes tracing the way your body moved with him. “You’re perfect, puppy. My perfect little thing.”

His long fingers tightened their grip on your waist as your breath hitched at his praise, the words wrapping around your mind like a leash, pulling you deeper into his control. Bringing a hand over to smack the fat of your ass just to hear that sweet whimper. His lips found your neck again, pressing feather-light kisses to your skin, each touch leaving you trembling with a need you didn’t know you had.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice laced with a sweetness that only made the possessive edge beneath it more apparent. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Your hips moved instinctively, rolling against his in a rhythm that he controlled with the firm grip of his large hands on your waist. His fingers, calloused yet careful, dug into your skin, grounding you against the steady friction that sent jolts of heat through your body. The low, satisfied hums rumbling from his broad chest mingled with your soft moans, which he eagerly muffled with his lips.

“You’re mine,” Suguru murmured, his voice dropping into something darker, more vulnerable. His dark eyes, half-lidded beneath long, inky lashes, bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart twist. His smooth, dark hair, damp with sweat, clung to his temples as he leaned closer, brushing stray strands from your cheek with an almost gentle reverence. “Do you understand that? You belong to me.”

The way he said it made your heart stutter, a flicker of something raw and uncertain threading through his tone. It was fleeting, quickly replaced by the intoxicating confidence that had always defined him, but it was there—a crack in the armor he never let anyone see.

“And if you ever leave me…” His lips, warm and impossibly soft, brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice low and dripping with quiet menace. “I’ll find you. No matter where you go, no matter who you run to, I’ll bring you back. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

His hips rolled against yours, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate thrust that left you gasping. His broad shoulders shifted beneath your trembling hands, his muscles taut as though holding back the full force of his need. “But you wouldn’t leave me, would you, puppy?” he asked, his tone softening, almost tender, as his lips found yours again. His dark eyes searched your face, his long hair framing his sharp jawline as though daring you to deny him. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

You shook your head, your thoughts too scattered to form words. His kisses deepened, his tongue sweeping over yours as he swallowed every moan, every gasp, while his hips began to move with increasing fervor.

“Good,” he whispered, his lips curling into a wicked smile against your skin. His teeth grazed your collarbone briefly before returning to your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses that left you trembling. “Because I’d ruin anyone who tried to take you from me.”

The promise in his words sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care—not when his hands held you so tightly, his firm grip anchoring you as though you might slip away. Not when his voice dripped with honeyed praise, rich and deep like a melody meant only for you. Not when the way he moved against you left your mind spinning with nothing but him. Not when you were this close.

He kissed away every gasp, every whimper, his words sinking into you like a mantra you couldn’t escape. “And I’m yours. Always.” Those words came out with a whole list of rambles, as his pace quickened. The angle of his hips driving into you with full force and practiced care.

His hands never faltered, guiding your hips with deliberate care at first, his strong fingers curling around your waist as though he could mold you to him completely. He let you set the rhythm briefly, watching through half-lidded eyes as your movements made you shiver and sigh in his arms. But when your legs trembled with exhaustion, when your pace faltered, he took control entirely.

“Just trust me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his grip tightened, pulling you flush against his broad chest. The heat radiating from him seeped into your skin, leaving you breathless as his voice dipped lower. “Be a good puppy and let me take care of you.”

And you did. You melted against him, your cheek pressing into the firm warmth of his shoulder as his hands moved your hips for you, his pace quickening until you were left clinging to him helplessly. The shift in control left you hazy, your thoughts scattering as his low hums rumbled through your body like a steady heartbeat.

“Look at you,” Suguru cooed softly, his voice dripping with praise as his hips snapped upward to meet yours. His dark lashes fluttered briefly, framing the heated look in his eyes as his lips brushed over your temple. “So perfect, so obedient… You’re such a good puppy for me, trusting me like this.”

You felt yourself unraveling under him, the steady rhythm of his movements and the way his hands held you firmly, securely, driving you closer to the edge. His lips ghosted over your neck, pressing soft kisses that left your skin tingling, his whispers weaving through your mind like a spell. You weren't sure who was the addicted one anymore at this rate, he was just so intoxicating. You didn't even care what you were agreeing to by being his.

“You’re fucking mine,” he repeated, his voice trembling with something raw, almost desperate. His dark eyes, half-lidded and glinting with intensity, burned into yours as his hips rolled faster, his breathing growing heavier with each movement. “No one else can have you. No one else can make you feel like this. Say it, puppy. Say you’re mine.”

The plea in his voice, the sheer force of his presence, left no room for hesitation. His long, dark hair clung to his damp temples, strands brushing against your flushed cheeks as you gasped, “I’m yours,” your voice trembling, your words barely more than a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone thick with satisfaction, a wicked smile tugging at his lips as his strong hands tightened their grip on your hips. His pace quickened, each thrust more deliberate, more insistent, as though he were imprinting himself into every part of you.

Your body tensed, trembling in his hold as heat overwhelmed you, his relentless movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out softly, clinging to his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his taut muscles as waves of pleasure rippled through you.

Suguru groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he buried himself deeper, his release following yours in a shuddering rush. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you against him as though afraid you might slip away, his strength grounding you even as your limbs went limp in his arms.

His head dropped to your shoulder, his long lashes brushing against your skin as his breaths came in heavy, uneven pants. The heat of him radiated against you, his broad chest rising and falling as he clung to you, his fingers now stroking your back in slow, almost reverent movements.

He pressed a final kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing a vow. “You’ll always be mine,” he whispered, his voice low, possessive, and tinged with a vulnerability that cracked through his usual confidence. For a fleeting moment, it was as though he feared the very idea of losing you.

And as you lay against him, too worn to think, too lost in the haze of his touch to resist, you felt the weight of his words settle over you like a chain you couldn’t break—and, in some part of you, didn’t want to.

It wasn’t like Suguru was a bad partner by any means. In fact, he was perfect. Almost too perfect.

He was like a man pulled straight out of a drama, always knowing exactly what to say, what to do, to make you melt under his touch. He made you feel good, even if the acts he coaxed you into were sometimes a little embarrassing, leaving you flushed and breathless in his arms.

“Good pup,” he’d murmur with a satisfied smirk as he filled you to the brim over and over, the praises rolling off his tongue like honey. He had a way of making you crave his approval, of making you feel special—his and his alone.

And after he consumed another curse, when the bitterness lingered in his mouth, he’d find you, need you. He’d kiss you deeply, claiming your taste as his salvation, before trailing his lips down your body, leaving you trembling beneath him.

When he reached the place where he craved you most, his tongue would glide between your thighs, his movements deliberate, calculated. His firm hands gripped your hips with a strength that kept you from squirming too much, though the way you trembled beneath him only fueled his need to have his tongue buried inside you. Suguru reveled in the way you gasped and moaned, your body arching into him, surrendering to his touch. He’d drink your juices as if they were the key to getting that awful taste out of his mouth, his tongue teasing and coaxing until you fell apart, only for him to push you further, again and again.

He especially savored the moments when you gushed on his tongue, your legs quivering, your hands clutching at his hair or the sheets. He’d slow down just to torment you, letting his tongue flick against your sensitive clit in slow, lazy kitten licks, watching as your body writhed, overwhelmed by the overstimulation. Tears would pool in your eyes, your vision blurry as you looked down at him, and Suguru would grin, knowing he had reduced you to this state.

But his favorite indulgence came after, when he pushed himself back inside you, filling you completely once more. When he was spent, he’d make sure nothing went to waste. Suguru would lean down, his tongue slipping between your folds to lap up the white sticky mess he left behind. The act was as much for him as it was for you, his gaze locking onto yours as he gathered the mixture of your arousal and his release. Then, with calculated slowness, he’d spit the warm substance onto your tongue, his voice a low growl as he commanded, “Swallow it, pup. Every drop.”

But Suguru wasn’t always this intense, this insatiable. He had a sweet side, one that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

He’d hold your hand as you walked together, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that felt almost innocent. At night, he’d pull you into his chest, his arms a protective cage as his breaths evened out, soft and peaceful. His presence was comforting, grounding, even if you sometimes caught a glimpse of something darker lurking beneath.

Your parents adored him.

The first time they met Suguru, he was the picture of charm—polite, attentive, and disarmingly sweet. He brought your mother flowers, complimented her cooking with such genuine enthusiasm that she beamed for the rest of the night. He helped your father carry groceries without being asked, engaging him in an easy conversation that left your dad chuckling over some shared joke.

“He’s wonderful,” your mother whispered to you that evening, practically glowing. “The kind of man every parent dreams their child will marry.”

And for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe it.

After all, Suguru was wonderful. He made you feel seen, wanted, cherished. He kissed away your doubts, held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. But beneath his sweetness, there was something possessive, something all-consuming that clung to you like a shadow.

You tried not to think about it too much—the way his smile tightened when someone got too close to you, the way his hand on your waist sometimes felt like a claim. Because when he held you at night, his voice soft and full of love as he murmured how much you meant to him, it was easy to forget the weight of the chains you wore

#jujutsu kaisen #yandere #yandere suguru geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto x reader #yandere suguru x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto #yandere suguru #mean sugu

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yourtypicalhuman09 · 1 month ago

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Hay 👋 I have a request if you don't mind.

So I love crows. They are very smart and loyal, hold grudges and debts. They can learn to talk and are smart like a 5 or 4 year old human. It also seems that they are getting Smarter. Also dangerous. They gard nests of Robin's from predators and when the eggs hatch they kill and eat the babies. They teach each other and their babies even about who is good and who is bad. They are also known for adopting. I found a video of a crow who adopted a kitten, the crow protects and brings insects and meat to the kitten.

I'd like to ask for a yandere Batfam with a meta reader who turn to a crow.

Imagine it's being a bat!mom or more so a crow!mom. Or maybe a sibling. Imagine them being one of the older siblings.

It's up to you actually.

Ahhhh this is such a cute idea! thank you for requesting this! I'll try my best to write this idea! I've been researching some facts about crows for some deeper ideas and I found that crows are highly social and mostly stay in groups, consisting of family members and other crows who are mutually benefited, where even juvenile crows help their parents raise their young and parents mate for life. Crows are also very goal oriented and understand cause and effect, so they do certain things to get a certain outcome. crows are actually so cool lol! Anyways I did so much research for this on both crows and the batfam time line so I hope you all enjoy!

P.S. I wrote this in 2nd compared to the 1st person i wrote my main fic in because i wanted to play a bit with povs so i hope you don't mind.

Birds of a Feather

(Yandere Batfam x Meta Crowmom Reader)

!!TW!! Choking!! Cursing!! Mentions of Cheating!! Death!! This is an AU!!

You and Bruce met long ago, you were just a young fledgling with no one to call family. You're parents long abandoned you, raising a meta was not what they signed up for, leaving you to fend for yourself in the cruel alleyways of Gotham. You were savaging for food in a nearby garbage bin when you heard a loud

BANG!

The startling noise was followed by the broken sobs of a young boy. You carefully flew over and gazed solemnly upon the tragic scene, having seen the cruelty of Gotham's streets before you understood the gravity of death. you softly placed a wing upon the boy's shaking shoulders offering some comfort in such a heartbreaking moment. The boy had something you never did, a loving family, and it was taken so cruelly in an instant. you sat with the boy for what seemed like hours, cooing a soft melody of bittersweet comfort, until the worried yells of another human interrupted the scene spurring you to fly away. Despite the young boy's cries for you to come back you never did, but he never forgot about the young crow girl who provided a sweet song of hope when he needed it most.

Years go by before he sees you again, you were savaging through the hidden dark alleys of Gotham as usual when you heard the soft voice of a familiar boy. You turn around to see him, he had grown into a striking young man with sharp manly features and clean expensive clothing hinting to immense wealth.

"Do you remember me?"

He spoke softly as if he were in a dream, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

"Of course how could I forget... You were the young boy who lost his family in front of his eyes..."

The man closed his eyes, exhaling in relief and ecstasy before opening his eyes once again to gaze at your beautiful figure.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this... come home with me."

Your eyes widened and your breath hitched... home?... did you deserve such a thing?... You looked down at your monstrous claws and your dark ragged feathers, you ran your tongue across your sharp dangerous teeth, and you closed your eyes to hide your inhuman black eyes.

"I-I can't... I'm a monster..."

Your eyes shot open when a calloused gentle hand caressed your face while the other held one of your claws.

"You're beautiful... These narrow arched claws, beautiful... these smooth sleek feathers, beautiful... those straight white teeth, beautiful... and most of all, your glossy onyx eyes.... beautiful..."

You couldn't help but cry, no one has called you beautiful before... With nothing more said you went home with him in comfortable silence.

You came to learn that his name was Bruce, a strong name fitting such a strong soul, you couldn't help but always call his name with softspoken adoration. When Bruce learned your name was (Y/N) he wasn't any better, always looking for any excuse to call your name with endearment. It broke his heart to have to keep up his playboy persona while his sweet bird waits at home for him but he did not have a choice. Oh how he longed to proudly announce to the world that his love was a gorgeous crow woman and have a grand luxurious wedding to show your everlasting love. It crushed him to keep the relationship a secret and grit his teeth as other women touched and flirted with him at galas, he wanted nothing more than to be home with you. It was even worse seeing your face at your small private wedding with him, you were so content with something so small even though you deserved the world. The nights made up for it all, breezing through the streets of Gotham and fighting crime with you was the highlight of his day. It was Batman and Crowwoman for life, he made sure you were safe from public harm and hate for being a meta by keeping you a secret during the day and showing you off to the world and fighting alongside you at night. You loved to collect little trinkets for your little nest with Bruce during the day and you milked every moment with him at night, soaring through the skies and fighting crime. Life was great you had a warm home, delicious food, a kind butler, nice clothes tailored to fit you, and a loving sweet husband, but you couldn't stop the creeping loneliness from hurting your isolated soul. You understood why no one but Bruce and Alfred could know about you but crows were naturally social creatures. The crows you spoke with tell you stories of the lively parks of Gotham filled with loud children, laughing friends, warm parents, and the bustling sounds of life. The manor was quiet and dreary during the day despite all of your efforts to make the manor feel homely, it was no job for a singular person. Something was missing... and that missing piece was finally found with the arrival of a certain young boy.

When Bruce brought Richard home and explained the young boy's past you rushed to embrace the boy in your soft feathers ushering Bruce to quickly adopt him. You showered the boy in your love, sending the boy off to school with the best homecooked meals you could make, filling his room up with toys and trinkets, and always spending time with him when you could. When little Dick first became Robin you were hesitant at first, not wanting your precious little bird to get hurt, but once he proved himself as capable you were overjoyed. Now you'd all have family bonding time fighting crime together, with Bruce zooming though the streets in the Batmobile and Dick flying with you on your back. There was even a sweet girl, Barbara, who became Batgirl. The family was growing, but then there was an accident and Dick was shot in the shoulder by Joker, afraid that in the future he might get worse you and Bruce decided to end his career as Robin. But there's something that no one has told you before, parenting is hard, and so after Dick continued his vigilante life with the Teen Titans as Nightwing he and his father had a fallout and he left. You were distraught after Dick left, although you both stay in contact, it's just not the same.

"Baby bird please come home you know your father didn't mean what he said."

"I'm sorry mama but I'm not a kid anymore... I'll come visit you sometime but that's not my home anymore..."

You were inconsolable, your cries only dying down when you slept in the small nest you made in Dick's old room with Bruce cradling you in his arms humming your special song.

You found new meaning when Bruce once again adopted a new orphan, Jason. The little boy was such an adorable ball of sunshine you couldn't help but spoil him rotten with all of life's joys you could provide. You still missed Dick and the Deja vu would hit you hard when Jason flew with you on your back as the new robin, just as Dick used to do... but after a long call with Dick where you cried and confessed that you felt like you were replacing him, Dick assured you that he's not sad or mad but actually happy that you're happy once again with another child to keep you company. Jason made the manor feel so warm and lively with his sweet childlike antics, you couldn't help but adore the child but also worry for him. One day your worst fear came true, during a mission another accident happened, but unlike Dick, Jason didn't survive and Barbara became paralyzed. Your whole world came crashing down the day your sweet little innocent Jason died, this time even Bruce's gentle embraces and comforting words couldn't console you. The manor's crows mourned with you as you sat in front of his grave through rain and snow, your wails and songs of mourning could be heard miles away. The atmosphere in the manor shifted after that, Bruce drowned himself in work and you stopped going with him on missions opting to stay in front of Jason's grave instead. Bruce could only watch you wail and scream in front of Jason's grave through his office window, his heart shattering for their lost child and his heartbroken wife.

"MY BABY COME BACK MY BABY DON'T LEAVE MAMA ALONE PLEASE BABY COME BACK!"

Salvation came with the arrival of Tim, a smart boy who longed for the loving embrace of a family who wanted him. The young boy passed the barrier around you and Bruce's heart becoming another member of the tragic Wayne family. Traumatized by what happened to your last two children you were extra protective of Tim, and thankfully Tim found your protectiveness endearing but when it came too much he was sure to tell you. You and Tim bonded through making new gadgets to use during missions, and although you don't go out on missions anymore, you stay at the manor with Barbara, now Oracle, and watch over Bruce and Tim making sure they're safe. Soon yet another sweet girl joins and becomes the new Batgirl. Cassandra, such a quiet yet smart and talented girl, it was nice having yet another girl in the family. Life was finally setting into a better comfortable rhythm... but nothing can last.

Jason returns and you can barely recognize your poor child. He was covered in scars and his eyes were filled with rage and hatred. The buried sorrow from his death resurfaced with vengeance and your sorrow grew as he accused you and Bruce of replacing him with Tim. You cried and begged him to believe you, that you'd never replace him, and after many arguments and a few injuries due to his lash outs, he finally came to believe you. You wouldn't let him go after he accepted your affection once again, and to be honest he didn't want to let go either. It was heaven being reunited and bonding with your lost child, tracing over each other's scars and reminiscing.

"I missed you mama... I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay baby... it was never your fault... never..."

Once again everything was getting better, and there was yet another member added to the ever-growing family. Stephanie was another incredibly intelligent girl you had meaningful conversations with and worked with during missions. Everyone fit so perfectly into the complete puzzle that was the Wayne family. The puzzle was finally complete and gone was the devastating loneliness you once had, or so you thought... because out of no where came a puzzle piece with such a big impact it could break the puzzle as whole. Damien Wayne... That small boy brought all of your relationship problems with your oh-so-perfect husband crashing down. Bruce, the same man who held you so tenderly whispering sweet words of love and devotion, had cheated on you. You screamed and wailed tearing apart your nest and cawing in hatred and betrayal. You were so distraught, but you never fought with Bruce in front of your children. You tried to make peace with Damien but he only drew his sword and spit out hateful words of how you'd never be his mother. You looked to your other children for comfort but they only gave excuses for Damien and Bruce. They only wanted to keep the family together but in the process they were breaking your heart. You were confused and heart broken, you couldn't understand why the family whom you gave unconditional love and care to were treating you like this. The crows of the manor seemed to be the only ones on your side, they were also confused on how your mate could've betrayed you like this and how your family could take his side. Hatred filled your broken heart and you lashed out, screaming and clawing at Bruce begging for answers.

"WHY WHY WHY WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? TO US? HOW COULD YOU!? YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I HATE YOU!"

"I'm sorry... It was a mistake... I'll fix it..."

"YOU CAN'T FIX THIS!...I-I WANT A DIVORCE!"

Bruce went deadly silent after your words, his eyes dead and hollow.

"...What did you say?"

The coldness in his voice and the way his aura shifted dangerously made you feel uncertain.

"I-I said I wanted a divorce..."

You spoke softer, stepping backward in caution as Bruce began to dangerously advance toward you. His large calloused hand shot out to wrap around your throat leaving you to helplessly squawk and flail.

"We are not getting a divorce"

Despite the finality of his words you would never stay with a cheater. You clawed and flailed until he let go due to a particularly deep cut to his arm. Once let go you quickly flew away not looking back. Despite the man's screams for you to come back you never did, but he never forgot about his sweet wife whom he needed back in his arms.

You lived your life once again in the alleyways of Gotham, you always mourned the loss of your once perfect family but they were the ones who betrayed you. With no one nearby, you flew around an abandoned building looking for food until you were suddenly shot in a wing causing you to squawk loudly in surprise and pain. You crashed into the hard concrete below, ripping out feathers and scratching your tender flesh as you fell.

"I'm sorry ma I had to... I was wrong before please forgive me... You're the best mom I could ever have."

"D-Damien..?"

"Shhh ma don't talk too much you're hurt. Bruce and the others are coming they'll help you okay."

You couldn't help but weakly stare at the young boy in shock. Your heart beat rapidly and you nearly peed from fear, Bruce... he's coming... Was he going to punish you for running away? The way he had choked you when you threatened divorce proves that he isn't past hurting you... God you were so scared... You tried to get up to fly away but that only resulted in you flopping heavily back onto the ground and Damien worriedly trying to get you to lay back down and stay still. You tried to get back up but you suddenly felt an excruciating pain in your head and a loud

SMACK!

And everything went dark.

When you woke up you were in an all-too-familiar room... It was you and Bruce's old shared bedroom. You had bandages covering your head, wing, and any other places with injury. You were locked in the room, but that wasn't the only this that caused you great distress. You looked down at your wings and found that your wings have been clipped. You let out a loud distressed scream alerting the other inhabitants of the manor. Bruce and your children burst into your room with worried and disheveled looks.

"My love is everything okay!? Are you hurt!?"

"MY WINGS MY WINGS MY WINGS!"

Bruce only gave you a sympathetic look and moved to hold you in his arms to comfort you. Your children only watched silently as you shook and cried in despair.

"I'm sorry my love but it had to be done... We can't have you flying away my little crow... This is your home I even adopted another child for you to take care of since I know you love taking care of children. His name is Duke you'll love him... We won't ever let you go ever again..."

Bruce cooed and cradled you in his arms as he sang you your special song. The same song that you sang to him when he lost his parents, the same song he sang to you when Dick left, the same song you sang to Jason at his grave, a song of despair and loss now come back to haunt you just as it always has.

Divider credits: popmilky and k1ssyoursister

Author's note: Wow this is the longest I've ever written lol. This was super fun nevertheless and I'm glad that this was my first request. Like I said this is the first request I got but I still have more to write but I will be writing those soon as well as the next chapter of my main fic so stay tuned! Like always thank you all for reading and I hope y'all have a good day/night.

#x reader #batfam #yandere batfam #yandere platonic #batman #yandere batboys #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #yandere #yandere romance #yandere batman #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown

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mimasroom2 · 9 months ago

Text

Hot tub time ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Ellie x reader modern au/slice of life

I have a hot tub but we need to get it fixed. I’m literally so eager so I wrote this LMAO. I LOVE SLICE OF LIFE ELLIE X READER SM!! Expect a bunch more, I have so many ideas written down😚 Im so sappy grrrr,,, I already wrote kinky ass sex so here’s soft sex for u guys😋

C/w: smut lol. Ellie + reader have their own house YAHOO! A bit of fluff in this one >•<. Au but Joel is still dead 😞. He’s mentioned like once. Cunnilingus😝 (r! Receiving) I feel so awkward using y/n like seriously and unironically ahhhh.

W/c: 2.4k

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“I’m actually so fucking bored I’m gonna gouge my eyes out.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. Ellie is always so damn dramatic. You glance over and she’s pretending to pull her hair out, large fistfuls in each hand.

You playfully shove her, “Okay, shut up Ellie.” And you both laugh. It was winter, and she was right… sadly. There was nothing to do during this time of year. Well, besides stay in and cuddle. The only problem was.. you’ve already done that. You two were both off work for the holidays, and you’ve already spent the wholeeeee vacation laying in bed together, so you guessed that Ellie wanted to do something a little more active.

“Wanna play Mario kart? I think the switch is in the bedroom.” You try suggesting, absentmindedly rubbing her leg.

“Nah,” she stretches her arms out on the couch, “Somethin’ more like physical yknow. Gotta keep these pretty muscles toned.” She winks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re actually such a gym rat, you should just live there at this point.” You smirk to yourself, examining your nails.

“Maybe if I did I wouldn’t constantly trip on all the shit you leave around here.” Ellie remarks back, lightly kicking you on the knee.

“Hey, I keep it pretty clean considering we both share a room, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and huff.

Ellie gasps and starts kicking you more, so you yelp and start shoving her away. Suddenly she stops, holding out both her hands. “Holy fuck, babe. Yknow what I forgot about?”

“Huh.”

“Hot tub.”

You sit up at lighting speed, “OH DAMN YOURE RIGHT!” You actually can’t believe you forgot about that thing. You try to remember the last time you even used it.. must have been last summer. The hot tub was one of things that you’re OBSESSED with at first, but then you use it one too many times and you forget about it for a couple months. And then the cycle continues.

Ellie leaps off the couch and bolts down the hall. “GET YOUR SWIMSUIT ON WE ARE GOING IN!!”

You come outside and see Ellie lifting up the top of the hot tub. The whole things underneath a roof outside, so there’s not much snow in the porch where you two are standing, but it’s still really cold. You look up at the sky. The sun is starting to set, it’s been a little over an hour since you two had dinner. Delicious deer soup that Ellie made from when she went hunting a couple days ago. You always said that if Ellie was stuck in a post apocalyptic world, she would survive.

You suddenly remember the cold air hitting you, breaking you out of your thoughts of your girlfriend. You shiver, and pull the robe you’re wearing tighter around your body. You glance over at Ellie still messing with the top of the hot tub. All Ellie’s wearing is her classic swimsuit: plain black top and swim shorts. Her tattoo flexes as she finally pops the top off and turns the hot tub on.

You jump up and down in your slippers, trying to move to stay warm. “Ellieeee how much longer?”

She reaches down into the water and starts poking around at the buttons and jets. “Hold your horses, y/n, I gotta check all the filters n shit. Haven’t used this in a hot minute.”

“Mmmm I know but it’s cold.” You groan in protest. You know damn well you’re being a brat, but you swear you’re not built for any weather too hot or too cold.

“Well you wanna shut up and help me? Make it go by faster..” She looks up at you and you shake your head vigorously. “Yeah thas’ what I thought.” She smirks at you.

After what felt like foreverrrrr in the cold, Ellie turns the jets on and says you can hop in. There’s steam coming off the water as it hits the cold air. You can barley wait, you’re hyping the hot tub up in your mind. It’s something that feels like a luxury to you. The only thing that can make you stop thinking about your precious hot tub is your precious Ellie. You look up at her and get butterflies, even though you two have been dating for about 2 years now. She looks soooo beautiful, just standing there, folding up the tarp from the tub. You shake your head, thinking it’s so damn stupid to be drooling over your girlfriend who’s literally just standing there, doing the most mundane possible thing.

Some snow falls on top of your head so you brush it off. It’s getting too cold for you. You lick your lips, turning around to shed your rob, you’re still slightly shy undressing in front of Ellie, even though you’re still in a swimsuit. You hang your cute pink robe up on the hook where the towels you brought out are.

Turning back around to head into the tub, you see Ellie with her back towards you, messing around with the water guns from last summer. You check her out unapologetically, looking at her ass before you snap into reality again and take your slippers off to step into the hot tub. The hot water feels like it burns your skin, compared to the cold winter air. You take a couple minutes slowly sliding more of your body deeper into the water.

Ellie turns around, with one water gun still in her hand. “Feel alright, babe? Not too hot?”

You sink in deeper, up to your neck, “Mm feels good.” And then rise up again slowly, “Come in, Els. I’m gettin’ bored in here.”

“Oh yeah?” She closes one eye and lifts up the gun, suddenly shooting a short stream of cold ass water at you. “Not so bored now, huh?” She laughs and walks closer to you.

Your jaw drops and you scream when the water hits you, “ELLIEEEEE WHAT THE FUCKKKK!”

“What?” She fakes a pout, lowering the water gun. “I told you I gotta keep these muscles in good shape, right?”

Before you can retort, she’s already getting in the hot tub. “God, shove over. I’m freezing.” She accidentally splashes you as she’s hastily getting in.

“Ellieeeee! Don’t splash me! >~<“ you whine, but she just laughs, and this time splashes you on purpose. You sigh dramatically at all her antics.

She doesn’t reply, and just sinks in deeper, and you take no shame in watching her stretch her body out. Ellie groans slightly at the hot water enveloping her body. You sigh and blink at her, watching her eyebrows furrow. She slowly leans her head back against the headrest of the hot tub. You swear she’s egging you on, because she moans softly, giving you the perfect view of her neck, which she knows is your favorite place to kiss her. Suddenly, Ellie opens her eyes and says something that breaks you out of the trance you’ve had all day, “You keep lookin’ at me. What’s goin’ on?”

You let yourself float away from her in the water ever so slightly, “Nothing. I’m not looking at you.”

“Yknow I can like,,, feel your eyes burning into my back whenever you stare at me.”

You cover your face with your hands and

face away from her. She laughs to herself. She finds it so cute you still get flustered around her even after all this time you’ve been together.

“That’s too bad because I’m reallyyyy not looking at you.”

Instead of a snarky remark back, Ellie’s abnormally silent. You slowly bring your hands down to face her again, and she’s just looking at you with this look in her eyes. You think it’s somewhere in between concern and contemplation. “You trust me, right?” She says softly, after a few moments. You’re surprised, this is probably the quietest Ellie’s ever been with you.

“Of course I do. What’s wrong, Ellie?” Her tone is completely different than what you’re used to. This only happens on the rare occasion you guys have a disagreement. Or when you talk about something serious.

“Jus’ don’t want you thinking I’m gonna leave you.” She says, almost ashamed. She’s fidgeting with her fingers like how she always does, and avoiding your gaze.

You laugh softly. “Were you….. going to?” You can feel your heart rate speeding up.

Ellie’s eyes widen, “No. no no no.” She sighs, slowly, taking a few moments to collect her thoughts. “I get scared thinking about the future.” She mutters.

You look up at her. You knew Ellie gets scared. Of course she does. When she told you about Joel dying on what, your second date, you knew she’s not as… sturdy.. as she pretends to be sometimes. But that was in the past, and to hear Ellie admit she is worried about her own life ahead of her.. honestly made you surprised.

“Like.. I just want you to know that I’m always gonna be here for you.” She looks so concerned, like she might cry if you guys talk about this for any longer. She’s still looking down, trying to make herself smaller.

“Oh, Ellie.” You raise your hand up and softly tilt her chin to look at you. “I know. Okay? And nothing bad is gonna happen to you. Or me. Or us.”

She looks into your eyes for a second, before she gently tucks your hair behind your ear, leans in, and kisses you.

The kiss is as soft as she’s been talking - all emotion and thought as her lips move slowly against yours. She puts her hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You sigh into the kiss. She was so tender with you right now. You were so used to fervent and desperate make out sessions with her. Not that that was bad, at all, but you didn’t realize how nice of a change this was until it was happening. You grab her waist, pulling her in closer to you. All of her is so soft and warm against you: her lips, tattooed arm, thighs.. and not just because you two were in the hot tub.

She pulls away to look at you, and you want to melt from the look on her face. She looks like she’s actually in heaven.

“I really love you.”

You smile softly at her, tracing over her tattoo lightly with your finger. “I love you too.” You pull her back into a kiss. After a couple more minutes, she’s more intent with her movements, like how she usually is. She’s not afraid to run her hands over your thighs and squeeze you nipple under your swimsuit.

You gasp at the sudden contact, and moan a little into her mouth.

She pulls away, “Cmon, baby. Need more of that.” and kisses you again, almost immediately licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance. She’s not as soft anymore, back to her usual self wanting to make you moan in pleasure as she works your body. You don’t even try fighting for dominance, just letting her tongue dance around yours as she pleases.

“Ellie…” is all you have to say, and she understands, shifting her position to let you have more of her. You want to press yourself down onto her, and please you both at the same time. You lift your legs up, trying to hook them around her, but you start floating away in the water. You’re not even going fast, it’s so comical how slow the jets are pushing you. You snort and reach out to grab Ellie’s hand.

“Ohmygod!” Ellie starts laughing and she grabs your hand, “Can’t exactly scissor in the water, I guess.” You blush and scoff at how forward she can be.

“Cmere. Let’s get ya propped up.”

You untie the knots on you bikini bottoms to take them off, tossing them somewhere you’ll pick up later. She grabs your hand and gently guides you to sit on the edge of the hot tub, on one of the corners so you don’t lean back and fall off. She brings your arm down to her face, and kisses you on the back of the hand. You smile and giggle. You swear you feel like a little girl again. You’re a princess and Ellie is your prince. You glance up at the sky - the sun is setting. An array of orange and pinks.

Ellie’s below you, turning down the jets of the tub a little, and getting into her favorite position: right between your thighs. You really couldn’t ask for a more perfect fantasy if you tried.

“This okay?” She asks, lightly rubbing your thigh with her thumb.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “please, Ellie.”

From where she is, you’re practically a goddess towering above her. You feel powerful and confident, and fucking desperate, wanting Ellie to just devour you already.

Ellie only hums in response before kissing your clit. You gasp sharply, you swear no matter how many times she eats you out you could never get used to the heavenly feeling. Her tongue starts lapping you up, and you moan loudly. You silently thank the neighbors for never being outside late during the winter, and that the hot tub is reasonably private, so no one can see you.

Maybe it’s just the cold frigid night air in comparison to Ellie’s warm, wet mouth, but you swear this is some of the best head she’s ever given you. Ellie never stopped licking and kissing at your clit - eventually she didn’t know if you were shaking from the sex or shivering because of the cold, but either way, she could tell from the volume of your moans that you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Mmmmmm- gonna cum soon..”

Ellie just nods, her face still buried into you. You can feel her cute little nose bumping up against you, and both her hands are up on your knees, spreading your thighs open for her.

She knows you’re close when you start whimpering and gasping for air.

“Ohmygod ohmygod Ellie,, fuck- you’re gonna make me cum..”

As soon as you warn her you’re throwing your head back, and your hips snap up as your orgasm takes over you. She keeps licking you clean until your breathing slows and you let yourself sink back down into the hot water.

You can’t even think of anything to say, so you grab Ellie’s arm and wrap it around you, as a way to ask her to cuddle you.

“Always such a cuddle bug after you cum..” Ellie mutters, mostly to herself, as she rests her head on yours.

You just chuckle and look up into the sky as the sun finally sets. You sigh in and out the cold winter air. Ellie kisses the top of your head, whispering one more ‘I love you’ as she pulls you closer into her arms.

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞