#Minecraft smut

[eternalbright-star]

Just the thought of being chased by Herobrine in the woods has got me feeling something, like, this being has got me feeling something ever since I was young.

Like imagine?

You're out at night in the forest, trying to head home as quickly as possible to avoid encountering too much mobs on your way.

Only to be stopped by Herobrine who trips you to the floor and basically eyes you like his prey🥺

Instead of killing or hurting you, he has you pinned onto the ground, and fucking deep into you with his cock? Dumping load after load into you, marking you like his own territory.

All while his tentacles squeeze and play with your body, your mouth gagged by a tentacle he shoved down your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brutally fucks into you with rough vigor. 😊

You basically belong to him now after, because in a sense, he's made it clear that you are his and nobody else's.

Because there will be no way he is letting you go after that.

Full fic will be posted soon! 😝 Full fic here.

[lia-r-lia-r]

this is where i post from btw.

[angy-mouse]

Night One

I have no chapter summary I have no content warnings all I have is the contents of a post-it note I wrote at 2 am:

soft zomboi eats you passes harkness test?

.... anyway 18+ ahead bye-

<Prev

You spawned in a gorgeous flower field. Blues and reds and pinks and yellows for miles on end, blanketing the earth as far as the eye could see. You picked them as you walked, crafting a flower crown for yourself before starting on a necklace to match. Floral scents wafted on the breeze, mixing together into a natural perfume that wrapped you in the spring-like bliss that made the passage of time irrelevant.

Until the sun set. 

Long fingers wrapped around your ankle before you even realized the hand had burst from the ground like one of the many blossoms around it. You tasted dirt as you fell to the ground, heart thrumming in your ears as you were jerkily yanked towards the hole again and again. You heard your own shriek ringing through the quiet night as you fumbled for a hold in the loose dirt, sneakers kicking about wildly before you grew the sense to kick the hand. 

You wrenched your body to the side, throat tightening as you laid eyes on your attacker, halfway pulled out of the ground. 

Something happened. Both at that moment, with your core throbbing in a cruel act of betrayal, and before that. Before you spawned. Because suddenly you could hardly call him a monster. His skin held a sickly hue and he was coated thickly in dirt from crawling out of his own grave…

But his hair looked soft and silky where it hung over crystal blue eyes. The kind of eyes that you saw only on actors and just went wow. The kind of eyes that, when you stomped on his fingers because you were already in motion for fight or flight, showed his pain as clearly as if it was written on a neon sign. 

He released you, and you were sure that moan sounded like an, “ooooooow.” You weren’t an idiot, though, so you scrambled to your feet and you were going to run for your fucking life to find some trees to make a sword-

His eyes became wider than saucers as he started sinking back into the ground. Already filthy fingernails carved thick trenches in the loose dirt, quickly turning into a frantic scramble as he desperately searched for anything solid enough to grip.

It was only as his shoulders sank beneath the grass that you realized he wasn’t trying to pull you in: he was trying to pull himself out.

You snatched his hand just before it disappeared. 

“Fuck me,” you grunted, anchoring your heels as much as you could in what was practically quicksand. You got him pulled up enough you could grab his forearm with your other hand. “Fuck me with a fucking cactus!” You could hear him spitting out dirt but didn’t bother looking, searching for a more solid place to pull towards. “Stupidest fucking idea ever, I’m so going to die for this.” Your ankles were hit by the cold dirt. The more you pulled him out, the more weight displacement dragged you in. If you didn’t find a more solid patch before you got him out…

The flowers. 

It hit you like a shot of adrenaline straight to your heart, kicking your legs into motion. 

Flowers have roots, roots hold the surrounding dirt, get to the flowers. 

You kicked up more dirt than a racehorse charging towards the nearest flower patch. He couldn’t do much to help himself until his feet were free, but long fingers held your own with a grateful kind of desperateness as you dragged him through the loose dirt. When your foot didn’t sink in where you stepped, you gave one final tug that yanked him free-

And knocked you on your ass.

The wind was knocked from your lungs when you landed on your back, then again as the zombie landed on top of you. Your heart thudded in your chest as his hot breath washed over the bare skin of your collarbone, shirt disturbed from your adventure. His lips ghosted over the tender skin just above your breast, shocking a realization into you.

Three, actually.

The first was that there was a flesh eating monster pinning you to the ground.

The second was that he was groaning out, “aaaaan koooo,” which, after only a minute, you deduced to be ‘thank you.’

The third was that that was not a sword poking you.

“Crap,” you groaned. “Okay, no biggie, just gotta make an opportunity to escape-”

His hips rutted against you, a deep moan falling from his lips as if surprised by it himself. His pants weren’t denim like yours- the soft material did nothing to impede the swell of his cock as the friction against your thigh spurred blood flow south. He took a shaky breath against you as if trying to control himself, but it turned into another moan. 

“Sweeeet…”

Sweet. He thinks you smell sweet. You are so getting your brains ate. GG.

With no sword to fight back, you clenched your eyes shut tight and accepted your failure as his jaw fell open, diving for your neck to sink his teeth-

Mwah.

Your eyes blinked open.

Mwah. Mwah.

Vibrations rumbled up the column of your throat as the zombie hummed, a happy noise reminiscent of a tamed cat that perfectly matched the curl of his lips, but nothing else about this situation. 

His tongue swiped across his dry lips to wet them and inadvertently caught a taste of your supple skin, dick jumping in his pants as the sweet flavor worked to completely fill his every sense with you. The flowers combined with your natural scent already had him breathing deeply, and the feeling of your soft body pressed against his as tight as possible-

His lips parted, capturing your neck. Your breath stuttered in your lungs as his tongue laved over the skin, teeth working ever so gently at it as if merely trying to work more into his mouth- as if the thought of biting you was never even entertained. His hips took a smoother pattern, knees digging into the grass on either side of your thigh to better roll against you, still suckling on your neck. 

What could you do?

Technically, lots. You could shove him by the shoulders, headbutt him- your knee was actually in a very optimal position for doing damage. 

But he was moving lower. He was dragging his lips down your collarbones and his hips were moving faster against you and his hot breath washed over your nipples through the thin fabric of your tee-

And he was moaning, mouthing at your tits as he came in his pants- and came, and came. You could feel it soak right through his pants- god there’s no way he’s wearing underwear, how was he buried without underwear?

Focus! After coming so hard, he’d surely be disoriented: you needed to prioritize your escape! Except…

Did you?

Because surely there were other monsters roaming the night, but none seemed to be coming near you. Maybe they were put off by the sounds and smell of sex, maybe they couldn’t see you where you laid in the thick grass. Whatever the reason, they weren’t approaching, and he was pawing at the crotch of your jeans.

“Soooft,” he moaned, clumsy and thick fingers rubbing rough shapes over your mound. He was about as precise as a musket, but even a stopped clock could grind the denim seam against your clit twice a day.

Or something. 

It was hard to think. You were trying to ponder the ethics of intercourse with a technically dead but clearly coherent individual. Did it count as necrophilia if they’re undead? Did this pass the Harkness test? Shit, why can’t you remember what the Harkness test is? 

“Wan…”

You blinked. Baby blues peered into your own eyes. His hands stopped. He licked his lips and his brows furrowed. 

“Want,” he tried again, “wan eat too-” A sound came out of his throat, having begun deep in his chest and worked its way through him. It sounded truly monstrous: the first sign since he crawled out of the dirt that he truly was a zombie. 

He shoved his face in your stomach, shaking his head. Your first instinct it to shove him off since it really looked like he was going to gorge himself on your liver, but you managed to calm it into a minor twitch of your leg. He hadn’t shown you any harm so far, and what little compassion you had left after years of playing this ‘game’ compelled you to show him the same respect. 

When he lifted his head again you could see the sparkle of budding tears in his eyes and that small bud of compassion bloomed larger. Your hands moved faster than your brain, one combing through his dirty hair and one cupping his upturned cheek. His entire body went lax at the touch, weakly moaning as he laid his head on your stomach. 

You came to the dreadful conclusion that he looked good like this. He had a sharp profile that was softened by long lashes that drifted over his cheekbones every time he breathed deeply, his breaths out being shakier for a reason you couldn’t quite tell. You could feel him growing hard again, pressed against your shin this time.

Fuck, he was big. You told yourself there was no harm in thoughts, that they were impulsive and therefore couldn’t be held to ethical standards, because you didn’t want to hate yourself when an attractive guy was grinding his monster cock against you. Monster, you reminded yourself. A mob. But thoughts were okay. There was no harm in thinking about how wrecked you’d be if you fucked yourself on his cock. 

He growled again- that monstrous zombie growl that was somehow so out of place coming from him. “Shellsa sweet,” he mustered up, voice strained and breathy as he pressed his lips against the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up. “Wan’ tank koo. Wan’ eat too. Peas!”

Something clicked. Something connected in your brain. The tears made sense if they were of frustration. Frustration as this completely coherent grown man was suddenly unable to form the words he wanted- the words he needed to convey.

You smell so sweet. 

I want to thank you. 

I want to eat you.

Please!

He took a deep breath, and it dawned on you how close he was to your weeping cunt when he moaned, hips bucking down on your leg like he was ready for another round. Like he had no more control that a horny mutt, humping your leg like that. But he didn’t move otherwise. He’d asked. Now he’d wait for you to either agree or not, you realized. He was lucid enough to ask for consent, and he was sure as shit lucid enough to respect it. 

You supposed that solved your dilemma. 

“Fuck me- yes,” you managed with a thick swallow. “Yes, I want it.” You could practically watch your words sink in: he was glowing when he realized. Surprisingly not disgusting teeth bared wide in an eager grin before he pressed hard kisses down your navel, grunting displeased when your jeans didn’t pull away at the first tug. “Let me-”

He did not let you.

He took a firm grip on either side of your button and tore right through the seams until you had a pair of denim leg warmers.

“Okay, that works, too, I guess. Fuck, I’m gonna have to kill so many cows for some leggings now-” He removed your panties the same way and discarded them on the grass. “Motherfucker, you really- hoooooo fuck!”

He dove tongue first into your pussy like he’d been through a drought. His moans vibrating through your very core as he ate you out as eagerly as if the act pleasured him as much as you. And maybe it did, because as his nose rubbed against your clit, his hips jerked wildly against you. He grabbed the meat of your thigh with both hands, yanking it up to hold tightly against the side of his head to open you up, letting his tongue drive deeper until it was lapping at your g-spot. God, his tongue was long. He was reaching farther into your core than your fingers ever could- you weren’t someone who easily came without clitoral stimulation, but he was making a damn good go at it. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, one clumsy hand left your thigh to paw mindless but determined shapes against your bud, using his own thick saliva to ease the calloused pad of his finger over the sensitive nerves. Despite the animalistic way he fucked his tongue into you, he stayed perfectly attentive to the slightest change in your moans, exploring your body with his hands and tongue until he found the most amazing combination of movements to have you grinding against his face. And he seemed to love it, moaning into your pussy as you shoved his nose against you to the point you were sure he couldn’t breathe- if he ever could. 

You could hear him come again, but more importantly you could feel his movements become more determined, more forceful, as if he was desperate to give you the same pleasure you’d given him. And that was the thought that pushed you over- the thought that rang through your mind as everything else was drowned out by a tidal wave. 

You didn’t do anything but let him service you.

Just from that, his pants were wet against your leg.

He moaned louder than you did as you came, tongue curling inside you as if he was trying to steal every last drop of your cum. He carried you through your orgasm, only pulling his thumb away from your clit when you started twitching, trying to jerk your hips back but having no strength left to do so. His tongue stayed, lapping up every taste of you from your fluttering cunt before he started kitten-licking your folds and clit, soft hums vibrating through your sensitive nerves as he made sure he’d taken everything he could from you. 

When he climbed back up your body you could feel his giant cock already back to half-mast, but bigger than that you could feel his wide grin as he pressed tender kisses up the side of your neck and face, hands gently exploring your body still, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist as he held you tightly against his body. 

You were just about ready to tell him to take you now and hard when he let out an ear-piercing shriek. His screams bounced around in your skull, paralyzing you as he scrambled off your body, showing a glimpse of a fiery red burn spreading over his arm.

The sun was coming up. 

He dove for the tall grass, but the weak fibers flattened under his weight. Golden rays burned a path over any exposed skin, peeling through muscle and bleaching the bone beneath faster than light. He leapt for his grave in a last ditch effort, sinking back into the cool earth.

There was a minute where you just laid there, listening to the birds wake with the dawn. The warm sun kissed over your bare skin as if taunting your lover. The feeling of eyes on you washed over you, even though you knew that was impossible with the sun killing all the mobs, but you still found yourself crossing your legs.  “... What the fuck.”

[missplaguedoc]

Have you ever read Minecraft smut with a bit of lore on the side? No? Want to?

Hi there!!! I'm Lilith Relish, an ao3 writer, and after a lot of time and having finished the first part, I wanted to share with you all my creation...

Minecraft: BL Edition

And what is this? You will ask...

Well, it's a very wide range of things. From a troubled gay mess called Steve, going through humanoid monsters like a cute creeper, a tsundere skeleton and a very very sweet Enderman, (and more), lore that I came up with and a lot of smut and that sweet sweet harem style that we all love, you'll be on a wild ride through the world of Minecraft.

Hope you all like it, and hope that you enjoy the art that peppers the fic, from myself and the wonderful @lustsright-handman (hi there, mate).

A bit of what you'll find in there...

[just-here-nico]

Jail for this man

[thedevilsoftruth]

Went to the theatres with @madijones tonight, and we took pictures by the Thunderbolts posters. As I was looking at them, I noticed that Bucky's kinda got a little bit of grey on him. I know it's just the heavy editing of the pictures, but I swear it's there. Let me be delusional for a moment, please. I'm so desperate for old men.

So imagine you're married, and he's getting a bit older, and he's got those little streaks of sliver running down his beard. AND Imagine what it's like when he's got his pretty little head between your thighs 💜

Salt and Pepper

Tags: Old man bucky love, yet another beard appreciation post for Bucky. Cunnilingus, squirting, vaginal fingering, and finger sucking 💜💜 not beta read

So many years of doing this to you, and he still fucks you like he's in his 20s again.... Or at least he tries. But he's got his head between your already trembling legs, licking you up with his beard lightly scratching your skin. He's got his strong hands holding your thighs apart as he works his mouth against you, getting you all puffy and sensitive for him. Just like he likes it.

And when he pulls his head back a little from your aching center just to spit on your pussy? Heaven in earth.

He slithers the two of his flesh middle fingers down your core to spread his saliva all around you before he goes back down. When his lips are back on you, your back is arching and your hips are bucking towards his face, begging him for more. He's groaning against your soft mound in pleasure, circling his tongue around your clit before he takes it in his mouth and sucks on it gently. And while he's moving his jaw up and down against your or whenever he lays his tongue flat on you and shakes his head, you can feel his salt and pepper beard grazing your skin.

And when you're getting close to orgasm, he's just groaning and moaning filthy things to you. " Come on, honey. Pour your sugar on me. Right on my beard, yeah? " As his pretty blue eyes are looking up at you. He redoubles his efforts. Maybe he pushes two of his flesh fingers Inside you, trying to bring out that orgasm even more. And it works because in the matter of seconds, your moans are getting more loud and broken.

" Baby, you taste so good. Wanna be drowned in you. " He praises, his eyes shutting as he curls his fingers right into the little spot he knows you so badly needed touched. He does that little thing again where lays his warm tongue flat on you and gently shakes his head. You squeak, and he sucks and slurps a straight but messy line up your pussy until he draws toward your clit. He flicked his tongue up and down it before sucking on it once again, and his fingers pump deep and fast in your cunt. And just like that, you're gone.

It. Gets. Everywhere.

From his facial hair sprinkled jaw, the the middle of his nose, to the little white towel placed underneath your hips. But Bucky has that kind of affect on you; making you cum hard whenever he's got his mouth on you. This last time has you gasping, your entire body shaking, your hips especially stuttering beneath him and your thighs quivering around his head. Your fingers in his dark, greying--but full hair become loose, and your body relaxes as he urges you to calm down with soothing massages to your thighs.

" fuck, " he moans lowly and slowly, his eyes rolling back as he lets your taste flood his senses. And you just cannot stop cumming; whimpering, covering your face in embarrassment as you squirt all over him. Just like he wanted.

" Christ's name, look at that. " He chuckles lightly, leaning back a little to look at the little fountain show between your legs. When the moment dies down, he withdraws his fingers from you, a little bit of your juices slipping out of you when he does so. He leans in to take you in his mouth one more time, his tongue eagerly lapping up at the mess between your thighs.

" so messy, baby. " He moans, smiling like a fool as he cleans you off. You're so over-sensitive that you thought you were gonna cum again just by his tongue simply being on you. His facial hair just gets even wetter as he moves against you.

As he rises up, you notice that his hair is now messy from your fingers being curled into it for so long, and his facial hair is absolutely dripping with your essence. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He doesn't care that he's gonna get even wetter by you, because he's already considering having you crawl up his body and sit on his face.... If his neck will allow it and if you can take it.

" Fuck, you taste so good. " And you do, because he's holding up his right hand to you, urging you to lick his fingers off. " Lick it off for me, yeah? " You do, and you clean the little mess you made straight off his fingers. " Good girl. " He praises, his voice gruff and low. He swipes his tongue across his lips, already missing your flavour on his tongue. "Tastes good, doesn't it? " His eyes twinkle as he smiles at you, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes becoming more defined with his smile. His mind is already racing with so many ideas of what he could do to you next and you don't even know it. You think you're done.

[ Sorry, not sorry for the terrible Def Leppard reference. I feel like Bucky would be in his 80s classic dad rock era during this time, and honestly, so am I. Requests are open btw. 💋💜]

[artists-who-rarely-draws]

hi! i'd like to ask for a laurance nsfw fic if that's ok? mostly just him guiding you through it and being so sweet through out it!

Minors! DNI! 18+ Only

Oh yes, yes, you ABSOLUTELY can!!! Ah so exciting!! Also this is my fist ever smut fic sooo-

Synopsis: You and Laurance haven't had your first time yet, and before you do, you want him to teach you how to make him feel good~

▪︎☆Pretty Please☆▪︎

"F-fuck" he whimpers tightly clutching the sheets at his side, the warm candlelight shining on his tense jaw as he restrains from reaching out to touch you.

Funny how just a experimental brush of your hand to his cock could have such a reaction.

"Heh, warn a guy, huh?" He gives a half chuckle face flushed dark as he reaches forward to lace his fingers with yours.

"Let's slow it down huh? There's no rush," he coos softly "start off with some of the oil first, it'll make things smoother for both of us" he whispers, pulling your hand towards his lips to place a small chaste kiss to your knuckles before he releases it to lean back again. Letting you do as you please at your own pace again.

The sight in front of you is maddening, Laurance bare, looking down to you with blown out pupils and kiss swollen lips, illuminated in the dark room only by candlelight. Attempting to rub your thighs together for any semblance of relief while you focus on your brunette lover.

Dribbling some of the oil from the flask over your fingers, you hear Laurance's breath hitch as you rub the lubricant between your fingers. A shiver runs through you at the way his pale blue eyes are alight with lust.

"FUuck Love~" Laurance groans pitching forward and lolling his head back when your hand wraps around his base. Breath picking up speed as you slowly raise and lower your fist around him, he's warm and incredibly smooth in your hand.

"h-hold on" he whimpers putting his hand over yours to stop you, the worry you feel must be evident on your face as he inhales a sharp breath then coos at you. "Hey your... fuck your doing so good- I just, wasn't ready for you to leap in like that-" He gives a debauched Moan as your hand twitches causing you too lightly squeeze his cock. Squeezing his eyes closed tightly your eyes flash back down when warm pre drips down your fingers moving your thumb up to brush over the head in response causing his hips to buck into your first in turn. "Ah- that feels so good- please-" he whines lightly releasing your hand so you can continue slowly stroking him. It's easy to ignore the pulsing heat between your legs with Laurance's low groans and whispered praise. Eventually the moment gets ahead of you, salivating at the clenching muscles and debauched expression on your lover's face, you don't allow yourself a moment to be nervous or think as you lean forward to take his leaking head into your mouth, its salty with a metallic tang but it's hard to think about it with the guttural noise that tore itself from the guard or the way his hands flew to your hair holding you in place as thick hot cum paints the back of your throat. The taste isn't very pleasant but what comes after is. As soon as Laurance is clear of the aftershocks of his sudden peak he gathers you up in his arms. Pressing sloppy open mouthed kisses all over your face, no hint of hesitation about the taste of himself on you " 'm sorry" he whispers " I love you so much, so so good" and a million more sweet nothings whispered against your skin until his heart rate slows. Just as you wrap your arms around his neck contented to stay entangled with each other for the night he smirks "You're turn."

[junediesintheend]

"He said I had nice lips...who says that?"

Quackity smut, not dating, f!reader, smut with plot, use of his real name.

Most people find it awkward to be straddling their best friends lap, their hands on your waist. You are like most people in this sense, so it's a bit surprising that you're in Quackity's lap, doing his makeup and trying not to blush.

His thumb traces circles in your side, you can feel his gaze all over your face as you do his eyeliner. His touch induces a feeling you've never felt before, deep in your core. There's fluttering in your stomach, making it hard to concentrate. You've always had a small thing for Alex, you don't know if he reciprocates those feelings though. As you perfect the eyeliner, putting on the finishing touches, you can't help but make accidental eye contact with him more than once.

"Y/n." he says, making you jump slightly as you were deep in thought. "Yea?" you say, trying to act casual. "I don't want to rush you but..." Alex says, glancing at the clock on the wall before looking back at you, piercing into your eyes. "The party starts in 1 hour and you still aren't ready. Maybe quicken the pace?" he chuckles slightly at that last part, his laugh always made you smile. "Don't rush me Alexis, I know what I'm doing." you joke, finishing off the eyeliner. He laughs again, gripping your waist slightly tighter as you lean over to grab the blush, holding you in place.

"We'll give you only a little bit, okay?" you say, dipping the makeup brush into a like pink powder. "I don't doubt you know what you're doing, so okay." You catch him glance at your lips when he says that, which makes your face tingle as a familiar red tint makes its way onto your face.

You apply the blush lightly to his cheek, hoping, praying, that this will be over soon. Alex's hands move slowly from your waist to your hips, and as you shift slightly in his lap, you swear you hear his breathing become slightly irregular for a split second. No doubt that was a reaction, to you. You. This was all so much, you dont know how you've made it this far without smashing your lips into his.

"Y/n." "Alex we'll get there in time I promise." He smiles, finding it funny you assumed he was going hurry you again. "No, not that, I just wanted to tell you you have nice lips." You pause for a second, your eyes slowly meeting his. "Thank...thank you." You say with a smile. If your acting was successful at not showing your awkwardness, then you deserved a golden globe because what the fuck was that stutter....

He was acting weird, why was he acting weird? "I'm almost done, don't worry." You say, breaking the awkward silence. "Take your time Y/n/n." he says a little soft. He was doing that voice, not the stream one, but the one where his voice got a little low and there was a slight deep rasp in his voice (please tell me you guys know what I'm talking about). You do the finishing touches, and lean back to admire your handiwork. He looked cute, cuter than usual. He definitely should try guyliner more.. "All done." You announce.

He removes his hands, allowing you to get up and grab the hand mirror. He looks at himself for a good while before looking up at you. "I look great. Thank you so much for the help y/n." He says, standing up and stretching. Maybe it won't be awkward if you just...

"Anytime Alex...." You hesitate before asking, "why did you...why did you say that? About my lips earlier?" He smiles slightly, moving closer to you. "It's true y'know...you have really pretty lips." He was now right in front of you, and though he was only one or two inches taller than you, he looked down at you, searching your eyes.

He reaches a hand to your faces, cupping your cheek before leaning down for a kiss. You were a bit surprised, but soon lean into the kiss, cupping his face in your hands as his slowly finds their way to your waist. He licks your bottom lip,, requesting entrance, and you grant it to him. With his tounge exploring every inch of your mouth, Alex takes this opportunity to let his hands do the same with your body. He pulls you back to the couch, not breaking this kiss once, and makes you straddle his lap once more.

SMUT BELOW !!!!

His hands slide under your shirt, the coldness of his hands making you shiver. "Fucking hell..." he whispers against your lips, "fuck...fuck y/n I..I need you." his voice low as he talks, your lips brushing against each other. You swallow deeply, no turning back now. "Then have me Alex." He hesitated, smirking at your answer before picking you up and laying you on the couch in one swift movement.

He kisses you again,, more wet and hungry this time while his hands move down, his fingers hooking your pants. Alex looks up at you, "Can I?" he asks, tugging slightly on your pants. You nod, consenting for him to go further. Pulling down your pants gently, you shift your legs and hips to help him as he begins to kiss your inner thigh, his hands moving back to hold you down by the waist.

A small moan escapes your lips as he kisses further, his lips next to your entrance. "You're so beautiful, you know that right?" He whispers against your inner thigh, pulling down your panties. You nod, shifting slightly. His grip on your hips tighten's slightly, as he looks up at you from in between your legs. "I'm going to make sure you know that." He places a soft kiss on your pussy, sucking on the clit ever so slighty.

Alex lifted himself on top of you, smashing his lips into yours once again. Your mind was racing, this is what you've been wanting. Not necessarily just sex, but for him to want, you as much as you did him, in more ways than one.

You broke the kiss pushing him away slightly, lifting off your shirt as he did the same, his chest was now gloriously exposed in front of you. He wasn't ultra fit, but he still looked amazing. Hishands move down, a tingling sensation fills your core as he grazes your skin softly, his thumb soon begins to play with your clit. You gasp, looking up at him as he smiles. "Does that feel good?" He asks softly, kissing your neck. "Fuck, yes... it does..." You say in between moans. The bulge in his pants begins to grow at the sound of your pleasure, and he leans into your neck, whispering against your ear. "I love your noises," he says, sticking a finger inside of you, "I love your body, I love you." He sticks a second finger inside you, curling them up slightly to hit your g-spot repeatedly.

"I...I love you...too." You pant out, arching your back upwards as you get close to finishing. "Fucking hell you do." he says before removing his fingers with a sudden swift movement, leaving you empty and aching for more. You look up at him, your eyes begging for him again, as you were oh so close.

"Hold on baby." he says, noticing your neediness as he undoes his pants. You don't even mind the name, it makes your heat throb more. You look down, his bulge way more apparent through his boxers, the sight of it fulfilling something in your mind, yet you don't know what. He leans back down, kissing you as he palms his member with one of his hands and unclips your bra with the other.

Slipping it off with ease, Alex hungrily smashes his lips into yours. He knew what he was doing, clearly, and as the kiss goes on, his lips move from your lips, to your neck, to your tits.

He sucks on one gently, biting it softly while holding the other in his hand as you let out breathless whimpers of pleasure. "I want to make you feel so fucking good." He whispers against your breast, your nipples hardening. His hand gently squeezing one, the other positioning his member at the entrance of your pussy.

"I'll go slow at first, okay?" he said, reassuring you. Not that he was big, but he was a little more than average. You nod, readying yourself for the feeling. You needed to feel him, your pussy already wet from the thought. He kissed your neck softly, slowly pushing in.

Fuck.

You haven't done this in a long time, so you forgot the feeling. Your body shudders as he oushes deeper inside of you, and he makes small noises against your neck. "Fuck, you're so tight," he whispers, "Are you okay?" You could feel every vein, every throb, it was a little painful, but it was like you were made to fit his dick. You nod, trying not to make too much noise. He notices this, and thrusts inside you, enticing a yelp out of you.

"Don't hold in your noises, please?" He breathes out against your neck as he begins to thrust slowly. He gets up, now hovering over you, and grabs your arms, pinning them above your head. He looked so hot like this, and you watched his face as he began to slowly thrust into you. Your face contorts slightly, as it was still a little painful, but you let out moans of pleasure. "Yea just like that baby..." He pants, marking your neck as he fucks you. Thinking back to all the times you played with yourself thinking about him, this was better than you had imagined.

"You're doing...so well." he praises between grunts. He looked into your eyes, which were still watching him, and you felt a knot grow in your stomach. "Alex im...i...close..." You say breathlessly, your eyes fluttering to stay open. He thrusts faster, leaning into your neck, "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick."

Your walls tighten as he says that, sending you over the edge as finish, a state of euphoria washes over you, your mind now fully corrupted. Though when you come to, he continues to fuck you through your climax, your legs starting to shake as waves of pleasure continue to surge through your body. As you become overstimulated, you start to get louder, your eyes fluttering to stay open.

"Just a little more baby, I'm almost there." He says against your neck, his whimpers getting slightly louder, and his thrusts getting more sloppy. The sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder as he goes faster, relentlessly pounding your pussy. He gets up, drapinging your legs over his shoulders and letting your arms free, his thrusts getting more sloppy by the minute. After a little bit, he finally finishes, thrusting his hot, wet seed inside you, covering your walls.

Alex let's out a loud grunt, burying his face in your neck as you wrap your legs around him, your pussy tightening around his dick as he fills you up, his hot seed covering your insides. "Good...fucking girl." He releases your hands, letting his arms rest on both sides of you, his dick twitching slightly inside of you. As you both come down from your highs, breathlessly panting on each other, you cuddle him, your hands tangled in his hair as his arms are wrapped around you.

Then suddenly, he chuckles, before saying between pants, "I think...I think we're late to the...party."

(I didn't know how to end it </3)

[eternalbright-star]

I don't know what to tell you man, being Herobrine's pillow princess? I'm all up for it, he's a strong entity that could definitely bend me over any surface, but much more preferably in bed.

That way I can just bury my face against my pillows, that muffle my whines and moans as he hits it from the back, his glowing white eyes watching as his cock disappears into my pussy, sucking him in so desperately.

One hand gripping my hair, and the other is placed on my hip so he can guide me back against his.

And the aftercare! Mans will hold you in his arms, rubbing a hand through my hair while I lay on his chest, sound asleep.

(I HAVE NOT POSTED AFTER MY FIRST HEROBRINE FIC SO PLEASE SEND ME ANY IDEAS)

[wordsverbat1m]

everyone should stop writing brokenpickaxe minecraft smut fics because theres a fic where garrett and steve enchant their cocks and have sex so hard that herobrine spawns. so i think that cant be topped really

[roxabellas]

How Dirty Girls Get Clean

｡･:*:･ﾟ༓･*˚⁺‧͙ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚₊✩｡˚☽

part one part two

word count : 8,139

warnings : sex work (but it's not really mentioned in this one), cheating (he's still married), age gap (19 & 38), pussy eating, small tiny miniscule IMPLICATIONS of a feet kink, daddy kink, he's miserable

One night turned into another.

Then another.

Then another.

At first, it was once a week, like clockwork. You'd see him somewhere while you were out working, outside a bar, on a street corner, lingering outside a hotel lobby, trying to pretend he wasn't just there with the sole purpose of waiting for you. He'd approach you quietly, like he hadn't spent the past few days constantly thinking about this, even though you could tell he had.

Then it was twice a week. He'd stopped booking you for just an hour completely by that point. It wasn't enough. He only wanted whole nights with you. Those nights, though, he didn’t always fuck you more than once. Majority of the time, he just wanted to talk afterwards, like he needed the company more than anything. To lie there with you, his fingers tracing idle patterns across your bare skin as he let his thoughts spill out.

His wife came up in those thoughts more than you'd expected, especially since you'd thought he bought all these hours with you to get away from her.

Some nights, he said he loved her, how good of a woman she was to him, how they used to plan having a family together.

Other nights, he said he barely recognised her anymore, barely recognised himself, that they aren't the same people who got married to each other.

And you listened. You always listened.

And maybe that’s what kept him coming back as much as anything else. Maybe it wasn’t just the sex, the way you let him take what he wanted, the way you moaned daddy for him just the way he asked. Maybe it was the way you never judged, never asked him to be anyone other than who he was in the moment.

And then it became three times a week. He usually took you to a bar first, whether it had a hotel attached or not, just to spend a bit more time with you in a way that felt “normal.” He didn't want you to think he was just after the sex.

At first, it was just hotels. Different ones each time, never the same place twice in a row.

You didn’t even think about it anymore. About the fact that you were sleeping with the same man over and over, even though that had never been the plan. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. You were meant to be a fleeting thing, a temporary indulgence. Not a habit, but that’s what you had become to him. A routine.

Then he asked you to come to his house.

It was late when he brought it up, in yet another hotel room, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting a soft, golden shadow across the crinkled, once pristine, white sheets. He was lying beside you, one arm folded behind his head, the other idly tracing patterns against your inner thigh, the two of you still naked. He’d been quiet for a while, and you thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then, in that same low, thoughtful voice he always had when he was about to say something he probably shouldn’t, he asked, “Do you want to come to mine?”

You turned your head towards him slightly as he said that, meeting his eyes in the near-dark.

“My wife's away for a few days. Visiting her sister,” he added, as if that made it any better.

You should've said no, that you didn't trust him enough for that.

No matter how much time he spent with you, how nice he was to you, how good he fucked you, he was still just a client.

You never went to clients’ houses. Hotel rooms, alley ways, even the backseats of cars occasionally when you used to be more in demand, but never their home.

Hotel rooms were sterile and temporary, just as your time with your clients was. Houses were personal and long-term.

But you didn't say no.

Maybe you should've, but you couldn't. Not to him.

Whether it was curiosity or stupidity that led you to it, you just nodded a little, looked away from him again, and murmured a quiet “Sure.”

It was the next night when you ended up at his home, but as you stepped through the front door, the reality of it settled into your bones.

“You found it alright, then?” he asked as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Looks like it,” you replied, walking into the hallway and pulling off your boots.

His house was nice. Clean but lived-in, the faint smell of aftershave, clean linen, and something vaguely floral.

He shut the door behind you with a soft click, then asked, already walking towards the kitchen, “Drink?”

You followed him into the kitchen, taking in the space as you walked. It looked expensive, but not overly modern. The furniture was tasteful, but not new, the kind of pieces that had been chosen years ago and left unchanged because they still served their purpose.

He poured you both a whiskey, the spirit sloshing into the short glasses, and handed you yours when you came into the kitchen. You took a slow sip as you let your eyes scan over the room, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your chest.

There was a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter, as well as a vase of flowers that had just started to wilt, and a shopping list pinned to the fridge with a small, pink, heart-shaped magnet. Little details that reminded you that this was someone's home. Someone's life.

“She'll be back early next week,” he said, breaking the silence as he swallowed his mouthful, swirling the liquid in his glass.

You weren't too sure what to say to that, so you just nodded once before setting your glass on the countertop next to you.

“You've got a nice house,” you mentioned, turning your head to look around the kitchen once more.

He tilted his head back and swallowed the remainder of the whiskey in his glass before placing it down on the counter next to yours, his voice rough as he replied, “Thank you. I didn't pick much of the furniture though.”

“Wife?”

He nodded and laughed a little, but it was dry, humourless. “She's always had better taste in all that stuff than me.”

Your lips quirked up in a small smile, and he watched you as you picked up your glass again and took a sip.

His eyes scanned over your face, taking in every inch of your fair skin, until his eyes drifted down to your lips, pressed against the rim of the glass.

He hadn't kissed you there before. He'd kissed you just about everywhere else, your back, your neck, your pussy, your feet, but never your lips.

A kiss was too intimate. A kiss would break the barrier. He could fuck you, talk to you, spend countless nights with you tucked into his arms, but kissing? That was reserved for his wife. Even if he didn’t know if he loved her anymore, even if he told you that he didn’t think he could say those words with conviction, even if he whispered to you in the dark, saying things he could never say to her.

Still, he wouldn't kiss you.

But his eyes still lingered.

Maybe he wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, to cross that final line, to solidify his disloyalty to his wife completely. As if he hadn't already.

He watched as you swallowed down the last dregs of your whiskey before he pushed himself away from the counter, turning towards the doorway leading to the hallway with a quiet, “Come on.”

You set your glass down on the countertop next to his, accidentally knocking it against his with a quiet clink, and you followed him out of the room.

As you walked with him, your eyes were drawn to the wall, and you saw them.

Framed wedding photos hung proudly on the walls, lining the hallway with what should've been admiration, but instead left a bitter taste on your tongue.

He looked younger in the photos, but not by much. His hair was a little longer, his suit smart and perfectly tailored, and a wide smile spread across his face. He looked free, untouched by the things that now weighed down on him.

You tried not to stare, but your eyes flickered from one frame to the next as you walked. They looked so happy, so carefree, his hands lovingly touching her face, her waist, her neck. The same hands that had now been all over you.

It was one thing to know he was married, of course you knew that, but seeing it like this, laid out before you in frames, made it feel real in a way it hadn't before.

He must've noticed your eyes on them, as when you turned back to him, he had stopped and was looking at you with a soft face, the tiniest hint of awkwardness lingering beneath his features, before he moved again and turned the corner to walk up the stairs.

When you stepped into his bedroom, there was another framed photo of him and his wife perched on the bedside table. It looked to be taken in another country, maybe Italy or France, either on their honeymoon or just on holiday.

The soft bedsheets had a floral pattern, a nice, more homely change from the usual plain white sheets in hotel rooms. There was an indent on one of the pillows while the other one was plump and smooth, indicating which side he slept on, that he'd probably been sleeping in the bed alone recently.

He shut the door behind you with a quiet creak of the hinges swinging and a soft click of it closing, and you turned to face him, arms folded loosely over your stomach as you watched him start to unfasten his jeans, a motion you'd watched him do countless times now.

As he shoved them down his hips, letting them crumple and pool at his feet before kicking them off, you asked him, “What do you want?”

Without hesitation, as he pulled his top over his head before perching on the edge of the bed, he said, “I want to eat your pussy.”

It wasn’t a request, wasn’t phrased as a question or an uncertain suggestion. It was direct and confident, and it sent a slow warmth curling through you, simmering deep in your lower stomach.

He'd eaten you out before, of course he had. He was the kind of guy who got off on making his partner cum, but still, each time he asked for it, it sent those same shivers through your body.

A slow smile pulled at your lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his gaze heavy. “Yeah.”

There was a quiet pause after, and just as you began to pull off your own clothes, sliding your skirt down your legs, he spoke up again. “You are staying the whole night, aren't you? I'll give you the money later.”

You nodded, lifting your shirt over your head, but then he asked, “Can you stay tomorrow too?”

Something flickered in his expression as he spoke, something almost hesitant. Vulnerable. Maybe a bit embarrassed, thinking he was coming off as desperate.

Staying one night was expected and had become the norm for you two, but staying two blurred the lines. Made it something else, as if it wasn't already something else.

“Yeah,” you agreed with a soft voice, reaching behind you to undo the clasps of your bra, letting the straps fall loose over your shoulders before tossing it in the same direction you'd flung your shirt in just moments before.

His eyes flickered down to your tits for a moment as he swallowed hard, admiring your soft skin and perked up nipples, his thick, hard cock outlined and straining against the soft fabric of his grey boxer shorts.

You climbed onto the bed, settling yourself against the pillows as he made quick work of kissing along the side of your neck, his rough, chapped lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

His lashes gently ghosted over your skin as he closed his eyes to gently suck on your neck for a moment before unlatching his lips to continue kissing down your chest.

He lavished both of your boobs with kisses, licks and sucks, massaging and squeezing one of them with his hand as he focused his mouth on the other one. His teeth grazed over your nipples as he sucked each of them into his mouth just enough, making you moan softly for him.

“Daddy…” you breathed out as he gingerly bit down on your right nipple, leaning your head back against the pillows as one of your hands came up to gently stroke his hair.

He moaned softly himself at that, at both your soft voice and the feeling of your hand on the back of his head, gently threading your fingers through his dark brown strands.

He made sure both of your tits were equally reddened by his desire before continuing his descent, kissing and licking stripes down your stomach until he reached your hips where he pulled away for a moment.

He settled himself on his front between your legs, leaning in and pressing a kiss right in the centre of your pussy, still covered by your panties.

He hooked his thumbs under the waistband, slowly pulling them down your legs, taking his precious time.

Just as they were almost off, your black panties now loose around your ankles, he held your feet in a way that he tried to make seem casual, like he wasn't thinking about it, like he was just doing it to help get them off, but you could tell there was more to it, something you could tell he'd rather not voice right now.

Once they were off, he set them aside on the bed before lowering himself down again, your thighs draped over his shoulders and his arms hooked under your hips, his wedding ring cool against your skin. He never took it off, even when he was inside you.

His breath was warm against your inner thigh, lips brushing your skin before his tongue followed, teasing, slow, just enough to make you shiver but not enough to satisfy. He always took his time with this. If there was one thing about him, it was that he loved this. He adored the way you reacted, the way you tensed and relaxed beneath him, the way you exhaled sharply when he finally dragged his tongue over your cunt.

His hands gently gripped your thighs as he dipped his head, licking a firm, deliberate stripe from your hole, all the way up to the hood of your clit before sucking it into his mouth for a moment, his lips sealed around it as he sucked gently.

You sighed softly, your back arching off the sheets ever so slightly as he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it again, suckling with just the right amount of pressure. He didn't rush, wasn't sloppy or desperate, instead he savoured it, tasting you like he had all the time in the world.

His stubble scratched lightly against your skin, rough in contrast to the heat of his tongue, but you loved it. And so did he, by the sounds he was making.

He groaned against you as he covered you with his mouth again, the sound muffled but sending a deep, aching pulse straight through your core nonetheless as his hips slightly bucked against the mattress. You could tell he was enjoying this, almost as much as you, if not more.

He ground his hips down into the mattress, trying to get some friction, to ease the painful ache in his cock, purely from pleasing you.

You rolled your hips up against his face with a moan as his tongue delved inside your slit, flicking it rapidly as he pulled another daddy from your lips, making him hum against your cunt while his nose nudged against your clit.

His hands started to massage your thighs as he got more into it, his tongue tracing all over every inch of your middle, until he unhooked his left arm from underneath your thigh.

He gently dipped his middle and index finger inside while he sucked on your clit, glancing up for a moment to meet your gaze. Your face was flushed, lips parted and eyes hazy, your chest still red from his previous affection and rising and falling quickly with your breath.

He smiled a little before his eyes fluttered shut and he slid his two fingers inside you all the way, his knuckles bending and curling in all the right places as he sucked harder on your clit.

You reached down, your fingers tangling in your hair for something to hold onto as he drove you closer and closer to the edge, the constant suction combined with his long fingers massaging that spongy spot nestled inside you was too much, sending you hurtling towards the edge faster than your mind could keep up with.

You moaned loudly, constantly, one of your hands making a futile attempt at gripping the sheets while the other tugged at his hair, the word daddy spilling from your lips with each cry.

With a final bend of his knuckles, a final flick of his tongue on your clit, you came. Your back arched high off the bed, your thighs quivering around his head, and you tugged so hard on his hair you thought it was going to rip out.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as your orgasm tore through you, and you whined a broken, “Fuck, daddy..!”

He coaxed you through your high, circling your g-spot with the pads of his fingers while he sucked on your clit until you gently nudged his head away.

He gently released your clit from his swollen red lips before slowly dragging his fingers out of you, teasing your oversensitive walls on the way out.

He pressed one last kiss to your clit, then another one to your lower belly before pulling away. He unhooked his other arm from underneath your thigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before sitting up.

He moved up the bed slowly, his hands gliding over your thighs, your waist, your chest on the way up.

He settled beside you, one arm draped lazily across your stomach while the other slipped underneath you, holding you close to him as the remnants of your orgasm ebbed away.

His fingers traced soft patterns along your side, his touch absentminded and slow. You could still feel the final dregs of your orgasm pulsing through you in lazy waves, your body still humming from the way he'd made you fall apart with his mouth.

Your breathing matched his; deep, slow and steady, and for a long while, neither of you spoke. His hand stayed on you, slowly and gently stroking your skin, until he moved slightly beside you, his hand still resting on your stomach.

He exhaled, shifting his head to glance down at you. “Do you want me to run you a bath?

You blinked up at him, surprised for a moment. You'd never been offered something like that by a client before. Once they’d finished, they either left or let you leave, or, if they’d paid for the night, they let sleep take over without much thought about anything else. But then again, was he just a client anymore?

You smiled a little, tilting your head against his shoulder. “Sure.”

A small smile pulled at his lips as well, before he slid his arm out from underneath you, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

You watched him for a moment while he ran a hand through his hair, and how he hesitated for half a second before standing up properly.

He pulled open the door of his bedroom and walked out, down the hallway to the bathroom. A few moments later, you heard a click as he switched the light on, followed by a soft creak as he leaned against the bath to turn the taps on. The rush of the water filled the air, a soothing sound, before you got up yourself, your legs still a little weak, and you followed him into the bathroom.

It was small but tidy and clean, the white tiles cool beneath your bare feet as you waited inside by the doorway.

He reached for a bath soap from the row of bottles in the cluttered shower shelves and crouched beside the tub before unscrewing the top and pouring some of the pale pink liquid into the warm water, filling the air with its soft, floral scent.

It wasn't his soap, it couldn't have been. It was too delicate, too “feminine.” It was hers. But you didn't say anything, didn't ask, didn't press. You just watched as he adjusted the temperature and swirled the water with his hand as the bubbles started to form, clouding the water in a soft layer of white foam.

The scent of the soap clung to the steam, making the whole room smell like her, like the woman whose wedding photos were hanging in the hallway, the woman who was supposed to be the only one in his bed.

When the bath was full and he was content with the temperature, he turned the taps off and straightened up before looking over at you.

His gaze flickered down over your body, still completely bare, before he just stepped aside, gesturing a little awkwardly to the bath.

You pushed yourself off the doorway and let him help you settle into the water. You winced slightly at the heat before he slowly lowered you down, letting the warmth envelop you completely, soothing your skin. You let your head rest against the edge of the tub, exhaling as the bubbles clung to your arms and chest, and he watched you with soft eyes for a second before he slid down to the floor beside the bath, his knees clicking quietly as they bent, his back resting against the tub. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his fingers tapping idly on one knee for the moment as he listened to the gentle lapping of the water as you shifted slightly.

He draped his right arm over the edge of the bath, his fingers absentmindedly trailing through the bubbles.

For a while, he didn't say anything. He just sat there, exhaling softly through his nose while his fingertips skimmed the water’s surface.

You kept your head rested against the edge of the bath, watching the steam curl upwards, feeling the warmth of the water seep into your muscles. It would've been comfortable, would've been peaceful, if not for the fact that the air smelled like her.

You heard him take a quiet, slow deep breath in before his voice cut through the silence.

“I don't know why I asked you to stay tomorrow.”

His voice was soft and low, like he wasn't quite sure if he was talking to you or just thinking out loud.

“I just… I don't want you to leave.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he wasn't looking at you. His head was leaned back against the outer edge of the tub, his gaze fixed somewhere on the ceiling.

You didn't respond, didn't know how to. You just let him talk, something you'd grown used to and fond of over the weeks you'd been seeing him.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before he spoke again. “I think about you a lot,” he admitted, his voice barely a murmur. “Even when I'm not supposed to.”

You let your eyes slip closed for a second, breathing in the warm, scented air. You wondered if he realised what he was saying, what he was admitting to. You wondered if he knew that once words like that were spoken, they couldn’t be taken back.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he continued after a moment, his fingers still idly stirring the water, the foam and bubbles twirling under his movements. “I don’t even know why I keep coming back to you. I just… I do.”

You turned your head towards him, resting your cheek against the porcelain tub, looking at the back of his head.

You could tell his jaw was tight, like he was frustrated with himself, trying to make sense of something that refused to be understood.

You watched the way his fingers played with the bubbles like he was trying to calm himself down, the way his knuckles tensed and relaxed, the way his gold wedding ring caught the soft glow of the overhead bathroom light. He still hadn't taken it off, not once, not even when he was talking about how much he didn't love her anymore.

“I think… I think I'm certain now. That I don't love her.”

His voice was quiet beneath the gentle sloshing of water, and a lump formed in your throat.

“I think I've known that for certain for a while now, but I just didn't want to admit it to myself. But at least that's the hard part done now, isn't it?” he let out a small sigh, something that would've been a laugh if it wasn't so bitter.

You should've told him to stop, that this was his marriage, these were his feelings, and that it had nothing to do with you, but you didn't, because deep down, you wanted to hear it.

So you let him talk. Let him confess everything in the dim glow of the bathroom, with your naked body submerged in his wife’s bath soap and his hand tracing lazy patterns through the water. You let him unravel, piece by piece, right there on the cold tile floor beside the bath.

He let out a breath through his nose as if trying to clear his head, and you stretched your legs out beneath the water. There was another few moments of silence that filled the small space between you two, until you spoke for the first time since stepping into the bathroom

“Do you ask her to call you daddy?” you asked, your voice smooth and curious.

He didn't answer you right away, just kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling above, his jaw tense. A flicker of something passed over his face, something that resembled shame, before he shook his head.

“No.”

You hummed, letting his response hang in the air for a moment before you replied. “Why not?”

He exhaled sharply and ran a hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Because she's not you. It's not like that with her.”

He turned his head towards his hand in the water, and you caught a glimpse of his face. Guilt. It was written all over him.

“You don't tell her a lot of things, do you?” you murmured with a gentle voice.

He shook his head slowly, and you asked, “What don't you tell her?”

His shoulders tensed a tiny bit, but just enough for you to notice. His fingers stilled in the water, and for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to answer, that he'd shake his head and change the subject, telling you it didn't matter. But then, he spoke again.

“Everything.”

His voice was quiet, almost lost under the drip of the tap.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your lips pursing slightly. “Everything?”

He let out a short, dry, humourless laugh, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling. “Yeah. Everything.”

He paused, his tongue slipping out and gliding over his dry lower lip like he was trying to find the right words before he continued. “I don't tell her that I don't think about her when I fuck her anymore. I don't tell her that I have to try to want her now. I don’t tell her that I don't even want her to touch me.”

He swallowed before adding, “I don't tell her that I think about you more than I think about her.”

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine despite the heat of the water, and he let out a long sigh.

“I don't tell her that I'm not happy, that I haven't been happy for a long time,” he admitted, his voice tight like the words were painful to force out. “And that I wonder what my life would be like if I never even married her at all.”

“I don’t tell her how much I think about leaving,” he continued, voice lower now, ashamed of the confession. “I don’t tell her how often I wonder if we’re just wasting time. If we’re just staying because it’s easier than leaving.” He sighed. “I don’t tell her that I’ve already left in my head.”

You didn't say anything, but your sat up slightly, your fingers curling against the edge of the bath as you shifted, the water sloshing against the sides of the bath as you moved. He lowered his hand further into the water as you moved, tentatively finding your knee before resting his hand there under the water.

“I don't tell her where I go at night, or that I drive around for hours just to be anywhere but home.”

He let out a shaky breath and swallowed hard, his voice sounding brittle as he added, “I don't tell her that I don't want to go home anymore.”

He gave your knee a slight, gentle squeeze, his fingertips tracing small, absentminded circles and patterns against your skin under the water. A fleeting motion, something to ground himself with.

His breathing changed, quieter, slower, but with a slight unevenness that betrayed him. His jaw was clenched, his Adam's apple bobbing with each thick swallow, and it was clear he was holding something back.

His chest rose and fell too deliberately, like he was focusing on it, trying to regulate it.

He kept his head tilted back against the outer rim of the tub, blinking hard up at the ceiling, like if he just kept looking up, the tears wouldn't fall.

He was trying not to cry.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he dragged his left hand down his face, as if he could physically wipe away whatever it was that was threatening to spill over. “This is pathetic.”

He sniffled and shook his head as if the war that was waging inside his mind would fall out of his ear, before he spoke again, his left hand clenched into a fist.

“I don't kiss you on the lips,” he said with a strained voice, like the words were choking him on the way out, “Because if I do, I won't be able to pretend that this doesn't mean something.”

You watched him carefully, his words hitting you a little harder than you'd expected.

He let out a breath, his fingers easing open again as he rubbed at the side of his face. “I can fuck you,” he continued, his voice quieter, trying to gain some semblance of control over his emotions again, “I can touch you, and I can say things to you that I definitely shouldn't be saying, but kissing is…” He sighed sharply. “It's different.”

You remained quiet, letting him work through his own thoughts and words.

“It's just…” he trailed off, turning his head back towards his arm half-submerged in the bath water. “It's too much.”

He gently rubbed your knee with his thumb while he spoke. “I used to love kissing her,” he admitted, his voice softer now, like he was talking to himself. “More than anything. Before bed, when we woke up, even when we fought, I’d kiss her just to remind her that I still-”

He cut himself off as his voice broke slightly, followed by a humourless breath of laughter. “I don't even remember the last time I kissed her like that.”

You swallowed, watching him as he kept his head turned towards his arm in the water. The way his lips parted as he took another deep breath in, his gaze fixed the remnants of the bubbles floating on top of the water, as if he was afraid that if he moved his eyes too much, he wouldn't be able to stop the tears.

“I can't kiss you,” he murmured again, the faintest quiver audible in his voice. “Because then this wouldn't just be sex. Then it's something else.”

His breath hitched, just a little bit, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His face had flushed, just slightly, his jaw tight, and his mouth had drawn into a thin line. He wasn't going to cry, he refused to, but he was close. He was so close.

“If I kiss you, then I won't be able to lie to myself about what this is.”

You inhaled slowly, letting his words settle in your chest.

He was already blurring the lines, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Maybe because he was still clinging to the remnants of his marriage, still holding onto the illusion that there was something left to salvage. Or maybe because he knew, deep down, that kissing you, really kissing you, would make everything that much harder to walk away from.

He ran his left hand through his hair before letting it rest limply on his bare knee again and he looked down at his lap, still in just his grey boxers from earlier.

“I have to remind myself sometimes,” he said quietly, his other hand shifting against your knee, making the water ripple gently under his movements. “That you're nineteen.”

He said the number like it burned his throat, like he could barely stomach the bitter taste of it on his tongue.

“I don't know. It’s easy to forget,” he continued. “I feel bad, keeping you to myself. You shouldn't have to look after some old man.”

“You're not old,” you say softly, a half-hearted attempt at reassurance.

“I'm thirty-eight. That's double your age.”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist.

“I shouldn't be doing this, I know that,” he said quietly, his fingers on your knee under the water resuming their absentminded patterns. “I can't stop. I don't want to stop.”

You stayed quiet, letting him say whatever else he needed to say.

His voice was even quieter when he spoke again. “I keep telling myself that this is just a phase, and that it’s just something I need to get out of my system.” He looked down at his hand. “But every time I see you, it just… it gets worse.”

His throat bobbed as he continued.

“I think about you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper now. “When I’m at work, and when I’m at home, and when I’m lying in bed next to her.” His jaw clenched, his breath coming a little shakier now. “I think about you when I shouldn’t.”

“And I can’t fucking stop.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he turned his head slightly, his left hand lifting and pressing his knuckles against his lips like he could physically stop himself from saying more.

After a few moments, he let out a long, shaky sigh. He lifted his hand up from the water and shook it as a half-hearted attempt to dry it, his fingertips wrinkled, and he stood up from his spot on the floor next to the tub, his knees creaking as he stretched.

He turned around and he reached for you, his grip firm and steady against your warm, wet skin as he helped you rise from the water. He placed his hand under your arms at first, lifting you up out of the bath gently before sliding down to hold your elbows, then down to your hands. The steam curled around you both, rising from the water in soft, ghostly tendrils, wrapping around your limbs before dissipating into the cool air.

He helped you step over the side of the porcelain tub, then he let go of your hands to grab the towel from the heated rail while you stood, water sliding down your skin in thin rivulets.

“Come here,” he said, his voice softer than it had been all night.

He held the towel open before wrapping it around you, his hands smoothing over your shoulders and your arms before drawing it snug around your frame.

The slightly scratchy fabric was warm against your damp skin, and he pulled you closer. He held you there for a moment, your bodies barely touching, his breath warm against your temple. Then, he started to dry you off, his hands dragging the towel over your arms, down your back, and across your thighs, the fabric absorbing all the water droplets.

Then, without much of a warning, he gently pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, then another kiss, on the curve of your collarbone.

He brushed the damp strands of your hair that still clung to your skin back before trailing his lips to the base of your throat, the movement slow and indulgent.

The towel moved with his hands, tracing the outline of your body with a soft friction against your skin.

He slowly dropped to his knees in front of you, his fingers gently gripping your thighs as he pressed a lingering kiss against the slight dip of your navel. Then he travelled lower, the scrape of his unshaven jaw dragging against your damp skin, pressing one to the swell of your hip, then the inside of your thigh, his breath warm as it fanned across your sensitive skin.

He leaned his head forward and gently rested his forehead against your lower belly for a few moments, his eyes closing, before lifting himself up again.

By the time he was done, by the time your skin was dry and his kisses had mapped out a path across your body, your heartbeat was unsteady, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, heavier than a tonne of bricks.

He wrapped the towel around you again, tucking it under your arms and folding it over your chest. He didn’t say anything as he took your hand, leading you out of the bathroom, down the hall, back to the bedroom.

The bedroom he usually shared with his wife.

It felt different stepping inside now. Before, you hadn’t really had time to think about it. It had been new, unfamiliar, but the weight of it had been lost in the heat of his mouth between your legs. But now, with your bare, damp feet sinking into the plush carpet, with the slightly unmade bed in front of you, with the dim glow of the bedside lamp he'd just turned on again casting soft shadows across the walls, it felt heavier.

He leaned over the bed, picking up your black underwear from where he'd put them after taking them off earlier, then turning around to pick up your shirt you'd discarded on the floor.

His fingers skimmed the towel where it was still loosely wrapped around you, then slowly pulled it away, letting it fall open before dropping to the floor. You stood there, naked in the soft lamplight, and for a moment, he just looked at you, down over your body, just taking you in for a moment.

He helped you back into your shirt, small damp spots forming on the fabric from where your wet hair still stuck to your back as the neckline settled atop your shoulders, before pushing your arms through the sleeves.

He held your underwear in his hands, glancing down at your feet for a moment before kneeling down, letting you step into them. His fingertips grazed over the tops of your feet, just ghosting over your toes, before pulling the soft fabric up to your hips.

The bed dipped as you lay down together, and he pulled the covers over you both. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest, his fingers sprawled, as if trying to touch as much of you as he physically could at once.

His warmth surrounded you and seeped deep down into your bones, but there was still something cold about the way he held you. Not physically. Physically, he was solid, secure, grounding, but emotionally, there was a heavy weight in his embrace.

You felt the tension in him, his chest rising and falling against your back with each breath, that small patch of hair on the middle of his chest gently scratching your shoulder.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your head, holding his face there in your hair for a moment, before pressing another soft, lingering peck to your temple.

His lips lingered just a fraction too long with each press of his mouth against your skin, then after what felt like a century of silence, he spoke.

“I do want to kiss you,” he whispered, that faint rasp threatening to creep in as his throat tightened just slightly, but he was still determined to not cry. “Properly.”

He let his head drop back onto the pillow, his eyes vacant as he stared at the back of your head. “She wouldn't even know,” he breathed, slowly swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “But if I did it, I feel like it would be worse than everything I've done already.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, and you could feel his heartbeat thrumming against your spine.

His hands, which had moved and touched with such certainty and deliberation while he was deep in the heated moment, now cradled you tentatively.

His breath was hot against the back of your neck, long and slow exhales flowing past his lips, and he gently stroked your side with his thumb.

“I want to have children, too,” he admitted quietly, a subtle tremor in his words, “I've always wanted a family.”

His arms curled around you tightened once more, his body seeking, needing, the comfort of someone to anchor him.

“I think I've left it too late for all of that,” he continued, and you heard him swallow as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he might not get to have the life he always wanted. “I don't know. If I split up with her, I don't think I'll be able to find someone else who'd want children. With me, I mean. Someone my age.”

He pressed his forehead to the back of your head, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him. “I won't be able to find someone who’d want to build a life with me. Again. But if I do, if we get to the point where we'd be stable enough to have children, I'll be too old. Far too old to be a good father. Or be a good partner. Be a good anything.”

He let a few moments of silence drag by as he collected his thoughts to pull together another jumbled sentence.

“I want to be able to give my children everything,” he murmured, now talking more to himself than you, just to get the feelings out of his system. “The love, stability, the… time. But I don't think it's going to happen. I'm running out of time.”

You heard him sniffle before he added with a fragile voice, “I don't think I'll be able to have it.”

You didn't respond, you didn't think that was what he wanted. He wanted to be vulnerable, to just spew his feelings and thoughts with no consequences, no repercussions.

He exhaled slowly but shakily, like a heavy weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, but now he was just left with the persistent ache it left behind.

His body tensed, his muscles locking up as he fought to keep the weight of everything that had been building up inside him, all the unresolved emotions, the fears and regrets he'd tried to suppress, starting to slip through the cracks he had tried and failed so hard to keep sealed.

The first few tears that he'd accidentally let spill were subtle, just a faint tremor in his jaw, the briefest rivulets dripping down his cheeks that he quickly wiped away, embarrassed by simply letting go. He took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself, his emotions, but it wasn't enough.

The dam inside him that he'd so carefully built and fortified, began to crumble and break under the weight of everything he thought he could handle.

The tears came slowly, one after the other, and his breath hitched in his chest, the act of crying catching him off guard. His shoulders trembled as he made one last feeble attempt at trying to stop the tears, but it was futile.

He turned his head into your shoulder, hiding his face as much as he could in the crook of your neck, but his sobs were soft and muffled against your skin. Each deep breath in and shaky exhale out was laboured, the overwhelming grief forcing its way through him.

He didn't speak; there were no words left that could explain the turmoil inside of him. The suffocating guilt, the fear of his future, the loss of something he didn't know he had.

His tears dampened your skin that he'd only just dried, endless at first, each sob carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten promises and unspoken regrets.

You felt the warmth of his tears against your shoulder and you flickered your eyes open again, placing one of your hands over his. You didn't have answers for him, maybe fabricated ones that he wanted, but not the ones he needed.

For a while, he just let himself cry, the sounds soft but heavy, like releasing a pressure that had been building for years.

The tears didn't come all at once, but rather in waves. He'd be quiet for a moment, breathing deeply and shakily as if trying to compose himself, to stop being weak, but he didn't get far before another sob would escape him, wracking through his chest, raw and unrefined.

Even as he unraveled, as his petals wilted and fluttered off, he held you close and tight, and you let him.

Eventually, his sobs began to slow, the shaking of his body gradually becoming less forceful, less pronounced. The tears continued to flow, but the intensity had dimmed, though his breath remained shaky and brittle.

He pulled his face away from your shoulder, your skin damp from where he'd cried, and you turned over yourself, now lay on your back with his arm underneath you while he lies on his side beside you. He looked down at you, his eyes red, wet and swollen, his cheeks streaked and his lips slightly parted. His eyes were clouded with a mix of vulnerability and exhaustion, and he whispered, “I'm sorry.”

His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognisable. “I didn't mean to cry. I didn't mean for any of… anything to happen.”

He pulled one arm from under you to wipe his eyes and nose with before rolling over, lying flat on his back. Maybe an attempt to stop more tears flowing.

He stared up at the blank ceiling, his deep breaths quiet, barely breaking the silence as he tried to control himself, before he closed his eyes.

His fingers traced gentle patterns and lines across your skin, a small, unconscious motion you'd noticed him doing. Usually when he's talked a bit too much, or he’s just feeling the weight of his life pressing down on him. It seemed to calm him down, bring him some comfort.

“I don't want to keep hurting people,” he said with a small voice. “Especially if they don't know they're being hurt. Or don't know the extent.”

He swallowed and opened his mouth before promptly closing it, then quietly adding, “I don't want to hurt you.”

His fingers gentle patterns continued as they drifted across your skin, and he turned his head towards you, opening his eyes once more, meeting your gaze.

He gave you a small, sad smile, or at least what he could muster up of one, and he sighed softly, a breath of relief almost too deep for someone so burdened, before he whispered, “Thank you.”

You nodded once, just a small movement to show your acknowledgement, and you gave him a slight smile back. The moment faded into the stillness of the room, letting the quiet envelop you both.

｡･:*:･ﾟ༓･*˚⁺‧͙ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚₊✩｡˚☽

am i overdoing it with the mentions of the wedding ring..? probably. i don't know what id put in any subsequent parts nor do i know how id end it as a whole so 💔 idk what to do with him

[elliescove]

Have you ever tried this one?

Summary: Garrett has liked Steve for a long time (Ever since he met him a day ago) and Steve claims he isn’t gay until they are alone together <3 A/N: I wrote this like right after seeing the movie lmaoo this is a joke fic!!

Warnings: love confession, smut, mlm, 69, kissing, oral, p in a, Steve is the dom!!

Word count: 1,428

Steve had always been an adventurer at heart. After years of exploring the vast worlds of Minecraft, surviving the treacherous Nether, and building monumental structures, he was used to facing danger and overcoming challenges. However, there was one challenge he had never encountered: emotions. Especially the kind that made his heart race, his palms sweat, and his thoughts swirl in confusion.

Garrett, the strong and cocky miner who had joined Steve on many of his adventures, had always been a mystery. With his dark, unruly hair and an egotistical demeanor, he seemed to exist in the shadows of Steve's life. Garrett wasn’t like the others in the blocky world they called home. While Steve spent his time building, fighting, and crafting, Garrett had a tendency to disappear into caves, searching for the precious ores that lay deep beneath the surface.

It was on one such adventure that Steve began to notice things about Garrett that he had never seen before. The way Garrett’s smile lit up the night sky when they finally found a rare gem or the soft look in his eyes when he handed Steve a piece of diamond armor. For a long time, Steve brushed it off, assuming that the feelings stirring within him were just admiration for his friend's skill and resilience.

But the way Garrett looked at him, especially when they were alone, started to make Steve question everything. His thoughts became tangled. Was it just the heat of their shared adventures? Or was it something deeper? Something more? Steve wasn’t sure, but the more time they spent together, the harder it became to ignore the feelings that seemed to be growing inside him.

One evening, as they sat around a fire near their base camp, Steve noticed Garrett’s gaze lingering on him longer than usual. The flickering flames cast shadows across his face, but Steve could still see the glint of something in Garrett's eyes. Something that made his heart beat a little faster.

“Garrett,” Steve started, his voice unsure, “is there something on your mind?”

Garrett hesitated, his fingers toying with a small stick he had picked up from the fire. He looked away for a moment, clearly lost in thought, before turning back to Steve with a look of quiet determination in his eyes. “Steve… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time,” he began, his voice lower than usual, as if the words weighed heavily on him.

Steve felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the way Garrett spoke made him nervous. “What is it?” Steve asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in his voice.

Garrett took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. “I… I love you, Steve.” The confession hung in the air like a cloud of tension, thick and charged with unspoken emotion. Steve’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts momentarily frozen as he processed the words.

“You… love me?” Steve repeated, almost as if he didn’t believe it at first. The idea of Garrett, the cocky gamer, feeling something so powerful for him was almost incomprehensible.

Garrett nodded, his expression serious yet vulnerable. “I’ve loved you for a long time now,” he continued. “I’ve been afraid to tell you, scared of what it might mean for our friendship. But I can’t hide it anymore. Every time I’m with you, I feel… complete. You make me feel like I’m more than just a star gamer. You make me feel like I can build something real…”

Steve’s mind was racing. He had always thought of Garrett as his closest friend, but now, hearing this confession, it was like a veil had been lifted. His feelings for Garrett, which he had been denying, suddenly became clear. He wasn’t just an ally or a teammate. Garrett was someone he cared about in a way that went beyond friendship.

“I never knew…” Steve said, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

Garrett’s face fell slightly, the weight of his confession seemingly too much for him to bear. He looked down, his fingers still playing with the stick in his hands. “I understand if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to say it, even if it means… losing everything.”

Steve quickly reached out and grabbed Garrett’s hand, stopping him. “No, Garrett. I didn’t say that.” He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I… I think I feel the same way.”

Garrett looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You do?”

Steve nodded, a shy smile forming on his lips. “Yeah. I’ve been too scared to admit it. But now that you’ve said it… I can’t deny it anymore.”

A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if the entire world had paused, allowing them to savor this moment. The crackling of the fire was the only sound, and in that quiet, Garrett leaned in slowly, his eyes searching Steve’s for any sign of hesitation.

Steve closed the distance between them, his heart pounding in his chest. When their lips met, it was soft and tentative at first, as if they were both afraid that this moment might shatter if they weren’t careful. But as the kiss deepened, all of Steve’s doubts and fears melted away. It was real. Garrett was real. And this moment was something neither of them would ever forget.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, Steve whispered, “I think we’re building something, Garrett. Something that’s even stronger than anything we’ve made in this world of blocks..”

Garrett smiled, his eyes shining with affection. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “This.. I need us.. Donde esta la biblioteca.. That means I need you in Spanish..” It definitely didn’t mean that, but the heat was too strong for Steve to even question his words. “Get your ass over here then..” Steves' voice was husky with need and desire, which made Garret's core knot up

Garrett slowly crawled over to his newfound lover, Steve grabbing him by his forearms and pulling him on top, groping at the curly haired mans thick ass causing a gasp to come from him

“Shh, you don’t want the villagers to hear us.. Do you?” Steve warned

“N-No.. ngh- I’ll be quiet..” Garrett promised, knowing damn well that would be a lie

“Good, good.. Now lose that damn jacket.” It wasn’t long before the two men were naked in the dark; the fire had died out ages ago but all that mattered to Garrett was Steves cock that was in his mouth, Steve groaning and bucking his hips into Garrett’s mouth while he was practically suffocating in his messy pubes drooling everywhere, it was definitely a sight to be seen

“Fuck.. that’s it..” The man in the blue shirt moaned as he neared his edge using Garrett like some cheap fleshlight

But right before he came down his throat, he pulled out, leaving Garrett a mess and highly confused. “W–wha-?” He stammered, still catching his breath.

“I wanna try something,” Steve said before laying down in the grassy field, tossing his shirt to who knows where,

There they were, on the ground in the moonlight, Garrett on top of Steve, sucking his cock while Steve was under him, flipped and sucking as well, Garrett’s head was needy, desperate, while Steve was nice and slow, savoring him with every slurp of his member, making sure to treat his tip well with his tongue as he swirled it around.

Garrett didn’t last very long before his white cream was going down Steve’s throat, he let out strangled moans, throwing his head back. Steve swallowed most of it but when Garrett got off there was sticky cum on his chin in his beard, Garrett blushed at the sight, “W-whoops..” He mumbled sheepishly before kissing him again, wiping the cum from Steve’s beard and licking it off his fingers.

Soon Steve had Garrett bent over on an oak plank that they had been using as a seat earlier that day. He was pounding his ass while covering his mouth so the mobs wouldn’t hear them, sliding in and out of him at a fast pace, chasing his high while Garrett held onto the plank with one hand and the other jerking himself off.

This went on until the sun started to rise, the two cleaning up and Steve helping him walk after it all because he couldn’t stand right.

[doodlenoodleboi]

News flash: Arataka Reigen is a Minecraft Mob!!!!

[nutellavvv]

Eyes That Wander (Humanoid! Enderman x F!Reader) 

Disclaimer: In this universe Endermen and other select monsters are humanoid compared their original Minecraft designs. The Endermen in this series look more human!!! 

WARNING: A tad bit of !freakiness! (NSFW) in this chapter.

Previous Chapter: Prologue: “Love at First Purple”

—————————— Find me on AO3 @/nutellav !

Chapter 1: “Instincts”

Y/N sat atop the hill, below was a valley, the sun setting upon the fields of flowers. It was quaint, beautiful.

“You’re on time,” The males warm and welcoming voice sent a sudden warmth through Y/N’s body.

Y/N turned around quickly, “Eros! Don’t go scaring me like that!” She smiled, her eyes meeting his.

His body towered over hers the same as it had always.

7 years had passed, and throughout those years Y/N and Eros had continued to meet up in secret. Although not as often as they liked—so in these moments, they savored them.

“You’re turning 18 today, right?” Y/N commented, as the male sat beside Y/N.

Even while sitting— his head hovered over hers.

He smirked, “Yeah, something like that… you already know Endermen don’t celebrate birthdays.” He responded.

“I know! I know… but its important to! I don’t think I would feel like a good friend if I didn’t celebrate your birthday,” Y/N replied.

Suddenly Y/N pulled out a cake, “I brought you a cake! We’ll blow it out when the sun set.”

Eros placed a heavy hand atop Y/N’s head, rubbing it playfully. “Always being so thoughtful of me, when you dont have to be,” He spoke, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips. 

Y/N protested, “Hey don’t say that—“

“There you go again,” Eros laughed, “always being so —considerate—, and befriending monsters for the heck of it.”

Y/N sighed, gazing up at the playful male.

“What’s with that look?” Eros asked, a subtly playful smile on his face.

Y/N kept steady eye contact, the golden rays of the sun shining on them.

Eros had changed, not only in height, but almost everything about him. His demeanor had become something so… charming? So… mature. Different from the curious little boy she had met so long ago. But it’s not like she didn’t like it.

He had become a man. And his eyes— they were still as beautiful as ever.

“Hey— you checking me out or something?” His deep voice interrupted her thoughts, snapping her out of it. 

Hues of purple swirled in his eyes like a beautiful galaxy. And it made her wonder… where did it all come from?

“Eros— were you… a baby at one point? What was it like growing up as an enderman?” Y/N asked abruptly.

Eros furrowed his brows, “So curious all of a sudden— well….” The male looked up at the sky, pondering. 

“One day, I was me. I don’t remember anything before it. Something about how the Enderdragon and her divine powers brings us into the world to be protectors of her kingdom. From the moment I was conscious I lived life aimlessly… until I found you.” Eros paused, “weird— isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not weird,” Y/N said, reassuringly.

“You’re right— because I’m a monster.” Eros said, leaning back on the soft grass, his gaze looking out toward the setting sun.

Y/N looked over at Eros, concern on her face— wondering why he suddenly emphasized that point.

“Why… are you saying that?” Y/N asked, placing her hand atop his.

The sun started to bury itself behind the mountains, its dying light shining dimly on their bodies.

“You might be an enderman… But it doesn’t change the fact you’re my best friend! What you are doesn’t matter to me… You mean so much to me, human or not! ” Y/N scolded, taking his hand into both of hers, holding his hand securely.

Eros looked over—sulking, then he suddenly burst out laughing, “—You’ve always been so sweet.” He smiles, holding a teasingly steady gaze with her.

He used his other hand to hold her hand with his, looking at her intently. “Thank you Y/N, your words are reassuring to me.”

Suddenly warmth crept up Y/N’s neck, feeling a little embarrassed. Had he baited her again?

She immediately let go of his hands, covering her cheeks. 

The sun disappeared from view, the stars beginning to light up the sky.

“L-Let’s just light the cake already…” She murmured awkwardly.

Y/N lit the cake, the candle illuminating their faces with a fiery passion.

“Well, make a wish.!” Y/N smiled.

Eros— on the other side of the cake, shut his eyes— taking a moment to think, “I wish…”

Eros opened his eyes, blowing the candles light away. His purple eyes shone in the dim setting, focused on Y/N once again.

But this time, they lingered on her for much longer than usual.

“Eros?” She whispered.

“You’ve grown so beautiful,” He uttered, “You’ve always been so beautiful— but look at you now. Right beside me.”

“E-Eros… Why are you saying all of this…? Stop playing around…” Y/N stammered, a flush returning to her cheeks.

Eros placed his forehead against hers. “I had to tell you— because you mean everything to me. You’ve given me purpose.” He whispered. Though his explanation unclear— his intentions were clear.

Romantic, serious, straightforward, it was odd.

“Eros… You mean everything to me too.” Y/N whispered, her eyes shut nervously. 

THUMP.

Y/N felt the back of her head land on the soft ground. Her eyes shot open, Eros hovering over her body— her wrists held down by his large toned and tanned arms.

His large body weighed her down, his gaze glossed over— fixed on her, his chest heaving.

“E-Eros!?” She yelped with growing confusion and concern.

“Eros! Answer me…! Eros?” Y/N asked frantically, her body cemented to the ground, searching his eyes for answers. 

Then she felt a *large* long lump of warmth against her leg. She gasped, her eyes widening with realization and growing anxiety.

But suddenly Eros’s eyes darted to something she couldn’t see, his eyes widening.

His expression had changed, his eyes back to it’s lively and “awake” self. But he was alert.

“Fuck! I-I’m sorry Y/N, I-I don’t know… what… I...” Eros mumbled incoherently.

“S-Shut your eyes there’s another Enderman here,”Without room to argue— the male shoved his hands over Y/N’s eyes.

There was silence, then an unfamiliar voice interrupted it.

“How much longer will you be able to fight your instincts?” It asked.

“Who the hell are you?!” Eros asked aggressively.

“Nobody. But, I’m hungry— and it looks like you have my dinner.” It hissed, its distorted voice sending shivers down Y/N’s spine.

Eros shuttered, leaning down beside Y/N’s ear. “Run. Run as fast as you can, I’ll hold him off.” He whispered. 

“B-But… Eros…” Y/N hesitantly spoke.

“Y/N… —Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me today,“ He whispered, “It’s time to go home now.”

With a swift motion, Eros pushed Y/N towards the direction of the village.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins she bolted down the trail. The sounds of the tussling endermen echoed through the forest. Aggressive distorted roars and wails faded as Y/N ran further.

Y/N was overwhelmed with emotion. Confusion, fear, longing, love, anxiety.

The lights from the village graced her skin, entering into the safety of civilization. As she entered the village she felt a crunch under her foot, making her slip.

As she stumbled over, the bold words “MISSING PERSON” caught her eyes.

She picked up the weathered, and old looking piece of paper.

A picture of a young boy caught her attention. It appeared to be a missing poster from 8 years ago.

It was unsettling— adding onto the anxiety and confusion the night had given her. 

The night ended— Y/N’s mind raced with questions as she buried herself under blankets.

But the most important one she pondered was when she was going to see Eros again.

—————————— End

Up Next: Chapter 2: When Eros starts to avoid you, you begin to appeal to his newfound instincts.

A/N: Sorry y’all! Slow upload schedule since I’m in school right now. Thank you for you patience :) I hope y’all can find this to be a series you enjoy alongside your other fics despite my slow upload schedule 😅

taglist: @yourmumshouse09

[eternalbright-star]

Herobrine x F!reader

🌷A/n: Am I really doing this? Of course I am, I want that Herobrine smut but can't find it on here. (First official post on here and it's smut-)

🌷warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon(?), hair pulling, marking, tentacles(just a bit), creampie, aphrodisiac, mentions of stalking, fingering. (let me know if I missed anything)

You honestly could find it within you to question how you got into this predicament, you just needed to find sugarcane for your farm so you could harvest them and make paper for books in your enchantment table.

But because they were so hard to find near where you had set up base, you needed to travel a bit far across the land, which caused you to be out after sun down, so now you were trying to avoid monsters that come bumping at night.

So with sword and shield equipped, you carefully trudged through the forest, not being able to throw away the feeling that someone must be watching you.

You chalked it up to a wandering trader who managed to drink an invisibility potion to avoid being attacked by zombies, but what didn't come across your mind was you didn't see his usual llama companions around.

You dodged branches and arrows, eyes focused at the path up ahead of you, despite being far from home, you still wanted to get out of the forest, something about it seemed to make you so unnerved and you just wanted to be away where you could have so many vulnerabilities.

Not really noticing the glowing white eyes that stared at you in the dark, nor did you notice tentacles that stalked you in the dark and approached you like a predator would with its prey.

But you did however feel the appendages wrap around your ankle, pulling you down to the forest ground with a shout of surprise as your body collided with the grassy ground.

You twisted your body to look at what had grabbed at your ankle and gasped in horror at the dark tentacle that wrapped itself at your ankle, brain trying to figure out what the source of the tentacle could've come from.

With footsteps being heard, your eyes glance up, causing you to shriek and crawl away as you looked at the being that approached you, with such predatory intent at that.

"Let me go!" You shouted, gripping the handle of your sword tightly and swinging at it, hitting the side of the tentacle. When you did so, a loud shriek was heard as he withdrew his tentacles and took a step back, cradling the injured appendage.

You twisted your body and stood up, nearly tripping and falling on your face as you ran away, lungs burning as you selfishly inhaled oxygen, as you looked back, watching as his silhouette became smaller.

But it didn't seize your running, but you couldn't get far when you were pushed to the ground, you were being pushed from your upper back onto the ground, your cheek making contact with the grass blades below you, “Let me go-” you were interrupted when a tentacle was shoved into your mouth.

Something sweet had ran down your tongue and down your throat, causing you to swallow the sweet substance, the tentacle had slowly retracted, and you tried to get up, but the burning feeling in your body stopped you from doing so.

“Ah…” you breathed heavily as you began to sweat, you tried lifting yourself up using your arms but you couldn't, so you laid there with your head buried in your arms with your ass sticking up in the air.

You quickly flinched as you felt a hand rub your crotch, causing you to make a muffled sound, you turned your head and weakly stared behind you as Herobrine knelt behind you, rubbing you through your pants.

You couldn't help but grind against his hand, trying to seek friction and satiate the pain growing in your lower stomach, so it didn't bother as much as you thought it would when you felt his hand go underneath your clothing, his hand toying with you nipples and how his fingers seemed to rub your folds, gathering up your slick.

Your body jerked when he rubbed your clit particularly hard, eliciting a shrill moan from you, every touch, every caress seemed to make your pussy so wet.

He flipped you onto your back, your eyes making in contact with his white eyes that seemed to glow brightly in the dark, he ran a hand down your thigh and squeezed your ass, while his other gripped your hair to pull your head back to bite you on the neck, eliciting a groan to come out of your mouth.

Your body felt so heavy and hot, and your clothes were not helping at all because of how constricting it was, so you tried to pull your clothes off of you, but was too weak from whatever substance he had made you swallow.

His stare bore into you, but he helped you take your clothes off nonetheless, leaving you in your underwear beneath him, he pushed his hips against your crotch, making you feel the hard on he had as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, he lifted up your bra to let your boobs spill out of the garment, grasping the soft mound and giving it a little squeeze before he took it into his mouth.

Sucking and licking your nipple as he pinched and pulled the other, grinding his cock against your clothed pussy, eliciting a moan out of you, your hand grasping his brown locks as you arched your back .

He let go of your nipple with a 'pop', his thumb hooking onto your panties to pull them off, leaving you bare under him on the grass, the moons light reflecting onto your wet pussy as you laid there all pliant for him to use as he pleases.

He ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers before he sensually rubbed your hole, occasionally giving attention to your throbbing clit.

You were so...

So sensitive.

You couldn't help but feel so lost in the pleasure, you couldn't help but cry out when two fingers had entered you, his fingers much thicker than yours were, giving you this feeling of a burning stretch as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside your warm walls.

Being able to hit the spot that even your fingers couldn't during those lonely nights, all while you crumble completely just from his fingers, Herobrine watches you with a careful eye, watching your reactions and changing his pace and direction based on how you reacted and cried out.

His hard-on pressing against your inner thigh as he continued to watch you come undone, even after your first orgasm, he didn't stop, his pace remained the same way, but his thrusts were so hard and precise it had you shaking, that he needed to put a hand on your thigh to stop you from closing your legs.

Once you came a second time, that was when he found you fit to be able to take his cock, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, his fingers and palm was coated with your juices, he stared at his hand before popping his fingers into his mouth, curious as to what you tasted like.

You watched with lidded eyes as he sensually licked and sucked his fingers of your essence, once he finished licking his finger clean, he leaned forward and buried his face against your neck while he unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hard cock out that leaked precum.

You shivered when you felt the head of his cock was being rubbed against your folds, coating his cock with your slick to lube him up. He licked and sucked at different places on your skin while he teased your hole with his cock.

Whatever skin he could bite and suck on was marked by him, like a show for territorial matter, like he's marking you as his.

When the tip of his cock is pressed against your hole, he could feel your pussy try to already greedily suck him in, pushing inside of you slowly as he leaned against his forearm that was next to your head, his free hand on your hip so he could properly insert himself inside of you without having to squirm so much.

Once he fully bottomed out, your mouth hung open while your eyes seemed to be on the verge of rolling to the back of your head as your sensitive body accepted his full size, his cock was like no other, he seemed to fit so snuggly inside you.

After what felt like minutes, he gave off a few experimental thrusts before fully on thrusting hard into you, changing into a more comfortable position so he could hold your hips with both his hands, to properly grind your hips against his.

As he thrusted inside of you brutally, the sounds of skin on skin contact and your loud moans echoed around the forest, his presence having made any nearby monster avoid the area around the two of you, giving you two the privacy that you needed.

Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders to keep you grounded, but all it did was have his pelvis grind against your clit, adding to the stimulation that had your eyes forming tears in the corner of your eyes from the severe pleasure, feeling so lost in his touch.

You were so perfect.

Herobrine could help but bite your bottom lip, wanting to tease and pleasure you at the same time, but that could be for another time, he could finally be able to get the taste of this pussy of yours.

You'd always felt that you were being stared at, but what you didn't know was who was doing it, he hung around your area ever so often, watching you from your window as you tried to pleasure yourself during those lonely nights.

Now he can be able to pleasure you over and over so many times, as he pleases.

He could feel that you're close, with the way your pussy was clenching his cock tightly, as if it greedily begs for his cum to fill you up.

With a bite of his lip and furrowed eyebrows, he lifted your hips, the new angle had you seeing stars as he hit the right spot over and over, a pornographic moan didn't hesitate to escape your lips as you desperately clung to him, your nails having been clawing at his skin through his shirt.

With a final thrust, the two of you came together, the thread in your belly having been snapped as you shivered, feeling ropes of his hut cum being shoot into you, your body flinching at the feeling of being full.

When you thought it was finally over, he had you flipped onto your stomach and he was thrusting into you over again, pulling in your hair to pull you against him, your back making in contact with his chest as he pounded into you.

The two of you going at it the entire night as he fucked loads and loads of his cum into you, by the end of it, you were spent and the effects of the aphrodisiac had already worn off, and yet you were still begging for his cock.

🌷End note: That's all for today! Hope you guys like this one, I spent too much time writing a full on smut , but here it his, hope you're proud of me!