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venmondiese · 6 months ago

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LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye.

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods.

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support.

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

“My lady” Aemond says softly.

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks.

“My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.”

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted. But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?”

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery.

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises”

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband.

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’.

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments.

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his.

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black”

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby.

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about.

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him.

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them.

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much.

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact.

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea.

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his.

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men.

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage.

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you”

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking.

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know”

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife.

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative.

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone.

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours.

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again”

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied.

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation.

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches.

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.” His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face.

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her.

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured.

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit.

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson”

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

“Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion.

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock.

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever.

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight.

“Please, Aemond…”

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully.

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom.

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you”

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt.

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust.

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore”

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.”

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored.

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed.

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly.

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?”

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair.

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iniquitousyearning · 1 year ago

Text

teasing. | syltherin boy headcanons

author’s note: based on a request i received. i am feral.

- your boyfriends reaction to you teasing him under the table at dinner.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been in a proper fowl mood all day, and you could tell he was stressed, a clear mixture of a million different things floating through his mind.

You were literally counting down the seconds until you could finally be alone with him, but dinner was fucking dragging.

Sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but to sneak continual glances at him, noting his silver eyes darkened to a deep shade of grey, the tension in his jaw practically palpable as he stared at his plate like he could hex it into another dimension.

Just looking at him made your breath quicken, made your pulse soar.

Of course, part of you empathized with his shitty day, but the other part of you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there--

because, undeniably so, he’s at his fucking sexiest when he’s pissed.

As Pansy’s chipper voice filled the air, yammering away to a blissfully blazed Zabini, both of them seated across from you and your boyfriend, an idea sparked in your mind.

Without hesitation, you scooted closer to him, subtly enough to not draw any attention to yourself, but enough for Draco to shoot you a side-eyed glance, eyebrow raised.

Feeling his eyes on you, you kept your gaze on your plate as you brushed your hand against his thigh, testing his reaction.

You could practically hear him swallow, could practically feel his body tense, and you’d try not to smirk.

Thrilled, you’d inch your fingers further, tracing small patterns along the middle of his thigh before trailing upwards.

He’d shift on the bench, the veins in his hands tensing as he tightened his grip on his fork.

His reactions would fuel your fire, and you’d keep going, grazing over his crotch, and he’d groan, stifling it with a cough instantly, and that’s when he’d had enough.

Shifting his hand, he’d grasp your thigh, now--with an intensity in his grip so strong you’d almost squeal. A silent warning.

He’d lean in, his voice darker than the midnight sky as he’d whisper, “you’re lucky I have some dignity…but keep it up and I’ll bend you over this fucking table right now, in front of everyone.”

your grin would be unmissable, and you’d only make it another few minutes before he dragged you away from the table and back to his dorm.

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was literally just eating. And that’s all it took.

That’s all it took for you to want him, to damn-near need him, right then and there.

He’d been flirty with you all morning, making you swoon over his every word with his typical Zabini charm, as though he was still trying to win you over.

You found yourself giggling like a goddamn first year more times than you could even begin to count while he was around, and it drove you crazy, in the best way.

You couldn’t help it, you just always wanted to be near him, kissing him, touching him. He just made you feel that needy. Effortlessly.

And that feeling carried over throughout the entirety of your day, and didn’t falter at dinner. Oh, not even in the slightest.

If anything, it intensified.

Just watching him, in his own little world, focused on his food, casually chiming into the conversation every now and then between bites--it just did something to you. Something you couldn’t explain.

The way the veins in his hands tensed with each movement, the confident aura that surrounded him, regardless of what he was doing, was just fucking intoxicating.

And so, while caught in a moment of both mental and sexual tension, you discreetly placed your hand on his thigh while continuing to eat, feigning innocence as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Blaise looked over, immediately, and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

But then, with his typical Zabini composure, he’d go back to eating, letting you keep your hand there.

As you dared to inch higher, he’d seamlessly continue conversing with his friends, as if entirely unaffected by your advances.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and to anyone else, it’d seem as though nothing out of the ordinary was transpiring.

At this point, you’d be completely convinced that you were enjoying this more than he was.

But then, as you’d get close to his crotch, dangerously close, he’d lean in, his voice so deep it’d send chills down your spine.

“You better stop.”

You’d grin, slowly moving higher, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Or what?”

“You just wait until I get you alone, babygirl…” he’d smirk, wetting his lips. “I’ll get you back real fucking good.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Lorenzo bloody Berkshire; your absolutely sexy, tease of a boyfriend.

Earlier, you had been paired together for an assignment in class, which had turned out to be the most infuriating part of your day.

Enzo was relentless in his teasing; partially because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of you, but also because he just loved getting a rise out of you.

All class he’d stared at you with those big brown eyes, biting on his fucking lip as he smirked at you, pressing his crotch against your ass as the two of you gathered supplies for the assignment, acting like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

By dinner, your head was spinning, your nerves were shot, and you were more than determined to get him back.

And you’d do just that; finding your perfect opportunity while he was casually eating, not really paying you much attention.

You’d shift closer to him, resting your chin on your palm as you fixed your gaze on him, smirking a devilish smirk.

“So, Enz, what do you think of the new charms professor?”

You’d inquire, your voice like honey as it slipped past your lips, your fingers brushing against his leg in unison.

As soon as your hand connected with his thigh, he’d freeze, not daring to look at you, but stalling his movements completely, staring down at his plate as though it’d just grown two legs and spoke to him.

You’d grin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide it, watching him as he’d slowly resume his chewing, his breath coming in shallower bursts as you inched higher, excruciatingly slow.

“I-uh…he’s, he’s good-“ he’d stammer, his voice cracking, clearing his throat to mask it. “Thorough.”

“Oh, thorough, huh?” You’d tease, grin widening. “Why don’t you elaborate on that?”

His jaw would tense, his lids fluttering shut for the briefest moment as you grazed his crotch, adding pressure as to really get back at him, to really give him a taste of his own damn medicine.

He’d be flustered, undoubtedly, but he wouldn’t dare stop you, playing it off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then he’d lean in, softly setting his fork down as to not arouse any suspicion.

“My dorm, right now.” He’d practically beg. “I fucking need you.”

Mattheo Riddle.

Teasing Mattheo was not something you did, ever.

Because ‘teasing’, with Mattheo Riddle, was not a concept. It simply did not fucking exist.

You’d attempted it a few times, over your months of dating, and each time you’d found yourself either bent over a table, on your knees for him in a way-too-public location, or edged until you fucking cried/begged for release.

Mattheo never failed to let you know that he’d take you whenever and wherever the fuck he pleased.

‘Don’t poke the dragon’ or ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ ; were very much literal phrases when it came to your boyfriend.

and so you made sure not to tempt him, unless absolutely fucking necessary--However, today, it was more than absolutely fucking necessary.

And why was that, you might ask? Two reasons.

First one being that you’d slept in his dorm last night and woke up late late for class; all thanks to him.

Even though you’d made sure to remind him ten bloody times to set the alarm, he’d somehow still managed to ‘forget’.

And the second one was because he just looked so goddamn fucking sexy, and you were displeased with the fact that you didn’t have time for morning sex.

Regardless, as he was picking at his dinner, looking unbelievably exhausted, you took your chances.

You leaned closer to him discreetly, casually placing your hand on his thigh. He’d instantly tense, legs spreading wider almost involuntarily, grip tightening on his fork.

You’d inch higher, excruciatingly slow, nodding to Blaise as he said something to you, causally entertaining the conversation.

Mattheo’s jaw would tighten, so much it’d genuinely look painful, his head bowing toward the table as you slowly moved upwards.

But then, he’d grow tired of your teasing and grab your wrist, hastily moving it to his dick as he huffed, dropping his fork and running his now-free hand through his hair.

You’d be fuelled on, leaning toward his ear to whisper; “I need you so fucking bad, Matty…”

He’d snuff a groan, his nails digging into your wrist as he continued guiding your hand, guiding you in palming him through his trousers.

“You’re going to regret this, princess…” he’d mutter, his voice torn and laced with promise. “Can’t keep your fucking hands off of me, can you?”

You’d increased your movements, feeling him grow unbelievably hard beneath your fingers, and you’d know he wasn’t bluffing.

“I should bend you over right here, show the boys just what a desperate little slut you are for me….”

You’d smirk, snuffing your giggling, and that would be the last straw. He’d drag you up from the table and fuck you in the nearest closet/empty classroom.

Theodore Nott.

You were fucking bored.

So unbelievably bored that you weren’t sure how much more of it you’d be able to take.

The conversations at the table were about nothing of particular significance, and if you had to endure another second of Enzo’s mindless babbling you were certainly going to be sick.

Theo was seated beside you, aimlessly picking at his food, also looking incredibly bored.

It was not unnoticeable that the two of you were about ready to fall asleep on the damn spot.

In a moment of desperation, you turned to your boyfriend, attempting to spark up a conversation.

“So, what are we planning on doing this weekend?”

As Theo looked up, you’d instantly grow warm, his stormy blue eyes swirling with admiration as he glimpsed your lips, his once flat features beginning to soften.

“Can’t speak for you Bella, but know what I have on the to-do list,” he’d murmur, leaning in for a kiss.

Theo was never one to shy away from PDA.

As your lips met in a quick, soft kiss, you’d smile as he slowly pulled back. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

That’s when you’d put your hand on his thigh, slowly trailing it upwards, instantly causing his eyes to darken, his jaw to tighten.

He’d spread his legs wider, inviting you to keep going, and you’d gladly oblige, palming him eagerly as the two of you held eye-contact intense enough to make you dizzy.

he’d smirk, sucking in shallow breaths as he leaned in for another kiss, muttering against your lips;

“You…you, and you again…”

Someone at the table would playfully groan in disgust and tell you two to get a room, and you’d just laugh before Theo agreed and dragged you back to his dorm.

Tom Riddle.

If you had to listen to one more second of Tom Riddle talking about school related topics, you were going to find the nearest bridge and jump. zero hesitation.

You absolutely loved your boyfriend, loved him to fucking death,

but after he’d spent all afternoon drilling transfiguration concepts into your brain, you honestly just wished he’d drill something else into you, instead.

And by the time dinner rolled around, your brain was mashed potatoes, yet Tom remained completely fucking relentless.

In between bites of food he’d ask you to recite the animagus transformation theory, and when you’d undoubtedly get it wrong, he’d sigh, grabbing the book and reading it back to you.

But no matter how many times he’d repeat it, it didn’t fucking matter, your mind was gone, completely elsewhere.

To be more specific, your mind was lost in a sea of your thoughts, thoughts about Tom’s big strong hands gripping your hips, his strong frame towering over you as he-

Gods, this was complete fucking torture, and you needed it to stop, right now.

Loosening your tie around your neck, you glimpsed him, watching his dark eyes scan the page, watching his long fingers as he pointed at what he was reading to you,

As you undid a few of the buttons on your blouse, your hand fell gracefully, landing on his thigh for support as you leaned over him, looking down at the book,

“Can you repeat that part for me again, Tom?…” you’d murmur, voice a slow drawl, failing to hide your smirk as your felt him tense. “Silly me…I don’t think I heard you correctly…”

Tom would know exactly what you were doing, and at first he’d try to play it off, clearing his throat as he tried to decipher where the fuck he’d left off.

But then, as you continued to inch higher, grazing his crotch, he’d groan, slamming the book shut.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He’d hiss, the annoyance in his tone mingling with amusement.

“Let’s go before I bend you over the fucking table.”

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entitled-fangirl · 4 months ago

Text

Too needy.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: the reader naturally has to be touching Cregan at all times. He doesn't mind, but her insecurity starts to get the better of her.

Warnings: insecurity, talks of sex

A/n: Based off an ask! I'll proofread later

Masterlist

.............................................................

He didn't react to her touches as much anymore, for they were constant.

Winterfell expanded far and wide, and as much as her mind had tried to remember every corridor, she couldn't.

So she always held on to him to keep from getting lost.

At least, that was the excuse at first. Now, it was a comfort.

She held his hand, his arm, his cloak, the handle of the sword in his belt, anything that she could when they walked together.

Even now in the courtyard, she held fast to his cloak as he spoke with the stable master on a matter of his horse.

She looked around, her head on a constant swivel but her hand never faltered.

But she began to notice something.

A few that passed by had looked down at the hand that was still at Cregan's cloak and an insecurity was being prodded at.

She had noticed it for weeks now.

Perhaps they believed her to be too needy.

Perhaps they were right.

The insecurity began to eat at her.

"Well, I thank you for your work regardless," Cregan continued to speak to the stable master, "My horse has never been more reliable. Do tell me what you believe abo-"

She zoned out from there. She was far too engrossed in noticing every little stare that came her way.

She dropped her hand from his cloak and let it fall to her side.

Cregan looked away from the man for only a moment to gaze at her. He looked down at her hand and immediately reached out and grabbed it. He then gave his attention back to the man as if nothing had happened. "Oh, I agree that when-"

She just stared down at their intertwined hands.

She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when he'd lightly squeeze her fingers with his own.

…

The next day, the insecurity came again when at the petitions.

Cregan never sat behind the table as the maester did. He was always in front of it, pacing back and forth or sitting on the wooden surface itself.

Whether it was to be more inviting or more intimidating, no one was sure.

So when she joined him occasionally, he'd set her onto the table. She always figured he did it to comfort her, knowing she hated to be more than two steps away from him.

And when she'd sit there with her feet dangling inches from the ground, Cregan would stay put, not letting himself pace. He'd lean against the hardy table with his big arms crossed and brow furrowed as he paid attention to whatever the next person said.

He cared greatly for his people, and he cared greatly for his wife.

So often during these times, her hand would be on his arm, or his hand on her leg. It was a pattern they had developed over their time together.

But today was different, for the insecurity was back.

His bicep brushed against her shoulder unconsciously as his body unknowingly inched closer to her by the minute.

"I've gotta herd to care fer," the man petitioned. "And these wolves keep takin' my flock. There's been at least six of em out there snapping at my shepherds."

Cregan hummed in consideration. "Aye, your flock helps to feed Winterfell through the winter often. Tell me what solution you've come here hoping for."

The man rubbed his beard, "Well, I was hoping fer some men to help me hunt the beasts down."

Cregan chewed the inside of his cheek in thought as his shoulder brushed against his wife again.

He turned his head to her, letting his eyes rake over her as they often did. An idea came into his head.

"Alright," he agreed as he looked to the man again. "You'll have 12 men for 9 nights to sort the matter over. I'll pay for their lodging and food."

The man's eyes widened, "Oh, thank you milord. Bless you!"

"But," Cregan quickly countered with a tilted head. "I receive the coat of every wolf dead in those 9 nights."

"Consider it done, milord! Oh, thank you!"

Cregan held a hand up, "'Tis my duties. They'll be yours by the morrow."

The man left with a continued string of thanks as he left.

"What need have we for more pelts?" She asked quietly.

Cregan's head turned to her and a small smirk pulled at his lips. "You've far too few proper cloaks."

She opened her mouth to make a small petition of her own, but the next person stepped up.

It was an older man with a permanent furrow to his brow.

She didn't miss the way his eyes wandered over to her, utterly disgusted by the informality of Cregan's petitions.

Cregan noticed it too, and he reached over and rested his hand on her knee. He touch was light. Just a reminder that he stood next to her.

"What might the Starks do for you?" Cregan's voice echoed as he studied him.

The man's request was lost. All she could think about was Cregan's hand on her knee.

In all truth, she had missed his touch more than she believed she should have. After all, she got it constantly. But as of the last 24 hours, she had tried to draw back from his contact.

So when his thumb brushed softly over the side of her knee, she felt a shiver run down her spine.

She held her hands back by picking at the skin around her nails. It was a nasty habit she had picked up when she was younger. It often made comebacks when she was nervous or stressed.

Without even looking, Cregan's hand moved from her knee to grab at her hands, breaking them up to keep her from further hurting herself. How he knew without looking, she was unsure.

But he took one of her hands and pulled it to her knee, placing it down and keeping it there with his much larger palm over the top of it. His fingers played with hers absentmindedly as he negotiated with the man about gods know what.

That nagging feeling returned in her gut as she watched his fingers brush over hers.

She was so needy that he felt forced to comfort her in the midst of his duties.

How pathetic.

She managed to pull her hand out from under his despite his quick reaction to try to stop her. However, he didn't grab her hand in time and he knew better than to cause a scene over it. So he pretended not to notice.

When the man was satisfied and left, she began to push herself to the edge of the table to get up.

Cregan stood in front of her with a hand up, "Where are you going?"

"Just… to sit."

His head tilted down to catch her gaze. "To sit…? Where?"

"The…" she turned to look over her shoulder to the other side of the table. "The chairs."

His eyes squinted at her as he tried to comprehend what she had just told him, as if it was some unthinkable idea that had just been uttered. "Why would you do that?" He finally voiced. His eyes softened, "Do you need a break? We can pause for a while-"

"-No," she quickly interrupted. Her hands reached up to move to his chest as they usually did, but she stopped halfway and let them drop back down to her lap.

It was beginning to frustrate Cregan. He was no dull man by any means. He had noticed her touches lessening, but he didn't question it at first until she began to retract from him.

"If you need no break then you'll stay here until we are finished," he softly commanded.

She gave in almost immediately with the nod of her head.

He nodded as well, wishing to seem pleased, but further down he was trying to figure out what had caused her to be so odd as of late. He sighed and gripped her waist, pushing her back up to the table as before. He then turned and motioned for the next person to approach.

Cregan tried to pay attention this time, he really did, but it was harder to now that he had two problems to try to fix at once. And one them was far more important to him.

He nodded along with the man for a while then tried to test his luck again, reaching over to place his hand on her knee again. But this time, his hand fell to the wood.

He looked over when he felt the coarse wood as began to stare dumbfounded at his hand.

His wife had slowly moved herself from him by about 10 centimeters.

His hand balled up into a fist for a moment before he forced to it relax. He held his other hand up and completely cut off the man speaking. "Forgive me. We're done for a moment. I require some time to collect my thoughts here."

The man jaw went slack for a moment and the maester spoke up. "Lord Stark, it's unwise to pause in the middle of-"

Cregan's glare shut him up.

"Now," Cregan said as he stood to full height. "I shall return momentarily." He stepped over to his wife, "Get up."

His voice held unresolved tension to it and it made her panic. Her shaky hands pushed her to the end of the table and onto her feet.

Cregan's hand reached out to grab hers then paused, remembering why they were having this miscommunication in the first place and it only frustrated him more when he pulled his hand back. "Go on," he motioned to the door and quickly followed behind her.

Just hearing the northern man's heavy footsteps close behind them would make even the bravest man falter.

The moment the side door closed behind them, he grabbed her bicep and spun her around to him. "What are you doing?" He growled.

She couldn't make words come from her mouth, so she only shrugged a bit and gave a pitiful expression.

"Don't. You will speak to me and tell me what has caused all of this. Whatever this is," he huffed. "I don't know what it is, but I know that I hate it."

Her voice came out more broken than she intended, "I didn't mean to anger you."

Her words cause Cregan to release her bicep and take a step back from her. He runs a hand over his goatee. He tried to hide the anger from his voice this time, "I imagine you didn't. However, in no instance should you believe that pulling away from me wouldn't make me frustrated. I like having you near me. Have I not said that enough?"

"You have-"

"-You don't want my hands on you," he finished with a horrified look brewing in his eyes. "That is… fair. That is all we must say then."

"No, no, please don't!" She pleased.

He threw his hands up and let his emotions run free again, "Then what would you have me do? You want my touch but the second I give it to you, you shy away from me. I attempt to comfort your worries and you push my hand away." With each sentence, he gets closer. "Do you truly believe me so incompetent as your husband that I have not noticed your touches have become less and less on my skin? Did you think I would not notice the thing I look forward to the most suddenly disappear?"

He stops and the two just stare at one another.

"I crave it," he whispered.

Hot tears pricked up against her eyes, threatening to fall. She sniffled in an attempt to hold everything in.

Cregan wills his hand out to brush against her cheek. "Why have you stopped?"

She finds herself leaning into his hand, and there’s no denying that she didn't yearn for his touch as well. "…the people…"

He tries to follow along, but a frown tugs at his lips. "I still don't understand."

She opened her mouth the speak, but a soft sob breaks through and she steps back from him.

He closed the gap once again, this time grabbing her face with both hands in an attempt to calm her. "Shh, stop that. My anger is through. I just wish to help you.:

She held back the rising sobs to speak with a shaky voice, "I'm far too… needy… to be your Lady."

HIs jaw goes slack as pure confusion washes over him. He took a moment to regain himself before speaking. "I swear to you that you are not." He forces her head up to catch his eye. "Do you hear me?" She nodded, but he tilted his head, "I need to hear you say it."

That forced a few more tears down her cheek.

"I have to hear you say it," he almost pleaded. "Tell me that you're perfect for me."

A hesitation came over her, but she pushed through at the sight of his gaze. "I…. "

He waited with bated breath. "You're what? Say it."

"I'm perfect for you."

A broad smile came over him. "Now I want you to believe that, yeah?" He pulled her in and gave her a searing kiss that made her lose her train of thought. "We are returning, and you will do anything that makes you better."

"Is that not improper?"

He scoffed, "I do not care if you were straddling me as you've done in our bed. If you're comfortable, then I am doing my duty to you."

She blushed deeply and playfully hit his arm. "I would not do that."

"I know that." He kissed her forehead and moved from her. "Shall we?" He asked with an extended arm.

She took it happily.

He leaned down as the door opened, "If that hadn't worked, I'd have hoped you would cave tonight when you truly crave my touch."

She entered the hall with a face darker than Lannister red.

......................................................................

A/n 2: I'm updating my taglist, so if I somehow missed anyone that wants on it, lmk!

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123

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vrystalius · 10 days ago

Note

hiii there, i was wondering if we please get some more recruiter/salesman cutesy stuff?? you’re such a good writer (love your work) and we do NOT have enough fics of him being an enamoured wife guy on this app. thank you <3 😔

Secret Love Notes.

You keep slipping small love notes into all his pockets and suitcases to remind him that his wife loves him no matter what.

Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x wife!reader

Summary: You leave small love notes all over for him to find and he cherishes every single one of them.

Words: 0.7k, short and sweet!

Genre: fluff <33

Your husband never admits it out loud to you, but he notices how you slip little love notes into his pocket when folding up the laundry or when packing him a bento box. They have cute little encouragements and affirmations written on them along with some doodles of you two together, holding hands, kissing and whatnot.

You think you’re being sneaky by crouching a little when approaching his coat hung up by the entrance, stuffing a small folded note into his chest pocket.

Whenever he is about to go out the door, you hand him his leather suitcase and a colourful bento box you packed for him. Once you found out Gong Yo only plain loaves of bread or sometimes even nothing at all, you always insisted on packing some food for him so your poor husband can eat something home cooked every day.

Even if the box doesn’t match his aesthetics, he savours every bite and would never shy away from letting out a loud hum of content.

Gong Yoo sat comfortably on a wooden bench by the metro station, well aware of the two mobsters following him the whole day, but who cares?

He leisurely opened up the bento box. His face brightened up at the sight of another small love letter presented to him.

“Keep it up! You’re going great ♡ Your wife loves you ~ ☆ “

Accompanied by your sweet words was a chibi doodle of you doing a heart with your index finger and thumb and him as a chibi too, holding a pair of chopsticks and giving you a wink. He chuckled quietly to himself and folded the note to keep it in his pocket by his heart.

Once, after successfully recruiting a new player, Gong Yoo handed the confused and wounded man your love note with a confident smirk. That man was lucky to have escaped the games but was kind of confused on why a handsome looking salesman gave him a love letter that reminded him to “stay hydrated!! ☆ (drinking coffee doesn’t count >:( )”

He tries to leave behind as many love notes as you lovingly prepare for him, but his doodles were kind of wonky and presented you in a rather disturbing light.

Sticking to his trusty craft of origami your husband instead began leaving small paper roses for you to find as a way to leave his own love messages.

A paper rose in the fridge, in the pocket of your jacket, in your bag and on your pillow; they change colours based on the day too. Blue and red are the most frequent and popular ones though for some reason. Probably because those are the only kinds of coloured paper he owns.

After every day you leave letters behind for him, Gong Yoo always tries to come home on time to properly thank you for them. Pampering you is his favourite activity, meaning you get banned from the kitchen and forcibly made comfortable on your bed or couch with cushions and blankets to keep you warm and cozy.

To return the favour of you preparing bento for him, he’ll cook you a fine dinner that could rival that of high-end restaurants. Afterwards, he’ll make himself comfortable right next to you to plant well deserved kisses all over your face and body and let his hand travel over your body freely, tracing invisible patterns.

A man like him should not be holding a woman like you, that’s what he’s always thinking. You are way too good for him, too gentle, kind, loving, too much of everything good.

“I love you. More than letters or silly paper roses can convey. Allow me to demonstrate just how much I love my wife, hmm?”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

The amount of smut and non-con about this man is INSANE, I just need to live my silly life as a wife with him where we snuggle on the couch like a boring cuddle every night and then go to sleep while he read a book and I knit like grandparents 🫶😭 Anyways, hope you enjoyed it anon!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

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beloveds-embrace · 13 days ago

Note

same anon btw

i can just imagine the guys taking turns feeding wet-cat!reader during mealtimes to make sure they don’t starve themselves, subtly snacking around them and offering them some, pretty much anything to make sure they get some sustenance

and it becomes a bit of a routine, something they don’t even think about until johnny makes a joke about it in passing and they’re suddenly reevaluating every little word, every little action from the 141

Original Post

Ghost doesn’t think much of it at first. Some soldiers have weird eating habits- superstitions, routines, whatever keeps them going. But with you, it’s different.

You always take your standard-issue MRE like everyone else. Always accept whatever rations are handed out, no complaints about how they taste or what flavors they are. But Ghost rarely sees you actually eat them. Instead, they disappear into your pack, tucked away like something to be saved for later.

He starts noticing the patterns, then.

You always have something on you- an extra protein bar, a spare pack of nuts, an untouched meal shoved into your vest pocket. He’s seen you slip them into your bag, seen you hoard them away like a scavenger preparing for winter. But not once has he ever seen you take one out for yourself.

Instead, you give them away.

The first time he notices it is during a long mission in the mountains. They’ve been hiking for hours, waiting on exfil, and Soap mutters something about being starving. Before anyone else reacts, you’re already holding out a ration bar, wordlessly passing it over like it was always meant for him. No hesitation, no second thought.

Soap doesn’t question it- just grins, takes it with a quick “Cheers, soldier.” And Ghost watches as you go right back to scanning the horizon, your own pockets still full of untouched food.

The second time is on base, late at night, when he spots you slipping an extra MRE onto a younger recruit’s bunk while they’re asleep. A quiet, unseen gesture, like it’s second nature. Like you weren’t even thinking about it. Like it was never originally meant for you.

That’s when he starts really paying attention.

You never eat in front of them unless someone directly prompts you. Even then, it’s slow, hesitant—like eating is something you have to remind yourself to do. You pick at your food, taking small bites but never finishing a full plate. The only reason the food on your plate lessens is because he can see you seperating what parts can last longer and wrapping them in tissues to pocket.

When the team eats together after a mission- when John makes a point of ordering extra portions, a rare comfort- you never take more than what you were initially given. Even when everyone else is going back for seconds, even when Soap jokingly piles extra on Gaz’s plate, nudging him with an exaggerated “C’mon, mate, eat up!” You just sit there, nursing whatever small portion you allowed yourself, quietly watching but never joining in.

It isn’t just frugality. It isn’t pickiness.

It’s habit.

A deep, ingrained instinct- hoard what you can, give it to someone else, take only what you need (if that). It’s not just about food. It’s about utility. You’ve carved out a role for yourself, a quiet, invisible way to be useful, even if it means sacrificing your own well-being.

Unacceptable.

So they- because bit by bit, the others notice as well- begin fixing it in a simple way.

During a stakeout, Ghost opens a protein bar and hands you half without a word. He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps his eyes on the horizon like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You stare at it for a second before taking it, chewing slowly, like you’re trying to figure out what the catch is (there isn’t one).

Gaz tosses you bags of trail mixes, always saying it’s too much for him so now you have to finish it before him- the spirit of competitiveness.

Soap and John? They basically stare you down until you actually eat everything on your plate. They don’t order you, or pressure you verbally- just this expectant air around them.

And they pretend, for your sake, that they don’t see your tears when they make the food for you themselves- a warm and home-cooked meal after a tough mission.

(My brain frizzled out for the last part sorry anon 💔)

#noona.asks #noona.reads #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #poly!141 x you #poly 141 x you #poly!141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly!141 #poly 141

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empathicliar · 1 month ago

Text

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀what you deserve ¸.•* eren yeager.

𝟔𝐤. 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 , 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝.

༺❀༻ || 𝐬𝟒!eren , 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫!eren , 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!eren , college ua , for my caramel babies , eager!eren , she / her pronouns , overstimulation , sweet talker , lots of kisses , multiple orgasm's , strangers to lovas , plot based , no protection , cream pie!! >~< , dirty talk , use of pet names.

" when you put a lil' umph in it, that's when i lose control. "

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

there's only so much you can handle in a day's worth before overstimulation kicks in. rocking in a chair for four hours while getting a new row of ginger bundles sewed in by your auntie is already enough. gossiping about how your uncle is a piece of work can get added to that list too.

the white juicy couture track suit you have on is hugging your curves tighter than normal. you have ymir's 'friend' historia to thank for that. you'd only spoken to her once about how loose your tracksuits were and how badly you wanted them tighter and she got to work, completely redoing the threading to boost your ego a little to much.

eager with your hair to be done, you'd already marked a couple of other errands off the list. your fingers nails are coded with medium length cut-out shaped nails. a white base with some carnation pink painted bows. not wanting it to be to basic, you got some pink and white zebra stripes on your middle and pinky fingers.

your white painted toe-nails are covered by the ugg's you had to throw on due to the weather. you were always saying you hated summer until it wasn't around anymore and the cold had you shivering in the warmest of places.

its something about looking, feeling and smelling good that has you obsessed with yourself all over again. the vanilla scent is leaking off every surface of your body, the oil drops in your purse coming in clutch every time you wanted a refresher.

it's about four pm when your hair appointment is done. its something simple you could always deal with. 18 , 22 , 24 inch hair reaching your plush ass, your back already itching from the prickling nest.

" thank you s'much auntie! " you're exclaiming in her ear, already squeezing her to death with a hug.

you're not even close to being done. this winter break is going to be different. you naively figured you could get everything you wanted done while in college, yet when you finally touched the grounds it's like your shoulders slumped further down into a unforgivable pattern.

you stopped taking care of yourself mentally. you never stopped being a pretty bitch, nothing stops that. you got all the main things done. your hair was always styled, you don't play that. you're always soft and buttery smooth. the pet peeve for any hair on your body making you cringe.

you were always smelling good, it just became apparent you weren't going out of your way to take enough time for everything. by the time five rolls around, your sitting on your phone outside of your homegirl's house, waiting for her to get home.

mirrors by jhene aiko is playing softly in the back, your tinted windows are up and the bag of chick-fil-a nuggies are half eaten to your right. being your passy princess until further notice.

it doesn't take long for nicki to get to her place. she has big shopping bags in her hands, big balling on one of these cold ass afternoons. " you have a key to my house, you could've went in. " nicki reminds you, it slipped your mind completely. you glance at the hello kitty charm that hung in-front of your key fob, your dorm room key and her house key.

the long, black table you'd laid on more time's than your own bed has a ring light above it. a strollie with different lash things you'd never taken a hobby to is on the right side of it and the actually bundle set you asked for sits beside a bottle of water. eating the rest of your nuggets while nicki took a few bites of her salad, you both talked for God knows how long.

it's been a while since you've been in this cozy place. the apartment is on the first floor and in a gated community. you were so proud of nicki, she kept her word on making it big in life.

" you still going to ymir's tonight? " she asking while scratching the top layer of your lashes. wrong decision. it's like talking through an intense orgasm. your grabbing her hand to stop her to reply. she's only laughing at you the whole time.

" y-yeah girl i am. " your muttering out, your own laugh pouncing off the walls. nicki is a pro when it comes to getting you up and out of her chair satisfied. she snaps a video of the lashes and your making a fake brave face the whole time trying not to chuckle from the silence.

your in your car again by seven o'clock. playing with your hair in your review mirror, tucking the strands behind your ear and letting the multiple fans in your car fully dry your lashes. the song is back to playing at it's last pause while you move your lid's up in a uncomfortable position and let the air hit the base of your water lines.

you've driven to ymir's place so many times from nicki's house, you've gotten familiar with every back road, speed bump and pothole. the potholes brings back a awful memory of damage you wanted no part of remembering.

the weekend commute of straight peace was in motion. you got to ymir's house later than usually and took a joyful stride to your favorite love seat. the comfort makes you stifle a moan. you've done to much today to not get a break.

a song from ymir's recycled playlist is playing, it might be from sza's new album but you aren't to entirely sure. the only thing on your mind is food and weed. in the middle of the table there's snacks. cheddar popcorn, cherry bite twizzlers, some sour gummies and gushers. you opted on the popcorn and two packs of gushers.

on the back, light tan wall is a flat screen tv that's curved more towards you than it is connie and you finally correct your suspicions when you notice the name of the song and artist. i knew it, your thinking out with bunched up arms.

its seems like its been to long since you've been here and genuinely had time to stay.

since college had started in february, you branched out quickly when it came to friend groups. it wasn't a challenge when said friends had been around since high school. ymir, the brown haired girl with freckles and the nicest jaw line known to man offered you weed for exchanged of a pencil in junior year and connie, a surly boy with short, almost balding grey hair and a sleeve tattoo his mother didn't approve of just so happened to be next to you pouting from your win.

only a month into knowing them both, you were already coming to ymir's house and smoking like no tomorrow. connie tagging along some of the days, but he was mostly with his own group at the time. after high school, you figured this was going to be the time you all parted, saying ' i'll see you tomorrow bitch!' and never actually seeing them.

you were more than wrong when you realized you all had been planning to go the same paths.

those year's led up to these moments. now, every weekend ymir would host these little... parties or when it was strictly chill vibes and no one had the time or the energy to run around with don julio in each hand. she would host a small kickback. only inner friends only.

that consistent of you, ymir, connie's dumb ass, a girl named sasha, who connie knew in pre-school, sasha's close friend jean or john. you'd forgotten a little to quickly for your liking. they'd been coming around for months and last and least, jean's friend eren yeager.

eren's... alright. you don't have anything bad to say about the boy. he's always sweet enough to you but it seems like every time you want to engage in a conversation, its over shadowed by whatever else someone is saying. at the end of the day he's still a stranger you hadn't taken the full time to get to know. it's funny how many times you'd shared a blunt with him, lip's colliding yet never learned a single thing about him.

he has a attracting spirit. the kind you found hot to an extent. he's the type to wear strong fragrances to turn heads and its exactly what he does. that skunky scent of lavish soap and expensive cologne he seemed to never leave the house without was a dead give away he was in the area. he's always adorn in sweat pants and baggy shirt's that don't do him any justice.

you could tell he takes pride in his look, well he somewhat did at least. he always has this self-approving look on his face. his fingers are always decorated with silver rings that go well with the skeleton bone tattoo that paints from his left veiny hand to his shoulder.

it makes it hard not to look his direction when he makes such a grand entrance. he's a real eye catcher, a pretty boy you knew shouldn't be anywhere in your area. you don't do good with flirty looks and bed room eyes. they could lead you to a spare bedroom any fucking time.

" |⋆|, ghost face or michael myers? " ymir asks, breaking you out of your mini tundra.

" probably ghost face, he's so fuckable. " connie rolls his eyes, taking a big hit from the blunt he'd been preparing for minutes. the bud is covered in ashes' by the time he pulls away, heaps of smoke coming from his side of the room.

sasha, who got the second best seat in the house sat a few feet away from you. she giggles. " real recognizes real. " you nodded with a smirk and clapped her hand, the noise echo's in the spacious living room.

" you nigga's are just freaky, that's all it is. " you almost let a 'shut up connie.' fall from your lips but the front door opens. in walks the person who was always late. eren. he has his hands in these loose, black sweat-pant pockets, you don't have to see those daring fingers to know he has them covered with hard looking rings. the grey t'shirt he's wearing has a design on the front you cant really decipher.

" what's up yeager. " eren tilts his head up for a greeting and makes his way to connie. his plush lips twist into a confident simper as he daps the two guys up.

eren's speaking again, taking a glance at the table with half of the snacks missing and only two rolls left. " y'all couldnt wait on me? "

" you take forever. " you say, bringing a dark blanket to your chest. " so what? " eren replies with smugness, his green eyes peering at yours with pure coy. you only return it with your infamous eyeroll to kill his dreams.

'i hate a nigga that knows he's good looking. '

" you live the closest. " stating the obvious, eren plops down in the seat in between connie and jean, folding his arms over the back, man-spreading his clothed legs to get some more room. its like he knows you want to look at his every move. he's too damn fine for his own good.

it isn't long before he's changing his seating position and he's reaching at that brown wooden table for a pack of rolls and the weed grinder. he opens the black container – seeing connie left him enough for one blunt. he's taking his win quickly.

finger's making quick toil on folding the creases in, tongue slipping out to seal it. you're face is fuming when he brings the lighter to the end of the blunt and the light reflects on his face. he's so focused on the misty smoke and not wasting the little he has, he doesn't notice the gushing look he's getting from the woman across the room.

'did it just get hotter in here or something?' you take a glance to the thermostat next to the goldish rimmed painting hanging above your head. sixty-seven degrees and no showing of anything getting hotter anytime soon. you chew on your lip. its probably that thick ass blunt ymir made you. it has to be kicking in or something.

speaking of the freckle faced stoner, she walks back into the room, you hadn't even noticed she'd gotten up. she's empty handed, using one of her hands to swipe a strand of hair out of her face. " bro, can we start the movie? i'm tryna' hang out with historia later. "

sasha ooo's like a school girl, wiggling her pale, small fingers teasingly at ymir. " you're always with historiaaa~. " sasha has this silly smirk on her face and the brown skinned girl groans from it, flipping her middle finger in her direction.

usually it takes a while to pick a movie. by this time the weed is hitting all of them and blurring the limit for time. they would often scroll through the same list on netflix and not even realize it.

this time is a little different, ymir is in a real rush to get to this 'friend' of hers. she has the tiny roku remote in her fingers as she continuously flicker through the movies. she ultimately stops on a scary movie and clicks the screen. she sends a look around the room for any concerns then actually plays the movie.

before the credits have even started the pop of a chip bag is already sounding around the room and cheesy flavoring is flooding your senses. sasha's wincing with a pouty smile, not realizing how alerting the noise was.

the first scene is a white girl manually popping corn. the volume is low but the surround sound speakers ymir got installed almost a year ago make it seem much louder. it isn't long before that same girl is killed in front of a big front yard.

by the time the movie ends, everyone is pretty much out of it. heads leaning on arm rest's. the lighters have stopped clicking and the smell of weed isn't prominent as it used to be. you'd grown used to that cozy smell. the foggy room is actually clear for the first time in years.

wiping your eyes like a kid, then realizing you had on lashes. you curse underneath your breath. looking around the quiet room, sasha and jean are sleeping soundly. connie was sleep twenty minutes into the movie. you could hear his loud ass snores. ymir isn't even in the room anymore. the second the movie ended she was gone out the front door but not without giving you a loused side hug.

you figured you were the only one functioning correctly and tossed the blanket to the side. the cold sends chill's down your arms but you don't mind it. it feels sort of good. your painted feet hit the tiled floor with a small 'plap' sound and you glance around the room to make sure it hadn't woke anyone up.

" where you going' ? " jumping, the fabric of your white, zip up jacket is grasped. instead of consoling your fear, the mad-man laughs.

" stop laughing bro, i almost had a heart attack. " you pause, taking a breath. " thought yo ass was sleep. " you explain further, standing up fully and getting a good, well hazy look at eren. his phone light is on dim and he's barely bringing it up high enough to make it known he's awake.

both of his shoulders are pretty much in use by the two boys he's squished in between. instead of looking uncomfortable, it looks like he found slight comfort in them being next to him. it's leaving a smile on your face instead of a panicked frown.

he hum's, dropping the dark phone in his lap. " still didn't answer my question. " you tilt your head, thinking back to said question.

when it finally hits your scuzzy mind, you're letting out a soft 'oh!' " no where, well i don't know. i just want some fresh air. " you're falsely admitting, stretching your body to release any tension.

did you really need some fresh air or were the stirs from connie and jean making it known they could wake up and once again take away the little time you had to get to know eren? it's probably the bud thinking for you at this point.

" you can come with me. " turning on your heels, you almost miss the several groans from jean and connie from being pushed aside. " you that eager nigga? " questioning with the slightest amount of tease, he's right behind you in a heart beat.

" nah. " turning back to look at him, he's already looking at your back side with a smirk. his own limbs being stretched out. he slips on his slides and you didn't feel like putting on your boots, so you opted on stealing ymir's flip-flops she kept by the door.

you didn't really plan this far out. it has to be around eleven or so, your to high to drive home, you actually didn't need any air and you can already tell its cold as hell outside. it was just the perfect excuse to get out of that room and into a more private one with eren, no one was going to interrupt your mission.

men are so easy, your practically nodding to yourself. ymir's back door is opened and closed within seconds, the back porch is nicely clean except for a few leaves and dirt that you didn't really care about right now, you swiped some dirt off the second step and shuffled to the left to give him some room.

eren is sitting down on the first step soon after, without the hassle of wiping anything down. now, its quiet and cold, and there's really nothing to say or do when the wind is speaking.

" how long you been in shiganshina? " he asks after long periods of silence.

" my whole life. " your replying, low eyes blurry with the upcoming mist from the weather. " and you? "

" born and raised. " then its quiet again. your messing with your acrylic's , only looking up when a tree bristles loud enough to sound like it might fall.

" those are really pretty. " quirking your head up, it seemed like you're staring into a bottomless pit of beauty. eren's not even paying attention to anything but you and the way your skin is still so moist in such cold air.

its little details on his face you thought you'd already noticed before that have you feining. you squint your eyes. his nose is pierced on the right side. the actually dot isn't a dot like yours. its a silver star that's small but glance worthy when anyone see's it.

his hair looks so healthy, not only in the sun but also in the moonlight. you're kind of jealous of that. even in its normal state in that low back bun, you can tell he isn't using men's one-hundred in one. the wind casts a breeze in your direction, that's giving you another reminder. the soft smell of lemon and something sweet like pineapple's is hitting your nose. such different smells that go rewardingly well on him.

" gimme' your hand. " your obeying it without question, he chuckles at the haste and you dare to drag your hand away. " i'm playing pretty, i just want to see. "

" why? " asking nicely and still letting him slither those slender, tattooed fingers over your bedazzled nails, he's humming again and not answering your question now.

" hello? " rubbing his thumb over your knuckle gently, the calluses of his own has you quietly swallowing. he perks your hand up finally and actually looks at the nails now. " my bad, my mom does nails. " you frown, still not understanding what that has to do with him looking at your hands like a meal.

giving him a better show, you half curl your hand and lay it side ways in his own. your palms touching and forming heat you didn't know you needed to entirely bad. " so? " you mutter, not returning the eye contact you know he has on you.

" nothing, she could just do better than this. " he flaunting out, stretching those delicate fingers ever so slightly. you don't even realize he brings both of your hands down and resting them on his rough lap, you're to focused on the cute little gesture's he's making.

" you letting me meet your mommy already? " it was cute how he wanted to get his mom some new clients, he must be a momma's boy. eren's nodding instead of laughing though, replying with simplicity. " yeah. "

" what's up with you bro. " you chuckle. " i don't even know your birthday and your trying to let me meet your mom's- "

" march thirtieth. " cutting you off, you almost forgot you had even said anything about a birthday. your brain is realtering itself to remember that date when this high is over.

eren's not ashamed to look at the prize he wants. he's been plotting for fucking months and nothing is going to break him out of this. his low, emerald eyes are falling down the pattern of your silver zipper, falling into your lap. undressing those lacey panties he just knows you have on under those pants.

it has you shying away, wanting to turn around in your respectful seat. that's when it hits you. that grip on your hand wasn't from your other one. it's from his, unmoving and finally locking into those intimidatingly attractive eyes, your glancing at those wet lips he managed to always keep looking mushy.

you know they are the softest lips you'd ever feel. like pillows sent from heaven. you grip his hand, no longer just wanting to feel his sweaty palm, but those fingers- his fore arms, his strong shoulders. everywhere he'd allow you.

" eren... " encaging his fingers into a tight hold, he takes a quick look at his thigh. he isn't able to hide the side smile that's forming. you don't even know why you're calling his name, you just wanted him to say something with that slutty voice of his. – just acknowledge you in every way possible.

" yeah? " your beady eyes are watering from the constant pressure of wind and its becoming so fucking obvious you both don't want to be in the cold anymore.

" what are you trying to do? "

" you want me to be honest baby? " baby... that word has you dripping, squeezing your thighs together to take away that ache in your cunt. you nod. you can't find those confident words anywhere in sight. its hard to say men are easy when you're soaking just from being close to him.

" i wanna take you to a room and make you feel real good. " his head is cocking to the left and those eyes he kept on you are dropping lower. his hand twitches in your grasp and it doesn't take much to know he's putting you in eight different positions in his head.

" we don't even have to fuck, i just want to eat your pussy. "

your mouth lathers with saliva, and your standing up to entirely quick. eren is laughing behind you and your so horny you don't even tell him off. you don't care about the three people on the couch sleeping good. you want to take this pretty boy up on his offer.

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folded up, knees to your chest. the air is hitting your warm pussy. your panting from the littlest touches to your body. plush form being demolished by the stronger man keeping you still. eren has his hands in the bottom creases of your knees, applying pressure that only gives you minimal lay away to move around.

your pussy is leaking on the sheets, all type's of fluid leaving a stain you didn't care for. he's mouthing on your cunt, his spit coating your pussy in a new layer of slick. eren kept his word. he didn't need to fuck you to feel good. he made that known when he took a long lick from your entrance to the top of your cunt in a slow strobe, whimpering hard.

" stop squirming baby. " he's muttering into your pussy, kissing your puffy clit. face full of your cum and arousal. he's so deep in between those legs he can barely breathe. his stubbled chin constantly coming in contact with your needy, waiting entrance.

you cant keep your hands from gripping at any and everything. your holding onto the spare room pillow, covering your face and mouth to keep the others from hearing the total mess you're steady becoming.

" nah, move that. " you don't listen, your voice pouty and muffled in the pillow. eren doesn't have time to play games with you, he's been doing that for months. he snatches the pillow away himself and throws it at the wall.

" i wanna hear you. fuck them. " your spasming on his tongue again before you can speak. weeps of moans falling on deaths door from the amount of pleasure happening on your pretty pussy. your hiccupping from the lack of air entering your lungs, to caught up on the way eren is twisting his tongue over your sensitive clit.

eren's been licking, flicking and sucking on your clit for almost a hour. he just can't get enough of you. you taste so sweet and tarty, its like a fucking desert he can only indulge in. anything your body is willingly to push out for him to taste he's sucking it up.

fucking his tongue in and out of your tight hole, eyes open the entire time to watch you come undone. your hair is sticking to your face, the ginger bringing the caramel out of your skin and aiding your beauty. he didn't think you could get any more sexier.

" fuck baby, " smacking your inner thigh, he gets a breather before he actually dies in the best way possible. " pussy to damn dangerous. " he's huffing and hitting those soft, thick thighs, wanting nothing more than to leave his marks on your skin.

your cute little face scrunches and yelps fill the room, his mouth falling back on those fat lips to get another sample, tasting that sweet juicy fruit. his jaw is hurting and damn near begging for it to end but he doesn't give a fuck. he wants to make you feel good, too good.

your to much of a pretty girl to not have someone in between these legs every day. " 'ren! " eren speeds up, ignoring those pleas. " 'ren, baby please. " you're begging, the knot in your stomach forming from the endless pleasure. you don't know if your begging because its too much or he's to damn good at this and you need to repay him somehow.

– between the base of your thighs being smacked and the vibration of eren moaning, a shock ascends throughout your body. cumming for the third time that night. stars are forming in the far corners of your eyes. it feels like eren has full control of your body. he's keeping you still with only two arms and smirking from how fucked out you already look.

your body is still twitching and it takes a army and every working limb you have to pull him off of you by his hair. he's raspy and to happy for someone who could've died from being to pussy drunk. your chest is heavy and it feels like you can finally inhale properly.

" my bad. " sheepishly apologizing, he plants a soft kiss to your abused clit and toothily smiles when you give him a death stare. gently bringing your knees from your squished chest down, he's kissing your sore knee-caps, wetly sucking on the frontal part of your thighs.

somethings bothering you heavily and its making your chest warm unnaturally seeing him care about every aspect of your body. " why are you taking care of me? "

" whatchu' talking about? "

" this. " you lazily point at his hands that sting a way into your pores. " you kissing on me like you love me and shit. "

" wouldn't go that far. " your rolling your red eyes again and dragging a hand down to your tummy, letting it rest for the time being. " this is mandatory though. you just fuck with the wrong boys. " you want to take it as a stray but actually process it. have you really been messing with guy's who didn't think to care for your body?

it has you recurring every misaligning person you let into your safe space and have a way with your figure. " hey, don't think about it " eren snaps in your face. " that's why i'm here, ima take care of you baby. promise. "

biting your lip, your pushing everything away because he asked you too and something about that foreign feeling doesn't feel to damn bad. you don't have it in you to talk or ask him for anything else, but you spread those legs of yours and beckon him to come here. how can he ever say no to you.

he's shuffling in-between you, applying his hand on one of the pillows next to your head. you stare into his alluring eyes, raking your hand from your own stomach to his. he's gulping, his adam's apple plumping with nerves.

" you wanna fuck me yeager? " he feels like a virgin when you speak like that. anxious and scared to disappoint, he's nodding, bring his head down to plant a soft kiss to your plump lips. just like you thought, they're so pulpy and flush. he kisses like butter, like a piece of bubble gum that's so slinky you almost want to swallow it.

the kiss is deepening with the mood, the fist in his hair is keeping him from cumming in his pants. he almost doesn't want to pull away but he can feel her dripping under him and there's only so much his dick can take before it's begging to be buried inside that soft cushion.

he's making quick work with his clothes. sitting on the balls of his feet, he's tugging his shirt over his head. the sight of his toned chest has you gawking. it's a good thing he only wore comfy clothing, you would've pounced on him the moment he walked into this house.

" take your time... " you joke, casting your surly eyes to the space below your plush tummy. tapping your nails on your stomach. he's already groaning from the sight. you didn't think he could get any faster, he's slipping out of pants and those tight boxers in second.

to say you were disappointed never crossed your mind. you're actually fucking nervous. he's thick, with a healthy pink tip and some inches that make you squeeze your stomach in.

" don't go getting scared on me pretty. " stroking his length, he's bringing your left leg up, kissing the base of your ankle sloppily. his dick is leaking with pre-cum, slouching his tip on your clit. you both let out a soft gasp.

the feeling is euphonic, sensitive clit being brought back to life with one little swipe. your grinding lightly on his tip and he's hissing from how wet she is. " yeah baby, mhmm... you know how to do it. " he praises, his teeth biting into his cheek.

" put it in 'ren. " lifting your hips, you get so close to pushing his dick in and he aids it, his brows knitting, mouth falling open when he aligns it right, sliding into your entrance with ease.

the moan's fall off the wall. he's stretching you so well. the pain almost feels too good. your mouth shaped into a 'o and your hands are fumbling for something new to grab. eren has his head draped down to watch him slip inside of that pussy that cant help but suck him in.

he's whimpering when you clench- moaning when you're folding your legs around him to push in deeper. it's like he can cum from this alone. you just hugging him in has him gapping.

" pussy to fuckin' wet, fuckkk. " he's groaning out in between deep thrusts, pace picking up fast as fuck for someone on the verge of tapping out. your body is following his orders, back arched with intent to make him feel good. eyes rolling from the captivity of his being.

its almost to much when he pushes in to deep, hips runting into your poor cunt like she hadn't been through enough. his tip is ramming into that gushy spot inside of you that has your brain shuttering to working. your mewling loud -- unable to form a single coherent word.

legs pulled tight to hold him in, cunt tightening on his dick making his steady thrust sloppy for mere seconds before he's back to putting in work. dainty fingers coming to rest on his v-line, not pushing but not letting him reach that spot that makes you go fucking crazy. he's silent with how bothered he is about that hand, he knows you're still sensitive and recovering from those heavenly orgasms, but he's to entuned to stop when he knows it'll make you feel so, so good.

" move it. " he's stating with attitude, you refuse to and he only slows down. you whine from the loss. your moaning his name pathetically, lifting your own hips to get that feeling back before its gone. he holds your supple hips down, leaning down to kiss and fondle with your brown nipples.

" e'ren, come on! "

" you gonna keep that fuckin' hand down? " you nod, panting, surprised you were even able to speak in the first place. he's returned that pace little by little, watching your fingers retreat to one of the blue pillows behind your back, eyes closed.

head hanging low, hair coming out of that bun from all the tugging, he almost looks like a greek status above you- one hand on your tummy, squishing it down to feel the cave his dick is making, the other bringing your left leg back to his lips, folding you – he's to caught up in how response you are to his touches.

propping your ankle on his shoulder, leaning down to look you dead in your watery eyes. you cant shy away from nothing now. he's thrusting in deep, pussy gushing all over the sheets and his length. eye's faltering when it comes to keeping that contact.

" i'm so close baby. " he's warning you and your nodding to agree with him, your arms lifting to his neck, dragging him down for a kiss. tongue lacing with his like second nature – eyes shut when that knot in your guts is on the verge of breaking and broken cries are falling in between the kiss.

" gonna cum in you baby, you don't mind that d-do you? " to head-struck, your nodding like a idiot in heat. that gives eren a new goal, he's stroking in like a wild animal, biting his lip so hard it bleeds when you squeeze him.

trying your hardest to keep your moans in, eren pushes in one last time and hits that blurry spot that renders you brain dead. your moaning, clawing on his v'line with that new set to keep him from moving. cunt completely spent and aching again when eren is painting your walls white.

the warm feeling only making it worse, now he cant move or you might regret it. eren's heaving, one hand on the headrest to puff out and rush in the smell of sex, vanilla and shea butter.

" fuckkk i gotta' get you a plan b asap. "

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©𝙀𝙈𝙋𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙍 any sort of stealing or modifying is prohibited, mess with your momma not me.

#omg is that neemie? ✩#eren yeager #attack on titan #fanfic #blktumblr #anime #eren fanfiction #black reader #eren x reader #aot smut #eren x you #neemie's babies.#explore #university

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takes1 · 1 month ago

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newest drop was fire bro🙌🔥🔥🔥

oikawa crushing on quiet!reader

ts made me smile. much appreciated ❤️ no smut this time; i'm getting smut fatigue. needed a short palette cleanser. thinking about doing some short form stuff while i work through the pre-january requests.

warnings. none, sfw

details. fem!reader / fluffy, feel-good fic / quiet!reader / oikawa crushing / 'weird'!reader / nerd x popular trope / oikawa is obsessed with you / based off of the 'hi wayne/bye wayne' audio / whipped!oikawa / iwa being a good person / 800 words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3.

"Hi, Tohru," You said, just as you did every day, to turn in your homework to the teacher's desk.

Oikawa was leaning forward, engaged in finishing a hushed story with Iwazumi. But your light, airy tone -void of any old, tired motive- took precedence with no further thought.

"-And then he was-- Hi, (Y/n)."

He perked up in many ways, just in time for you to walk by his desk again. Eyes wider, an uncontrollable smile brightening his former, serious expression- his brow softer, as he twisted to watch you return to your seat.

It was unclear why you felt comfortable enough to be on a first-name basis. Oikawa didn't mind. It distinguished you, like many things did, from the girls who only spoke to him because they were after something.

"The fuck was that?" Iwa searched his expression, finding some kind of emotion, or thought pattern at the very least, that he had never seen on his friend before.

Oikawa turned back around, confused, but not defensive.

"What?"

"That," Iwa asserted, shortly before he was called to face forward. He muttered, under his breath, "-That look on your face."

Oikawa was left to figure it out, a hint of effort on his brow, for the remainder of class.

Lunch eventually came around. He was still feeling different, and wasn't sure if it was what Iwa pointed out, or not.

In the process of standing to grab his lunch from his bag, and go eat outside like he usually did with his friend, he caught a quick glimpse of you. You were folding another addition to the row of tiny, paper cranes on your desk.

"C'mon," Iwa shouldered his bag.

Oikawa took a step, but lingered a moment longer.

You were sitting alone, but you didn't look sad about it. The seat in front of you was empty.

He filled it, despite Iwa's quiet protests, and sat backwards to watch you. The bench they usually chose to sit at sucked, because it was regularly bombarded with people he didn't know, all trying to talk to him. He usually never got to eat his lunch.

"Hi Tohru," You smiled, choosing not to look at him, in order to focus on your craft.

His reply was a fond sigh, "Hi, (Y/n)."

From here, he had the privilege of finally getting a good look at your face.

There was a sort of mild, unbothered, pleasantness to you. You weren't worried about anything else. You didn't give a damn that he was here, much less that he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

Iwa flicked him, hard, in the back of the head. It was after he shot back upright, rubbing the sore spot, that he realized he had been leaning slowly forward.

"Don't be a dick," Iwa muttered.

The assumption was such a leap in logic that Oikawa had no idea what he meant. You added another crane, that tiny, permanent smile on your pretty face.

He ignored him. Instead, he opted to try talking to you for the first time, "Um- are you going to eat your lunch?"

Still not looking at him, you were tearing off another page-- "I forgot it."

Again, you didn't seem like you minded such a dismal thing. Without much further thought, he grabbed his and set it in your workspace.

This was the only time you would look up at him.

A shudder wracked down his spine, rendering his voice a bit weak, "Yo-u can have mine."

There was some consideration in your eyes, before you pushed it back towards him, and refocused on your paper, "No. You need to eat. Aren't you playing a big match, soon?"

The way you asked made it seem like you weren't looking for an answer.

"Uh-," He did you the liberty of freeing up your desk space again, lunch box in his clammy hands, "Yeah- yeah, we are."

Iwa was getting tired of standing- you heard him shift his weight and sigh. He was still under the assumption that Oikawa was trying to flirt for some useless, and cruel joke.

"You can sit there," You motioned to the desk next to Oikawa.

His inflection was stilted, and his cadence was slow as he, hesitantly, took a seat.

"Thanks..."

It was quiet for a while, aside from the other students chatting from further back in the classroom. Iwa watched his friend face forward and eat slowly, slouched at the shoulders. It was an unusual sight.

Gradually, it dawned on him that this superficial pretty boy -in a rare, natural phenomenon- held a deeply genuine and innocent crush.

When they got up at the ring of the next bell, you were about 20 cranes deep. Oikawa left you, with another wistful stare, to head back to his seat. Though he loved how you didn't need to fill the silence, he wished he could make more conversation with you.

The classroom began filling up again, getting louder, and crowded for the next subject.

He was flitting his pencil between his sluggish fingers, a frown deep and heavy against his knuckles, when you came into view once more.

Another precious moment of hopeful, heart-pounding glee.

You placed a crane on his desk, then straightened it up, "Bye, Tohru."

This time, you waited long enough for him to properly respond, dawning that uncontrollable grin again, "Bye, (Y/n)."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu

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zeehasablog · 3 months ago

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The Yellow Wallpaper

Based on the short story written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, The Yellow Wallpaper is short story, written as first person journal entries. The narrator is experiencing severe depression after the birth of a child, and her husband rents a home for the Summer, with hopes she can recover. She is confined to an upstairs nursery, where we find The Yellow Wallpaper.

As a form of treatment, the husband forbids the journal writer from working or writing, and encourages her to eat well and get plenty of air so that she can recuperate from what he calls a "temporary nervous depression – a slight hysterical tendency", a common diagnosis in women at the time. (wiki)

Of course, she still writes; as she descends into madness, obsessing about the wallpaper, which appears to pull her in. Seeing a woman creeping through it.

At night in any kind of light, in twilight, candlelight, lamplight, and worst of all by moonlight, it becomes bars! The outside pattern I mean, and the woman behind it is as plain as can be. I didn’t realize for a long time what the thing was that showed behind,—that dim sub-pattern,—but now I am quite sure it is a woman... It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern.

SO; here, we have the beautifully created pattern by @femmefatalegoth, inspired by the wallpaper described above. See if you can find the women in its intricacy.

I have added cornices and wainscotting, and a version with cornice and baseboard only.

I really didn't want to change the colour of the wallpaper , because it's The Yellow Wallpaper. So; sorry, not sorry, to those who want it in different colours - but feel free to do it yourself if you know how!

Unfortunately, due to limitations on how the wallpaper is made up in the game, I've had to do separate files to each type of cornice & wainscot:

I added the feature to make Sims tense when they're around the wallpaper!

Anyway - I hope you like these as much as I LOVE them! The colour is very bright, and it really helps you feel like the narrator in The Yellow Wallpaper.

I highly recommend reading the story. Maybe you can relate it to how you have felt at some time - I certainly have.

Download for free via Curseforge~

#TheSims4 #The Sims 4 #TS4 #my cc #the sims #sims community #ts4 cc #simblr #sims 4 custom content #victorian #wallpaper #The Yellow Wallpaper #Charlotte Perkins Gilman #Yellow #femmefatalegoth #historiccc #historicalcc #historic sims

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burningembers91 · 30 days ago

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Losing You - Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

The Girl Next Door Kimchi Stew The Beginning of Something Beautiful

Synopsis: Plagued by nightmares of losing you, Hwang In-Ho struggles with his fears. When your life is put in danger, he doesn't hesitate to protect you. But actions have consequences, and when a figure from his past emerges, In-Ho is forced to face his past once again.

A/N: Based on this ask. Also, I'm aware that this fic displays wholly inaccurate police procedures, but for the purposes of the storyline, suspend your disbelief :)

Hwang In-Ho could tell his was dreaming. He knew that what was happening before him wasn’t real, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself from the nightmarish grip of sleep. It was a pattern that had repeated itself for the last few months, horrific nightmares about losing you that left him shaking in sweat-soaked sheets. In his dreams, he’d seen you die a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, and In-Ho was always powerless to stop it.

Tonight, his nightmare took place in a hospital, your lifeless figure lying in a hospital bed as he was dragged down the hall kicking and screaming by doctors and nurses. He’d had so many of these dreams by now that his mind knew it was playing tricks on itself, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. Willing himself to wake up, to just open in his eyes and end the nightmare, he somehow managed to claw his way back to reality.

You were leaning over him in bed, stroking his face, saying his name gently as you tried to rouse him from his sleep. It took In-Ho a few seconds to realise where he was, safe in your bed with you, like he was every night. The last few months had been nothing short of blissful, your relationship going from strength to strength. He barely went back to his apartment anymore, choosing to spend his days and nights with you. you were looking for a place that you could move to together, somewhere the two of you could put your own stamp on. He was happy, happier than he had been in years, but in the back of his mind he was always terrified that history would repeat itself. His wife had been so cruelly snatched from him, so who was to say that wouldn’t happen to you too?

“I’m right here,” you soothed, brushing his sweat-soaked hair from his face, pulling In-Ho close into your body as you felt him shake against you. you didn’t know how to help, didn’t know how to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. He’d been speaking to a therapist, but the sessions didn’t stop the nightmares. “It was so real,” he whispered, clinging to you as you cradled him. “I know,” you murmured, “but I’m still here. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream.” You held each other in the quiet darkness of your apartment, your hands entwined as you waited for sleep to return.

The daylight brought with it a new perspective, as it always did. During the day he could keep busy, could keep his mind focused on something else. It was at night when he closed his eyes, and his subconscious was free to roam that caused problems. He felt embarrassed for having nightmares, it felt so childish to him. “I made breakfast,” he smiled to you as you exited the shower. A plate of pancakes was piled high on the kitchen counter, complete with a coffee in your favourite mug. You sat down to eat, neither of you bringing up the events of last night. It was now a weekly occurrence, and you’d been round and round in circles before about his nightmares, but nothing seemed to help. You found the best way to deal with it was to use the daylight to show In-Ho that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Why don’t we go for dinner this evening?” you asked, polishing off your pancakes before downing the last of your coffee. “I can book us a table at that Italian place we like?” “That sounds perfect,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss you as he took your plate to the sink. Life with you was so close to perfect. You’d given In-Ho a purpose again, you made him laugh, made him feel on top of the world. You just got each other in a way no one had before, and he found himself falling in love with you more every day. If only he could stop these nightmares, life would really be like a perfect dream.

He made sure to stay busy at work, focusing on the tasks at hand and the dinner tonight. He’d called his therapist at lunch to schedule an extra session, determined to rid himself of the horrible visions. He was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that life was unpredictable, that he as hard as he tried, he couldn’t maintain complete control. He decided to focus on the little things that made him happy, to lose himself in the joys of the everyday rather than worrying about things that might not ever happen. He was looking forward to dinner tonight, to seeing you in the black velvet dress that hugged every curve. He was looking forward to having a glass of wine with you, to wondering back home through the park you both loved so much.

By the time he headed home, In-Ho was feeling a lot more positive. You were already getting ready, music playing as you uncorked a bottle of wine. You had the dress on, the one that made his heart skip a beat. “You look stunning,” he whispered, coming up behind you and winding his hands round your waist. You were wearing the perfume he’d bought you on a recent weekend away, the smell of honey and amber winding its way deliciously around his senses. He couldn’t resist, could never get enough of you. his lips trailed up your neck and along your jaw, rewarding him with the sweetest moans that fell from your lips. He made love you to on the kitchen counter, your dress pulled up round your waist, the bottle of wine long forgotten.

You were almost late for your reservation, unable to tear yourselves away from each other. Neither of you could stop smiling, your fingers entwined as you waited for your meals to arrive. You never tired of each other’s company, never ran out of things to talk about. In-Ho had forgotten all about the nightmares that plagued him, so lost in the moment with you. You walked back through the park, stopping to look up at the stars that shone in the clear night sky. You had new shoes on, ones that you hadn’t properly worn in yet, and they were starting to rub on the back of your heels. “Does it hurt?” In-Ho asked, watching as you examined the blisters that had started to form. “A bit,” you admitted. “But we aren’t far from home now. I’ll be ok.” But as you pushed the shoes back on, he saw the grimace you pulled. “You can’t walk back like that,” he sighed, “you’ll damage your feet. Stay here; I’ll run to the convenience store and get some band aids.”

The store was less than a minutes’ walk from the park, and In-Ho grabbed band aids and a bar of chocolate for you. He was finding it hard to stop smiling, his jaw aching as he wondered how he’d managed to get so lucky. He was on his way back when he heard the scream, the shrill, blood-chilling sound piercing the air around him. He knew instantly that it was you, and his heart dropped. His nightmares were becoming a reality. Every awful scenario he’d dreamt of raced through his head as he sprinted back to the park. He shouldn’t have left you on your own you; he should have piggy-backed you home and then gone for band-aids. If something had happened to you, he would never forgive himself.

He saw you struggling with a figure, the strap of your purse in your hand while the stranger had hold of the other end. You screamed again as you kicked out, trying to loosen the mugger’s grip. In-Ho was on in him a second, tackling your assailant to ground as he rained punches down on every available part of his body. He’d never been a violent man, had never had any cause to be. But in that moment, every ounce of sense vacated his body, leaving only the crippling fears that haunted his dreams at night. This man could have hurt you, could have taken you away from him. he couldn’t let that happen; he couldn’t even begin to fathom a world without you in it. he was vaguely aware of you shouting his name, telling him to stop. But he couldn’t, it was like he wasn’t in control of his body anymore. In the end, it took three people to drag In-Ho off the man who had tried to mug you, the man who was left cowering on the floor, begging for him to stop. The police turned up shortly afterwards, carting In-Ho away as he heard your protestations. “He was saving me!” you cried, “I was being mugged!” He couldn’t see you as the car drove away, but he could hear you calling after him.

The interview room at the police station was cold and dark, the single lightbulb in the room flashing intermittently. In-Ho’s knuckles were bloodied and bruised, but he barely felt the pain. He heard the door open, heard footsteps approach him. He didn’t look up as the detective sat in front of him, his mind only focused on you. “Three years it’s taken me to find you,” said a voice all too familiar to In-Ho. “Three years, and I finally come face to face with you after you beat a man unconscious.” Looking up, he came face to face with his brother, the man who had begged In-Ho to stay after the death of his wife. His brother, who had cried with him at his wife’s funeral, who had stayed by his side for the first few weeks after her death, who had searched tirelessly for a man who didn’t want to be found.

In-Ho didn’t know how to reply. He’d thought about his brother often, wondering what he was doing. The last time he’d seen him, Hwang Jun-Ho had been a rookie cop, and now he was confidently holding a detective’s badge. He’d grown up a lot since he’d last seen him, now possessing an air of confidence and authority. “My-“ In-Ho was desperate to know how you were, to know if you were hurt, but Jun-Ho cut him off. “Your girlfriend’s fine,” he snapped. “She’s in the waiting area with a coffee. The man you beat up though, he’s in the hospital with 26 stitches in his face.” Jun-Ho shook his head, unable to believe his brother was sat in front of him. “I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive,” he hissed, “I half expected to get a call saying your body had washed up on the banks of the River Han. Where have you been?” In-Ho chewed the inside of his lip, looking down at the handcuffs locked tightly around his wrists. “I want to help you, In-Ho,” his brother said. “But I need you to tell me what’s going on.” And so In-Ho told Jun-Ho about his life, about how he’d all but given up, how he’d spent three years watching the world from his apartment window. He told him how you’d turned up at his door, and his life had finally started looking up. “You’d really like her,” he smiled, “she’s one of a kind.” “She’s feisty,” Jun-Ho agreed, “almost bit my head off when I went to go and speak to her. She’s worried about you.” He admitted to Jun-Ho he’d been having nightmares, how his reaction to the man attacking you was related to the deep-rooted fear he had of losing you. He wasn’t sure how long he was sat in that interview room for, going over every inch of his life with his estranged brother. He had so many questions he wanted to ask Jun-Ho, but his number one focus was getting back to you.

He was finally released, Jun-Ho somehow pulling strings allowing him to go home. You threw yourself into his arms when you saw him, your red rimmed eyes brimming with tears. “Let’s go home,” In-Ho told you, knowing this ordeal was far from over. His actions, no matter you viewed it had been wrong. A man had been injured because of him, and he knew he’d have to face the consequences. Jun-Ho had promised to help, but on the condition that In-Ho allowed him back into his life. He lay awake that night, sleep evading him as he wondered what the future would hold. He’d been so worried about losing you that he didn’t stop to wonder about the possibility of you losing him. He could face jail time over what he’d done, despite the fact he was protecting you. He hoped his brother could help, hoped the courts would see his side of things. He held you tightly as you lay next to him, your body draped over his. He wondered if Jun-Ho would keep his word. In-Ho had abandoned him and their mother, shutting them out when all they’d done was try to help him.

He had a lot of making up to do, a lot of bridges that he needed to rebuild. In-Ho hoped he’d have a chance to do that, hoped he’d be able to rebuild the relationships he’d destroyed when he left. He only hoped he’d be given the chance to set things right.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho #hwang in yeop #hwang in ho x you #lee byung hun

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montesmithart · 10 days ago

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Fruity dragon character I designed for myself! ☀️🍉

His name is Fiji and he’s based on pitaya, kiwi, starfruit and watermelons <3 Also has a little pet friend named Banan 🍌

Design overview:

- those tail thingies are not scales, they are soft growths. to hide them, Fiji just shakes his tail. then they fold up and look like folded scales

- two growths on his colorful tail are white

- has soft growths on the neck which look like a starfruit. they are even softer and more delicate than the tail ones

- ears are kiwi-like 🥝 for some reason they also remind me of kiwi with chocolate, which makes me want to eat them all the time xD

- white eyelashes, pink eye irises

- wings on the top and bottom have different patterns - there’s a kiwi pattern on the top and a pitaya pattern on the bottom

- the pawpads are starfruit-like 🐾

- horns always look beautifully shiny and shimmery, like a very bright and delicious dessert

- Fiji has a watermelon on his back! 👀✨

- has a pet friend with a talking name, Banan. he’s just a handsome guy. very funny, can replicate the sound of any animal and is super huggable :D

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cookiescribble · 9 months ago

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Interrupted

A/N: this is just a short little thing i’ve had in my head for a while, and the writer’s block is finally clearing up a little so i’ve been able to write more again :) hope you like it! - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer finally have an evening off, and are happy to spend it together. But nights off are never a guarantee when you work at the BAU. (based on 9x23)

CW: suggestive but not explicit behavior, reader gets a little wine drunk, mild discussion of sex lives.

~~~

You were enjoying a nice, quiet dinner at home, soft music playing in the background. You were a little dressed up, wearing a casual dress and some jewelry to match, trying to pretend it was a date night and not just spaghetti and wine you got from the grocery store. Making the best out of the little time you had to plan this.

Spencer was sitting across from you, smiling as he held his glass of water out to you. “To finally having a night off?”

You smiled back at him, clinking his cup with your wine glass. “To finally having you all to myself tonight.” You winked at him as you took a sip of wine. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it made the night a little more special.

He took a sip of his water, gesturing to your wine glass. “Be careful with that, you turn into trouble when you have too much wine.” His words sounded like a warning, but his tone was teasing, a grin on his face.

At that, you smiled mischievously, taking a bigger sip of wine. “I think I’m allowed to cause a little trouble on our day off.” You put your glass down, picking up your fork to start eating your dinner. “We deserve to have a little fun tonight.”

Dinner wasn’t much different than it usually was when you two were home together, but it felt nice to be able to sit at the dinner table across from each other after dealing with so much work lately. There was light flirting back and forth between you and Spencer through your meal, setting the mood for the evening. Every sip of wine you took made you feel a little more flushed and bubbly, making the flirting start escalating a bit. You could feel yourself noticing more things about Spencer as he ate across from you: the way his fingers moved around his fork as he twirled it in his plate, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed his food, the way his lips parted when he took a sip of water…

“That’s a dangerous look you’re giving me, you know.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Spencer spoke, a smirk on his face as he set his fork down. You met his eyes, matching his smirk, reaching out to grab his hand from across the table. “Is it?” You asked innocently, starting to trace patterns in the palm of his hand, making him shudder softly.

“It is,” he replied, his voice soft and deep. “I think you know what you’re doing when you look at me like that.” He slowly stood up, walking over to you and tilting your chin up with his finger. “You better be ready to take responsibility for this.”

You stood up, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing your faces close, your lips stopping just short of touching his. “Oh, I’m definitely planning on taking responsibility…” One of your fingers started to trail down his face, slowly tracing over his bottom lip. You could see his face start to heat up a bit at your touch, his breath hitching. “If you’re ready, that is,” you said in a quiet, breathy tone.

That little touch seemed to set him off, as he grabbed your face and crashed his lips with yours, bumping you into the table with the abrupt force.

Suddenly, you both were stumbling through the living room, hands all over each other as you made your way to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You fell back onto the bed, Spencer taking you into his arms after shrugging off the shirt you mostly unbuttoned on your way here.

His lips were on yours again, the weight of his body starting to push down on you as he settled on top of you. He started pushing down the straps of your dress, his lips moving down to your neck. He started peppering kisses there, quickly at first, before they started getting slower and deeper.

“You look really good in this dress, you know that?” His voice was husky as his tongue met your skin, earning a lustful sigh from you in response. “So pretty…” he whispered between kisses, starting to gently bite down on your neck.

“Spence…” you moaned out, already turning into a mess underneath him, even though you were still fully dressed. The wine mixed with his sweet words and lustful bedroom eyes, you could hardly stand to wait anymore. Your hands tangled in his hair as his teeth grazed your skin, his eyes closed in concentration as he felt your body react underneath him. His lips started slowly trailing downward from your neck, starting to move under your collar…

Suddenly, you were startled by the sound of your phone going off, making you both groan.

“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is,” you pleaded as Spencer stood up to look at your phone. He held it out to you, showing you a text indicating that you had to go into work for a case. You grumbled as you sat up, readjusting your dress. “I swear to god, I am quitting this job. I mean it.”

Spencer laughed, opening the closet to start putting on a purple button-down shirt. “Relax, we’ll get some time to ourselves at the hotel later.” He took out a tie, putting it around his neck as he reached out his hand to help you up out of bed. He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Maybe we can continue this then?”

You sigh, starting to rifle through drawers to throw on a sweater over your dress. There wasn’t really time to find a whole new outfit. “I hope so, but I don’t know if I realistically see that happening.”

The two of you rushed to get dressed and ready, knowing you needed to be out the door as soon as possible. You skipped brushing your hair, tying it up for now and just throwing your hairbrush in your go-bag with everything else you needed. Spencer was pulling on a cardigan as he reached out to hug you from the side, kissing your temple before grabbing his messenger bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “Ready?” He asked as you started walking through the door.

“I guess,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Spencer reached down to kiss your cheek as he locked the apartment door behind you, making you smile. “The hotel rooms better be nice,” you added, grabbing his hand as you walked to your car.

“Agreed,” he replied, laughing lightly as you both entered the car, pulling out of the parking lot and heading for the office.

…

You were walking fast after getting off the elevator, rushing to meet up with everyone, when you heard some of the team members talking.

“So…” You heard JJ’s voice down the hall. “We get Henry to bed, and, y’know, we’re about to finally have some alone time with mommy and daddy, and…” She trailed off, and as you entered the room, you saw her roll her eyes from afar. “You guys know the rest,” she finished, sounding annoyed.

“Ah, trying to dust off the ol’ cobwebs,” Derek joked, laughing.

Penelope hit him on the shoulder. “Inappropriate!” She exclaimed, before turning back to JJ. “Seriously, though, how long has it been?”

You laughed, seeing her intense face as you walked closer to joining everyone. Always so curious. Or nosy, you could say. But it was a part of her that was endearing.

“Too long,” JJ replied flatly.

You finally reached the group, putting your stuff down and greeting everyone.

JJ looked over at you and Spencer, a slight smirk on her face. “Well, looks like I wasn’t the only one interrupted,” she remarked, noticing how you both still looked a little disheveled after rushing to get here.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Bite me,” you replied sarcastically.

She gestured over to you, pointing at your neck. “Looks like someone already did,” she snickered.

You looked down to see a small bruise starting to form on your neck. You didn’t really look in the mirror while you were getting ready, so you didn’t notice the mark there.

You looked pointedly at Spencer as your hand went to your neck. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he mouthed silently, looking a little guilty.

You quickly took your hair down, grabbing the brush from your bag and starting to smooth your hair down. You could see Penelope open her mouth to ask probing questions. Everyone seemed to be too curious about your relationship, asking way too many questions when you finally told everyone you and Spencer were dating. Especially Penelope. Thankfully, she was cut off before she could say anything.

“Do we know what the case is?” Alex asked, letting you drop the subject of your evening activities and shift the focus to work. You snuck one last glance at Spencer, who smiled at you and reached out for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you settled into your new evening plans.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

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porcalinecunt · 15 days ago

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𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐒 ♡

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 reiner has a strange obsession with your panties, so why not allow him to unleash some of his degeneracy with you?

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ REINER BRAUN X MALE!READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader , pussyjobs , panty fucking , pervy reiner , pussy drunk reiner , mentioned scent kink , whimpering , some dirty talk , implied size difference , pet names (reini, baby, babe) , reiner is the biggest cutie :<

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ ] this was inspired by a vid i saw on twt and i immediately thought of reiner <3 might be my last one for a bit since im heading to japan this weekend. stayed tuned and enjoy!

you never quite got it, this strange yet adorable fixation your boyfriend has.

reiner, as big and burly as he is, grows weak at the sight of your pretty little panties. whether he accidentally took one out of the dryer or sees you in them while walking obliviously around the house, it strikes a sensitive nerve that has him rushing to your shared bedroom to stroke his boner away.

he never speaks about it, as he’s too embarrassed to admit that he’s basically turned on at the mere thought of your panties. but can you blame him? with the pairs you wore, he almost asked you to consider modelings for undergarment lines.

some pairs were simple whites with a different colored bow sitting neatly in the middle, some were in different colors and patterns. his personal favorites being the lacey ones, the pairs that barely covered your skin, the intricate designs keeps his eyes glued onto you while his dick grows an inch in his pants.

when you’re not around is reiner at his very worst, the moment you’re out of sight is when he indulges in his degeneracy. stealing pairs, used or not, just to inhale whatever sweet scent you left behind as he jerks himself off. his mind would fill itself with whatever fantasy he could conjure up on the spot, eating your sopping cunt or tearing a pair off with his own teeth. you expect nothing once you come back home, ready to slip on another comfy pair to walk around in.

unfortunately, reiner has a breaking point. walking out of a hot shower with nothing but a towel hanging off his hips into the shared bedroom, catching you scrolling away on your phone in nothing but his oversized beater and a fresh pair of striped panties. one that happens to be his favorite.

“hm? oh hey there reini~ ♡” you greeted him in a sing-song voice.

reiner could barely reply, staring at the way your thighs rubbed against one another. it didn’t take long for you to notice of course, reiner has a face anyone can read from afar. “reiner..?” you asked. “something you wanna tell me?”

boy, did he tell you alright. immediately dropping the towel and climbing onto your startled self, taken aback by how hard he was. you were used to his spontaneous libedo, nothing a quickie can fix. only this time, it’s more then a quick fuck n’ dump.

“you’re panties babe..” he mumbled, barely telligible until you watched him press his leaking tip against your clothed pussy. oh . . .

“wanna fuck em’ reini? talk to me sweetie. ♡” you giggled, sneaking your hand down to drag your fingers against his wet shaft. he let out a shaky moan, rubbing his dick against the soaked fabric until it slipped in. the base of his cock trapped between the flesh of your cunt and the pink n’ white stripes of your panties.

“oh shit—” reiner’s fingers dug into the sheets beside your head until his knuckles turned white. he wasted no time fucking himself against your underwear, the harsh rubbing of the material along with the feeling of your cunt against his girth drove him mad.

“you l-love this, don’t ya?” you sighed, staring down at the view in awe. you didn’t know what was better, his hardening cock fucking against you or his face twisted in pure pleasure. blonde brows slightly arched with his eyes almost screwed shut, his mouth slightly open with whimpers spilling through, all with his face dusted in a shade of red.

you were already close by the sight alone, hips now bucking against his. “ah..reini, tell me—“

“i love it baby—“ he chokes out. “i fuckin’ love it, shit, i love you..”

you couldn’t help it, pushing yourself upwards via your palms just to press a soft kiss on his lips. reiner, being the weak one as usual, instantly melts into the kiss until he practically caves onto your body. you took initiative, locking your legs around his waist as you grinded against his crotch while pressing sloppy kisses wherever you could plant your lips on.

“baby..i’m close..” he muttered in your ear. you already sensed his orgasm from how much he was twitching and spilling pre-cum all over you.

“oh fuck..!” reiner full on whined, embarrassed at how furiously needy he was from all this. you on the other end, couldn’t have been more aroused by how cute your boyfriend was by a simple pair of panties.

“ah, i love you too reini..” you moaned out, pressing one last smooch against his jaw. “cum all over me baby, please..♡”

reiner’s thrusts grew sloppier until his mind blanked out, a wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over him, distracting him of the mess he was making on you. blobs of thick cum seep through the fabric, spilling onto your stomach and ruining the pair, surely leaving stains afterwards. reiner watched in both disbelief and adoration of what his perversion led him to, almost missing when you shoved your soiled panties compleatly off and guiding the head of his cock against your soaked cunt.

“don’t forget me reini!~” you giggled, watching his eyes go wide as he became flustered after almost straight up neglecting you. “shit, ‘m sorry sweets..” he apologized under his breath. he was criminally adorable, you thought to yourself as you cupped his face and gave him a long peck on the lips. “love you! ♡”

“love you too baby..”

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cypherscript · 7 months ago

Text

Perpeptual

Some of Young justice are teleported/isekai'd during one of their battles to an underdeveloped world barely out of the iron age.

The planet confuses them, perpeptual night but the climate is warm and the flora abundant regardless of the missing sunlight. It has a single yellowy green moon that is stuck in orbit at the same point in the sky as the stars move around it.

Some of the locals have accepted them into their small village, their language is close to spanish; esperanto Wally says. Atleast they can somewhat communicate now. The people are unsettingly human with only slight changes to their body; lighter skin, pointed ears and glowing eyes.

They spend a little over two weeks helping the locals with their building some kind of stage for a festival. A large corridor of metal, spires of green crystal that Connor says make him woozy on top of his already low solar energy from the weeks stranded here and thick braided cord wound around the bases of the spires and inlayed into an intricate pattern winding their way to the corridor of metal.

The chief, Degelinta Stellumo, is happy to say the festival can begin early. When asked about the festival they cant translate much other than it's to thank their god for keeping them safe. About how thousands of years ago the day god Rox tried to consume their world, the night god Phan covered their world in protective night to protect it from Rox's anger.

The team is perplexed as the festivities begin, rhythmic chanting fills the air as one of their young men, that Megan recognizes as Stelo, walks forward dressed in furs and a iron crown upong their head. He steps into the corridor, the crystals glow brightening as he does so, almost alive in the perpeptual moonlight and the chanting getting faster and faster. Duh-duh-duh-duh-da-duh-duh-da-duh-da~.

There is a massive flare of light coming from the corridor, the crystals shatter and fly everywhere and the people cheer. Stelo steps, no floats from the now blackened corridor changed; his body glows in a pale white light, hair once black now pure white while his eyes are toxic green from his previously white and a cloak of stars floats behind him in an invisible wind.

He looks around confused, tired, until his eyes settle on the young superheroes going from Connor's house of El crest to Miss Martians skin to Robins stylized R.

Everyone is shocked as the being speaks to them in echoy but clear english, "You lot are a long ways from home, arent you?"

"Uhm, yes... sir," Tim hesitantly asks hesitantly unsure how to address this being? God? Entity?

"Right, well not to belittle your situation but we're holding up the festivities I'm certain the Sheo'lp people have been working on for some time. Let us celebrate a bit then we can talk about your situation."

"What are you," Megan blurts out, confused, "Stelo stepped into that corridor and his mind is gone and now theres just static."

"I suppose i can answer that easily enough. My name was/is Danny and I dont know what I am anymore. Once the festival ends, Stelo will return to himself. I promise."

The now named Danny stops floating and walks over to the tribespeople, stopping to hug and greet everyone by name and accepting food and drink happily. He cries as he eats the food and drink, thanking the people in esperanto repeatedly as he does so, this goes on for several hours before the partying starts to die down and Danny takes the group over to a dying bonfire.

"Right, I suppose you have questions but I would like some verification."

"Verification?"

"Yup, just need to know if you are who I think you are. It's been forever since I've been around earth but you look familiar.

He points at Miss Martian, "M'gann M'orzz?"

Pointing to kid flash, "Bart? No... Wally West."

Points to Robin, "Damian Wayne."

Points to Superboy, "and that would make you Jon Kent."

They partially confused, partial perturbed that this entity knows some of their names. Tim looks him square in the eyes, studying him, thinking about protocols for what to do when a godlike entity just namedrops your baby brother like its no big deal.

"Its just Robin as I am," Tim says, eyes never leaving Danny's.

"Shit right, apologies I forgot about superhero 101, no names. Its been a while since I had to worry about names, time is blurry these days to me. Now! What about those questions?"

"Can you get us home," Tim asks straight forwardedly. "We've been missing from earth for a few weeks now."

"Sure," he says nonchalantly, surprising the team, "Well yes and no. *I* can get you home but I know something who can but you need to Promise me that you'll follow my directions once you go home. Deal?" He holds out his hand to Tim, who looks at it before shaking it.

"So long as it doesnt endanger those i care about then Deal."

Danny nods before taking a deep breath and holding out a hand, a small crack running through the seam of reality as green light fills the area, from the crack a scroll flies through at high speeds as he catches it. "Hello old friend," he says tiredly, seeming to have dimmed greatly from that stunt.

"A scroll," Connor asks incredulously.

"A map," Danny corrects, "of everything. Take hold of each other before taking the Map, once you do take the map and say where you want to go." He looks at connor briefly, "it wont be a pleasant trip for Jon but it is nessesary for you to get home. Hopefully this trip should innoculate your biology against ecton radiation."

"Wait radiation," wally yelps.

"Its harmless to humans, mostly. Its the fastest way to get back to Earth, youre on the other side of the universe kids. Now, once you're back on earth tell the Map to return home and let go. So take the map, i need to go speak to the chief for a bit. Thank you for being here and letting me help." Danny groans as he slowly gets up and walks over to the chief's tent.

"Do you think he's okay," Megan asks the group as Tim looks the rolled up map over.

Connor watches as Danny leaves, "He's low on energy. Like how Kryptonians are without yellow sunlight."

"Unfortunately we cant focus that right now, grab hands its time to go." They each take the others hand as Tim holds up the map, "take us to the Justice Leagues Watchtower on Earth." The map unfurls as a blue energy grows over the group as they begin floating and the scroll begins to drag them across the sky, a similar crack as before opens before them and swallows them up and the next couple of seconds are filled with blurred visions of vast green voids, purple doors and massive beasts lurking in the distance, the eyes following the team as the fly past.

As quickly as it began its over as a final crack tosses them out at a fast speed into the Justice Leagues cafeteria, scattering on impact and flinging food everywhere as the security systems begin to screech as the team sigh in relief.

"We're home..."

***

"So you mean to tell us you've been trapped on another planet for all this time," Barry asks as the members of young justice sit at the conference table with the other adult members of the justice league.

"Yes sir."

Batman is pensive as hes thinking, "and this entity called you by your names?"

"Mostly, he thought Kon el and I were our younger counterparts."

"Hnn."

Kid Flash leans over to Megan and whispers, "that's bat for I dont like this." Barry cuffs him over the head.

"So should I return the map to Danny?"

"Did someone say my name," a chipper young voice says as he sticks his head through the table, familiar glowing green eyes and white hair who freezes at the sight of the map, "how do you have that? B What's going on?"

"The young justice team has been stranded on a distant planet for several weeks, they just got back with the help of this artifact. Do you recognise it?"

"Course I do, don't know how you have it because its supposed to be with FB in the zone."

"Wait a second," megan exclaims, suddenly recognizing the static she was getting from him "You're Danny! What happened to Stelo?"

"Who?" That takes the wind out of her sails, "oh... i get whats going on here. Classic time travel, don't tell me anything. If you have the map then FB or I gave it to you for a reason. You should send it back."

"Do as he says Robin," Batman says nodding in understanding.

Tim takes the map in his hand, "go back home, uh... map?" He drops it as it unfurls and zooms off through another green crack. "What's all this about?"

"Dunno," Danny says as he leans back as he floats through the table, "hasn't happened yet."

______________________________________________

Authors note:

Little more detail on what happened between the gods in the Sheo'lp's tale. Their sun was going supernova and Phantom in a last ditch effort to save the planet wrapped his being around the planet as the sun exploded around them. His ice core cooling the suns now explosive heat, his body giving them stars to look at and his core to give them light. Their planet is essentially a terrarium surrounded by a critical nuclear reactor. Due to time dialation from earth to there hes been holding back the sun for over a thousands of years by the point YJ arrive.

The festival is a recreation of the fenton portal that they offer one of their own for Phantom to overshadow to partake in their food and drink as thanks. Once he runs out of energy from the crystals his overshadow breaks and he returns to his duty leaving the host with memories to later become the chief and lead their people with their knowledge.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #young justice #kid flash #tim drake #conner kent #megan morse

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