#bats lashes coquettishly

[ghoulphile]

okay the daddy thing you said just HNNNNG the way you would never live down the time you accidentally call him daddy. Or him making you repeat after him "Thank you daddy. See darling? Sounds like music don't it?"

shsisidjsjjsjjdffhdhsjjsd he’s taken aback at first bc using daddy non-sexually is a v normal thing in rural communities so when you accidentally whine it when he’s balls deep inside - and he almost cums then and there? well.

you’re so so sorry and embarrassed and vow to never use it again (much to his disappointment). and that just won’t do. cooper is nothing if not determined so he starts slipping it in to casual conversation.

gets you used to how it sounds, enjoying how flustered it gets you - glassy eyes far away as your mind wanders back to the time you moaned it while creaming around his cock.

then he works you up to calling him it, innocently at first. maybe a teasing, “c’mon now. say thank you, daddy,” when you ask him to hand you something and he keeps it out of reach before you do.

you catch on and when you do, oh he’s in for a treat.

you wait until he’s surrounded by friends, coworkers. saunter over and grab his attention with a gentle hand to the arm. when he looks at you, tucking an arm around you, you smile; a soft pretty little thing with a secret tucked in the corners. bat your eyes and meet his gaze from beneath your lashes.

his attention riveted to the ruby of your lips when you say coquettishly, “hey daddy, they need you in your trailer. something about running through new lines, i think?”

his jaw tics, muscles bunching and clenching as his fingers press into the base of your spine, his bicep tensing around your shoulders. he tilts his body towards you, uses your skirt to hide the twitch of his cock from prying eyes.

“ah, well, can’t keep ‘em waiting then, can i? i’ll catch up with you later, gentlemen.”

you’ve barely stepped through the door before he’s shoving you against the table, his hands two hot brands on your hips and his mouth greedy against yours. traces his tongue along the inner seam of your lips, licks over the back of your teeth before drawing back with a low groan.

his thumb wicks away a smear of lipstick, his eyes, hooded and dark, devouring. “now, that wasn’t very nice was it, sweetheart?”

“i’m awful sorry.” you hum, arms hooking over his shoulders. your fingers twirl around the short hairs at his nape, his frame shuddering against you. “what can i do to make it up to you… daddy?”

“fuck,” he groans, kisses a path down the slope of your neck and scrapes his teeth along your fluttering pulse point, “open up those thighs and keep calling me that.”

[listofwhyyouloveher]

For me its true, and never seemed so right before. Summary: Your long term feelings for Ponyboy manifest on a rainy night after a couple of drinks. Warnings: underage drinking Author's Note: This is inspired by "Something Stupid" By Frank Sinatra AND Nancy Sinatra! Tomorrow's will be Summer Song by Remy Bond for Two-Bit xx Pony’s always been your best friend, and only that. No matter how much you tried, coquettishly batting your lashes at him, or giving him incredibly thoughtful gifts, he would never get the hint that you liked him. It annoyed you a lot, but what annoyed you more was when he met Cherry. Cherry Valance was a girl everyone dreamed of being, the model on the magazine, she had rich and luxurious clothes, beautifully styled hair and seamless makeup, she was everything you weren’t, couldn’t be.  You toyed with your blanket as you laid stretched out on your bed, enveloped in disheartened thoughts. Ponyboy was coming over today because you had beers at your house and Darry never lets him have beer, and you were dreading the action. What if you said something you shouldn’t? You waited for the knock on your door, and when you heard it, you opened the door to see a soaked Pony. “Did you know it was going to rain?” He asked, stepping into your home. You held back a laugh, “I know now.” Pony trailed behind you to your room, eyes settling on his normal chair, the only clean thing in your room. “Cleaned it up for me?” He asked, eyes smiling. “Yeah sure, gotta be a good hostess,” You smiled back, lighting a cancer stick. Pony popped open the cap of a bottle and passed it back and forth between you and him for a while. He cringed as he took a sip. “I’ll never get used to the taste,” You leaned your head back already feeling tipsy. “Well, with Two in your house, I doubt you’d ever get to drink one again,” You joked and Pony laughed. Outside, the rain was pouring and you were struck by a sudden twist of melancholy and loneliness, a feeling that has long been with you since you started pining for Ponyboy. You looked at Pony as he laughed, his eyes full of joy, body relaxed. Your stomach twisted. “Ponyboy, I..” You paused and he looked at you, “I like you a lot.” He quirked his head for a little bit, letting it sink in. Your heart sank further and further during the silence. “Like, love or like?” He asked, voice quiet. “...love,” You said, looking down. You cursed yourself for being so stupid. How could you say that! You saw the way he looked at Cherry when she passed him in the halls. “Well. I wasn’t really expecting that…” He said, and you bit your lip anxiously. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you back!” He rushed, and your eyes brightened. “Really!?” You exclaimed, uncharacteristically giddy. “Yes!” He exclaimed back, the drinks making him feel more relaxed. “So you like me?” You asked, smiling. “I love you,” He said, grabbing your hand.

[stripydottycat]

Will had his lashes done specially in preparation for running away with Hannibal

Hannibal had professed admiration for Alana’s lashes (that BITCH!)

He’d pulled the ‘FBI agent going undercover’ line at Baltimore’s most exclusive lash salon, Madame Lash, in order to get them done asap

but Hannibal hadn’t even MENTIONED them so far

Will hoped they were staying in place, he had been told to keep them dry for 3 hours, and it was pouring down outside

He batted his eyelids - all seemed good so far

Shit, he zoned out, what was Hannibal saying? Oh they couldn’t leave with out him, that sounded good

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING LASHES, Hannibal still had made no comment on them

Oh crap, everything went tits up

Abigail was alive, then probably dead, again

Will knew this could be the end for him too

The lashes provided no protection against the Ripper’s Lino knife (why a Lino knife? Bit downmarket if you think about it really)

Will fluttered his lashes again

Though not coquettishly, more in a ‘possibly dying’ manner

Before Hannibal exited the kitchen and Will’s life, he looked down at poor Will and complimented his lashes as being “like the wings of a raven of Odin”

At least that was what Will thought he said, which was probably a compliment, wasn’t it? He couldn’t really hear properly due to all his blood rapidly leaving his body

Will could now die a happy man

Hannibal then parkoured over the kitchen bench to flee the kitchen blood bath and Baltimore

Will slid slowly into a lying position, trying to hold his intestines in

Fade to black….

Will opened his eyes and blinked

He wasn’t dead!

He was in hospital?

Good start

But how were his lashes?

[demonwebs]

’ i’ll try to look sufficiently meek and oppressed. ’

DRAGON AGE 2 SETNENCE MEME

the drow offers her a sideways glance which could only be categorized as both pointed and skeptical . mostly skeptical . he doesn't think she could look meek if she tried - she's no him , after all . five minutes of batting her lashes coquettishly at people and smiling aimlessly like her head's full of air and happy thoughts as she nods along with the conversation , and he thinks her brain would splatter all over the walls ; granted , the wallpaper was dull and could use a little color , but he doesn't think it's worth the hassle .

❝ right , right ... you're good at that - pretending . being undercover ... not saying fuck every two sentences . ❞ sardonicism nips at his witty tongue , and the drow leans his flank against the wall , looking thoroughly amused by the thought . ❝ no , no , go on ... it's been a long day - i could use a little entertainment . ❞

[shitouttabuck]

several sentence sunday

tagged by @rewritetheending @fangkinkdiaz @buckactuallys @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @eowon thank you pals i extremely especially enjoyed today’s wip snips y’all are feeding me so good

i havent actually written anything New but i tweaked some bits of the word doc here n there and that counts im counting that!!!!

“Sorry,” Buck says, batting his lashes coquettishly again. Eddie’s going to die from sheer insanity like a tortured 19th century artist. “I’m—I think I have glitter in my eye.” Oh. Eddie’s going to die from embarrassment like—well, he can be a pioneer. “Shit,” he says, making his way around the island to inspect Buck’s eye. “Do you wanna wash it out?” “My makeup will run,” Buck pouts. “Can you just blow on it?”

tagging @forthewolves @onward--upward @eddiebabygirldiaz @callaplums @try-set-me-on-fire @anxieteandbiscuits @zahlibeth @housewifebuck @athenagranted if you fancy! 💘

[shimmerbeasts]

batting his lashes coquettishly at mizora, scooting closer. "so……. hypotetically speaking… if you could just snatch the soul of anybody at camp… who would it be? who do you think has the tastiest soul?"

She could not help but peer down at Vhaal as he scooted closer to her, batting his lashes as if he wanted to let her in on a big secret. How adorable! One might almost assume that he wanted to come across as just as charming and seductive as her, showing he could be just as manipulative. It was sickeningly sweet and the temptation to rip the bandage from his eyes and break his assumptions of her boiled underneath her skin. Maybe she could indulge in it, just a little, particularly as she heard his question.

Mizora smirked darkly for as far as she was concerned, Vhaal had not just asked which soul was the tastiest. He had asked whom of Wyll's playmates, she would kill and devour last. Staring at the drow with blood-red eyes, her shadow grew behind her until it towered over them both. Several somethings were moving and slithering about at the outskirts of the shadow, long, serpentine necks and sharply cut snouts full of razor-sharp teeth. Once more, growls and pants filled the air, along with the sensation of being watched by more than just one pair of eyes.

"I can hardly say Wyll's soul", Mizora said, "Given that I have been working on shaping himself. His taste is familiar, though, of course, familiarity does not make it any less delicious. As for the others: Well, it seems you all are so trapped in your own little problems and vices. Every one of you could make for a satisfying meal. Whether that be because deep down you are still a terrified little boy, a girl without any orientation, or you have something to prove or a broken heart. Though, if we have to go with personal preferences, I would have to say Karlach."

"I still believe that one day, she will return to Avernus and into her mistress, Zariel's embrace. But I won't pretend that I had never entertained the thought of getting a taste of her soul. Someone, having been in Avernus, yet without being a lemure, experiences a special kind of trauma. They are never the same after. And though Karlach might try to hide behind an upbeat and lively attitude, her darkness, past traumas and that fear of death lace her soul like a stream of spicy oil. It is positively delectable, just thinking about it."

[divinemissem13]

Time Stands Still 10

@flufftober Day 10: Iced Beverages Fandom: Doctor Who (Donna Noble & Fourteen) 200 words, G Read all the chapters here

---

The Doctor was learning to enjoy the little things in life - things he had never taken the time to notice before - like the subtle changes in human behavior that went along with the changing of the seasons. For instance, as the weather grew warmer, he noticed that more people emerged from coffee shops with iced beverages rather than insulated cups of hot tea or coffee.

Always game for new experiences, the Doctor decided to give it a try. He quickly decided that he preferred his tea hot. But there was something so satisfying about crunching down on the ice cubes. Even if it made his teeth hurt sometimes. Even if it made Donna crazy all of the time.

“Oh, go crunch your ice in the TARDIS, would you?” she would grumble.

“Well I could, but I prefer to be here with you,” the Doctor always replied with an expression of pure innocence, batting his lashes coquettishly.

Donna would huff then, and roll her eyes, but she always relented. Because she knew, better than anyone, that spending time with the Doctor while he relentlessly crunched his ice was a hundred times more valuable than spending time without him in peaceful silence.

[sadisticmedic]

"Hallo, mein liebe dummkopf. You haven't cut me open yet today. I am beginning to wonder if I have lost my touch. Or, have you found someone new to play wizh?" He looked pouty and coy as he put a finger to his pursed lips coquettishly. Slinking closer, he batted his lashes at Wolfgang. "Or... should I put you on zhe table and see what you are made of?"

He sneered slightly. Then smirked at the others words as he looked down at him." I don't remember giving zu permission to call me 'liebe Dummkopf'." His head cocking to the side as he furrowed his brow." Zu are more of a bitch zen I thought." He laughed, his lisp from his scar sharing more gum as he smiled." Vorried zu're german shepherd is getting into trouble?"

[bloodtwin]

&&.┆THE BAG OF BONES ☠️ INBOX.  

@estarion ❛ @bloodyarn ❜ sent: ( coquettishly bats her lashes and twirls a strand of pale pink hair around her finger. ) "if i died, would you keep all my bones? would you nibble on them from time to time?"

──────────────────────────────

❝ EXCUSE ME ？！❞

Mouth agape, eyes nearly popping out of his head, he stares in bewilderment for a moment. Did she just ask something about her bones ？ Nibbling on her bones ？？ Well, The Idea Certainly Appeals To Him. Surely, he misheard her.

[ INSIGHT: 17 + 1 = 18 . . . SUCCESS  ！Even if he ignored the jarring & unsettling question, Puck can tell there is off about Babette's mannerisms. The way she holds herself. It isn't right. ]

Something is definitely wrong. Now, head cocking to the side, Puck squints at the woman. He leans forward, chin slightly lifted as he sniffs at her like a dog. His nose wrinkles immediately.

❝ Why Do You Smell Like Astarion, Babette. ❞

[demonwebs]

❝ ... well ? are you just going to stand there eyeing me suspiciously all night ? come now , ❞ the drow leans closer , if only a touch , batting those cinnamon lashes at her coquettishly at her as his honed gaze twinkles with a treacherous kind of docility . it seems as though he wants adulation . ❝ ... don't i deserve a pat on the head at least ? ❞

@caniteblood liked for a starter .

[shimmerbeasts]

cue the wounded puppy pout . his greedy fingers recoil , one by one , curling back into his palm with an eerie kind of grace , something vaguely inhuman and animalistic in the way he moves .

❝ i was just admiring it , don't be so grouhcy ... ❞ doubtful . he has a tendency to touch stuff he shouldn't . framing himself as the innocent victim , the drow pushes his elbow against the flat surface , leaning closer , the soft of his palm cushioning against his chin . ❝ ... please ? ❞ lashes bat coquettishly , and the softness which rounds in his mouth suggests he might as well be very used to getting what he wants with that simple , tiny littleword . ❝ the sounds you make are so lovely ... what i must i do to persuade you , mmm? ❞

Even though Felicitas had been raised a serf and thus was lower in the pecking order in drow culture, it was the ugly truth that even the lowest-ranking female serf would be above the highest-ranking drow male. The only reason the few male specimens of House Baenra could treat her as badly as the females was the fact that Minthara had drilled obedience into her head. Felicitas was to entertain. That was her sole purpose as a serf in this house.

"If you admired it", Felicitas chastised Vhaal, suddenly speaking with a bit more authority, though it was rather underplayed by her colourful bard's attire, "Then follow stripper rules: Look, but don't touch."

The drow gave a soft tsking sound, clearly not falling for Vhaal's attempts to make himself appear as an innocent, little baby boy. She had seen drow children beat their own siblings to death with rocks. Innocence might as well not exist in her culture. So this attempt to appeal to her was more duplicitous than anything else.

Though two could play this game. If Vhaal was so determined to get her to play him something on her flute, maybe she should indeed ask for payment. Though not in coin. They were all already scraping by, even with Felicitas spontaneously beginning to play in large crowds to earn them the additional gold pieces or two. No, Felicitas decided to have a bit of fun with Vhaal. Besides, it was washing day tomorrow. So why not kill two birds with one stone?

"Fine", Felicitas said, "I will play you a song of your choice, Vhaal. I might even dig up some of the songs I played at banquets for the entertainment of my house." She raised a finger. "But in exchange, you wash my part of the laundry during washing day. Do we have a deal?" She extended her hand towards the other drow.

@demonwebs cont. from here.

[greycaelum]

First request scenario!

Number 3 (˶≧ᴗ≦)

I apologize for inconvenience but I couldn't help but get mush over Satoru's event and forgot the request was closed lmao 🤣🤣💗💗💙

- Lexi 💜

[ Gentle Affection Collections ]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader [Gentle Affection Collections]

Request 3 [ List is Here ]

—smiling while kissing

Notes & Warning: domestic fluff, Satoru's inner thoughts, a pinch of angst, slightly suggestive description, Word Count: 1k

"Finally had time to watch the JJK 0 Movie and I cried the first second it played in the big screen. Satoru is simply ✨divine✨ Hope you guys enjoy this, thanks for joining Sunshine!" —Grey,

Take My Breath Away

The way his shirt hang loosely on your body, covering almost to your knees. 5:30 mornings of you, barefooted in his kitchen sipping on a cup of strong coffee while you make a cappuccino for him, knowing he needs sugar to jostle his nerves awake.

When a strand of your hair strayed from the ponytail strongly urge him to kiss your nape and redo your ponytail. And the days when you try to fit in those skinny jeans while he watch you drowsily in the warmth of the bed you shared. Trying to pull the zipper and ask him to hook your bra when you're rushing not to get late.

Routines never fitted his personality. His veins constantly search for curiosity and new things. But his day is not complete without holding your hand and kissing the back of your finger.

The way you curl on the bed in arguments while he brings the blanket to cover you from the cold and kiss you silently, hoping that tomorrow will be better.

When your eyes water, it never failed to make his heart clench painfully. Guilt and frustration for making tears stain your cheeks.

Little by little the oath of never letting anyone reach beyond his Infinity is chipping away every time your fingers reach for him or when you sleep by his side, laying your head on his chest to listen on the way his heart beats until it lulls you to sleep.

It has become a norm to search for your eyes when he laughs. To watch you smile and contented by his side. To listen in your voice when you act coquettishly for his attention and doting.

The patience you have when he can't hold himself together. But little did you know he's scared the moment you've had enough of the time he's missing, the times his promises are broken. And the reality that he can never give you those normal nights of lazy cuddles because he's needed in three locations at the same time.

He's not stupid to be blind that it's taxing to you. Emotionally taxing. Even if he grew with the sole purpose of becoming the strongest where emotions will only hinder his judgement he could at least know the reason why no one has ever reached beyond his Infinity.

Because he a complicated person to be with.

Cold hands wrap around his waist, palms finding their way to feel the ridges of his abdomen as he hum at the softness pressed against his back.

"Hey," a bit hoarse, you greeted him.

"Did you sleepwalk 'til here?" Satoru laughed seeing his shirt askew, exposing a generous view of your shoulder blades and covering just above your knees.

"Thought you already left."

Satoru snorted at the idea.

"Told you we'd have a lazy morning today, cuddles for lunch and—" Satoru turned around and met your drowsy eyes. "—whatcha think for tonight Baby?"

You rolled your eyes and peek on the sizzling pan of egg, bacons and ham.

"Let's go shopping." You batted your lashes, but laugh when he pout, not the answer he expected. Nonetheless he nod and press his lips unto your temples.

"I'm wearing that dress you bought for me." You giggled.

Oh great, of all the times you could, you really had to test his sanity in public.

"I'll go take a shower, I love you." You tried to withdraw from his arms but Satoru stood completely steeled and held you tightly. His eyes search for yours.

He can't let your I love yous pass. You don't usually say it. He knows because he notices the days when you say those words to him. And everytime those sweet words fall past your lips he cherishes them so much.

"I love you too Baby," Satoru whispered, nuzzling the bridge of your nose with the tip of his nose.

A smile curved in your lips and close your eyes to bask in the bliss of a rare morning embrace. He would do anything in his jurisdiction to be the only person you say those words to. Your delights and frustrations, your crazy and your mess.

He never dreamed of anything. Apprehensive that love would tangle his already twisted life. Then you came along. He doesn't know know if his personal theory of love being the most twisted curse of all—is it really a blessing or a curse.

When words aren't enough to tell, tears fell. And so it goes, when it's hard to explain how his heart pounds because of you, perhaps kissing you will show how much you mean to him.

Soft lips take you gently as you pliantly let Satoru in your mouth in sweet sighs and low grunts. Drunk in the daze of slow and delicate kisses that held you both in equal adoration and desire. You easily melted and clutch his arms for support.

"Satoru," you whined, leaning your forehead against his. The pad of your fingers lightly brush the tingling sensation left from his kisses. A light bulb clicked in your mind, and by your tiptoes you pulled him down.

Slanting your swollen lips over Satoru's and eagerly nibbled his lower lips, sucking them until you feel them soft and tender while Satoru can do nothing but accept your kiss. Smiling at your desperate attempt to punish him in a way he can barely call it as one.

"You take my breath away," Satoru said in genuine affection, smiling between gasps, pressing on more chaste kiss over your lips. "Do something about it Baby." He hoisted you up his waist and brought you to the direction of the bathroom.

—GreyCaelum,

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gumidreams @tender-rosiey

[demonwebs]

🍾 + hypothetically, if i had the means to, i don't know. . . control the weather for a time, what would you want? ( this isn't an attempt to apologize at all for the sunlight )

Send 🍾 + a question for my muse to answer your question while drunk.

❝ hypothetically ... ❞ he steals the word from her tongue and lets it roll around his teeth with a pensive hum . ❝ hypothetically ... i'd like you to block out this awful , scorching sun , and give me shade , and darkness , and respite ... ❞ he sighs softly , his head falling into her lap . ❝ and then ... my people could crawl to the surface and hunt people for sport , and after we've had our fun , tear open the very fabric of this world to shreds , summoning portals everywhere to call forth the abyss , so that the spider queen may rise and feast on the souls of the rivvil who plague these streets as they scream and scurry , and she devours the world . ❞ a beat of silence ensues , and he bats those dark lashes up at the cleric coquettishly . ❝ of course , i would settle for a little rain ... ❞

[irrelevantwriter]

Scent

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW, Mild sexual themes

Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use, mild smut (heavy petting), sitting in Fezco’s lap *heart eyes mf*

Word Count: 1242

Summary: A party with Fezco

A/N: Here’s another fic featuring our favorite local dealer with the sparkly eyes. I have one more planned after this and that has full on smut so prepare yourselves. Until then, check out the next part in my Five Senses Series. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Check out my Fezco series here.

Disclaimer: Characters are of age in my fics. Reader and Fezco are in their early twenties.

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Fez inhaled off the blunt between his fingertips, watching from afar as bodies gyrated on the makeshift dance floor. He sat in an oversized armchair in the living room, music pounding as he conducted his usual business.

Even amongst all the overstimulation, he could smell you. Partly because your scent always clung to him. And partly because he was just that attuned to you. A house full of people or not.

He slipped the cash he’d just collected into his pocket and searched for you. He could feel you around. Smell the sweet scent of your perfume that now trapped him. It lingered, even overpowering the scent of marajuana that followed him everywhere.

He licked his lips when he saw a flash of you through the crowd. You were making your way over, your figure hugged in a tight black top and skirt. You had a blue jean jacket hanging precariously from your arms, your legs surprisingly steady in the heels you wore. He could tell you’d had a few drinks by the way your lashes batted at him. You sent him a flirty smile as you got closer, a red solo cup clutched in your hand.

“Hi,” you greeted coquettishly, eyeing him with desire.

Fez took another hit off the blunt and blew the smoke out, moving his arms out of the way to make room for you. You caught the subtle signal and settled into his lap, sitting sideways so that your thighs stayed pressed together. His hands immediately went to the exposed skin your skirt afforded him, feeling you shiver in response.

You plucked the blunt from his lips and took a pull, letting the smoke sit in your lungs for a long time before exhaling. Your made-up eyes were closed as you did, relishing the high that would soon kick in.

Fez counted himself lucky. He found a partner who saw all of him and didn’t run away scared. Saw all the bad that came with the good and stayed. You were a down ass bitch. You’d seen your own fair share of bad shit in this world, and despite all of that you brought light to any room you were in. And maybe because he knew you could hold your own, that you had to before, he still protected you. He still wanted to be able to do that. And you let him.

“Having fun?” he asked, eyebrow arched as you took another long hit off the blunt.

You opened your eyes and smiled, lips glossy from whatever you’d put on them. His eyes unabashedly focused on them.

“Mmmm…” you hummed back in response, your body snuggling closer to his warmth.

He caught the eye of a guy trying to approach, obviously interested in buying, but Fez waved him off. He didn’t do deals with you around. Out of respect.

“You ready to go home?”

You nuzzled your face into his neck, passing the blunt back to him. You let out a soft sigh, seemingly content to stay there the rest of the night.

“Whenever you are, baby.”

Fez had planned on staying at least another hour to make more money, but he could cut out early. He didn’t do it often. And if you were ready to end the night, he wanted to get you home and in bed. Somewhere safe.

“You tired?” he asked, his fingertips tracing an invisible design on your thigh.

You shifted, letting your lips brush against his earlobe, causing him to be the one to shiver.

“No,” you breathily replied.

Fez knew that tone. He knew what it meant and it wasn’t sleeping.

“For real?” he questioned, eyeing you with equal parts hunger and amusement.

You nodded, letting your hand cover his over your thigh and pushing it upwards towards the hem of your skirt. You leant forward and grazed your lips over his neck softly, almost teasingly.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Fez nodded, getting lost in your kisses. He briefly surveyed the room, seeing everyone in their own little world. He licked his lips as your ass pressed against his body, brushing his lap with purpose.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” you quietly confessed, fingers innocently playing with the chains around his neck.

His grip on your thigh tightened at your admission. He released a breath, eyes now zeroing in on the small space between your thighs. He thought about slipping his hand into that space and what he would feel. Would you be wet already? Would you beg him to get you off in the middle of the party?

Each possible answer was better than the one before it. Your words ignited him, though outwardly he was still the same calm and collected Fez. But now he had a hard dick.

“What you tryin’ to do?” he ventured to ask, fingers bravely testing the waters by skimming your inner thigh.

He looked down at you as you bit your lip, another tease.

“Anything you want.”

Fez smirked at your words. Impressed by your wanton spirit. He liked it. It didn’t happen often. You were usually too aware of other people. Too aware that his services were constantly in demand at places like this. But sometimes, like tonight, you took what you wanted.

“S’like that?” he threw back, letting his gaze slowly roam over you. He took in every curve. Every dip and slope. He had it all memorized.

You nodded, squeezing your thighs together when his hand dared to inch closer to your bare sex. The action made you gasp.

“Take me home, Fezco,” you demanded softly, grabbing his hand from your skirt and moving it to your ass.

He was amused by your reaction. Amused by your sudden shyness. But he let you do as you pleased, nodding as he ashed out the blunt, the end nearly gone.

“You gonna have to give me a minute.” He gestured to his lap, knowing you could feel his excitement beneath you.

You smiled mischievously, seemingly proud of yourself. With his help you stood up and adjusted your skirt, Fez’s eyes drawn to the movement.

“I’m just gonna run to the bathroom.”

He nodded, fixing his sweater over his lap. It wouldn’t take him long to compose himself. He pulled his phone out and shot a message to Ash, letting him know he was leaving. Ash had decided to stay home, working on some other business. Parties were small time compared to the type of shit they had in the works.

Fez made a few more sells in the time you were gone. Your scent never left him, despite your absence. Once you were back at his side he led you outside and to the car. He’d parked along the street, knowing it’d be an easier get away in case shit went left.

He went to open your door for you when you stopped him, instead taking his hand and pulling him to the backseat.

“Here?”

You giggled as you opened the door, sliding in effortlessly. Fez took a look around, seeing nothing but the night. He followed your scent into the backseat. He let it take him away as the windows fogged and the frame rocked.

He was at your mercy and he didn’t even think you realized it. The power you had scared him. And yet he’d realized a long time ago that he’d follow you anywhere. Even if it was just your scent in the wind.

[erineverly]

“yeah, your life’s pretty interesting as it is, even without me adding on to the fun. speaking of interesting parts of your life, how’s work? everything okay with the new guy?” steven’s replacement. she keeps forgetting his name and feels bad because it can come off as rude although there’s not ounce of malice or resentment in her heart. a lot has happened in the past few months and getting to know the new drummer simply hasn’t been her priority. “well, now i’m even more starstruck,” she admits truthfully, switching seats and once again finding herself on the ledge of the tub, just to be closer to him. she doesn’t even have to try and pretend to be his biggest fan because she is. all she has to do is get a little more dramatic than usual, and so she gazes at him as if he hung the stars, smiling coquettishly and batting her lashes. “axl rose… not even elvis can compete with axl so i don’t know what disappointment you’re talking about. now, can i get a kiss and an autograph?” she inquires with a smile, tilting her head slightly and tapping her cheek with a fingertip, waiting for her kiss. “it better work out this time. i don’t want to go through life without you. i would be so miserable. i mean, where would i find another guy who’d be willing to build blanket forts with me, right? you’re one in a million and i just can’t lose you.” she knows that therapy is no walk in the park, but she also knows that it’s worth it. this is their last chance to make things right and they have to do everything in their power to succeed. “i’m proud of us, but i’m also angry at myself for not coming to this conclusion sooner.” it took losing everything for her to finally see that she needs to grow up and do something about her life. 

she wants to keep a straight face and can’t help but giggle at his comment about men who rule the hollywood scene. it’s been a while since someone dropped the f bomb in her presence, or even said something so straight-forward and bold, and so of course it serves to amuse her. “right? it’s so stereotypical how brunettes can be smart but not gorgeous and blondes can be gorgeous but not smart. so, unless you’re a tan, bikini-clad barbie with long, blonde hair, you’ll probably never get cast as the main character, but you might land the role of her less important friend,” she sighs, but her smile only continues to grow. blushing upon hearing how he loves to run his fingers through dark hair and how that turns him on, she picks one of her ringlets and uses the very tip of it to playfully tickle his cheek. “yeah, but… well, i just want you to sit back and relax tonight because you deserve it, baby.” she shrugs as if to say it’s no big deal and tickles his nose next. “maybe they don’t, but i’m not your ordinary valley girl. don’t you forget that,” she muses with a laugh, blaming him for her versatile vocabulary. “i was never a full-blooded californian to begin with, you know? i’m basically just an imposter.” she leans in as if it was some sort of secret, pressing a finger to her lips and making a shh sound. “besides, i married an indiana boy. guess his way of speaking might be rubbing off on me.” she hopes to catch him by surprise, discreetly dipping her right hand in water, scooping some up and then… splashing his face. giggling like a mischievous little girl, she quickly straightens up and lifts her hands in protest before he can even react. “can’t splash me back! don’t splash me! i just changed!” and she really likes the shirt she’s wearing so she hopes he’ll let it go with no retaliation. “you think so? thanks, because i surely feel cute.” she beams at him, standing up just to do a little twirl and present her new outfit in its full glory. she’s just glad she actually put on cute and decent underwear, just regular pink panties, and not granny undies or something. “what?! axl! ew. don’t say things like that, you gross thing,” she shrieks and shakes her head, putting on her best repulsed face. “bad boy. you’re a bad boy, axl,” she playfully scolds him as if he were a dog, wagging a finger in his face. “you want me to splash you again? huh? because i will. that’s what happens to bad boys who use dirty words and don’t wash their privates themselves.” she giggles and wonders if he has any idea just how much she’s missed banters like this.

“yeah, it could use a little boring.” the singer agrees, chuckling at that. “no, i’m just axl. sorry to disappoint.” he playfully smiles, thinking he’s not as cool as elvis. “it’s something we can do together. couples therapy and solo therapy to work on our inner troubles that’s poisoning our relationship. and i’m happy you’re coming to that conclusion, happy i’m coming to that conclusion. it really might work out this time.” he says hopefully, it truly does instill hope into his heart. “fuck those assholes. dark haired beauties are fucking sexy. blonde hair is pretty, but it ain’t every fuckin’ thing. there’s somethin’ beautiful about all hair types. but to portray like dark hair isn’t sexy…is fucking idiotic. it’s sexier and more alluring to me than blonde hair. i love running my fingers through dark hair, it has a mysterious way to it and turns me on. but maybe that’s just cause you have brown hair.” shrugging, he could he biased, but he really does have attraction to brunettes. “yeah, you could have waited.” for him to help her put the sheets on, since it is difficult and a lot of work. “when did you start sayin ain’t? thought valley girls didn’t say words like that.” brows perk, opening his eyes and looking over at her once she comes back in. “oh, that’s cute.” he smirks at her in the shirt of his and no shorts this time, just all legs he’s admiring as he looks them over. “no, i don’t mind exchanging all those fluids. cause i don’t really notice any spit we exchange when we kiss. and your body fluids turn me on when it gets on me. my spit in the tub? don’t. —no, i didn’t. i was gonna see if you wanted to wash my dick and ass for me.” he answers, trying to hold back a laugh.

[liquorisce]

him & i

rating: E / nsfw

pairing: eren x mikasa | read on ao3

summary: Eren and his crew have planned the perfect heist. Only problem is- Mikasa is high out of her fucking mind. And horny. Mostly horny.

...

He tips up her chin, his gaze falling down her neck, skimming the tops of her bare breasts. She smiles at him sweetly. “Are you high, baby?”

“Nope.” She bats her lashes at him almost coquettishly.

“Open your mouth.” Rolling her eyes, she listens to him. Parts her lips, and touches her tongue to the top of her mouth so he can see the slow-dissolving tab under her tongue.

Brat.

cw: gunplay, kinda ooc, drug use

There’s a map of the casino on the table, and five of his men surround him as he pores over it. “Should be fairly simple,” he tells them. “Unless Zeke shows up.” 

“We’ll be fine, we know the routes, we should be able to do it without engaging in gunfire,” Jean says to the group, but it sounds more like a reassurance to himself than anybody else. 

There are some nods, some snickers, some handing around of cartridges. Eren looks over at Mikasa, sitting at the end of the table, long, smooth legs stretched out onto the chair in front of her. She surveys her nails absentmindedly. 

“Get your asses moving,” he tells the other guys roughly. “I’ll meet you at the casino. How we discussed.” 

They nod and leave, the notion of obedience and hierarchy generally respected amongst men who tried to organize hits of this magnitude. But the one woman in his squad seemed to have missed the entire briefing. 

“Not coming with us, Mikasa?” 

Sparkling grey eyes snap up at him. “Of course, I’m coming with you, Eren. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She sounds almost giddy, like she was talking about a field trip to Candyland instead of an armed visit to Sina’s wealthiest casino.  

He tips up her chin, his gaze falling down her neck, skimming the tops of her bare breasts over her generous cleavage. She smiles at him sweetly. “Are you high, baby?” 

“Nope.” She bats her lashes at him almost coquettishly. 

“Open your mouth.” Rolling her eyes, she listens to him. Parts her lips, and touches her tongue to the top of her mouth so he can see the slow-dissolving tab under her tongue. 

Summoning all the patience he can, his fingers thread into the soft baby hairs at the back of her neck. Swiftly, he yanks on them, tipping her head back, so she pays attention to what he says. “You don’t lie to me, sweetheart. Okay?”

She pouts. Brat. “Okay, Eren.” 

He liked it when she listened to him. Said yes, okay, and made his wishes come true like some sort of genie. Mikasa wasn’t very good at it. But when she was sober enough, she tried her best. 

“Now come on, grab your gun, and let’s go.” 

She gets up gracefully, long, lithe legs disappearing into black-heeled boots. “Don’t need them,” she says cheekily. “Got my knives.” She lifts her short, white denim dress high up her thighs, displaying tight black straps along her smooth skin, a set of four short knives sheathed carefully. “See?”

And because she’s a tempting fucking minx, she lifts it high enough until she’s sure he can see the mound of the pretty pink lace panties she wears underneath. 

“Cute,” he says gruffly. Unable to help himself, he slips a hand underneath her dress, giving her plush ass a squeeze. “Now get moving.” 

He runs her over the plan again when they’re in the elevator, buttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up, tying up the loose ends of his man-bun. “You got it?” he asks, before his gaze catches his reflection in the elevator mirror. Next to him, she watches the way his fingers move, long and elegant as he unbuttons his top button. “... Mikasa.” 

Her eyes flicker, obviously not paying attention to Eren's words, a dark heat burning within them. Subconsciously, she runs her tongue over her lower lip. “I got it, Eren.” 

He sighs as he gets into his Porsche. Finally, a moment to take out his ridiculously expensive sports car without having it stick out like a sore thumb. Not that he cared. If Jean were here, he’d tell him that this was a bad idea. That when this empty haze took over Mikasa, she was nothing more than a risk. 

But Jean wasn’t here. Mikasa was his best fighter. She didn’t look it— small, despite her strength, toned. He tore his gaze away from her body as she strapped herself in with her seatbelt. Actually, Mikasa was his best girl. 

And maybe he just liked how fucking good she looked next to him in his passenger seat. 

When they reach the casino, queued up to enter on what looked like an extremely busy night, he tells her, “... Stay by my side, okay?” Even though she didn’t need to. But he liked it. Liked walking into the room with the prettiest girl in the room on his arm. 

“You look tense, Eren,” she tells him, concerned. She places a hand on his thigh. “You want some candy?” She lifts her tongue again to show him what she means. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

He turns to look at her, a small grin curving up the side of his handsome mouth. He places a hand over hers, squeezing her dainty fingers. “Give me a kiss, baby.” 

She leans over and plants one on him, open-mouthed and wet, fingers warm against the side of his neck, as she pulls him in. “You’re all the distraction I can handle, Mikasa,” he murmurs, nipping her lower lip harshly before he lets her pull back. He doesn’t mind the indulgence of some acid once in a while, but tonight he needed his head screwed on straight. That one kiss from her was temptation enough. Made him consider parking in the garage, and parking the rest of their plans too, just so he could hike up that tiny dress of hers and seat her on his lap and on his dick. 

She grins at him, lips pink and swollen, like she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry, Eren. When we’re inside, I’ll make sure to distract the other side.” And she winks. 

He purses his lip in displeasure, as he parks. When he unbuckles his seat belt, she slides onto his lap smoothly, her back pressing against the horn slightly. Her dress hikes up high on her thighs, as she seats herself across him, lace panties brushing against his crotch. 

His erection, which was slow-building since earlier that evening, sprung to life. Despite the fact that his men were probably waiting for him upstairs, he allowed himself a small indulgence, one hand caressing her thighs, the other running along her back. His voice low, he brings his mouth up to her ear, “... Don’t slut around up there, sweetheart.” It’s a warning, but it’s playful, embers of jealousy roughening his tone. “Don’t need you to distract them like that.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” she smiles against his cheek. “You always need me, Eren.” 

…

And she’s right. Later, when they’ve made their way inside, without stalling, Eren calling upon every ounce of restraint he had to not unbutton his jeans, not pull her panties to the side and thrust himself inside her, he admits he really did need her to distract anyone who looked at them suspiciously. 

See, as much as he liked flaunting her off on his hip, Mikasa was good at what she does. Doe-eyed and gorgeous, giggling when she needed to and sounding innocent when she thought the man in front of her would like it. Now she stood with Porco at the bar, sipping champagne that he’d obviously bought her, the fucker’s eyes blatantly roaming the smooth skin she showed off. 

As much as his palms itched to pull out his gun and shoot the back of his head, Porco was head of security, and the fact that he was distracted made the rest of their jobs significantly easier. 

Armin’s algorithm worked like a charm— as he knew it would, the dude was a genius— and Connie’s maps were spot on. But after they gathered the briefcases full of cash, as they shut the last door, they messed up. It was probably because it was simply too good to be true, no guards at the walkway, their timing perfect just as they had discussed. But either his hand fucking slipped or it was the work of a higher power, but the alarm was triggered. It was a single beep, loud and clear but not loud enough to alert the whole building. “Zeke knows,” Connie whispers into his walkie-talkie. “He definitely fucking knows.” 

“Idiots,” Eren mutters under his breath. “Jean,” he instructs, “Cover me.” Jean was probably cursing him out at this moment, because he had agonized over every fucking detail to make sure this would be as close as possible to a picture-perfect heist. 

He sees a guard to his right and shoots, hitting him right in the arm, and sending him to his knees. Well, maybe it wasn’t picture-perfect without a little blood. 

“Gotta deal with Porco,” Jean’s voice comes through the static. “Sorry.” Motherfucker. 

“Shoot him in the fucking head,” Eren grits out, ignoring the fact that it was probably his personal feelings speaking at the moment.

Connie and Armin are thankfully unharmed, even though they are scared out of their wits and waving their guns around cartoonishly. Three guards surround them, yelling at them to hand over the briefcases so that no harm would be done. It was nice of them, Eren supposes. He shoots them without remorse, hitting two of them right in the back, a fountain of blood splurting out onto their expensive suits. 

The third one takes a minute to orient himself before he takes aim at Eren. “Lay down your gun and no one—” 

He could barely finish the sentence before a knife whizzed past Eren’s ear. A stream of blood splurted out of the guard’s neck, before he warbled his last words and slumped to the ground.

Eren groans as he sees Mikasa sashay across to the guard’s body, pulling out the knife from his neck. She looks far too relaxed for the position they’re in. 

“He didn’t say anything about knives.” She grins at him. “Ugh so messy,” she complains, as the blood continues to spurt out of him, and sprays onto her white dress. 

He chuckles as he walks toward her. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear a white dress to a heist, baby.” 

“I’m just tryin’ to look cute for you, Eren—” 

Before she can register it, Eren draws his gun, firing at one of the guards who had tried to get up and take aim at Mikasa. “Oof,” she mutters, “he didn’t have to be so persistent.” 

He rolls his eyes at her. She was a sight to see— a pretty pixie, splattered in blood, with a giddy, drug-induced haze still burning in her eyes. “You’re not hurt, right?” He gives her a once-over just to be sure. 

“No one can hurt me, Eren,” she says cheerfully. “Not when I have you looking out for me.” 

His gaze hardens. “When we get home, I’m gonna—” 

“I am right fucking here,” Armin says, rubbing his ears. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, and you guys can flirt later.” 

…

The ride home after a successful heist was always thrilling. Partly because they always gave chase but Eren was excellent at losing them. Feels even better when the other boys were in another car and it was only him and Mikasa and she tells him, “... You lost them, babe,” with a pretty smile. “Let’s celebrate.” 

And before he can say anything about it, she undoes his zipper, and extracts him out of his boxers smoothly. He groans as her tongue laves the length of him. “Couldn’t wait until we got home?” 

Lips parting, she slips his tip into her mouth, pumping him at the base and reviving his arousal. She eases him into her throat, all the way down until she comes up for air with a pop. “Nope.” Saliva glistens on her lips as she looks at him fetchingly. “Felt like you’ve been waiting so long already…”

He can feel himself pulse in her mouth as they take the turn towards his apartment. “Yeah,” he says, hoarsely. “I have.” And with one hand on the wheel, he uses the other to guide her head back down onto his dick. 

…

Somehow he managed to make it all the way back home without blowing his load in her mouth. There were moments when he wasn’t sure, when the feeling of her lush mouth around his cock was just enough on top of the adrenaline, to tip him over the edge. Every time his eyes slanted to the side to see her bent over her seat, ass in the air, as she blew him, it just made him harder. Especially when her dress rode up so hard, he could see the curves of her ass peeking from underneath it. 

He was grateful the road was empty, otherwise, he’d have had to shoot anybody who got to see the view from Mikasa’s window. 

It feels like a herculean effort, especially when Mikasa is like this— jaw-droppingly gorgeous, flirty, and high out of her fucking brains. She’s so damn clingy, hands straying all over him, trailing over his chest, kissing his neck, chest pressed against his arm. His jeans are still undone, and his erection is raging, raging at him to make her finish the job she started.

So when they enter his apartment, he has her pinned against the wall before she can even kick her shoes off. His lips are bruising, nipping at her mouth for her to open for him, tongue sweeping across her teeth to feel her. She tastes of cock, of his arousal, and he enjoys it. Likes the taste of himself off of her. 

“You were reckless today, sweetheart,” he murmurs into her mouth. As if they weren’t reckless every time they broke the law. But he preferred Mikasa sober for the heists— it was one less thing he had to worry about. Even if he thoroughly enjoys how… loose, she gets when she’s high. The button that held her left strap together comes undone, the strap falling low on her shoulder. He nips her bare skin harshly. “You’re covered with blood.” 

She pulls him closer by his shirt, moaning into his mouth as he grinds his erection against her clothed cunt. “So are you.” And then, lower, flirtatiously, “... I like it.” 

He lifts her up, strong, milky thighs closing around his hips. “Could’ve been your blood, Mikasa,” he says dangerously. “You need to be more careful.” He squeezes her ass tightly before giving it a light slap. 

“But you wouldn’t let that happen,” she says brazenly. “You’d shoot anyone who tries to hurt me.” She watches him through heavy-lidded eyes. “I saw you do it.” 

He shakes his head, a small smirk spreading on his lips. “So sure of it, huh…” Kissing her softly on the lips, his hand reaches for his gun. “Killed someone today for you, Mikasa.” 

The front of his gun slips between her legs, the barrel brushing against her heat. “All because you were careless.” Her eyes widen when she feels the metal against her. She licks her lip subconsciously. “Decided to get fucking high just before a job.” 

Yanking on her hair, he forces her gaze up to meet his. “Need to know you’re serious, baby.” He could see the slightest tendril of fear uncoiling within her. “Need to know you’ll have my back on the job.” 

He can feel her hips unwinding against his gun, rubbing, her eager cunt desperate for friction. She whines when he pulls it away from her. “See, you’re not paying attention to me, Mikasa.” 

She huffs in frustration, pupils blown with arousal. “I had your back today, Eren. That guy was gonna shoot you but I got him—” 

“And almost got shot in the process.” He rests his gun against her cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I can’t have that.” 

Maybe he was finally firm enough, or maybe she was desperate enough that she was willing to say what he wanted to hear; but she whimpers, “I’m sorry, Eren.” 

“I’m thinking you deserve a punishment, sweetheart.” He kisses her on the nose sweetly. 

“That’s not fair, Ere—” 

“Sssh,” he whispers, smoothening her hair. “I decide what’s fair.”

Teary-eyed, she looks at him pleadingly. “What do I have to do?” 

He regards her for a moment, almost feeling bad for her. Almost gives into her pretty tears. It was easy to do, but he almost equally enjoyed teasing her and drawing out her desperation. “Promise you won’t be reckless, next time?”

She nods eagerly. Maybe even sincerely, he thinks. “Promise me, baby. Use your words.” But before she speaks, he brings the barrel up to her mouth, cold metal tracing her lower lip. 

He can feel her shiver around him. “I promise I won’t be reckless, Eren.” 

“Hmm.” His gaze drops to her mouth. “Promise you won’t get high on a job?” 

“I prom—” The cold barrel slips into her mouth, his eyes darkening as her lips form an O around it. “Go on, baby, say it.” 

He looks at her with a cruel affection as she tries to get the words, out, sloppy and barely coherent. He can feel her body taut, her thighs tightening around him. And because he’s just a little bit mad he says, “Promise you won’t slut around with the staff next time?” 

“Nnghh,” she mumbles, shaking her head, swearing to him with her pretty eyes that she didn’t do that. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Mikasa,” he warns, and he shoves the barrel deeper, watching it sink into her mouth, taking in the way she breathes to accommodate it. She was so pretty with her mouth full like that, stuffed, making stupid noises because she couldn’t speak. It was cute… despite his irrational anger. 

And what was even cuter was the way she writhed against him, trying to rub against him, an obvious discomfort growing between her legs. Pressing her against the wall, he uses his other hand to thumb at the wet spot on her lace panties. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart, just promise me…” 

He presses the gun even deeper, rewarded with a small choking noise from the back of her throat. A tear slipping down her cheek, she babbles around the thick cylinder, making him promises that he couldn’t really understand but that her eyes conveyed with desperation. 

She coughs as he pulls it out of her mouth, a string of saliva hanging on between her lips and the gun. He strokes her hair with his free hand as he moves the gun between her legs. 

“So desperate,” he tells her softly. “Promised me the world, just to feel good. Isn’t that right?” 

“I meant it, Eren,” she hiccups softly. 

“Maybe.” With the front tip, he pushes her panties to the side. “Or maybe you did it because you just wanna be filled up.” And without warning, he pushes the barrel into her opening, cool metal grazing against her soft, wet heat. 

She gasps, her entire body shuddering as he penetrates her, watching the gun slip inside of her pussy. Clinging onto his shoulders, she whispers, “I meant it, I swear, I meant it.” Her breathing is harsh as she moulds around the foreign object, a dangerous heat pooling inside of her belly. He catches her lips in a kiss.

“Breathe, Mikasa,” he reminds her, when he sees that she’s holding her breath. “Are you scared?” 

Scared? Turned on, maybe. Aroused out of her fucking mind most definitely. “You scared of me?” he prompts, again, when she hesitates. 

She shakes her head. “Good girl.” He tips her chin up towards him. “Now, I want you to fuck it like you’d fuck my cock.” 

His words feel like liquid fire in her veins, like gasoline that had been lit with a match. “I—” 

“You can do it, baby, I know you can.” 

And really what more encouragement does she even need? Maybe it’s the pill from earlier, or maybe it’s just Eren, but when he speaks to her like that, calls her a good girl, talks dirty to her and tells her what to do, it makes her feel like she can do anything. 

So she sinks down onto the metal, jerking herself up and down with as much leverage as she can muster. A tiny part of her brain reminds her to feel some kind of fear, tells her that she’s probably playing with her life, that she’s in the arms of a man who’s probably crazier than her. But it didn’t matter. It was often that way when she was in Eren’s embrace— she didn’t care much for sanity. Just for him to hold her close, whisper dirty things in her ear and tell her she’s being so wonderfully good for him. 

That’s her favourite drug, actually— Eren, his voice, his incredible mouth, his addictive body. 

“This what you wanted, Mikasa? I could smell you dripping into your panties,” he says, amused. 

Panting, she leans into his ear. “I want you, Eren. Want you inside of me.”

He places a kiss on her shiny, sweat-slick forehead, brushing her hair away from her pretty eyes. “Come for me, baby. And maybe then I’ll give you what you want.” 

Whimpering in protest, she still rides his gun. “Not fair.” But he can see she’s getting there. He can see her breathing change, her teeth rough against her lips, her nipples hard through her dress. “I’m close, Eren,” she mumbles, “Will you rub me?” 

And even though it’s cheating, and not what he told her, he gives in to her. Uses his thumb to press down on her slick clit, and give her the friction she needs to feel good. Besides, he likes watching her feel good, likes seeing her head thrown back, mouth open as she comes. Swears there’s nothing prettier in this world than seeing his girl on the brink of an orgasm.

Swears there’s no sound sweeter than when she says his name, and breathes in his ear that she’s gonna come. She didn’t have to warn him, he can feel it, he can feel her pussy flood against his finger, feels the shudders wrack her body. 

He’s quick to slip into her when she’s riding out her orgasm. The second she mourns the loss of the cylinder inside of her, he’s already pressing at her entrance, his cock thick and ready and painfully hard from just how long he had to wait to feel her. He’d wanted it since before they left for their stupid job, wanted to cancel their evening plans and rip this tiny, work-of-a-torture-artist dress, that showed off more than it covered, off her body. 

“Love how you feel,” she whimpers, and honestly he thinks he should be the one saying that because the way she fits him like she was fucking made for him, is the best feeling in the whole damn world.

He’s panting against her mouth from how rough he’s being with her, but he doesn’t care. And she doesn’t either. She loves it, he can tell because she doesn’t bother to restrain the pretty noises she makes, gasps when he drives into her all the way up to her sensitive spot, moans when he grinds against her clit. “I’m close,” he tells her, when he’s rung one more orgasm out of her perfect pussy, unable to take the way her walls squeeze around him much longer. And because she doesn’t let him pull out, whining when he thinks maybe he should finish on her thigh, he comes inside of her, groaning as she spasms around him one last time.

She’s dripping down her thighs, onto her ruined lace panties and onto the floor before he carries her to the bed, and drops her there. He can feel her panting as she rests her head on him, still seeing stars himself, from just how good it felt. 

“Pass me a smoke?” He murmurs, when he hears the rustling of a bag. She brings it to his lips and helps him light it. 

“That was pretty hot,” she says with an exhale, voice breathy and thoroughly fucked out. “You had the safety on, didn’t you?” 

He chuckles. “That’s a secret.”