mitsuyasangel

[mitsuyasangel]

𝐀𝐌 𝐈 (𝟐𝟓𝐅) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝟐𝟖𝐌)

i know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for beta reading for me!! this is part of @k9nto's reddit-inspired collab! (ps this isnt a true form fic i just think he looks SEXY IN THAT PIC HNNNNGN) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking. Words: 10.6k

“I’ve heard about you.” Yuuji starts, turning his head from looking up at the stars to facing you. Your mind feels cloudy, but you return his stare. He thinks your pearly smile belongs in the sky; a permanent constellation to remind him of this moment. “How come this is my first time meeting you?”

You sigh, reaching over as he hands a lit spliff to you. The bonfire rages in front of you both, the smoke burning your eyes until they fill with water.

At least you have the perfect cover if you burst into tears.

“Things got… hard.” you tell him, not really wanting to elaborate. But golden-brown puppy dog eyes will you to continue. It’s stupid, really, how cliché people become when they smoke. You’re no exception. The intoxication and the setting make you feel as though you’re in an indie movie, longing to share your scars and become closer to the one attractive boy giving you his attention. “My ex, he cheated on me. I was with him for two years so it hurt.” you confess, taking a thick drag before passing it back to him, he tuts as he takes it from you.

“I’m really sorry,” he expresses, holding eye contact while he smokes. The feeling rushes straight to his head and through his blood. He laughs a little as he gets comfortable in his seat. “Sorry… I’m not laughing at you.” he clarifies, laughing again.

You start to laugh too, leaning over to grab the spliff from his hand before he sets the back garden on fire with it. Both of your attention is pulled from each other as you hear a scream from inside. The party is still going on indoors, and the scream soon turns into a girly laugh.

No doubt one of your friends flirting with one of the other guys.

“It’s okay.” you assure him, getting just as comfortable in your own seat as you smoke the remainder of the joint. You wrap yourself in the blanket you brought outside and turn your body slightly to face him. “It was with my best friend, too.” you continue, your deepest wound not seeming so scarring as you allow the high to expose your secrets on your behalf.

“Shit.” he shakes his head.

“I’ve been doing therapy and stuff so I’m better. I just wasn’t in the mood to see people…” you explain, jolting upright a little as you realise you’re oversharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep and make you feel uncomfortable.” you tell him.

“I’m fine, I’m the one who asked.” he chuckles, getting comfier under his own blanket as he turns to look at you.

His warm eyes make you feel relaxed, safe. And you hate it. You hate how much of a cliché you really are becoming and you hate that you can’t help it. This moment feels so much bigger than anything, but deep down, you’re paranoid, because you’re sure it’s the drugs talking.

You’ve heard about Yuuji, too.

You’ve heard about how sweet he is and how he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He has a sports scholarship of some kind, and after a quick stalk of his socials you noted how reflected this is in the form of his chiseled body. Could he really be so nice? He seems, perfect.

And apparently he, gives the best head.

“I have a secret.” he tells you, quietly. His voice almost drowned out by the crackling bonfire beside you. You aren’t sure what makes you heat up so quickly. The implication of his words or the way he said them. A lustful look in his eyes as the fire dances wildly beside you both.

“Yeah?” you tell him, cheeks fill with warmth as you try to ignore how fucking hot it is in pursuit of looking cool. And that makes you giggle, for some reason. Yuuji isn’t the one making you flush with heat, it’s the fire, idiot. “T-Tell me.” you encourage him, throwing off your blanket and fanning yourself dramatically.

So much for looking cool.

He grins, almost coyly, as he leans across the arm of his chair. And for some reason, you instinctively mirror him. Is it so secret that you need to be close? He might whisper it to you.

He tilts his head, smirking. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips a few times. Enough times that you make a note of it. And your heart is fucking racing with each flicker of his gaze. You think you know what’s coming. But you stay still, watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.

“… I really wanna kiss you.” he admits. And if you weren’t hot before, you certainly are now. You try, and likely fail, to keep it cool. A wide grin spreads across your face and you burst into giggles. But your eyes meet his again, and you see a smile just as wide as yours on his face as he observes you.

“Yeah?” you ask, dumbly.

“Yeah.” he nods.

You gulp, shallowly, leaning in closer to him and letting your eyes fall closed. He smirks, again, leaning in until your lips meet. It’s sweet and passionate, until he pulls away. It surprises you a little. Worries you, even. Are you a bad kisser? Maybe you are when you’re high. But worry turns to astonishment as he pulls your chair closer to until the arms of both of your seats touch. He smirks, again, wrapping his arm around your neck as he leans in to kiss you.

And now, you really do hate yourself.

You moan into it.

You aren’t even sure where it came from. Was that really you? He grins, nonetheless, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest as his tongue meets yours in a more than welcome manner. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you both. A kiss infused daze covers your features as you look at him under heavy eyelids, and you pant, deeply.

“I have another secret.” he whispers, stealing another sweet kiss from your raw lips. Gloss smeared over your lip line and a dewiness transferred to his.

“Is it as good as the first?” you tease, giggling as his hand cups your face. You mewl, melting into his touch as his thumb strokes your cheek delicately. Your eyes widen. A look of curiosity replaces the majority of the lust, though you both know it’s still lurking.

“Well,” he starts, his eyes begin to wander. You observe him as his vision roams from the sky to the flames beside you. He takes his time, the anticipation of his words runs rampant through your bloodstream. Until, finally, he blesses you with his gaze once more. “I want to stay with you until the sun comes up. I want you to sit on my lap, with my cock inside you, under our blankets. All night.”

You’d hoped once he told you that your anxiety would have diminished. Though you’re sure with the way his eyes are fixated on your lips, your heart is surely surveying an escape route from your slack-jawed mouth as it pumps hard and violently through you. He doesn’t seem worried that you haven’t said a word, and his gaze doesn’t falter.

“Okay.” you nod.

It excites you. You haven’t been with anyone since your ex. And it might be a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop you. It’s not like you’re rushing into being with someone. It’s been months since things ended with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You stand up, bringing your blanket as you stand over Yuuji, and he holds your hips gently.

He feels under your skirt, smiling when he feels how soaked your panties are but he doesn’t comment. He moves them into the crease of your thigh and encourages you to straddle him.

You do.

Hovering slightly as he pulls down his joggers and his semi springs free. It’s big and pretty, like him. You kiss him as he jerks himself until he’s aching. He’s desperate to bury it inside of your gummy walls, his cock catches against your eager hole with every purposeful stroke.

He throws his head back as you sink down on him, and your hips stutter slightly from the stretch. You’re trying to focus on concealing your bodies with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, but your lips fly to his in a bid to silence yourself as he sheaths himself fully.

“Fuck, you’re tight… so wet, too.” he mumbles, hips rolling ever so slightly as he enjoys the feeling of being inside of you raw.

You jolt, panicked, as you hear a knock from the kitchen window. Both of your attention is stolen to see the origin, and you spot a group of partygoers hollering from inside. Two of his friends and one of yours, they all cheer and whoop as they can only assume what’s going on under the blanket.

Yuuji smiles, shaking his head before turning back to capture your lips in another soft kiss. You’re too distracted to notice him flip them off until they disappear.

“Do I remember the night the most perfect woman in the world let me hit her raw after a few minutes of talking under the stars? Yes, baby, I remember the best night of my life, why?” Yuuji asks after you recall that first night you met. “Very cool of you, by the way. I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”

You giggle, punching his arm softly as you curl into his side in bed. And you sigh, dreamily, thinking about it again. It’s been over a year since that night and you feel just as hazy around him as you did then. You were worried about him thinking of you as a one night stand. Worried that you’d just given in to this stranger for no real reason only to get your feelings hurt again.

But as the sun began to rise and wake you both up in that horrendously uncomfortable chair, he kissed your forehead and held you tightly against his chest. He stroked your hair until you managed to blink the blurriness from your eyes and see his in a new light. The crackle of the orange and white flames had gone from them. Instead, they were honeyed and soft. The kindest eyes you’d ever seen.

“The McDonald’s breakfast in the carpark was better than the sex in the garden, by the way.” you tease him, earning a tickle attack into your sides.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in the backseat afterwards.” he laughs, stopping his assault as you begin to scream. You cuddle into him again, his fingers tracing over the flesh of your upper arm. “It was good though, really good. Should we order hash browns?”

“Yes.” you nod, excitedly.

He sits up and reaches over to his bedside cabinet to grab his phone. He sighs as he checks his notifications. You sigh, too, watching him as he gets out of your warm bed in search of his clothes.

So much for hash browns.

“Yuuji…” you start.

“Don’t start, please, I don’t wanna leave in a bad mood.” he tells you. He smirks when he realises you’re checking out his abs, only focusing on him again as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t want to rush moving in just because you feel sorry for me.”

“I’m not rushing you, and I don’t feel sorry for you!” you tell him, shuffling onto your knees and crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling beside the edge of the mattress. “I hate your brother. He’s a creep and he treats you like shit. I have plenty of room here… you can move in here and have your own space and—”

“I know he’s a dick.” he agrees, pulling on his socks and slipping his feet into his sneakers. “But he’s my only family. I’m not just gonna ditch him. Why don’t you move in with me?” he wonders.

“Um… I live in a townhouse instead of an apartment and it’s better, it’s in a better neighbourhood and your brother isn’t here.” you smile, smugly, and it earns a chuckle from him.

“Okay, you’re right about that. Speaking of which though I can’t stay tonight but you can come over if you want. I’ll order those hash browns for you tomorrow when I’m on my to the gym. I’m booked with PT sessions my entire shift.”

“I’m not waking up at 6am to eat hash browns alone, Yuuji.” you roll your eyes.

“You can text me when you wake up and I’ll order them for you. Pleeeeease?” he flutters his eyelashes dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”

“I didn’t say yes?” you respond, flabbergasted. “Is Sukuna gonna be there?”

“Well, yeah. He lives there.” Yuuji tells you, earning an eye roll from you. He is in complete agreement on how much his older brother sucks. He understands why you hate him. He’s irritating, he’s crass and seems to have no concept of personal space or privacy. Yuuji doesn’t care for his brother in the least, and he has no doubt the feeling is mutual. There is love there, of course, but only out of necessity. “You don’t seem to mind him when the family discount applies for weed, though. Interesting.” he says with faux suspicion.

“Okay, that is literally the only thing he’s good for.” you remind him. He laughs, agreeing.

He kisses your lips chastely, hurrying to grab his backpack to hurry home to his expectant brother. The only two reasons he ever leaves you in haste are for work, or for Sukuna. Today was meant to be a day you could spend together since you both have the day off.

But of course, Sukuna ruins everything.

YUUJI: FORGOT TO ASK YUUJI: ARE WE SMOKING TONIGHT? YOU: DUH! YUUJI: BETTER BE NICE TO SUKUNA FOR THAT FAMILY DISCOUNT THEN 😉

You stand outside of your boyfriends apartment complex, shivering, waiting for somebody to answer the door. He ordered a taxi for you since he knows you always worry about your car getting broken into when you visit, his own car suffering numerous break-ins in the span of your relationship.

And really, you don’t want somebody to answer the door. You want it to be Yuuji, specifically, the thought of Sukuna answering the door and tormenting you until you get to the safety of Yuuji’s room is entirely too much to handle. Your nerves are already shredded by being here, the thought of having a battle of words with Sukuna will surely tip you over the edge.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” you hear a voice from behind you. You turn around to see Yuuji. Fuck. You see the hallway light flicker on from under the crack of the front door to his apartment and you realise too late that a demon has been summoned. “I went and got cookie ingredients, I thought we could bake some before we smoke later.”

“Sounds fun.” you smile, his sweet idea assuages the tension you feel, albeit briefly, before his elder brother swings open the front door. Yuuji pulls his lips into a thin line when you can barely contain the scoff that scratches through your throat. Sukuna rolls his eyes, moving aside to let you both in. He peaks inside the bag Yuuji is holding before his little brother smacks his hand away. “Do not touch or I will kill you.” Yuuji warns him, carrying the ingredients to the kitchen before putting them away.

You decide to help, hoping it will go quicker if you pitch in and you can escape his brother’s intimidating stare faster. Sukuna approaches, leaning over a counter as he watches you both.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, princess. It’s been a while.” Sukuna taunts, but you ignore him. He clacks his fingernails against the countertop, and the sound is jarring. He smirks when you shoot him a pointedly aggravated stare, giving him reason to do it more. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

You sigh, nostrils flaring as you put two bars of chocolate in the fridge.

“We’re just hanging out, gonna bake these cookies and smoke.” Yuuji answers for you. So you smile, falsely, and rest your back against the wall once you’re done. “Oh, speaking of which… family discount?”

“I’m busy now.” Sukuna looks at you and then back at his brother. “Ask me later.” he expresses, red eyes fixed on you for a moment before he turns to leave.

It’s like you can finally breathe again when you hear him go to his room and close the door. You kick yourself away from the wall and into Yuuji’s open arms. He smooths his heavy hand over your hair, hoping you’ll relax a little. He spends some time figuring out what you can do to pass some time, knowing you’ll need a distraction.

“Let’s just bake the cookies.” you speak, words muffled as you talk into his shirt. You pull away as he looks down at you so that you can speak to him clearly. “I just wanna stay in your room all night…”

“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” he nods. “Okay, lets get all of the ingredients out again.”

He takes his time trying to remember where everything is. You, on the other hand, are rushing to gather them all. Sukuna has a way of making your anxiety spike. He’s too… commandeering. He has a way of forcing everyone’s attention to remain solely on him whether you try to ignore him or not.

You’re intimidated by him, he’s more muscular than your boyfriend and he’s a drug dealer for fuck sake.

It brings shame to you when Yuuji has to snap his fingers to get you out of your trance as you think about his brother. You start cutting up the chocolate bars while he puts ingredients in the stand mixer.

And your mind wanders, again. It’s not like you’re scared of Sukuna. Well, you are, terrified would be more apt. But you know he wouldn’t do anything to you. He’d risk losing Yuuji. And as much as they don’t really get along, they’re extremely co-dependent. Especially Sukuna. He likes the presence of his little sibling and has a slight superiority complex due to being older.

The reality is, you think Sukuna would be lost without Yuuji. Lonely, even. And having Yuuji’s steady income is a nice sense of security for him. He makes plenty of money being a dealer, of course, but he knows it’s a fools game. It’s not reliable and it’s risky.

You put the chocolate chunks into the mixer and watch him as he masterfully fills the ingredients into the bowl. Your thoughts calm for a moment as you can do nought but watch the whisk whir.

“You know I wanna move in with you eventually, right?” Yuuji tells you, and it fully breaks you from your train of thought. You look at him, staying silent so that he can feel free to continue speaking. He leans against the counter as the ingredients continue to mix. “I wanna live with you… marry you… all that.”

His talk of marriage makes your cheeks fill with heat, though you’ve gotten better at playing things cool since your first encounter. You just smile, and nod, as you drink in the delicious information.

“I’m just worried about him.” he tilts his head, indicating he is referring to his elder brother. You nod in understanding, though you don’t have much sympathy for your future brother-in-law. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “We aren’t like you, we don’t have a big family. It’s just us.”

“Well my family isn’t that—” you stop yourself, looking into Yuuji’s disappointed eyes. It’s foolish to pretend you aren’t blessed with an adoring family. You’re your parents only child, though. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling. And, of course, you’re spoilt rotten. The reality is that if you didn’t come from privilege, you and Yuuji could have been neighbours. But your parents weren’t about to let you live in a dangerous neighbourhood when they can easily afford to subsidise you. “It must be tough, baby. I know you feel guilty for wanting to leave him.” you rub your hand up and down his arm as a show of comfort.

“Yeah…”

“But…” you start, his eyes locking with yours again. “He’s a grown man, Yuuji. You’ve lived the same life and look at you now… You’re nothing like him.”

You’re right. He knows you are, that’s why you’re standing in silence until the timer goes off and he checks the ingredient bowl. It’s sticky. He scoops a little on his finger and dots it on your nose. The kitchen fills with laughter as you try to retaliate. He’s too fast for you, though.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he tells you as the situation calms. He licks the chocolatey dough from your nose and presses a gentle kiss onto the tip. And dammit you can’t help but smile.

You begin rolling the dough into balls on a tray. The silence has dissipated, but your thoughts still run rampant. Should Sukuna really be Yuuji’s responsibility? No, of course not. But Yuuji won’t see it that way. He’s sensitive and caring. God, he cares so much.

It makes you dizzy as you watch him smile and walk with the cookies to the oven. They smell so great already, you could have eaten them raw. But they’ll be even better when they’re baked to perfection.

You’ve made these cookies so many times now. The pair of you have process committed to memory. They’re so good. Especially with a tall glass of milk. You always tease Yuuji when you do this since he’s always left with a milk moustache after devouring his plate of cookies.

The sound of the timer rings through the kitchen again. You clap excitedly as Yuuji covers his hands with some oven mitts. The chocolatey smell hits you both like a train, the pair of you moaning involuntarily as you inhale it. He brings them over to the countertop, setting them down to cool.

Sukuna smells it, too. He loves it when you bake cookies because he knows neither of you will deny him one. He’s been smoking and playing video games since he retreated to his room. He’s thoroughly stoned and would very much enjoy a sweet treat right about now. He pauses his game, and the sound of his door opening and closing brings back all of the tension to your body.

“Here.” Sukuna speaks as he enters the kitchen. He tosses a baggie onto the counter and looks at his brother expectantly. Yuuji nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet so he can pay him. Sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you in the meantime. And as you go to grab the weed, he places his hand over it and pulls it back towards himself.

“Thanks, man.” Yuuji smiles, handing the cash to his brother who pockets it without even checking it’s right. Though Sukuna’s stare doesn’t waver, you find yourself looking down at his hand covering the weed and then turning away completely. He internally beams with pride at that, thrilled to know it’s still so easy to intimidate you. But on the outside it’s simply portrayed as a slight curve of the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” Yuuji wonders.

“Yeah, actually,” Sukuna speaks, finding your eyes again before he looks into Yuuji’s. “I want a cookie, call it family tax.”

“Take two.” you tell him, sternly, a new ferocity in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. You walk over to them and place two cookies on a little plate for him. You go to hand it to him, but as he reaches out to grab them you place them down on the counter. “Let them cool.” you smile, sarcastically.

“Aren’t you sweet.” Sukuna snarls, teeth bared as he slides the plate towards himself. “Sweet enough for your turn. Pay up, you know what I want.” he chuckles. He turns his head and taps his finger against his cheek.

“C’mon, dude…” Yuuji tries to interject. You know Yuuji is furious, deep down. But he won’t call him out on it. Last time he did he wouldn’t give either of you any weed for two weeks. It wouldn’t be a problem if you knew anyone else you could buy from. And the shit Sukuna gets is good. Yuuji has given up on trying to be a dominating presence when it comes to living with his brother. Sukuna is always one step ahead and Yuuji can’t quite keep up.

You go to him, reluctantly, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. It makes your skin crawl. He makes your skin crawl. And despite your sense of urgency to flee the scene, you can’t. His hand grabs your wrist, and Yuuji is ready to spring to action. Sukuna’s face is unbearably close to yours. His red eyes piercing your own as he does all he can to make you feel small and pathetic.

“That’s a good girl.” he sneers, placing the baggie on the top of your hand after releasing your wrist. He chuckles, darkly, as he walks away with his plate of cookies, taking a bite out of one before he disappears. He kicks his bedroom door shut behind himself, the sound of laughter and guns shooting loudly from his TV are the only thing either of you can hear.

“I’ll bring the cookies and clean up.” Yuuji sighs as he ventures to the sink. “Go and get comfy and pick a movie.”

You don’t say anything, leaving your boyfriend to tidy up in silence. You’re seething with rage. This isn’t right. He does this every single time you’re here and you buy a deal from him. And Yuuji just lets him. You know you neither of you have much choice if you want the access and ability to smoke. But it’s getting to you, badly.

Around fifteen minutes pass after you left the kitchen. You’ve since gotten into your sweatpants and comfortable vest. Shorts would have been preferable, since there’s still an uncomfortable sizzle to the November air, but you’ve learnt your lesson about what you wear when you visit the Itadori household. You’ve had Sukuna leer at your thighs more times than you can count. And it’s never subtle, his eyes lingering for a moment too long to have it potentially be an accident. It’s always so lecherous and purposeful.

You decide to watch Clueless, again. You’re sure Yuuji will be defeated when he sees your choice, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve watched it recently. It’s been a comfort movie to you, for some reason, since Halloween.

“Hey.” Yuuji smiles as he enters the room, somehow managing to carry two glasses of milk and two plates of cookies. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV. You rush to grab a plate and a glass from his hands to ease his load, putting them on your bedside cabinet as he does the same with his own.

“Clueless.” you smile, happily. “Her step-brother has been hitting really different for me, lately.”

He closes his eyes and stifles a sigh. You can see a laugh desperate to break free as his mouth shakes through a smile. But to his credit, he manages to compose himself, eyes opening again once the reality has set in. Clueless. Again!

“Sounds great baby.”

It’s been a week since you last got to spent time with Yuuji. Your work schedules have been clashing, it feels like a lifetime since you got to spend any time together.

You enjoyed your hash browns in bed after he ordered them for you when you stayed over at his place. Though he ended up ordering Sukuna breakfast, too, leading to uncomfortable extended time with him that you prefer to avoid at all costs. He tried to make conversation with you, he often does, but you took it upon yourself to go back to bed with your hash browns. You tried to enjoy them. You tried to relax. But it’s near impossible when you’re under the same roof as someone you loathe. You watched a Youtube video on your phone while you ate, and then quickly got ready and booked a taxi home.

You’d hoped next time you got to see your boyfriend it would be at your house and away from Sukuna. But, alas, that was not the case. You received a text from him at 10am asking you to come over ASAP.

YOU: is something wrong??

YUUJI: no

YUUJI: just stressed

YUUJI: pls can u come? I’m working tomorrow so I cant stay over ☹️

YOU: okay ☹️ omw 💖

You’ve never had a text like this from him before, and it scared you. Something was telling you that he was downplaying how he was feeling. It took you barely any time to get ready. Forgoing makeup and making an effort in favour of rushing to your boyfriend’s side. Maybe something had happened at work.

Maybe he cheated on you.

He could be dying!

“Shut up…” you whisper to yourself as you pack your toothbrush into its travel case and throw it into your overnight bag. You pick up your car keys, not wanting to waste time waiting for a taxi.

You throw your bag on the passenger seat and speedily drive off. Your anxiety and the adrenaline was getting to you, you knew you’d have to calm down or you’d end up getting into an accident. As you focused on getting to your destination in one piece, you took several deep, slow breaths.

You’re safe.

You park up your car and lock it up. With your bag in tow, you rush to your boyfriend’s apartment. Your left foot taps impatiently after you knock on the door.

No answer.

You knock a little louder.

No answer.

And then you find yourself knocking louder, repeatedly, while you wait for your boyfriend to answer the door. He knew you were coming. He said it was urgent. So why are you waiting here, freezing, for him to answer the door? You’re filled with relief when you see his figure obscuring the light trickling through the cracks of the door. Your teeth chatter, and you begin stepping from foot to foot in a bid to warm through.

But your blood runs cold as the wrong Itadori opens the door.

“Heh. What do you want?” he asks, a cocky grin permeating his features.

“Move.” you demand, barging past him with your bag so that you can hurry to Yuuji’s side. Maybe something is wrong. He could be sick and resting in bed.

“He’s not here.” Sukuna informs you, halting you in your tracks. You turn to face him, a scowl that could kill adorning your face. Did he do something to him? All fear you’ve ever felt from him dies as you approach him, setting down your bag so that you can hit or punch or scratch him if needs be. “Relax.” he tells you.

“Where is he?”

“At work. I thought you had your entire relationship on a Google calendar, you didn’t know?” he laughs, angling his body so that he can bypass you in the skinny hallway. You huff a little, picking up your bag again so that you can follow him.

“But he asked me to come over, he said it was urgent.” you explain, though he doesn’t stop walking. You hurry after him, grabbing his arm until he stops. And he does, his eyes slowly dart down to where your hand holds onto his bicep until you awkwardly let go. “S-Sorry. I’m just confused. Why would he text me if he’s not even here?”

“Sweetheart, I’m not his PA. I don’t fucking know.” he turns away from you again, opening his bedroom door. You huff, again, utterly defeated as you try and decide what to do. You look towards his bedroom door and then to the entrance. You suppose you could go home until he finishes work. Or you could go to the gym he works at and find out what’s happening. You head towards the front door, thinking you’ll decide once you start driving. Sukuna hasn’t fully retreated into his room yet, leaning against his door frame as he calls out to you. “I’m making a bucket, want one?”

Your eyebrows knot as you turn to face him, another involuntary scoff turning to laughter as you look at him in disbelief. He’s got some nerve. You don’t even want to respond, opting to carry on your journey towards the entrance before you look at him again.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t want to smoke with you.” you roll your eyes.

“Awe, why not, princess? I won’t even add any tax.” he smirks, already heading towards the kitchen as if you’ve given him the answer he clearly wants to hear. And you hate him with your whole heart, because fuck, if you aren’t intrigued. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gravity bong. “Excellent choice, good girl.” he winks as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, as he grabs an empty one litre water bottle from beneath the sink.

You don’t say anything, leaning over the island counter as he prepares the bong for you both. It’s embarrassing, after some time, that you find yourself having to avert your gaze as realise you’ve been staring at his defined back muscles. He’d decided to forgo any form of clothing to cover his torso, only wearing a low riding pair of grey sweatpants, though they’re a darker grey than yours.

It isn’t much better as he whistles, tilting his head for you to join him by the sink. You’d close your eyes if it didn’t make you look like a complete freak, only to hide them from his flexing abs and his juicy pecs. The tattoos aren’t helping, either. It only serves as a reminder that you’re hopelessly trying not to ogle your boyfriends, older, larger, and scarier brother. He’s behaving interestingly, though. He’s never been like this before. He’s dismissive and almost uninterested in you.

“C’mere.” he orders you, dragging you closer to him as he lights the weed in the bowl. You gulp, a little intimidated. Gravity bongs are something you don’t partake in often, you can’t even remember the last time you did one. He moves his finger from the hole he’d poked into the bottle and the water begins to drain from it. Smoke fills the bottle in it’s wake, and when empty, he screws the lid off for you. “Quickly.”

You begin to inhale everything. Not caring how fucked up you feel in the least. You show no signs of stopping, and it impresses him. Your fingers hook around the kitchen counter as you finish, knowing when your bones feel like jelly that you’ve had too much.

“Atta girl,” he comments before repeating the process for himself. He pays you no mind as you wander towards the corner counter space, lifting yourself up like you’re the queen of the kitchen taking her throne.

He continues to ignore your presence as he smokes, inhaling and entirely draining the smoke that had filled the bottle. He tosses it into the sink, walking by you to grab a bag of ice from the freezer, filling two glasses to the brim with the frozen cubes. He fills them with water, sliding one to you.

“Drink.” he commands, and you do, not realising how thirsty you’d become. Your throat burning and eyes flooded with red veins. You drink the water and immediately need to refill. He shows you a kindness, though, handing you his glass to drink before filling your own again. “You’re a real lightweight, huh?”

“Oh shut up. I’m just gonna go.” you tell him, jumping down from the counter and going to collect your bag again.

“You can’t, you’re high.” he reminds you, and in your stoned state the sentence makes you burst into laughter. “You’ll end up crashing your car. Fool.” he gives you another glass of water, refilling his own for a second time before turning to leave the kitchen.

“Great, so I’m stuck here with you and nothing to do?” you pout, opening the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat. “Why did we not make cookies?” you mumble to yourself.

“I have snacks in my room.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, like a snake offering an apple in the garden of Eden. You’re tempted. God, you’re tempted. What else are you going to do until Yuuji gets home? He grins, widely, as he hears your feet follow after him as he walks into his bedroom.

You’ve never been in here before. It’s quite tidy, all things considered. It’s very tidy, actually. You’d expected it to be some dimly lit shit hole. It smells nice, save for the weed, the windows are open wide and the sheets smell fresh as you sit on his bed.

He throws a sleeve of Oreos at you and you turn into a giddy child. The two of you kick off your shoes, not caring for where they land as you both get comfortable on his bed. You’re above the duvet, sitting adjacent to him but angled away with your legs crossed. He gets under the covers, though, picking up his Xbox controller as he mindlessly plays GTA V.

You spend far too much time licking the cream of your first Oreo, utterly entranced by the characters, the plot and the violence of the game he’s playing. He doesn’t seem to mind when you ask him a million questions about it, either. He’s more amused that you’re so clueless.

“Here,” he tosses the controller at you. “Go for a drive, it’s fun when you’re stoned.” he tells you.

You’ve played video games before, you aren’t a total idiot. Though he had expected you to ask for more help when he gave you the controller. He thinks it’s cute that you try to obey the speed limits and stop at every red light.

He reaches into his bedside cabinet, pulling out a joint. It’s ignited quickly, his eyes squinting as he inhales and watches the screen to make sure you’re not getting him into trouble on his game.

“You’re not bad when you’re high.” you tell him, passing the controller back to him. He takes it from you, saving his progress before reaching out to smoke again. He sits upright, and you barely react when he pulls you away from where you were sitting until you're facing him. “U-Um…”

He’s giving you a look. That look. The look Yuuji gave you when he told you he had a secret. God, they could be fucking twins if Sukuna wasn’t covered in tattoos, it’s scary. But he doesn’t say he has a secret; he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches you with a pondering stare, but an aim behind his eyes nonetheless.

Your own eyes shift when you see him bring the spliff from his ashtray to his lips. The cherry end of it igniting holds your focus before your eyes are on his again, enraptured by the moment and what he’s thinking. He sucks the smoke deep down into his lungs, and you can’t help but watch the way his chest moves from his heavy breath.

You gasp, softly, as he snatches your stare once again. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin and tug downwards until your jaw is lowered. His face is barely a centimetre from yours, you know he’s going to kiss you. But why are you about to let him? His lips ghost yours, and you’re taken aback as you feel a plume of smoke invade your mouth. He’s impressed when you breathe it in, though, but smirks wildly as you begin to cough it up.

“You taste like cookies and cream.” he whispers into your ear, the sensation of his words rushes straight to your heat. But your sense comes back, pushing him away from you as you look sternly into his eyes.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” you remind him, preparing to move back to where you were sitting prior. But he stops you, easily, pushing your body down until your head is in his lap but over the duvet cover. “Sukuna…” you sigh, your head and your limbs feel too heavy to move on their own anymore.

“Mm?”

“I’m wi- I’m with Yuuji… I’m with your brother.” you remind him, you move your head a little so that you can look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, though, still focused on his game. You can hear dialogue again, and guns, you’re not as exciting in comparison to that, you suppose.

“I know.” he speaks, his jawline bulging as he swallows and clenches his teeth slightly. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you. Silly girl.” he speaks, still not bothering to grant you with the eye contact you’re so desperately craving for some reason.

But your body betrays you as a whimper escapes from your throat. And that does get his attention. His game pauses, and he looks down at you. But you hide your face, scrunching your eyes shut so he can’t read your expression. But your shy little display tells him all he needs to know.

“Oh? You minx,” he torments you further, and you want to scream. You can’t hide your face anymore, your cheeks becoming too warm and your entire body sizzling with heat. You’re panting, uncomfortably as you try and cool down. “You wanted me to kiss you. You’re with Yuuji, remember?”

“I didn’t! I- I- would never. I love Yuuji, I’m in love with him! I’d never kiss you. Yuck.” you fib, if you weren’t high, you know you’d never be in this predicament. You know you’d never have agreed to hang out with him. But really, it’s a lie. You weren’t high when he asked if you wanted to do buckets. He intrigued you, and you’re a fool, because you fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.

“Hm…” he hums, his spliff resting between his lips as his eyes linger on your cleavage before roaming down your body to your sweatpants. He places the blunt back in the ashtray, his eyes setting their sights on your hands. He moves one with ease above your head, though you instinctively pull it back. But it’s too late, the other one joins, a singular hand of his pin both of your wrists down above your head. You wriggle against him, but you don’t pose a challenge in the least.

“S-Sukuna?” you question as his fingers breach the waistline of your sweatpants. A sadistic smirk sprawls across his face as he realises in your haste to be here you’d not bothered putting on panties. You mewl, desperately, as his fingers find your petalled flesh. He doesn’t do much, simply feeling your slick and teasing your folds as he examines your facial expressions.

“You didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asks again. He drags two fingers up your slippery slit until he finds your clit, rubbing targeted circles around it slowly. The tension makes your hips buck, but his face is stern as he watches you keen for him. “Then why is this cunt soaked?”

His words almost bring you to tears, and he can tell. The way they fill with water so rapidly and your face becomes sweaty. You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed. He’s humiliating you, but you’re too turned on to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop.

“I hate you!” you tell him, and there is certainly venom behind it. Because you mean it, you really fucking mean it. He’s the absolute worst. You’re so in love with Yuuji, but he’s ruined everything, now. You should have known this would happen. He’s been flirting and teasing and bothering you throughout your entire relationship with Yuuji. But you never thought it would come to this, ever. Especially after what you’ve been through, you’d never want to inflict that same agonising betrayal onto Yuuji.

“I know. You think I’m so beneath you, yeah?” he grins, and your mouth falls open in surprise, though his circling touch doesn’t stop. “I’m a drug dealer, I’m a bastard, I’m a piece of shit. But, sweetheart, me ‘n Yuuji didn’t grow up with daddy’s bank account like you. But look at you, princess. You hate me and you’re still letting me play with your sloppy cunt.”

“Fuck you.”

“You can, I know you want that. You’re drenched. My fuckin’ fingers are pruning.” he laughs, you want nothing more than to cover your face in shame, but you can’t while Sukuna’s heavy hand trap your wrists. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Much cuter than when you’re trying to be tough f’me.” his rubbing halts, though the sense of abandonment is short lived as he plunges two thick fingers into you tight hole, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit again.

“O-Oh, fuck, hnng—” you groan, eyes meeting his as he pleasures you. And he drinks in the sight. Your tongue lolled from your mouth as you accommodate his touch, the pads of his fingers batter your g-spot again and again until your back arches. “Sukuna, s-stop, we can’t.” you warn him.

He smirks, ignoring you, opting to do the opposite. He increases the pace in which his fingers torment you, his cock leaks when he sees a few tears spill from your eyes. He’s that good, huh? Maybe his little brother isn’t as talented.

“You’re fucking tight. You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha?” he taunts you, you attempt to clamp your thighs around his hand, but it only spurs him on more. His fingers sink deeper. Your mind and rationale become lost to him. “You’re gonna cum for a bastard like me? Your boyfriends brother, too. Gonna cum in your pants like a virgin just for me? Pathetic little girl.”

“Oh FUCK, GOD!” you cry out, thighs trembling around his hand as you orgasm. Your chest heaves, and he doesn’t fail to notice how your nipples have began to poke through your vest. “C-Christ, okay, lets just forget—”

“I’m not done with you.” he speaks, it cuts through you as he lets your hands go. You massage them quickly, before he pushes his full weight on top of you as you lie flat against the mattress atop the sheets. He holds your jaw, roughly, and kisses you.

He humps his clothed, hard cock against your soaked sweatpants, your slick dampening them with each roll of his hips. He breathes heavily as you kiss. An exchange of saliva and clashing teeth as you moan and break away before licking at each other’s tongues again and again.

You shudder when you feel him put his hands down your pants again, collecting the dewiness at the apex of your thighs before forcing it onto your tongue. And you suck, gratefully, replacing the loss of his lips with his monstrously thick fingers. You can hardly believe he fingered you so easily.

Your lips wrap around his digits beautifully. He moans as he watches your little hands in comparison to his own hold it in place so you can bob your head up and down the length, your tongue licks and laves until there isn’t a trace of your dewiness left.

So he kisses you, again, tongues tangling as he dry fucks his cock into your clothed core. His hands roam and pinch and squeeze every inch of your body that he can grab. He yanks your sweatpants down, tossing them aside with little care to where they might land. And he surprises you, again, when he manoeuvres you seamlessly so that you’re straddling him.

He thinks it’s cute as you look around, unsure of how you got into this position. But he brings you back to him when he humps up into you so that you fall forwards. You kiss him again, but he breaks it to speak.

“Let me taste you, baby. Sit on my face.” he tells you. You’re nervous, but you move yourself so that you’re hovering above him. He pushes a finger into your hole and you throw your head back in satisfaction. “I said sit. I wanna know what a slutty princess cunt tastes like, so fucking sit.” he orders, his arms hooking around your thighs and forcing you down until you smother him with your heat.

“FUCK,” you moan, loudly, as his nose nudges against your throbbing clit. You aren’t sure what to do with so much freedom to move. The way he slurps and feasts on your dripping flesh sends wave after wave of embarrassment through you. And he’s loud he’s so fucking noisy as he moans into your heat and drinks every drop that your heavenly cunt has to offer. “J-Jesus… ah—!” you yelp, feeling his palm come down hard to strike your behind.

You begin to roll your hips, rubbing your pussy up and down over his face and stimulating your clit with his nose. He reaches under your vest, tweaking your nipple as you hump his face. He spanks you again, quickly, as you stop moving. You’re too gone, completely lost in the moment as you use him for your pleasure. You’d never have expected this from him.

He relinquishes your nipple to free his cock from it’s material prison. You heard the sticky sound of it ring through the room as he jerks himself off. His moaning becomes louder. The divine taste of your cunt and the ability to stroke himself goes straight to his head. You’re gone, you’re fucking gone. But he’s right behind you. The way you’re smothering him makes him lightheaded, but he’s not letting you go until he’s ready.

You see the pink silhouette of his cock as you look over your shoulder, but you’re desperate to get a better view. He groans, so loudly that you think he might have came, as you tug on his pink hair. Using it to your advantage as you ride his face into your next toe-curling orgasm. And at that, you do collapse. Practically singing his name as you cum in his mouth, only when you’ve reached your high does he let up on you.

He admires the view of your tits as you back up to look down at him, throwing your vest over your head as carelessly as he’s discarded your pants. His face is shimmering with your juices, and you feel another searing tidal wave of embarrassment as the reality sets in that you’ve done this to him. And you’re still cheating on your boyfriend. But you’re past the point of no return, you think. Yuuji is barely on your mind, all of your attention is on his brother, now.

And he’s still not through with you yet.

“Do you need some cock?” he asks.

“Y-Yes.” you nod, pathetically.

“Look at it, then. Look at my cock and beg for it.” he tells you.

You adjust your position so that you’re hovering above his face again but facing his cock perfectly. It’s beautiful, you think. More defined than Yuuji’s but around the same size and width. His cockhead is more prominent and the veins are unmissable. You’d have begged without even being asked if you’d gotten the chance to see it earlier.

“Go on,” he starts. You feel his hands between your shoulder blades and he pushes you down roughly. “Beg for my cock, whore.”

“Please, please Sukuna. I need you to fuck me.” you start, completely reduced to tears as you look at it as your mouth waters. You hold him with both hands, and you’re still unable to hold the entire length of it. “Wanna cum on you. W-Want you to b-bruise my cervix. Need to feel you inside, please, please please.” you’re practically sobbing as you continue.

“Kiss it.” he demands. “Worship my cock, and I’ll decide if your slutty cunt is worthy.” he tells you. Your eyes widen, but you kiss his tip without question. It’s so sweet and affectionate despite how sordid and lewd it is. But you can’t help it. It’s worthy of worship. You’re sure it’ll hurt, but you’ll take it. You don’t mind in the least.

You lick your tongue across his slit, poking your tongue into it slightly and relishing in how he hisses from the sensation. He buries his face in your cunt again, moaning into your soaking folds as you please him.

His length is freed from one of your hands, making the decision to cup his balls as your kiss down his shaft towards his pubis. His head is thrown back as you make contact with his balls, the grunt he releases is ethereal, you’d never have known such beautiful sounds could from him.

You scream, slightly, as he spanks your ass. It encourages you to take him down your throat and ignore your gag reflex and you bob and suck and run your tongue along each vein it can detect. He can barely focus on eating you out, too bewildered with your near pornographic performance.

“Such a good little cocksucker. No wonder Yuuji likes you.” he spanks you again. “Think he’d still like you if I told him I’ve been balls deep down your throat, slut? I’m not so sure. But I like you, a lot more now.”

“S-Shut up.” you tell him, defiantly. You silence him as you lower your pussy to his lips again, distracting him momentarily with your sweet taste.

You feel his cock flexing in your hand, like he’s ready to blow his load right down your willing throat. Even though you don’t want him to cum like this, you wouldn’t mind. You’ll swallow every last drop for him.

He stops you, though, shoving you away from him so that he doesn’t cum prematurely.

“Hands and knees, now.” he speaks coldly. He admires your face quickly before you get into the position he wants you in. It’s glistening with sweat, tears, spit, and his precum. “Good fucking girl.” he spanks you as you arch your back and wait patiently for him. Your legs spread apart and your cunt pulses in anticipation for him to slot himself inside.

He doesn’t though, not right away. Instead, he leans over to his beside table and pulls his phone off charge. He kneels behind you as he pulls up the camera app and swiping to video mode. His sweatpants are shoved down his thighs and rest at his knees. He takes a few photos of your glittering, pulsating cunt, spreading it open as his fingers dig into one of your ass cheeks.

“Pretty fuckin’ princess pussy…” he moans, and you mirror him, following it with a giggle. You feel a sense of pride at his praise, arching your back deeper. “Ohhh there she is, good girl, good little slut.”

He drags his cockhead through your shimmering folds, gasping each time it catches against your hole.

“P-Please fuck me, daddy, n-eed it.” you whine, earning another hard slap against your ass. He’s happy, of course. He didn’t expect you to be such a slut, he’d never have expected you to utter such a filthy title for him of all people. He’s certainly never heard you refer to Yuuji as daddy whenever he hears you fucking through the thin walls.

“You’ve got good manners, for a whore.” he speaks, your hole flutters with each word, but he sees how hard you clench as he degrades you. A new understanding of what your body likes. He’d only been doing it for his benefit, but now, he knows you like it too. “Do you like being a whore for daddy, hm?”

“Y-Yes,” you pant, “Love bein’ a whore for you, daddy…”

“Cute. I’ll give you my cock, then.” he pushes the tip in before pulling out completely again, chuckling at how whiny you are from the loss. “But you know, princess, good whores like to be cummed in. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Please… please cum inside. W-Want you to fill me up!” you tell him, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough to have him bullying his cock into your desperate cunt. You moan, boisterously from the stretch. You’re sure their neighbours won’t be happy if they’re home, the whole complex probably heard you. But you don’t care, and neither does he.

He’s glad that you said he could cum inside.

It’s not like you had a choice, though.

“Do you still want me to bruise your cervix?” he asks, angling the phone in his hand to capture how fucking deep he is inside of you. Your ass pressed flush against him as you swallow his cock hungrily. You nod, dumbly, yelping again when you feel a stinging slap against your cushioned ass. “Words.”

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.” you wince.

“You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” he laughs.

He begins to pound into you, his brute strength and weight behind every aggressive pummel of his hips. It hurts, God, it fucking hurts as his tip nudges against your cervix. But you don’t care, you’re sure you will when you’re sober and your logical train of thought returns.

But now, in this moment, you truly are Sukuna’s fuck toy.

And it feels fucking sublime.

He captures on film the way that you moan and gasp and plead for something you aren’t even aware of. The way your hands grip into his pristine white sheets. But is favourite part is watching how your pussy stretches open as you swallow his coke can cock. And the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.

“F-Fuck,” he moans, “You’re fucking suffocating me.” he speaks, barely able to contain himself as he feels heady with lust. He doesn’t stop, though, he doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He’ll finger you again to finish you off if needs be, but for now, he needs to be selfish. Thoughts of filling you up and flooding your unprotected womb make him feral.

“Sukuna! S-Stop!” you warn him.

“Huh?” he responds, showing no intention of stopping or slowing as he rams his cock into you repeatedly. The only thing on his mind is finishing, he couldn’t care less about your change of heart or guilty conscience.

“F-Feels funny, I- I can’t! Hnnng—!” you finish, cunt squirting and gushing like a fountain all over him. “Oh my god…” you pant, burying your face in the pillows as you hide your shame from him.

“Holy fuck,” he responds, thrilled that he’d captured the moment on film. You show no signs of stopping either. You squirt as much as a backed-up teenager getting his first handjob. He spanks your pussy and rubs his hand all over it, making a complete mess of the two of you and the sheets below. “Dirty little squirter, hah? Fuck, you’re like a pornstar.” he tells you, chuckling again.

You don’t dare show your face, but you mewl into the pillows as you ride out the rest of your high as he shoves his cock back into you.

“Do it again, on my cock.” he demands.

“C-Can’t, can’t cum anymore.” you tell him, utterly spent and defeated as you allow him to use your body for his own benefit.

“Brat. You’ll cum on daddy’s cock and be grateful that I’ve been so good to you.” he explains. And true to his word, he manages to build it up in you again, somehow, as he continuously batters his length into your g-spot until your vision turns white.

He’s not doing much better, either, still enraptured by the sight of your dripping wet pussy and soiled sheets. It’s something he needs to see again, a sight he will treasure ‘til the day he fucking dies.

“Cum, slut. Make a fucking mess.” he speaks through gritted teeth.

“Mmmnf, hah, aaaah—!” you moan, granting his wish. The sight helps him topple over into his own bliss. His cum flooding your ruined walls, he fucks it further into you, but pulls out eventually to see his sperm dripping from your filthy cunt.

“Are you embarrassed, brat? You sprayed yourself again.” he snickers, spreading your pussy open with two fingers to see the mixture of his cum and your release spill from your twitching hole. “Has Yuuji ever made you do that? No… I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re this much of a dirty whore. But I do, I know now.”

The mere mention of the man you’ve betrayed has you bursting into tears. The sex was mind-blowing, yes, but at what cost? You’ve been begging him to move in. Hell, he was talking about marrying you. But you can’t have that with him, now, not after this.

You sobered up a little after a shower, making sure to keep the door locked as you washed yourself of your indiscretion. You even waited in there until you dried off to get changed, not wanting to risk Sukuna seeing you naked again. The damage is done, of course, but you at least want to be able to proudly say it was a mistake that will never happen again.

Maybe Yuuji will forgive you.

There’s no way you can keep it from him. Not after what you went through. It’ll break his heart, of course it will. But you can’t hide it, it’ll just get worse over time when it eventually comes out, because it will. Whether you tell him or Sukuna does through a weed induced stupor, the truth will come out.

You’ve been checking the time on your phone repeatedly to see if Yuuji has finished work yet. Eager and filled with fear and anxiety so that you can tell him, honestly, what happened. He’s going to hate you. There’s no way he won’t hate you after this. But you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to be truthful.

You tense up as you hear a knock at the door. Yuuji wouldn’t knock, so you know who it is.

“Go away.” you warn him, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Aw, don’t talk to daddy like that.” he smiles, a shit eating grin that you want to smash against concrete.

“You’ve ruined my life, get out of here.” you tell him, crossing your legs as you check the time on your phone again. You sigh, throwing it further down the bed so that it’s out of reach. You’d missed how he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh as he turned to leave. But you stop him. “Don’t tell Yuuji, please. I want to be the one to tell him.”

“Tell him… what?”

You look at him, bewildered, unable to process if he’s being serious or not.

“That we fucked.” you remind him, deciding you aren’t about to spend all day trying to decipher his tone. “I need to be the one to tell him, so don’t say anything.”

“Oh, tell him that?” he questions, laughing again as he realises he knows something you don’t know.

“It’s not fucking funny, Sukuna!”

“Yeah, it is, you’re a little slow on the uptake.” he laughs some more, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruby red eyes piercing into yours intimidatingly despite the smile on his face. “You don’t need to tell Yuuji anything.”

“Yeah, I d—”

“Yuuji knows.” he laughs, louder, almost bursting into hysterics as he sees the astonished look on your face.

“W-What?” you sigh, looking around the room in horror.

“Yeah… I mean, c’mon.” he smirks. “Why else would he text you to come over, when he wasn’t even home?”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[mitsuyasangel]

take me

skate rat!hinata shoyo x miya!reader | w.c 6.1k

a/n: ok just to straighten out the timeline that i didn’t wanna dwell on in the actual fic. the events of show/tell/make me all happened the year before aka readers first year of university. this fic takes place the second year (summer between second and third year of uni to be exact). btw while u don’t have to read the other fics it’ll deffo make more sense if u do!!

— 18+ dark content minors dni —

warnings: (past) incest, public sex, manipulation, gaslighting, male posturing, toxic behavior, blackmail, noncon leaking of nudes/sex tape, dubcon filming (bordering on noncon)

show me | tell me | make me

“No Shoyo, I’m serious, best behavior okay? I’ve never brought anyone home before and-”

“Your brothers are overprotective, I know babe, don’t worry about it. Really, I’ll be charming as all hell.” He’s doing that grin, all wide and shiny that dashes away at every concern. The one that put you completely under his spell, that keeps you coming back for more.

The two of you had only solidified your relationship three and a half odd months ago but you can’t help but feel yourself falling deeper and deeper each day.

Some part of you thinks it’s silly, reckless, that there’s no way the campus loudmouth and skate rat could be this sweet and have you completely enamored. But he treats you so well, he had even asked you out with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, something you had mentioned once during one of your smoke – and more often than not hookup – sessions.

It’s so wildly different from Kita and his games, from the taboo of your brothers and the utter confusion and complication that’s innate with Suna. Shoyo’s different, you know he is.

“Okay but they’re also really competitive and when they find out you skate it’s gonna be a whole thing but like, just ignore them. For me and my sanity, please.” You wrap yourself around his arm, jutting out your bottom lip. With a smirk he flicks at it before pressing his lips against yours, untangling himself from your hold to squeeze his arms around your waist.

A squeal escapes from you as he lifts you off the ground and spins, his balance dangerously off kilter and quickly sending you two tumbling off the cement pathway through campus and into a patch of grass.

“You know I can’t say no to some healthy competition, but I can promise to win in your honor.” He cages you in, peppering more kisses along your cheeks spurring a rather embarrassing fit of giggles to burst from your lips.

“Hey dumbass! Enough with the public fucking.” Your sappy lover’s bliss quickly kicked aside as you lift your head to look over his shoulder to see Kageyama and Tsukishima giving a rather unimpressed and borderline repulsed look.

“Don’t you both have class?” You huff as Hinata rolls off of you, helping to drag you up off the ground and ever the gentleman, begins brushing dried grass off of you.

“Tch.” Tsukishima clicks his tongue. “Skipping, we’re gonna go skate downtown. You coming, idiot?” Neither of his friends bother to spare you a second glance or even a hello, and honestly you’re more than used to it, rolling your eyes and attaching yourself to Hinata’s side.

“We’re going to the library, you two should try it sometime.” You can’t help but stick your tongue out at the pair, your heart swelling at the way it earns you a fond chuckle from Hinata.

The comment earns you a dismissive look from Tsukishima and once again, nothing from Kageyama. And to your disappointment you notice an apologetic look across your boyfriend’s face as he meets your gaze.

“Library another day? You know I can’t skip out on the sesh babe, I’ll make it up to you, ‘kay?” He turns to face you properly and brushes a kiss to your temple, “And besides, I’ll be over tonight anyway, leave your window open.”

With one last sigh and peck to his cheek, you watch your boyfriend run off with his friends. There’s a flash of a memory that bites at the back of your mind, your brothers, Suna, Kita, all of them would disappear at a moment's notice. All of them having ditched you for the sesh.

But again you remind yourself Shoyo is different. He’s better than them. So you resign yourself to a soft sigh as you wave the three of them off and make your way alone to the library.

“So you’re staying for the first two weeks, my parents already know. They actually gave their blessing for you to stay in my room. I guess they figured we wouldn’t try anything with my brothers being like…right down the hall.”

He pulls you closer against his bare chest, the two of you squished together in your full sized bed. Thanking God (and your parents) for making it so you landed a single room campus apartment.

“Jokes on them.” He smirks as he traces his fingers against your lower back, random shapes that send shivers up your spine. “I don’t care.”

“How many times do we have to have the ‘you need to behave’ talk?”

“As much as you want I love when you boss me around, it’s sexy.” He whispers against your cheek, rolling his hips into yours and dragging a choked moan out of you.

“Mm Sho, not yet I’m still recovering from going two rounds in a row.” You plant your hands against his chest as if to stop him but there’s no real force. He’s impossible to say no to.

“What if I go nice and slow?”

“I don’t think slow is really in your vocabulary.”

“I can give it a try. C’mon baby, you know you wanna.” He goads, there’s a part of you that’s too exhausted and too sensitive.

The overstimulation of another round so soon would just be more pain than pleasure. But the need to please him sings in the back of your mind, maybe it won’t be too bad. You’d do just about anything for him after all.

bzzt bzzt

“Shit my phone, pass it over.”

And of course Shoyo instead occupies himself by scraping his teeth over your throat rather than making any sort of attempt to hand over your phone.

“What if I choose to fuck you instead?” Pairing the ever tempting question with one of his hands wandering south.

“Then no head for a week.” He makes a wounded puppy noise and pouts waiting for you to give in, and fuck of course there’s a part of you that’s painfully close to giving in to his desires. Besides, it’s an empty threat.

bzzt bzzt

You poke a finger into his side, spurring a small yelp to escape from him.

“Damn.” He relents finally, placing your phone in your hand.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck does Mom mean you’re bringing home a guy?” You wince at the combination of the venom dripping from his voice and the sheer volume that tears through your phone speaker.

“Hello to you too Tsumu-nii.” Sighing and making a point to roll your eyes dramatically, earning a wide grin from Shoyo.

“Don’t fuck around, since when did you have a boyfriend?” Maybe last year, when you were still so vulnerable and lost. You would’ve folded in two at how angry he is. Maybe even broken up with Shoyo solely because you didn’t want to upset either of your brothers.

But after a whole summer at home, dotted with random hookups with a handful of strangers and a few too many with Kita and occasionally Suna.

Then being thrusted back into university with all that experience and just enough of the ability to think for yourself. You’d grown a bit more into your own, needing a lot less of your brother's approval.

“Since, hm, about three months ago? Almost four. Samu-nii knew.” He didn’t, not really. It’d been when you and Shoyo had been more so hooking up randomly than actually having an established relationship.

And you had lightly glossed over having met someone to your other brother. Who’s irritation was far more subtle than Atsumus' out right cursing and screaming.

“So why the fuck am I just finding out?” His tone a touch whiny, slightly hurt and mainly pissed off.

“Because you would’ve probably threatened to take a train over here and tried to beat him up for no reason?”

“…” You can practically hear him thinking, or more likely hear him putting together some demeaning comment.

“Hit the nail on the head huh?” You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time.

“You’re not bringing him into our fucking house and he’s especially not sleeping in your room.” He seethes, deciding to ignore your statement completely.

It causes a ripe irritation to prickle at the back of your mind, to tighten your chest with a rage that seems to be exclusive to your brothers and their friends.

There’s a part of you that wants to bite back at him, truly show him how much you’ve finally grown. How much you don’t need him coddling and helicoptering your life. But the moonlight is catching in Shoyo’s eyes so perfectly, and you wouldn’t dare miss this opportunity to swoon over the man.

“Ah sorry niichan it’s getting late I’ll see you Sunday!” And with that you end the call, cutting off Atsumu before he can utter another word and toss your phone to the side.

“Wow.” Shoyo whistles, pulling you against his chest once more.

“I told you, overprotective, and now he’s extra mad ugh. Again Sho, best of the best behavior.” Your words are muffled against his chest, and you know the both of you are sick of hearing from and about your brothers.

“So…I can’t eat you out on your dining room table?”

“…Not if someone’s home.”

“And what about right now?”

“I mean…” He really is impossible to say no to.

“So where’s this boyfriend?” Osamu breaks the silence. The three of you had been stationed at the dining room table folding laundry at your mothers behest. You had decidedly taken a momentary vow of silence, too nervous and still annoyed at them to say anything.

“He’s coming on Tuesday. He had assignments to finish up.” You mumble, trying to focus on neatly folding towels.

“Yeah? Or maybe you lied, wanted to get a rise out of us. Is that it little one? Missed your niichans’ attention so much you had to make up a fake boyfriend?” He’s moving in closer, and faster than you had thought when you turn your head and come face to face with his broad chest

“Atsumu.” You try to shoulder past him, a futile attempt truly.

“Don’t brush me off. And show some respect, is that how you’re supposed to address me?” He bites out, you try your best not to flinch or shrink into yourself. But his gaze is icy, sending a harsh chill through your body.

Yet by a true stroke of luck, your phone begins ringing, with Shoyo’s ringtone that he personally had chosen.

“Oh, gotta take that.” You manage to slip past him this time, snatching your phone off the counter and beelining to your room. Ignoring how Osamu immediately starts a fight with Atsumu and yells after you about finishing the laundry.

“Shoyo?”

“Guess who finished up early and is heading towards the train station as we speak?” Relief, excitement and something too damn close to love bubbles up in your throat.

“Oh my god for real? What time are you gonna get here?” You’re wondering if heading to the station early would make you seem desperate, another part of you considering stopping by a cafe or something to pick up a snack for Shoyo.

“I’ll be there in about two and a half hours, think you can survive that long without me?”

“I’ll try…” You pick at a stray thread on your comforter. “I miss you.”

“Me or my tongue?”

“You- Shoyo! No dirty talk while I’m in my childhood bed.” Which is a far step into hypocrisy on your part, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’m gonna be fucking you into that bed in a few hours so you’re gonna have to get over the dirty talk quick.” His voice lowers, triggering an ache deep in your belly.

“I’m hanging up. Text me when you’re like twenty minutes out, I’ll meet you at the train station. My brothers are already driving me fuckin’ crazy.”

“Yeah, siblings are like that.” He hums, so sweet and sympathetic. You can't help but scoff at that one. Because you and the twins from hell are very different from any normal set of siblings. “I’ll see you soon though baby.”

“Bye Sho.”

But now you have Shoyo, and you’ll fight tooth and nail for this speck of normalcy. It can’t be cowardly if almost everything that happened in the past should’ve never happened at all.

You hide in your room with the door locked and music blasting until the text you’ve been anxiously waiting for finally pops up on your phone.

Fell asleep, 10 mins away ;)

It takes only a few seconds for you to plan your escape route, dashing out of your room and past the living room where Atsumu, Osamu and the rest of their friends – including Kita and Suna – have settled no doubt for the rest of the night.

You hear someone call out your name as you throw open the front door, grabbing one of your brothers’ spare boards scattered on your porch.

It was far faster than walking and a lot less of a hassle than running to the train station. Even though you had vehemently denied to Shoyo that you could even stand on a skateboard in the first place.

You just didn’t wanna be called a poser by the campus skate rats or namely, Shoyo’s friend group.

That familiar mop of orange hair catches your attention immediately as you swerve through the crowd, stopping just before him and throwing yourself into his arms. Thankful that he catches you so easily.

“Baby you said you didn’t skate!” His eyes are lit up, shining so gleefully and it makes your heart melt into a pitiful puddle, cursing your past self for lying to him.

“I mean, I can't do any tricks or whatever but I can get from point A to point B.” You cup his face in your hands and peck his lips, smiling sweetly back at him.

Before you can move away he catches your hips with a firm grip, smashing his lips against yours, a shameless display of public affection. Something you’ve grown happily accustomed to because of him.

“Shit I know what we’ll be doing for the rest of summer then.” His voice lowers, eyes flooding with an insatiable hunger that you’ve missed in the less than a few days apart. “Besides all the fucking.”

“You’re relentless.” You gasp, a faux scandalized lilt in your words.

“I just love your pussy.”

“We’re in public!” Your hands fly up to cover his mouth, squealing when he laps his tongue across your palm. Giggling you wipe your hand across his shirt and intertwine your fingers with his as you pick up the board. “Let’s walk, more time together, less time with my brother and his friends.”

“You really don’t like ‘em huh?”

It’s not a matter of dislike, it never was. It’d be a gross oversimplification of a tumultuous situation. But it’s easier for Shoyo to think that’s what’s going on, safer.

“They’re just too much, and loud.” That much is true.

“I’m ‘too much’ and loud.”

“Yeah but you’re cute.” Emphasizing the statement with a playful nudge of your shoulder.

“Glad to be your favorite skater.”

“Don’t tell any of them that. They might riot.” And by they you mean Atsumu, while the others will throw you and your boyfriend scathing looks and disparaging comments.

The walk back is filled with mindless chatter, most of it is Shoyo telling you all about the Sunday you were gone, and how he and Kageyama got into a fist fight over some sweet bread but obviously he had won without a single scratch.

At first you didn’t care much for his tendency to get into physical fights with his friends, but after witnessing one you realized it was more about screwing around than anything else. Nowadays it was funny to hear about and funnier to witness.

It’s bliss to be lost in conversation with Shoyo, heartwarming, unadulterated bliss. You could almost forget about how the two of you are walking into trouble, almost.

“So. This is the rumored boyfriend.”

And fuck if it isn’t one of the worst ones to greet you two first. Though you doubt there was really a good, let alone, decent choice.

“Suna Rintarou.” He states, his usual bored tone and expression, eyes narrowing as he stares down Shoyo.

“Hey! Hinata Shoyo!” Your boyfriend beams back, immune to icy, disdain ridden stares courtesy of Kageyama and Tsukishima.

“Are you leaving?” And maybe you sound a bit too hopeful if the twitch in Suna’s eye is anything to go by.

“Nah out here for a smoke.” He holds up the unlit joint between his fingers. “Wanna hit?”

He doesn’t have the decency to even look you in the eyes, blatantly dragging his gaze up and down your figure before settling at your chest. You feel Shoyo lean a bit more into you.

“Pass, Sho needs to meet my parents.”

“They’re still out.” His posture shifts, defensive, almost like he’s trying to tell you two to get lost. Which is bullshit considering it’s your house.

“Okay? He still needs to put his stuff away.” With an eye roll you drag Shoyo along, tossing the spare board back into the pile, waiting for Shoyo to do the same. You suck in a deep breath as you pause at the front door.

Quickly you try to mentally prepare for whatever is waiting for you behind it, and with a sharp dig of your teeth into your lower lip, you push it open.

“Hello.” You would’ve walked right into Kita if it weren’t for Shoyo curling an arm around your waist and pulling you back. Watching as Kita blocks the doorway with his slight frame and unwavering demeanor.

“Hi, excuse us.”

And of course he doesn’t move, head tilted slightly as he sizes up the man behind you and all this male posturing is starting to give you a headache.

“Kita.” You hiss through your teeth.

“Shin-nii.” He has the audacity to try to correct you, because if there’s something your brothers and their friends have an abundance of, it’s the fucking audacity.

“Move.”

“Pfft, it’s okay baby. Hey, Hinata Shoyo.” The pet name makes Kita’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you can’t help the bit of smugness that swells in your chest.

“…” He’s clearly still picking apart Shoyo, annoyance flashing in his eyes before he shoves down any trace of emotion once more. “Kita Shinsuke.”

Apparently it’s enough for him to move out of the way and allow you and Shoyo to enter. And the real show hasn’t even begun yet.

You don’t even get much time to recover from that little hiccup because there stand Atsumu and Osamu, arms crossed with less than pleased expressions.

“Hm.” Osamu hums.

“You’re short.” You're about to throw something at Atsumu or maybe just punch him outright. There’s a torrent of insults on the tip of your tongue ready to be hissed, but again Shoyo settles you with his hand pressing against your lower back.

“Yeah I get that a lot, especially since two of my friends are like six foot.” He’s got his best smile on, flaunting how clearly unaffected he is by the unnecessary comment.

Atsumu, clearly displeased by the lack of angry reaction from either of you, looks like he’s ready with another rude comment to spit out.

“Anyways nice meeting you but i’m reaaaaal tired so let’s talk more at dinner yeah?” He’s pulling you along, right past your brothers and your heart threatens to pound right out your chest.

The two of you stumble down the hallway, playfully shoving at each other. The awkwardness and annoyance from before instantly dashed from your memory as you herd Shoyo into your room and slam the door shut behind the two of you.

“Holy shit I can’t believe you just did that, you just-” His lips are on yours, backing you against the door as his hands force their way under your shirt. Callused fingers massage into heated flesh and you can’t help the moan that slips out.

“Sh-Sho they’re all just outside.” His lips are ghosting over your own, each breath he exhales swirling into your lungs. It’s intoxicating, addicting. By god you want more but…but…

“Then we’ll have to be quiet huh?” And it only makes it all the more tempting. But if there’s something that’s been proven by the men occupying the space outside is that they have no problem disrespecting boundaries and personal space even with the door locked.

“See that word.” You opt to kiss his cheek instead, trying to send the message that the two of you won’t be going any further. “Definitely not in your vocab.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him.” You groan, trying your hardest to not roll your eyes or just straight up leave the room. “And I like him.”

“And I don’t care.” The venom in his voice is starting to sting, even after all these years of trying so desperately to build up the immunity.

“Atsu-nii.” You plead, hoping the approach of the pitiful little sister will be enough to sway him.

“Quit with the puppy dog eyes.” Osamu finally opening his mouth, the statement followed with a curl of his upper lip.

“Please, give him a chance.” You double down, praying that for once in this lifetime they’ll let you be happy. “For me.”

“Nice try baby, but I don’t fucking like him. So end it.” You wince at the pet name, and fight back the stinging of tears at how cruel Atsumu’s tone is.

“In your goddamn dreams.” It slips before you can even think, and honestly it’s a bit cathartic to say. You were just about to head to bed, but of course your brothers decided it was the best time to corner you and interrogate you about your relationship post-family dinner. So who can blame you for what you say next. “Mom and Dad adore him, and you know what? I’m in fucking love with him!”

“Haven’t you only been together for like three months?” Osamu quips, still dawning that disgusted look.

“Yeah right, we’ve been fucking around for a lot longer than that.” It’s the widening of eyes quickly turning to narrowed looks of contempt and disgust. It makes your chest burn and ache, tears threatening to spill.

You’ve never felt more disgusting, so tarnished and used.

Your body moves before you can even bother to think twice, your instincts trying to save you from this painful conversation. Taking you towards your safe haven, towards him.

“Get back here, hey fucking brat we’re not done talking. Get your ass back here.” Your brother’s voice tears down the hallway, you think briefly of the times you would’ve folded. Dragged yourself back towards the two of them with your tail tucked between your legs and a plethora of apologies on your tongue.

Not now though, not ever again. Not when you’ve finally found a you that doesn’t require them.

Just Shoyo, only Shoyo.

You waste no time practically kicking your door open, slamming it behind you and locking it. Surging forward you trip over your feet and barely catch yourself on the bed.

There’s a moment where you hesitate, he looks so peaceful, so sweet in slumber. But the bile rising in your throat and the ire piercing through your chest has you tugging off the covers and shaking a toned arm.

“Let’s go out.” Your words are muddled in your own ears, wrought with betrayal and exhaustion.

“Huh? Out where?” His voice is thick with sleep and his eyes are barely open. He looks like an angel, the epitome of perfection and safety.

“Anywhere, everywhere, I don’t wanna be in this house Sho, c’mon.” The tears spill over and you tug harder at his arm and you know it’s selfish to wake him up at nearly three in the morning but you just need out.

“Okay hold on baby, hold on.” He flops out of your bed, pulling on a hoodie and grabbing a pair of jeans out of his duffle. Without any questions he drapes himself over you, peppering your face with kisses and wiping away any trace of tears.

The front door, or any actual exit from the house is a no go. Atsumu and Osamu are no doubt skulking around the corners of the house, sitting in wait to start another fight.

So your window is the best bet, and after perfecting a somewhat graceful escape route from it, Shoyo and his insane athletic abilities easily follow suit.

“How about a hotel?” He suggests as you walk hand in hand down the street, debating whether or not the two of you should just hop on a train and head back to your campus apartment for the night.

“Then we have to pay.” You sigh.

“I don’t care, as long as I finally get to be alone with you. I’ll pay whatever.” It makes a flurry of emotions erupt in your stomach, crawling into your chest and lodging itself in your throat. You could kiss him, should kiss him. So loving and kind and perfect, cut from an entirely different cloth than all the other men in your life.

“Well there is um, a love hotel not too far.” And while you hadn’t made use of it before, you were made aware of its existence when you had to help Osamu drag a shit faced drunk Atsumu out of there.

“Love hotel? Baby, what did you used to get up to?” There’s no trace of judgment , just a dash of amusement and curiosity.

“Oh shut it, it’s ‘cus of my stupid brother.” You whine, knocking your head lightly against his shoulder.

“Yeah I’m gonna be honest they’re starting to really piss me off, ‘specially cus they made my baby cry.” He coos, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush against him. That same warmth that always follows him quickly fills your entire being.

With a faint memory of how to get to the aforementioned hotel, you pull him along, the two of you enjoying the quiet streets and brisk air.

It is admittedly, not your first time at a love hotel. Nor your second or third. Those numerous mistakes made with Kita and Suna haunt you – even if you can’t really find it within yourself to truly regret any of it – but it is your first time feeling so nervous at one.

You watch quietly as Shoyo chats up the bored receptionist, heart pounding as you watch the keycard being placed in his hand. He turns to you with that infamous smile and your nerves are placated for only a moment as he strides towards you.

“M’lady, shall I lead the way?” He grabs your hand and brushes a kiss over your knuckles before intertwining your fingers. With a slight nod he pulls you along, almost getting lost twice but who cares? It’s finally just the two of you, and victory tastes so sweet.

He ushers you into the room, and with little ceremony pulls you against him before flopping onto the bed. You land on top of him, legs straddling his waist and hands on either side of his head.

“Wanna shower?” It’s a moot question, the two of you knowing there’s no point when you both fully intend on diving headfirst into utter filth.

On top of that you’ll just end up fucking in there later, why waste time changing locations.

“I have a better idea.” You whisper, sitting back on his thighs and letting your hands drag down his torso.

“Oh baby, it can’t be any better than mine.” He shoots up, nearly headbutting you as he flips you over.

He settles between your thighs, tugging off your pajama bottoms and underwear in one fell swoop.

You’ve always been thankful that Shoyo has never been one to waste time, always diving in head first. Proving it as he splits your legs apart and flattens his tongue against your inner thigh.

He drags it against hot flesh, purposefully avoiding where you want him most. You have half the mind to squeeze your thighs together to send the message of hurry the fuck up.

“Oh here baby hold this.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, handing it to you with the outer camera facing you.

“No, oh my god Shoyo, no.” His fingers are around your wrist before you can even try to hand it back to him.

“Aww c’mon it’s just for me and you, nobody else.” He pulls himself up until he’s nose to nose with you, eyes pleading. “Especially for when I'm missing you.”

After everything that’s happened with Suna, cameras in the bedroom were a huge no go for you. But this is different, he’s different, he’s safe.

He would never betray your trust.

“O-okay.” You choke out, as you angle his phone to better capture the two of you. “Nobody else Sho.”

Because if your brothers weren’t on a hell path to kill you and Shoyo now, your shitty sex tape being leaked would be as good as signing your death certificate.

“Good girl.” He peppers kisses along your jaw and up to your temple, mumbling praises into your skin. “Always so good for me. Good to me.”

He slinks back down the bed, retaking his rightful place between your thighs and eyes flooding with hunger once more.

And although his expression reads of a man starved, achingly wrought with impatience. He never backs down from an opportunity to be a damn tease, emphasizing the sentiment by barely ghosting his fingers over your aching cunt. Smirking as you whine in annoyance.

He continues his sly ministrations, poking and prodding and sending you further and further towards insanity. Your own voice foreign to your ears as you beg so desperately a whine slipping out as he finally delves his tongue between wet folds.

Yet you find yourself still so painfully aware of the phone heavy in your hands, trying to keep the camera focused on the two of you, but the temptation to simply toss it to the side is biting at the back of your tongue.

“You’re distracted.” He pouts, hooking his fingers on your nape and pulling you into a sloppy kiss. “Let’s fix that.”

And of course his definition of fix is to shove two callused fingers into you, pushing and curling perfectly. It burns so deliciously, that familiar lustful ache licking up your cunt and settling deep in your belly.

“Too much, too much!” You’re whining, knowing full well it’ll do nothing to sway Shoyo. Knowing you’re lying when he’s conditioned you to love every filthy thing he does to you, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how hesitant you may be.

“Show off to the camera baby, lemme see you.” He manages to bat the hand you’ve been hovering over your face out of the way, all while abruptly shoving a third finger into you. “Look at the way you're taking my fingers, squeezing me so bad. Love this slutty pussy.”

He pumps them faster, smashing his thumb into your clit, it’s like a dart through your chest and fuck you’re gonna cum already.

“Shoyo- it’s too mm, you need to…ah s-slower.” Your heart in your throat you try to beg sweetly, there’ll be no reprieve if you cum now. And he’ll only take advantage of how painfully oversensitive you’ll be. “Please?”

“You said it first, babe.” The smirk on his lips is dizzying, intoxicating, it spells out your certain doom. “That word ain’t in my vocab.”

He grazes his teeth over your nipples, a slight catalyst that’s just enough to send you careening over the edge forcing fireworks to burst behind your eyes and a throbbing in the back of your skull.

Soft kisses bring you back into the moment, still splayed out wantonly beneath him and for a moment you’re foolish enough to think he’ll actually give pause.

Instead he takes his phone from your loose grip, focusing it on your twitching cunt. He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you let yourself take a second to brace yourself.

Because no matter how much time and care is dedicated to prep, Shoyo’s cock remains to be the heaviest, thickest, monster of a dick to ever grace your poor, poor pussy.

You’ve always wondered if the term ‘coke can cock’ was created just for him.

He’s kind enough to ease himself in, letting you squirm and relax and take him at your own pace, broken little moans encouraging him to keep going.

“Feel so fucking good wrapped around me, here keep it like this.” The phone is back in your hands, Shoyo positioning you to rest your wrists on your stomach and angling it perfectly.

Your heart slams against your rib cage, he’s gifted you with the perfect view of his cock splitting your pussy.

It’s dizzying, addicting and your hazy mind makes a note to give him the best head next time for changing your mind about phones while fucking.

There’s a temptation to let your eyes flutter shut, to revel in being taken apart so delectably. But you can’t help but zero in on the screen, watching such a beautifully pornagraphic scene take place.

“Oh, ah.” Any possible statement muddles against your tongue, eyes rolling back. Shoyo’s phone slips from your fingers, landing on your stomach and sliding onto the bed.

You hear a snicker as you try to find purchase on the wrinkled sheets beneath you. Desperately fisting the linen as he takes you apart with each thrust.

“Aw, why are you grabbing the sheets baby? I’m right here.” His fingers trail along your forearms as he slots your fingers together and drags your hands above your head.

The motion forces him in deeper, a lewd sound somewhere between a moan and a whine rips through your throat. You swear to whatever gods that you can feel him practically breach your cervix.

“I’ll get lonely if you keep doing that.” He whispers against your throat, chasing his words with sloppy kisses and filthier promises.

Carefully — most of all sexily — he manages to pin both of your wrists with one hand, the other quickly locating the discarded phone.

You watch as his gaze drags down your body, the camera following his path as he languidly thrusts into you. Completely unphased by the way you’re shaking beneath him, whimpering and begging for him to give you his full attention.

“Sho, Sho please, please, I need it, please!” You hear his phone fall against the bed once more, too preoccupied to bother grabbing it. The obscene symphony of skin against skin no doubt being captured anyways. “Ah!”

“Say it, c’mon say it.” He growls under his breath, the rhythm of his thrusts turning savage, taking and taking.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Said like a prayer, so sweet and rich and heavy on your tongue.

It’s damning, it’s a blessing.

Each utterance is a desperate plea to stay right here, beneath him, filled with him.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” His voice is low, the vibrations of his chest thrumming against you. “Only mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours, yours, yours- hnnn I’m, I’m-”

Silence, followed by the sound of your heart threatening to burst out of your chest and expose your very soul to the man before you.

“So fucking good for me.” Followed by the delicious feeling of your aching pussy being pumped full by him.

Fucked out, naked and tucked against Shoyo’s side, while a deep slumber drags you under leaves you so blissfully unaware. Unable to intervene as Shoyo grabs your phone and looks through your contacts, picking out the four numbers he needs and transferring it to his own.

Who knows when you’ll find out – or if you ever will – that he put himself into a groupchat with them, and sends the very video he promised was for no one else’s eyes but the two of you. He taps out a few words, the smirk on his lips undeniable as he sends the message.

She’s my little fuck toy now.

He pauses, looking back down at you. He could definitely get used to this. And it’d be a shame if he didn’t get to witness the fallout.

Get used to it fuckers.

[mitsuyasangel]

the hunt - frat boy!atsumu/f!reader (haikyuu!) tags: not NSFW but not NOT NSFW if that makes sense, inspired by this art by @/hlxtn, mentions of alcohol, typical frat party debauchery, college!au, greek system!au, reader is in a sorority, atsumu has a lip piercing and is a whore, making out, heavy petting, graphic depictions of graphic depictions, gratuitous headboard knocking, this atsumu makes me want to scream, word count 3k

The brief is simple: a scavenger hunt of sorts. 

It’s just a bit of friendly competition between you and your fellow sorority sisters, not unusual for the chapter president and the upper ranking sisters to orchestrate. At 8:00PM on the dot, everyone received a joint text message with a list of items to retrieve or tasks to complete to earn points—for tasks without a physical trophy, a simple photo as proof would do the trick—and once the clock strikes midnight, the participants who've managed to scavenge the most points would be the winners, and those with the lowest points would face a forfeit.

And finally, throughout the night there would be bonus points come up for grabs in the form of special challenges.

Like the one currently lighting up the screen of your phone. 

(11:00PM) INZ hookup - 100 points for a pledge, 500 points for pres, 250 points for everyone else. (11:00PM) Current ranking: 12/25. 1 hour remaining.

“How far are we from the Iota house?” you ask, leaning forward against the restraint of your seatbelt and gripping the headrest of the drivers seat in front of you.

“A couple blocks,” your friend (and fellow sorority sister) behind the wheel says in confusion, “why?”

You and a few of your closest friends had wandered out that night to amass points together. You were all doing pretty well, but according to the rankings that are sent out every half hour, none of you have even broken the top 10. 

And now there's only an hour left.

“Go there next,” you say decisively. 

“Are you nuts?” another sister smushed into the backseat with you squeaks, “hooking up with an Iota is…”

Practically a death sentence. At least socially. You all know it. 

To call the boys of the INZ frat run-through would be a disservice to the word. Their reputation among the other greeks is NOT one to be trifled with. The boys themselves, beyond being philandering, are more than a little rough around the edges. They’re known for starting fights (and finishing them) and save for their chapter president Kita, and a few standouts among the brothers, they’re not generally considered the shining gold standard of Greek Life. The Iotas are the direct cause of more than a few of the sanctions your university has imposed on the Greek system in recent years, even against Kita's best efforts to keep them in line. 

But still, that many points may just be too gleaming of an opportunity for you to pass up. 

There’s a party in full swing when you pull up to the INZ house, because it's a Friday night so of course there is.

“Do you see anyone else here?” you ask your friends as you step into the fray, raising your voice to be heard over the pulsating music rattling through the house. You’re all wearing shirts with your sorority’s greek letters on them, so any fellow sisters should be easy to spot, though you can’t make any out from where you stand near the door.

“No,” one of your friends says, pressing close to your back to avoid being run over by a few passing partygoers chasing after someone in a hoodie with a quart of rum tucked under his arm. “Hey, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Of course it’s not. But the last time you lost one of these little challenges you were stuck vacuuming the entire sorority house for two months, and you weren’t eager to experience it again. 

“How much time is left?” you ask, pulling your cellphone from your pocket. 

11:12 your screen reads.

“Around 45 minutes,” your friend confirms what you know to be true once you see the time on your screen. Your eyes scan the party, landing on a figure on the edge of the crowd in an INZ hoodie with a red solo cup in his hands.

And a terrible, horrible, perfect idea comes to mind. 

You unlock your phone.

'Claiming this task!' you type as you cross the party, leaving your friends behind. 

The President replies immediately to your claim.

(11:15PM) Which Iota? 

You send your answer without a second thought.

The boy in the INZ hoodie doesn’t see you coming as you sidle up beside him, so when you put a hand on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and crane up on your tiptoes to get close to his ear he stiffens slightly in surprise. 

“Hi,” you say into his ear to be heard over the music blaring through the crowded house, your fingers twisting into the material of his sleeve, “you don’t know me, but I really need a favour.”

And that’s how you end up in Atsumu Miya’s bedroom in the Iota Nu Zeta frat house, standing on he opposite side of the room as he sits perched on the edge of his bed.

“Yer tellin’ me ya want me to pretend to fuck ya?” he asks, a brow quirked under the band of his backwards cap. “All fer some… bet?”

“It’s not a bet,” you correct him (not for the first time), “it’s a scavenger hunt.”

“And I’m the thing yer huntin’?” he's teasing you now, and you know it. 

“It doesn’t have to be you,” you huff, your lips pursing, “and if you’re gonna keep wasting my time I can go ask—“

“Now wait a minute,” he interrupts you before you can even dangle the threat before him, “now that I know yer trying to cheat the system, whose t’say I don’t send a text of my own to that pretty little president of yours and tell her what yer schemin’?” 

“You wouldn’t,” you say, your nose crinkling up in irritation. 

Atsumu grins, and the piercing on his bottom lip catches in the light of the lamp that sits on the table between the two twin XL beds in the tiny, untidy room. You assume he shares it with his twin brother, though you really don’t have much to base that assumption other than the fact you know he has one. The room is a bit neater on the side Atsumu is not sitting on, so you infer that Osamu is also the tidier twin between the two of them. 

“Nah, I wouldn’t,” he laughs, “I kinda like seein’ ya play dirty.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You guys always seem so…” Atsumu goes on, waving his hand in the air vaguely. 

“Rule-abiding?” you offer. 

“Stuck up,” he corrects you. 

He’s not necessarily wrong for thinking it, even if it does irk you. Your sisterhood is one of the more reserved greek chapters on campus—elite even, if you dared to say it. Sure, the scavenger hunt you find yourself partaking in that evening might not seem it, but the fact of the matter is that you guys aren’t inherently morally superior to any of the other greek houses - you’re just better at not getting caught. 

Something that seems utterly beyond the Iota brothers. 

Which is exactly why you need it to be him.

“Are you gonna help me or not?” you finally ask, sighing warily. 

“What’s in it for me?” Atsumu counters your appeal. 

“I’ll give you all my precal notes ahead of the midterm next week.”

Atsumu furrows his brow. “We’re in the same precal class?” he asks. 

Your expression flattens. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” you grit out, “which you might know if you didn’t spend every class napping.”

“Wait…”—he purses his lips, eyes scanning over your face—“we have a midterm next week?” 

You feel something throb palpably behind your eyes. 

“Yes,” you manage to get out even though your jaw is clenched firmly shut. "God you're hopeless."

"Yer awfully rude for someone who's tryin' to use me fer my body," Atsumu says, smirking when he sees the way your expression shifts into one of even further annoyance at his taunt. He leans back on his bed, resting his weight on his elbows. “So, what do I have to do here?”

“Just… take your shirt off and take a picture with me in bed with you,” you say, though it physically pains you to say the words. To have to stoop so low.

He quirks a brow mischievously. “Oh, ’s that all?”

“And keep your hands to yourself,” you tack on pointedly.

Atsumu snorts, lifting his hands in innocence.

“You got it, princess.”

Just as Atsumu shifts his weight forward, and his hand reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his hoodie, your cellphone jingles. 

You reach for it, and see that it’s a message from the sorority president. You unlock the device to reveal the message.

It’s a picture of a door.

The very door you presently find yourself behind.

Another message pops up in the chat.

(11:29) Recruited a bit of backup! You’ve got a little crowd waiting for proof, just to be safe ;)

And then another.

(11:30) Current ranking: 15/25. 30 minutes remaining.

“Fuck,” you mutter, miserable at the turn of events - and your drop in the rankings.

“What’s wrong?” Atsumu asks. 

“There are people out there…” your voice drops quieter, your eyes flickering over to the door on the other side of the room. “Waiting for… proof.”

The information seems to process slowly in Atsumu’s brain, and his eyes widen as the facts click into place. 

“Ohhh…” he trails off. “They want a real show, huh?” 

“Sorry for dragging you into this,” you sigh, “it was stupid, just forget I-“ 

Atsumu catches your wrist in his hand, tugging you forward before you can step away towards the door in defeat. You peer down at him as you stand between his parted thighs, confused.

“I never said I couldn’t give ‘em one.”

Your face flushes.

“Don’t be stu-“

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says, letting his grip on your wrist fall, “we just gotta get a bit more… creative about it ’s all.”

You chew on the corner of your lip. 

You really hate vacuuming. 

“Alright,” you muster your resolve, offering him your hand for a handshake.

“And ya owe me all your notes right up until the final,” Atsumu tacks on, just before he clasps your hand in his. 

You huff, closing the distance between your palms and taking his hand in a shake. You can’t help but notice how much larger his hand is than yours. 

“Fine, whatever.”

Atsumu is… frighteningly good at putting on a show. 

He turns out the lamp on his bedside table so there’s no light peeking out from the crack under the door, he turns on music like he’s trying (and failing) to drown out any possible noise that might make it out, and he rocks his sturdy bed frame into the wall in a steady, unmistakable rhythm. 

“Hey,” he grunts out on a particularly hard knock of the wooden frame against the wall, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Ya gotta make some noise, y’know. Yer gonna ruin my rep.”

“What do you mean?” you whisper back, still standing frozen just beside the bed, more than a little awkwardly. 

“Y’know, moan or whatever,” he hisses back. 

“I can’t do that!” you snap.

“Yeah fuckin’ right,” he mutters, and you have half a mind to smack him. But before you have the chance to, a strong arm circles your waist and pulls you down. 

You squeak in fright. “Atsumu!”

He has you pinned underneath his body before you know it, practically nose to nose with him, his hands returning to their place on the headboard to give it another knock against the wall. 

Your eyes have adjusted to the dimness in the room since he turned out the lamp, and you can make out his features even though it’s dark. He’s smirking, that little silver hoop at the edge of his lip caught between his teeth. 

“There ya go,” he snickers, “just like that.”

“You told me you’d keep your hands to yourself,” you mutter lowly.

“Sacrifices must be made,” he shrugs, and gives the headboard another loud, incriminating knock. 

It’s preposterous the situation you find yourself in, pinned underneath Atsumu god damn Miya of all people. Pretending to fuck him. 

How the hell did you end up here?

“Ow,” you complain quietly when a particularly rough knock makes the back of your head hit the headboard. 

“Shit, sorry,” Atsumu mutters. He slides an arm underneath your back. “Here.”

He grunts, flipping the two of you over so you’re straddling his waist and he’s the one against the headboard in his tiny little bed. His baseball cap falls off in the scuffle, leaving the strands of his blonde hair loose. 

“’S that better?” he asks. 

It’s not actually, because this feels a hell of a lot more compromising than it had a second before. 

“Ya just gotta push against the headboard like this,”—he takes your hands in his, guiding them up over his shoulders to grip the wooden bed frame, pressing them back until it knocks into the wall—“see?”

“Okay,” you murmur, still a little dazed from the sudden role reversal, repeating the motion. 

You go slower than he had as you get the hang of it, distracted by how close his face is to yours. How you can feel his breath against your mouth. 

It smells like spearmint gum and cheap beer. 

You lick your lips. 

“This more the pace you like?” Atsumu asks, smiling crookedly as he remarks on the tempo you’ve set, his hands settling on your waist. 

“Watch your hands,” you snap quietly, and his touch retreats as you stretch back as far as you can from him without losing your grip on the headboard. 

“You’re still bein’ pretty quiet,” Atsumu comments. “You really gonna make me do everything?” 

“What do you-“

“Ohhhh, fuck.”

Atsumu’s moan is so loud that it startles you, and you let go of the headboard to slap your hand over his mouth in surprise. He grunts a little as you pitch forward, your palm muffling the sound. 

“You tryin’ to win this thing or not?” he asks you pointedly once you pull your hand away. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, acutely aware of the fact you can feel the slickness of spit on your palm, “you just… surprised me.”

He hums. 

“I’d say we’ve probably sold it at this point anyway,” he says with a little sigh. “As long as we go back out there lookin’ a bit scruffy, no one’ll know.”

You chew on the inside of your mouth as you mull over his words. 

“What?” he asks, noticing your hesitation.

You swallow, reaching up and touching the side of your neck. 

“You should give me a hickey.”

Atsumu’s eyes go as wide as saucers. 

“Yer jokin’.”

You shake your head. “It’s like… incontrovertible proof right? It’s not like I could give myself one.”

His eyes search your face for any sign of deception. 

“Ya don’t seem like the type who’d let someone mark ya.”

“I’m not,” you say, suppressing a shiver as his pointer finger loops under the neckline of your t-shirt, tugging it gently to the side. “You seem like the type to leave marks, though.”

Atsumu leans forward and chuckles, his breath is warm against your throat.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

Atsumu’s mouth is hot as it descends upon your pulse point, lips closing around the skin.

“Oh,” you gasp, your hands tangling in the blonde’s hair without thinking as he sucks at the sensitive part of your neck. His own hands have settled on your waist, and this time you don’t tell him to remove them.

“Atsumu,” you whimper as his teeth scrape over the skin he’s been suckling against, making you dizzy.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs into your throat, his hands slipping up under the hem of your t-shirt where his fingertips meet skin.

You don’t say anything.

Atsumu flips you over, and this time there’s nothing deceptive about the way the headboard knocks into the wall. 

His hands are still up your shirt, his lips still on your neck, and your legs wrap themselves around his waist as you writhe against his bedsheets. 

“D’ya know why,”—Atsumu interrupts himself to drag his teeth along the edge of your jaw—“I was so shocked we’re in the same class?”

You shake your head minutely, your fingers twisted into the material of his hoodie over his chest. You watch his lips part in a smile, eyes fixed to that little piercing again.

“Because I’ve had a crush on ya since first year,” he murmurs, “and if I’d known ya were there, then I wouldn’t of been nappin’.”

Atsumu kisses you—finally—and you can’t help the sound that slips out of you at the feeling of his lips slotting against yours.

His mouth tastes like spearmint and beer.

His piercing presses gently into your lips as his part against yours, his tongue slipping forward to taste you too.

His hands grab at anything and everything they can reach. 

Somewhere distantly, you feel you’ve played right into his hand. You recognize that you weren’t the only one who had been scheming tonight.

On Atsumu’s floor, your discarded cellphone lights up with yet another missed message. 

(11:45PM) Proof received +250 points

(11:46PM) No idea you had it in you LOL

(12:00AM) Final ranking: 2nd place

You don’t see the texts until much, much later.

[mitsuyasangel]

𝐃𝚬𝐕𝚰𝐋𝚰𝐒𝐇 𝚨𝚴𝐆𝚬𝐋

♱ — starring : draken & mitusya

♱ — collection : kinktober masterlist

♱ — synopsis : the biggest halloween party wasn't supposed to end with you having a threesome with the two most desirable men on campus.

♱ — length : 3.2k

♱ — warnings : 18+ mdni, face fucking, tit fucking, gagging, finger sucking, fingering, slight voyeurism, use of “angel”, slight choking, double penetration, dubcon anal, creampies, slight overstimulation, they get a little rough, costumes

♱ — notes : wrote this with my pussy (also let's ignore any bed height semantics for the sake of plot) (i think i blacked out while writing this too)

you limited yourself to two drinks for the night to prevent any stupid decisions. but that didn’t seem to work. in the end, you weren’t thinking with your head. two pairs of hands roamed the expanse of your body. in the sea of drunk, dancing college students the only thing that mattered was the two bodies pressed against you. the one behind you, draken, leaned down to speak in your ear but his eyes were on mitsuya in front of you. “why don’t we get out of here,” draken said, the rumble of his voice lighting a fire under your skin. 

mitsuya came as a vampire, fake blood “dripping” down the left side of his mouth. it wasn’t a very intricate costume, which was disappointing. you’d thought he’d make his own and not wear some cheap store-bought one like ninety percent of the people at the party. you thought a more gothic vampire look on him would have been nice. draken came as a greek god, but you weren’t sure which one. he wore a toga secured by a fake gold ring at his waist, a laurel crown decorating his head. maybe he wasn’t a greek god, but just some guy from ancient greece. it didn’t really matter, though, not when it suited him so well. it left little to the imagination. 

distracted by what they were wearing, you hadn’t realized how far they had led you into the variety of costumes, ignoring the gawking that was inevitable with the twin dragons. between the blaring music reverberating in your bones and draken’s steady hand on your waist, it was amazing your feet were still under you. 

the walk from the frat house to their dorm went by in a haze. the only thing you could focus on was the hammering beat of your heart. the two of them fell into an easy conversation, laughing and joking with you sandwiched between them. draken slung an arm over your shoulders while mitsuya let his wrap around your waist. you couldn’t focus on their conversation for all your effort, nerves twisting your stomach. they didn’t force you to join in, nor did they make you feel unwelcome.

at the door to their dorm, draken turned towards you, mitsuya leaning against the wall and eyeing you kindly. draken grazed a finger along your jaw, a soothing back and forth motion. “you don’t have to do this,” he said, holding your gaze. “if you want to back out, you can.”

“at any time,” mitsuya added. 

“i want to do this.” the words came out with more confidence than you felt. nerves mixed with excitement to the point it became hard to tell which emotion was what. just the idea of what would happen when you walked through that door was enough to have your panties soaking. 

the two men grinned at each other. “we won’t go easy you, angel,” draken said. mitsuya snickered at the pet name. with that, they tugged inside. 

mitsuya’s lips were the first ones to meet your one. he pulled you flush against his body. featherlight fingers trailed down your spine, sending goosebumps sprawling down your arms. his fingers trailed lower, lower, until he was palming the fat of your ass and pulling you harder against him. at the closeness, you couldn’t mistake the bulge pressing into you. you moaned instinctively into his mouth. 

by the time he pulled away, you were in one of their rooms. the fake blood beneath his mouth had smeared, some of it probably on your face. your lidded eyes taking a cursory glance at your surroundings. mitsuya’s hand cupped your jaw, three fingers resting on your pulse, and guided your eyes back to his. his thumb ran over your wet lower lip. “such a pretty mouth,” he whisper, mostly to himself.

“getting some ideas?” draken asked, coming up behind you. you could hear the smirk in his voice. he wrapped a loose hand around your throat, a silent command to mitsuya to let you go, and lifted your head to look you in the eyes. his eyes were dark, intense, lighting a fire deep inside you. “let’s see what that pretty little mouth can do.” 

at some point on the way to their room, you had ditched your heels, only realizing when draken pushed you to your knees in front of mitsuya, who was already halfway done taking his cock out of his pants. your eyes were fixed on his cock, his hand stroking himself. your mouth watered at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

he tapped the tip of his cock against your lips. you parted them and took him as far as you could. you fought the gag when he hit the back of your throat. it was awful but something about it made you want more of him. you were going to start up your pace when he threaded his fingers through your hair, grasping the back of your head, and moved your mouth up and down the length of his cock. you gripped onto his thighs to steady yourself. tears pricked your eyes at his harsh thrusts, hitting the back of your throat each time. lewd gagging filled the room. 

from somewhere beyond your field of vision, you felt draken’s piercing gaze. you didn’t have to see him to know his eyes were devouring you with every passing second. it lit your skin ablaze, sending a shiver over your body in anticipation. you wanted to know what he felt like too. you needed to know. 

“fuck,” mitsuya hissed, tossing his head back. his grasp on your head tightened, pulling at your hair. “she’s a devil, man. no angel would let you use her mouth like this.”

“it’s the innocent looking ones that are crazy,” draken said. and then he was crouching beside you. he fingered the thin strap of your black dress. “you like being used like this, don’t you?”

you attempted a nod. draken smiled at your effort. his eyes landed on the top of your head, hand reaching up. he took the headband with devil horns off your head. even with mitsuya’s hands in your hair, you’d forgotten you were wearing it. heat rose to your cheeks. your costume had been simple and cliché. after all you hadn’t planned on going to the party but ultimately relented when your friend begged you to go with them. the same friend who pointed out the twin dragons eyeing you for a good portion of the night. and encouraged you to go over to them. but it was the twin dragons who approached you in the end. sweeping you away for the most insane night of your life.

“leave the horns on,” mitsuya breathed. his hips were unrelenting, hitting the back of your throat again and again. your jaw ached. saliva ran down your mouth. tears welled and spilled. and yet--you wanted more.

“you hear that, angel? he wants to leave the horns on.” draken placed the headband back on, grinning down at you. he glanced at mitsuya before returning his gaze to you. “let’s move this to bed and make it interesting. i wanna see how far this angel can fall.” 

mitsuya pulled his cock out of your mouth, and you almost whined at the loss. draken pulled you up to your feet as he stood. his hands slid around to your back and unzipped your dress. both men helped slip the dress off your body, eyes devouring every bare inch of your skin. there was something almost humiliating about being the only naked person in the room. like you were on display for the sole purpose of their enjoyment. and maybe you were. the idea made the fire in you ignite even hotter. 

heading toward the bed, mitsuya tugged you along with him. he sat on the edge and perched you in his lap, pulling your legs up so they were spread as wide as possible. draken came to stand in front of you, between mitsuya’s legs. he was quick in tugging up his toga and bearing himself to you, stroking his thick length. 

you were so focused on draken’s movements you hadn’t realized mitsuya’s fingers were slowly sliding up your thigh until he was spreading your pussy. he dragged his middle finger through the wetness, stopping just shy of your clit. 

“you’re so quiet,” mitsuya said, nipping your ear with his teeth. “tell us what you want.”

forming your reply was hard when all you could focus on was the area mitsuya was pointedly ignoring, your eyes absently looking at draken fisting his own cock. but you forced the words out. “‘want you.”

“who do you want, angel?” it was draken that time, a teasing tone in his voice.

“both.” 

mitsuya peppered kisses on your shoulder. “where do you want us? here”--he dipped the tip of his finger into your pussy--“or here?” the fingers of the hand not playing with your pussy shoved their way into your mouth.

it was all you could do to nod in response, a desperate whine muffled by his fingers. truthfully, you wanted them anywhere. everywhere. as long as they were touching you, filling you, it didn’t matter. you wanted to say that you didn’t fall victim to their enchantment like every other girl on campus, but you were no different from them. always silently pining after them. fantasizing about them one at a time and together. never had you thought it’d become a reality. and now, with them in your grasp, you just wanted them to fuck you in anyway they wished. 

in front of you, draken clicked his tongue. he pinched your nipple harshly. your back arched on instinct, moaning at the pleasurable pain. “you’re gonna have to beg for it, right, mitsuya?” 

“mhm. where’s the fun in just giving you what you want, angel?” it was the first time that night he’d used the pet name. the way the syllables rolled off his tongue, his breath brushing the shell of your, made your toes curls. an action draken didn’t miss. 

he stepped closer, taking your tits roughly in his hands. your focus snapped entirely to him, doe eyes peering up at him. something in his face said he wanted more of your attention. he placed his cock between your tits and squeezed them together. and then he was thrusting his cock between the mounds of flesh, an unrelenting pace to match the grip he had on them. you could look down and kiss his tip if mitsuya’s finger weren’t in your mouth. 

while you were distracted by the man in front of you, mitsuya sank two fingers into your pussy. the sudden stretch hurt, the muffled noise you made and the furrowing of your brows your only indication to them. mitsuya licked a stripe up your neck, drawing a gasp from you, the same moment draken said, “we told you we weren’t going easy on you.” 

your nails dug into mitsuya’s thighs as he massaged you from the inside. deft fingers that knew the right spots to have the muscles in your thighs aching already and foot nearly cramping from the way your toes were curling. of course he’d have skilled fingers, he was a fashion major. specifying in fashion design. how many countless hours had he spent hand sewing pieces, attaching intricate beads to final designs? those nimble fingers now had the sole goal to unravel you, reaching for that one spot deeper, deeper. 

mitsuya withdrew his fingers from your mouth and wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing gently on your pulse points. the next second his fingers hit that spongy spot even you had trouble hitting. the moan broke from you without warning. draken’s hands tightened on your tits, his thrusts quickened, spurred on by that sweet sound. pride swelled in mitsuya at being the one to elicit it, and jealousy in draken. he wanted to be the one to make you scream tonight, and his friend was beating him. 

how much longer could draken take of holding himself back? he almost regretted suggesting they share you tonight. it had sounded fun at first, but now he just wanted to fuck you into oblivion.

“easy,” mitsuya drawled. “you’ll rip her tits off if you’re not careful.” 

there was no doubt you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning. or even in the shape of his fingers. the night had only just begun and your jaw and tits were already sore. 

“swap places with me, mitsuya,” draken’s voice was stern, sending a shiver down your spine. mitsuya pulled his fingers from your cunt, leaving you empty. you fought the urge to protest, knowing what it’d bring you. 

they were quick to switch, draken taking mitsuya’s place on the edge of the bed. draken pulled you into his lap, face to face. his cock rested against his stomach. your heart raced, anticipation coursing through your veins. you so badly wanted to reach out and stroke him, but his hands were already sliding down your back, under your ass, and lifting you up with ease. he hovered you over his cock, placing the tip right at your entrance and not moving any further. 

“think you’re ready to take us both at once?” draken drawled. the moment you nodded, opening your mouth to speak, he lowered you onto his cock. the stretching of your walls forced a gasp out of you.

“‘s too big,” you cried, fingers digging into his forearms and eyes squeezed shut. 

“too big?” he mocked. he grabbed your jaw with a large hand, a silent command to look at him, which you obeyed. “i saw the way you were drooling over the sight of it, don’t tell me you can’t take it.” 

you sniffed. he was right. this was what you’d wanted all night. just moments ago you had been excited at the thought. you shifted your hips causing him to hiss. you felt him against every inch of you inside. it felt exactly the way you thought it would. “i can take it,” you mumbled. 

“good,” mitsuya said from behind you, his fingers danced over the skin of your ass. and they were gone just as quickly. you cried out at the sudden stretching of your asshole. mitsuya stroked your sides soothingly. “sorry, angel. it’ll feel good soon, just relax.” 

you nodded, fighting the tears threatening to spill. two holes stretched more than ever before. pain warred with pleasure. draken leaned back on his elbows, hands wrapped around your thighs, and gave an experimental thrust. his cock dragged deliciously against your walls. mitsuya was slow to move his hips, pulling back and gently easing in again. it was a different feeling from what you were used to, and you probably wouldn’t have tried it under different circumstances, but he made it feel so good. 

they spent the next few minutes letting you adjust with long slow strokes. and then ended their small mercy. their thrusts synced up, finding a ruthless rhythm. your moans drowned out their sporadic grunts and groans of pleasures, the slapping of mitsuya’s balls mixed in. 

through the haze of your pleasure, you looked down at draken. his eyes were transfixed on your bouncing tits, the skin still red from his earlier treatment. 

draken gave a particularly rough thrust of his hips. your face head tossed back, expression melting as a drawn out moan met his ears. “you should see her face right now,” he said to the other man. “god, she’s amazing.” 

“why do you always get the best view?” mitsuya said, teeth gritted and the grip he had on your waist tightening. “c’mon, angel,” he crooned, “look at me.” 

using draken’s chest as support, your turned your body to look at mitsuya. your eyes were glassy, lips parted to let your moans stream freely. 

the flurry of sensations as both their cocks dragged along your walls in tandem built up, your legs shaking with your impending orgasm. draken swore as your pussy clenched around him. he scooted further to the edge of the bed, allowing him more room to pound into your already abused cunt. your body bowed instinctively at his new angle, your orgasm washing over you. 

mitsuya lifted a leg onto the bed, deepening his own angle. you didn’t think it was possible but their pace was even faster. it wasn’t even their own high they were chasing, but yours. seeing you fall completely apart at their hands was all they wanted. 

the strength in your arms gave out as your first orgasm waned and the next one approached. you collapsed onto draken’s chest, one cheek pressed to his. your fingernails dug into his biceps, he’d have deep crescent shapes marred there for a while no doubt. 

jealousy flared in mitsuya at the sight of you clinging to his friend. he wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled you up. he pressed his mouth to the top of your head. “don’t act like he’s the only one here.”

“maybe she just likes my cock more.”

mitsuya’s hand left your hair and moved to your jaw. “whose cock do you like more, angel? his or mine?”

you shook your head as much as you could in his hold. your mind was too foggy to think of an answer. on top of that, you didn’t want to answer it. both of them felt good. it was hard to tell them apart when they were both inside in you. not to mention, you’d hurt one of them if you answered. but in truth, you hadn’t had enough time with either to decide. 

“c’mon,” draken said, squeezing your thighs, “give him an answer.”

“don’t know,” you cried, pussy spasming with your next orgasm. “‘s too much,” you sobbed, every stroke sending your body trembling. 

“hold on a little longer, angel,” mitsuya spoke into your hair. the hand on your jaw loosened. “we’re almost done. right, draken?”

“fuck. yeah, just a little more.” his hands tightened on your thighs. his thrusts were getting sloppy, as were mitsuya’s. 

mitsuya came in your ass with a muffled moan, pressing his nose into your hair. draken followed suit not long after, filling your still spasming cunt. 

your breathing was heavy, body relaxing against mitsuya as much as you could. draken’s hands stroked your thighs. your legs shook, feeling like dead weights. 

mitsuya was the first to pull out. draken lifted you and slipped his cock out. their cum oozed out, mixing together. mitsuya watched it from his position behind you, reveling in the fact he had the best view for once. 

draken sat up, holding you to him and kissing your forehead as your body started calming. there was a shift in the air of the room, like tension dispersing. their little competition, a bedroom persona, ending and lifting. 

“take it easy, beautiful,” mitsuya said, patting your head. “i’ll get you some water, and then we’ll get you cleaned up.”

“next time,” draken whispered against your forehead, “say something when we get too rough. it’s ok, we don’t want to hurt you.” 

“i don’t mind,” you said, meaning the words you spoke. “i liked it”

he laughed, a low rumbling sound. “we’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

[mitsuyasangel]

all you girls try to be saints, i’ll make you wanna sin

♱ Desc: A battle of who can make the other more jealous ends in a much, much more exciting way.

♱ Pairing: Plug!Eren x AFAB reader

♱ Content Warning: Unestablished relationship, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, spit, thigh fucking, choking, biting, hair pulling, manhandling, cream pie

♱ Word Count: 5473

a/n after months i’m finally bringing back plug!eren bc i randomly got the motivation to write. i’ve been trying to write him again for a while so i really hope u guys enjoy bc this mf has me stuck. title is from oddlook. give it a listen ;)

wattpad | ao3

The low hum of your favorite song plays softly through the bedroom. A scented candle lit and filled the room with the aroma of citrus and basil. Along with it, wafts the faint scent of marijuana. The wind blows in through the open window, shouts of children playing below and music coming from the neighbor's garages blare into the room. Past the window, the sun is setting into the horizon while the moon readies itself to shimmer with the stars. Brisk air rushes once more, hitting the bare skin on your thighs as you smooth your dress out in front of your full-length mirror.

“How does it look?” you ask softly while twirling and checking yourself out. Peering over your shoulder, you wait for a response from him. Erens eyes skim your body as he sits in your velvet pink chair, legs kicked up onto the matching ottoman. An arm hangs out the window, joint attached to his nimble fingers. His other is thrown over his head, running his hands through thick brown locks.

Perfect, he wants to say. He doesn’t know why you’re even asking. The little black dress hugs your body perfectly, sweetheart neckline scooping your plump breasts, gold hoops, and a matching initial necklace adorning your chest.

Christ, he mumbled under his breath. You looked just so good to him. Eren wanted to take you right then and there, work his fingers magically into you, split you open with his ring and middle, rubbing that spongy spot inside you. His thumb circles your clit, lips on your neck, licking and sucking violet bruises into your skin. You’d be crumbling in his hands. Shaking and moaning, scratching his back, and pulling his hair. Your hair is a mess, your makeup is ruined with tears, and your dress torn. Eren would think you were the most beautiful of all still.

“Good.” is all he says.

“Just good?” you look over your shoulder, head tilted back and brows furrowed in uncertainty. Eren watches as you pout at him, a fresh set of burgundy colored stiletto nails playing with your necklace.

His eyes drag across what you’re wearing once more. The dress was short, your ass was hanging out and if you were gonna dance the way you always did, you were going to give everybody a perfect view of your panties. He didn’t like that one bit. He knew what people said about you, how many people wanted to be with you.

“Man, if I could fuck around with that piece of ass.” Porco would mummer under his breath, hungry eyes eating you up as you danced with a friend. he’d nudge Eren, giving him a toothy smile that made him want to knock his teeth in.

“Fuck off, Porco.”

“What? If you aren’t gonna fuck her, I’d gladly do it.” Porco throws his hands up defensively, chucking and mumbling something Eren couldn’t hear.

If only that asshole knew how Eren would make you feel. How you were in the backseat of his car just an hour ago, ass in the air as he pounded into you. Hands holding your hips, and nails piercing your skin. He’s grunting, you’re moaning and skin is slapping skin.

“Why? Are you trying to look nice for someone at the party?” Eren snorts, lip twitching and curving into a smirk. The way his tone makes you wonder if he’s trying to get something from you, almost like he’s jealous.

The smirk on your rouge lips mirrors him, only growing larger into a smile from your realization, “are you jealous?”

Yes, he was.

“Answer my question first.” his gaze averts to the window. Below a car passes and ashes fall from his joint. you’re quite speechless, watching as he brings his hand back into the room and takes a long drag from the joint.

You had no idea where this behavior was coming from. You also didn’t know whether it was something you liked or disliked. All you could do is scoff and roll your eyes.

“For your information…” you begin, taking a seat at your vanity to touch up your makeup, “I am not getting ready for anyone but myself.” you dab blush onto your cheekbones, “You have no right to be jealous anyway.”

Erens shifts in his chair, your comment immediately caught his attention. You keep your eyes glued to your figure in the mirror. The conversation had shivers crawling all over your body, goosebumps growing on your thighs and arms. There wasn’t an idea in your mind where it would go next.

“Why?”

A pause and you’re turning to face him. The look in his eyes is unreadable. Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Was he happy? He had a blank gaze and flat lips, there wasn’t anything to even read.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” A scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

There’s a long pause in the room. The space seems to shrink between your shared gazes, and the mixture of the lit candle and cannabis is making you nauseous.

Erens eyes narrow, turning away slowly with a lazy smile. You do the same, ignoring his presence to choose which perfume you’d wear tonight.

Though you don’t see him do so, you hear him. He's putting out the joint on your windowsill as you study the bottles. Swinging his legs over the ottoman, groaning lowly as he does so. You pick up a bottle. His steps are quiet, yet so heavy. each one seems to mimic your increasing heart rate. You spray each side of your neck. Honeysuckle and Vanilla. The steps stop, and you can just feel him behind you.

“Look at me.” With a slow shut of your eyes, you ignore Erens demand, spraying more perfume onto your wrists.

Eren wasn’t amused one bit. Rough hands cup your chin, pulling you - forcing you to look at him. His hands were warm and reeked of burnt weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, but Eren can read you like a book, knowing already that you were going to spit something so vulgar at him. He tightens his grip on your chin, hoping it’d prevent you from speaking. It does.

“I fuck you, right?” He catches you off guard. You wonder where the conversation was going but you didn’t want it to go wrong. This was the uncharted territory between you and Eren.

You nod, nostrils flaring.

“I make you cum too.” It sounds like a question, but it’s a statement. He makes you cum a lot.

You nod.

“And who buys you all this?” Thick fingers reach your necklace. He grabs the chain, letting it dangle between his finger.

You swallow hard, but there’s a lump stuck in the depths of your throat, “You do, Eren.”

He’s at peace with your answers, both hands falling free from you. However, his eyes are still glued onto you giving you a warm smile. Still, behind his warm smile is one coated in wickedness.

You can't help but feel yourself heat up. Warmth flooding your cheeks, ears, and chest. Warmth filling you everywhere. A pooling between your legs follows.

“I’ll be in the car.”

He leaves the room.

You're frozen for a while before turning back to the mirror. You fix your hair a little, adding one more spray of perfume to your nape.

–

It was a rare occasion for you to drink. Alcohol never sat right with you and it made you do things. The way it burns going down your esophagus falls into the acidic pit of your stomach and sets fire to the walls. It makes you do bad things. Dance till you drop, make out with one or two of your girlfriends, but the craziest thing you did was grow a relationship with a local drug dealer. Atop of that, you fucked him.

And it was good. It was so, so good. Alcohol never tasted better to you up until that night. On his tongue, as it massaged yours, transferring the taste of Hennessy onto your tastebuds. It was so addicting, you couldn’t have him for just one night, so you took him for more.

You took him in the car whether he was parked outside in front of a busy party or an empty parking lot. You took him on the couch in his apartment. His kitchen, bed, and your favorite place, in his shower.

Where hot streams of water would fall onto your sticky, burning skin. Hands grasping your waist just to flip you around and shove you into the wall. Eren was so aggressive behind closed doors and all you wanted from him was more. And Eren couldn’t deny his Princess, so he gave you all he had. He pulled at your roots, put you in a chokehold, he thrust so deep and hard. He did all for you.

You never felt so clean and dirty at the same time with Eren.

To think he was the one attracted to you first. Now, you can't explain your feelings towards the boy. All you knew is that like the spoiled girl you are, you wanted more. More than sex in his shower. More than his alcohol-infused kisses. More than his pungent aroma of marijuana and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue.

The flaw you carried with you was one you’d hated for as long as you can remember. That being an absolute idiot coming to expressing what you feel. Eren didn’t see that, he only saw you pushing him away.

“You look ill.” A concerned look on the black-haired girl flashes across her face. Lips downturned and thin brows clinging to each other as they furrow in concern. Mikasa inched closer to you to grab your attention, though the attempt was a failure. You’d been too angry.

Alcohol. The poison made you feel so many strong emotions, one, in particular, being anger. Anger because you were being ignored. Anger because Eren was flirting with girls because it’s “good for business”. Anger because he was left alone with them in a room.

“I’m…” You're annoyed, tired, frustrated. You were so much more but none of the words seem to pass through your lips. “Let’s dance.”

Mikasa is taken back. One second you were sulking around the stone fire pit and the next your nails were sunk into Mikasa's skin dragging her to the group of bodies dancing. She couldn’t help but smile at you. You were circling her, mouthing the lyrics of the song playing and moving your hands up her shoulders to wrap your arms around her neck.

It wasn’t long before you two were swaying your bodies together. Hands entangled with each other and your faces were close enough that the tips of your noses were touching. Time flew while the two of you danced, lost in each other’s spaces and engulfing yourselves in the music.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asks into your ear, lips brushing your skin. She smelled strong, like warm sugar and juicy red candied apples. If you weren’t so addicted to Eren and had a tinge of alcohol in your system, you’d eat her up right then and there.

It was the second time tonight she pointed out your discomfort. Although you were tempted to tell her the truth about the source of your irritation is Eren, you wouldn’t allow yourself.

Playfully, you blew air at her face. Black locks uncover her gray eyes and she blinks hard, “I’m ok, Mikasa.”’ You sigh softly, pushing hair behind her ear, “I just wanna dance with you.”

So that is what you did. You danced on the travertine patio of some random rich boy whose party you were crashing. The activity was usually fun for the most part. The excitement of sneaking in and pretending to recognize drunk faces. Then when they’d finally noticed, you’d run out as fast you could. The thrill was everything.

Today, however, isn’t like the previous times.

As you peek over Mikasa's shoulder, you glance at Eren who’s walking towards the stone fire pit you once sad at. Behind him trails a tall blonde in a brown halter mini dress. Her hair sways with each step she takes to sit on the armrest of the seat Eren had taken. Her breasts are in his face while she speaks to him and he stares intensely at the pair while taking a sip of beer. The sight alone made your heart beat, blood rushed throughout your body, and your fist clenched around Mikasa's dress. Eren catches the heated flicker in your eyes and smiles devilishly.

“Mika, Porcos here right?” She nods, confused as to why you're even asking, “Where is he?” She looks more confused. Your plan was plain and simple: do the same thing Eren was. Though he called his “business” you knew how he played, and this was a game.

“By the keg.” She points a dainty finger over your shoulder. Low and behold, Porco is conversing with men who were unknown to you. His hands flayed when he spoke and he raked his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll be back, Mikasa.” You're gone, leaving her to go back to the fire pit with Eren and his piece for tonight.

You push throw bodies, unfamiliar faces confused at who you were as you passed them and made your way to Porco.

“Hey, Porco.” You say sweetly, pulling his attention away from the men he was speaking to right to you. A dopey smile flashes across his face as he throws his hand to the back of his neck.

Nervously he calls your name, “What happened to dancing with Mikasa?”

“You were watching us?” You come closer to him. The two random men excused themselves as soon as they heard your flirty tone.

“How can I not.” His jaw tightens as he studied your expressions. He’s resting the waters with you seeing how you’d react to his flirtatious remarks. His attraction towards you was obvious, though you never played into it up until tonight. Tonight he’d be fun to play with.

Smiling gently, you push closer to him, “I got bored.” You looked up at him through your long lashes. He smelt your perfume, becoming entranced by the scent of it as the sight of your breasts pushed against him, “I wanted to speak to you too.”

Porco was good-looking. He was tall, built, had great hair, and had an attractive face. He just knew all about it. Bragged about girls and his skills. It wasn’t your thing, but for the time being, it would be.

“You wanna play with me today?” He brings his face down to yours, using his beer to lift your chin. You couldn’t help but notice how bad his flirting was, laughing at his words. He didn’t know. He’d assumed you were laughing with him, not at him.

“Should I not?” You play along with him, wrapping a hand around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You always talk about how good you are.” His hand finds its way wrapping around your waist, inching closer and closer to your ass, “I want you to show me.”

“Only for yo-”

His words are cut short and you're pulled away from his grasp. Another pair of hands wrap around your wrist, stealing you from the blonde.

“Oh, Porco, man!” Eren. He shouts, throwing a hand and gripping Porcos shoulder. He shakes him while the grip on your wrist tightens, “I’m sorry, but I gotta take this monster home.” He shrugs, eyes lidded but burning holes right into Porco.

Before you or Porco can say another word, Eren is gone, dragging you away from him and the party. You try to fight his grasp and keep your comments quiet in case you hadn’t caused a scene enough at the party.

“Let go, Eren.” You wiggle from his grasp but he is just so much stronger than you, “Eren, c’mon, stop being a little bitch!” Finally, you yell at him, smacking him lightly on the shoulder as soon as you're far enough from the crowds.

He stops, doesn’t turn your way, nor does he speak. He just stops his steps, stands on an empty sidewalk of the suburban neighborhood hood, shoves his hands into his pockets, and continues walking.

Your heart pounds against your chest watching him walk away. Chest rising and nails sinking into the skin of your palms. How could he be so calm? It made you feel so angry. A different kind of anger from before, one couldn't easily explain.

“Are you coming or not?” Eren calls out from the side of his car. His hands were still shoved into his pockets.

“No.” You say sternly, crossing your arms.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly at you. Then he laughs and gets in the car. The engine starts and the car rolls down to where you stand and stops.

“Stop acting like a child and get in.” His arm is out the window waving you down to get on, the other on the steering wheel. You ignore him once again. Quite literally, acting like a child while not even looking his way.

“Get in, you look stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, Eren.” You’re looking at him now, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

“Get in.”

“I can get a ride.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you within dishealved locks, clicking his tongue, and shakes his head lightly again. He laughs. He’s high. “From Porco? That idiot just wants you for what’s in your pants.”

In the end, you cave in. Entering Erens car just infuriated you more. He was quiet, he didn’t say anything once you sat on the leather seats of his E30. You expected more from him about you messing around Porco. Maybe an explanation about the blonde. Nothing. He said nothing.

“That’s fine, Eren.” You speak softly and he begins to drive out of the neighborhood, “I don’t care if Porco wanted me for what’s in my pants.” Still, he doesn’t say a thing, “I wanted to fuck him.”

As you watch him, he clenched his jaw and his knuckles grip harder on the wheel. Then when you’re stopped at the red light, he revs the engine of his car. When it’s green, he speeds off. You poked the bear. He driving recklessly. Exceeding the speed limit, making sharp turns, and braking hard. He continues this throughout the drive to your apartment. Once you arrive, you jump out of the car, slamming the door as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to hear a thing from Eren.

Truly, you didn’t mind fucking Porco but you never were going to go through with it. You said what you said to get a reaction from Eren and you got what you wanted all along. You always did when it came to Eren.

Once you enter your apartment, you kick your heels off. Looking over your shoulder at the brunette getting closer to the door. When he just barely reaches the entrance, you slam the door in his face.

He’s quick, swinging the door and walking your way with force. He scares you, making your skin crawl once he grabs ahold of your face with one hand.

“Get your hands off me!” You speak incoherently from the pressure he’s applying to your face. With that, he lets go, grabbing your arm and dragging you into your bedroom to force you onto the bed, “Get off.”

“You don’t get to act like a brat after what you told me.” He hovers over you, keeling and keeping a knee between your legs to separate them. Your dress rides up, exposing your black lace panties. His hands hold your wrists in place on either side of your head.

You looked delectable to him. He saw that you were afraid, never seeing this side of him. But you also had some fight in you left, you weren’t gonna cower down soon. Though, especially, he saw that you were excited.

The way your chest rose, your nose was scrunched, your eyes glossed over, and the burning heat from your cunt against his knee. A wet patch grew on the center of your panties and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Really? I cant? Not even after you and that blonde bitch?” You spit out, teeth grinding against each other in a condescending tone, “I bet she fucked you so she can get seven grams with a discount? I know how you like smoking chicks out, you did it with me.”

The look in his eyes was purely dark. He was readable, so extremely readable. A once beautiful set of turquoise eyes is now dark. They're dark as a forest of evergreens. He gave you a look of wanting to ruin you.

“Don’t be so jealous, Princess.” He lowers himself so that his face was inches from yours, pushing and rubbing his knee against your cunt, “I didn’t smoke her out as I do with you.” A smile pulled at his lips as he watches you begin to rut your hips against his knee. And although you were angry, the itch and need to relive the throbbing at your pussy was much more important to you than yelling at Eren.

“D-did you fuck her?” You whimpered out as the rutting of your hips sent waves of heat throughout your body and your thighs began to ache from the work alone.

“Why would you care? I’m not your boyfriend.” He’s so close to your lips now. You pathetically attempt to kiss him, but he dodges your lips and watches as you embarrassingly rut your hips to reach completion. It wasn’t close to enough though, you needed more of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Something more.

He feels bad for you, you tried but failed horribly at standing up to Eren. The craving you had for the boy was intense and it needed to be treated immediately. But this time, he was punishing you and he wasn’t gonna give it to you that easily.

“Look at you,” Finally he lets go of your wrists, getting up and leaving you high and dry on your silk sheets. And christ what a sight you were to him. Chest rising high, tits nearly spilling from your sweetheart neckline, and your dress cinched and just barely above your crotch exposing your cute little black panties with a bow. He couldn’t resist you. He wouldn’t.

“Get on your knees.” He spits out, watching over you like some god. And even though your mind told you not to cave in more than you already have, you continued to get on your knees. Eren watched as you struggled with weak legs and arms, becoming more and more impatient. Eventually, you were positioned perfectly.

“You’re beautiful like this.” He growled, “So fucking beautiful.” He exaggerates each word, smoothing over the soft skin of the back of your until reaches the globes of your ass. He squeezed hard, shoving you forward and into the mattress.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to speak coherently to Eren. Almost all five of your senses were Eren. From the corner of your eyes, you see him leaning over you and admiring you. His voice is low and raspy while whispering sweet yet poisonous comments into your ear. Eren smells of his cologne. His intoxicating, clean fresh cologne and his weed. Calloused hands run up the arch of your back and press down, making your ass stick higher in the air. But you couldn’t take him.

He wouldn’t let you, and all you wanted was him in your mouth. You needed to taste his spit on your plump lips. You had a craving for his saliva on your tongue.

“How bad do you want it?” Eren asks, pushing your dress until it’s just below your bra.

“Bad.” Whiny and breathy, you rock your hips back to meet Erens crotch. Through the rough material of his jeans, you shimmy your ass on his hard cock. “So bad, Eren.”

With that, he lets go. His hand snakes around your neck and the other gets a brutal grip on your hair, pulling your head back. You whine from the stinging at your scalp. It hurt, but the pooling between your legs said otherwise. Once your face is off your sheets, his hand squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips pucker. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing his pointer and middle down on your tongue so you’d drool over the length of them. He pushes farther, making you gag and your eyes brim with tears, ruining your makeup. Eren laughs darkly.

“No one can make you feel as good as I do.” He rasps, his fingers still messaging your tongue and making you gag as his other lets go of your hair to undo his belt. The jingle alone makes you jump, goosebumps crawl all over your body, and your cunt drips.

You shake your head. No. No one can make you feel as good as Eren.

A string of saliva falls past your glossy lips once Erens fingers leave your mouth. He groans at how soaked his fingers are from your mouth. His other hand comes back to your head pushing you into the mattress again and the other releases his cock from his briefs. Fuck, he utters under his breath once he wraps his hands around his aching cock.

Your breathing is restrained, nearly choking from the face full of bed sheets and Erens forceful behavior. You’re aching everywhere for him, but especially your cunt. Releasing the balled-up sheets from your hands, you slowly inch one between your legs. Pathetically, you reach for your throbbing clit but your finger isn’t long enough.

Eren shakes his head, hair messy and falling from the hair tie, “You need help, Princess?” He coos, almost mocking your whines and begging for relief from the ache between your legs. You nod eagerly.

“Words, Princess.”

“Please, Eren. I-I need you so bad.”

Eren is breathing heavily, pulling you closer to him and peeling your panties off. Under the moonlight, your cunt glistens with slick and pulsates for him. With his cockhead, he rubs your lips, spreading them to toy with your clit.

“More, please, just fuck me.”

“Be patient.” So you try to be. You let him play and tease you for a while. You let him stick his dick between your thighs, and fuck them. Wetting his length with your juices as he barely catches your clit with each slow thrust. He groans lowly with each stroke and each little noise you make.

And for your patience, he rewards you. His cock-head passes through the first ring of muscle. You’re welcoming him so well that he shoved himself inside you and that you let out a sharp yelp once he does. Your cunt wraps around him with intense heat and your gasping and groaning at his harshness.

He watched you below him. How you catch your breath, your knuckles turn white from the tight grips you had on your sheets, but your back arch’s more for him.

“Hard,” You speak softly and breathlessly, muffled, “go hard.”

Eren would cum at just that. Though he wouldn’t before he broke you. He nearly pulls the entirety of his fat cock out of your cunt, just leaving the tip inside, then forces himself back into the warmth of your pussy. He is slow at first but harsh, teasing you because he knows how much you like it rough. His hand roams the arch of your back, pushing hard. The other wrapping around your neck, squeezing hard. Then he’s fucking you. Fucking you hard.

He rammed his hips into you at a fast pace. His cock fills your walls and tip fucking your cervix. Your senses were heightened each time Eren slammed into you. Your moans are so lewd and loud, his grunting so animalistic. The oak legs of your bed scratched the floor and your bed frame hit the thin walls of your bedroom from Erens aggressiveness.

You're sore from him already. From the slapping of his thighs on yours and calloused hands all over your body. But you didn’t mind. You loved all of it. You loved all Eren gave you.

“I only fuck you like this,” He rasps between each thrust, “This pussy only takes me like this.” Slamming, slapping, groaning. Your mouth is dry as you breathe hard, gasping for air as Eren's hand squeezes harder around your neck.

“J-just you, Eren. Only E-eren can.” You say it softly, but you doubt he couldn’t even hear you.

Erens lost. He’s in a daze and living a dream of being in your pussy. Fucking you so deep, that he completely loses himself. Strong arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you to his chest with his cock still in your cunt, but thrusts paused. One arm stays at your waist, holding onto you until his fingertips bruise your tender skin. The other snakes to your neck again, gently but roughly, he puts you in a headlock and begins the rhythmic slamming of his cock into your pussy once more.

You panting like a bitch in heat, clawing at Erens waist to gain balance. Though his force is too much. He's fucking up into you like a beast. Grunting and muttering the sweetest yet disgusting praises into your ears. The soft hoodie he kept on is your only source of softness. His lips brisk from your neck and your ear and he bites down on your lobe. You’re a moaning mess when his lips suck the supple skin of your neck, only to bite down till he breaks a layer of skin. The belt lying above his knees scratches your skin, and his hand finds its way up to your stomach. Pulling your bra cup, he frees your tits, messaging them and pinching your nipple.

With one harsh thrust, Eren pushes you back into the bed. You’re limp, letting him use you like a fucktoy. Your throat is raw from moaning so much, from calling out F-fuck, Eren. Right there, Eren. Mmm, harder, Eren. You wouldn’t be surprised if your landlord came to visit you the next morning. Either way, you couldn’t care one bit.

The build-up Eren was giving you was amazing. So painfully amazing.

His hands roamed to your hips and held you in place for a couple of seconds until one came to rub your clit. You lost your mind at that. Whining louder from his thick, long fingers rubbing delicious circles onto your throbbing clit and his tip fucking your cervix nice and deep.

Your entire body filled with warmth and your joints turned into gelatin. Eren breathed harshly through grinding teeth feeling your walls cave in on him. The pulsing of your cunt added to his pleasure so did the rise and fall of your back.

“Squeezing me so fuckin’ good, Princess” He spits out, “You gonna cum, hm?”

Out of breath, yes’s fall past your lips. Raw, raspy yes’s.

“Yeah, yes, Eren.”

With Eren, your orgasms were never just one knot snapping. It was multiple. Multiple knots snapping at an unexplainably fast speed with great intensity. So with one more snap of his hips. That’s what happens. Those knots snap, and you’re gone. Moaning, yelping, whining, screaming. You’re gushing all over his fat cock you don’t even notice the mess you make on him and your bed sheets.

A panting, worn out, hot mess you were. Legs trembling and wet from your juices. Eren's thrusts became sporadic as he came closer to his high from the sight of you squirting all over him.

“F-fuckin’ hell, Princess.” He moans lowly, “Dirty-fucking-slut,” He accentuates each word with a hard, tired-out thrust. He smacks your ass, squeezing the globes to pull you back to him once more. He cums. His big, cock shoots and stuffs you full of his cum. Moon-shaped marking and pierced into the skin of your hips from his grasp, red and nearly purple from his strength.

You’re quiet besides your painting, no longer able to say a thing, no longer able to move. He broke you just like he wanted to.

Eren keeps his cock inside you, reaching out to grab a handful of your hair, he turns you. His other hand moves your hair out of your face and wipes a glob of tears away from your mascara-stained eyes. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He’s sweaty and his cheeks are rosy from leaving his hoodie on.

Once more, he thrusts himself into you. Stuffing you full of his cum and not letting a single drop fall. He watches as your face contorts. Wet lips fall, eyes roll back, and nose scrunch.

“Only I fuck you this good. Remember that, Princess.”

[mitsuyasangel]

❝Summer Days Passed, When Jean Kirstein Loved Me.❞

Among these pages you shall find ...

eighteen plus materials; minors do not interact + female reader + forbidden love + period appropriate gender roles/clothing/skills + reader with a backstory + mentions of arranged marriages + love at first sight + unrequited love + loss of virginity + masturbation + oral (giving and receiving) + period appropriate slang + general regency era customs and traditions + some angst.

Length ...

20,016

Before you read ...

Hello dearest reader, before you dive into this fic I would like to mention the obvious inspiration from Bridgerton (the show) as well as more specific regency era customs so, before you reader please consider taking a lot at the grimoire which will provide some further background information as well as a glossary for some terms used in this fic, it will be found linked in a reblog which will also contain my tag list as well as a playlist you can listen to whilst reading! To additionally preface this fic does exist in the same universe as my Prince Sugawara fic as such there will be some spoilers for that fic. I do hope you enjoy as this is my pride and joy, another testament of my love for my friends and this au I've created <3

❝You too often longed for more out of life, dreaming of the day when you no longer would be a prisoner in your own home. Perhaps after one fateful day, a knight assigned to keep you safe, and a bounty of dreams, maybe your life would change and you could fall in love.❞

Living life in a bubble was no way to live life at all.

But the King and Queen of Gardenia didn’t seem to view your predicament that way. How could they? You were their daughter and they loved you more than they loved anything else in life. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months you realized that you were trapped. Within the four walls of your bedroom was everything you had, forbidden to step out into the courtyard, or even allowed to eat dinner with the rest of the castle’s occupants.

A prisoner in your own home.

“Mother, I do not understand why I can’t just come with you!”

You broke on your Wednesday morning tea with your mother. Frustration boiled over as your mother spoke at length about the upcoming coronation taking place in the Kingdom of Pastoria. You so desperately wanted to join in the festivities but your mother didn’t seem to feel the same way. She shot down your dreams before you even had the chance to fight for them.

She was always good at keeping up a stone wall, her brow barely quivered as you slammed down your cup, tea sloshing over the rim and onto the pale yellow table cloth. Then again she was used to your outbursts and weathered the storm while your father left for another room, pretending like nothing ever happened at all. That was how they dealt with everything but never spoke about it.

“You know why,” she sighed, placing her cup back onto its saucer, “It’s much too dangerous for you to leave the castle let alone travel. You know this.”

That was their excuse for everything, that it was dangerous. In their eyes, you were nothing more than a precious piece of porcelain to keep safe, not a human with wants, with dreams. Merely a decoration to sit on their mantle, pretty and perfect.

Their secret.

“How am I meant to be a leader if I’m made to spend my entire life as a shut-in?”

Your mother sighed, resting her palm against her temple. Every conversation you had with your family always seemed to circle back to this topic. It was inevitable and unavoidable. You were restless in your plight, trying to claw your way through the miles of locked doors in your way.

“It’s not safe for you to leave. Not after everything that’s happened,” your mother said, rising from her seat, “You know that dear. We do this because we love you.”

Leaning back into your chair you huffed, fingers drumming against the arm, “A parent's love does not make up for their child’s suffering,” you sent your mother a pointed look, “You may not see it but I may as well be locked up in those dungeons you claim to be unused.”

“I’m not in the mood for your dramatics,” your mother huffs, placing her cup onto its saucer, “You know what happened in Camellia, to their daughter, what kind of mother would I be if I allowed the same to happen to you!”

“I’m not her!”

The anger that festers inside you makes your skin broil, leaving you uncomfortably hot beneath the layers of clothing your sport. Your nails dig into the palm of your hands, tearing at the flesh from how tightly your fists are clenched. You’d never under the rational or the fear your mother felt and though you were sympathetic, you were ready for life. At twenty years old, you’d never done anything unless it was under the watchful eyes of your mother and father, every part of you ached for something more, craved to feel the sun on your face and the grass on your feet but no amount of begging and pleading would break them.

They were the true stone walls, cold and unmoving. No comfort to be found in their rigid embrace, their resolve forever unchanging.

It was maddening.

“I will never be her,” your groan, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes. Cursing under your breath you tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling, “I am no longer a child, Mother, please just try to understand.”

If you gazed upon her sullied expression you might have broken, given in as you did every other evening when this very argument broke out.

“If you need me, I’ll be in my quarters.”

As a child, it wasn’t so bad —you had cousins, other children within the royal court too, all of whom you’d sneak around with. Childlike wonder and a keen sense of curiosity only possessed by the purest of minds kept you from seeing the true scope of your predicament. Then, you hadn’t understood how heavily iron-clad doors weighed, it was all a game and you were intent on winning. The thrill of sneaking below the radar, and poking around all the rooms off-limits was enough to keep you sane until that too went away. Some were married off and others had an early start to whatever duties they’d be raised to fulfil and though you tried to understand as your youth dwindled to a past memory, you still felt betrayed as you were the only one left captive between the stone walls of your castle.

The burden of being a princess only seemed to grow as you had aged— you began to understand why a canary lost its will to sing when trapped between metal bars when you found yourself to be nothing more than a prized bird expected to put on a show.

Though, the fire within you dwindled you never did stop pushing for your freedom. To be nothing more but a downtrodden animal was a future you would never allow yourself to have, not when you dreamt of drinking in all the sweet elixir the world had to offer.

They avoided your gaze as you trudged through the castle halls, you could feel it, the pity that most felt when they laid eyes upon your woeful expression. Those occupying the castle grew used to the screaming matches you had with your parents, though they’d deny any knowledge of it if you asked. Rather than offer any amount of reassuring words or even a shoulder for you to rest your weary head upon, you were met with stone pillars who crumbled when your eyes met for a moment, too afraid of the king's wrath to do anything more than meekly watch as your dignity was chipped away.

Your handmaiden offered you a smile when you stumbled through your chamber doors, silently brushing past you with a basketful of soiled linens to wash. A soft breeze billowed in through the window, with it carrying the saccharine tendrils of spring. With a forlorn sigh, you make yourself comfortable on your window seat, the layers of your skirt dramatically swishing and puffing up around your frame. In the courtyard below you catch sight of the latest recruits fresh from Pastoria’s knight academy, they bumbled around in their chain mail, unused to the weight of it on their bodies. You couldn’t stop that laughter that bubbled up in your chest, it’s not like they could hear you from all the way up here, giggling as the bald one stumbled forward, taking down several other knights with him. The laughter stopped when you caught sight of a taller one, light brown hair brushed to the side, yelling at the group for goofing off. He was cute, you thought, though it startled you. Cute, your cheeks grew hot as you watched him run his fingers through his hair, one hand on his hip as the others struggled to compose themselves.

You could hear their laughter ring out, it was boisterous and filled with glee. They pay no mind to their friend scolding them. They simply brushed themselves off and continued to play around for as long as they could. The one with the long brown hair tackled the bald one to the ground once more in what you assumed to be a fit of lighthearted payback. Dirt and dust fly up around their bodies as they tussle on the ground, carefree. The other two that had fallen shuffled aside, the two men brushing off the dirt and trying to rid themselves of the grass stains that soiled their brand new uniforms. He has golden hair, the shorter of the two and has to all but restrain his friend from chewing the others out or perhaps from joining back in on the shenanigans. Even from all the way up here, you could see the mischievous glint in his green eyes but you didn’t focus on them for long. Like magnets your gaze settled back on the tall one, watching the way his muscles grew taut beneath the meagre white tunic he sported.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, the knight turned to look up at the tower where your window resided, using his hand to shield his eye as he scanned the brick wall ‘til he landed on you. Ducking down you held in a shriek of shock. Time and time again, you were told it was unbecoming to spend your time gazing mindlessly out the window, still, you found some comfort in others' joy. But, to have been caught was unthinkable and by a knight nonetheless. Slinking away, you hoped you were able to salvage enough dignity, though you supposed there was nothing dignified in crawling along the length of your chamber floors in shame. Sighing to yourself, you laid flat against the sleek hardwood floors until your heart has steadied and the heat in your cheeks faded away.

But, you could not rid yourself of the dopey smile that stuck to your berry-stained lips. The corners of your mouth no matter how you tried, remained upturned at the thought of being noticed. Whether intentional or not, you were noticed by someone and though the thought of your parents scolding you remained an ever-present worry it felt good to be noticed.

For whatever reason, on that day while you watched the world pass by as you did most hazy afternoons someone looked at you for whatever reason he did. You might have called it fate if you were in particularly bright spirits though you knew if you confided that sentiment in your only friend, Lady Historia Reiss, she’d have guffawed at the mere suggestion. Historia didn’t believe in fate or magic or any of the childish lies you told yourself so you wouldn’t lose hope. But today, you’d like to believe that by some miracle someone didn’t look away but rather, they looked towards you.

Though the circumstances thrust upon you were less than ideal, you’d do your very best to remain upbeat by losing yourself in the romance novels your mother deemed too frivolous for you to read but you did it anyway. Biding your time with fantasies that made your heart race and your cheeks filled with heat was better than staring at the bleak four walls of your bedrooms.

And, fantasy was too often better than reality.

That much you learned when wisps of freedom began to slip through your fingers as you age. Though that was not why you tore into every novel you could get your hands on, was because real true love was hard to come by and when it did, it was always fleeting.

Historia fell in love once— barely fifteen and as quiet as a mouse, she had yet to truly understand how cruel the world could be. A chance meeting with the castle's private blacksmith led her to meet Ymir, the girl who’d steal her heart. You remembered how giddy she had been on those rare evenings when the two of you had a chance to roam the castle unchaperoned, her cheeks were round and red, her sky blue eyes practically filled with stars. But she aged with you, and when she aged she realized that it was difficult to be with the one her heart longed for and the sneaking was not romantic, it made Historia sad.

Still, she let soot-covered hands run through her lemon-coloured hair and kissed all the callous’ and scars that littered them despite the lingering scent of ash and copper. As the youngest of the Reiss brood and an illegitimate one at that, she already had endured so much. To bring pride to the Reiss name, is all she longed for and so though her heart belonged to Ymir she made her debut into society when she was barely eighteen.

Declared the diamond each season since her debut, she was yet to find a suitor worthy enough of the Duke’s daughter.

So, on the rare days, the two of you met, Historia didn’t take kindly to the enamoured prattle you’d spew. The stars that made themselves home would fade one day just as they always had, Historia was sure of it. Still, you rest the palm of your hand upon your bosom and let out a sigh.

Tomorrow you’d call for her and hope she’d be content sipping tea while gazing upon the lawns perhaps so you could get another glimpse of the knights.

When night had fallen and the next morning had come you had been summoned before the sun had even begun to rise. Your handmaid barely had finished lacing your corset before she was ushering you to the throne room where the entire court had gathered before your parents. Straightening your spine, you keep your chin pointed upwards as you carefully tread across the plush velvet carpet. Standing off to the corner was the group of knights you spotted the previous afternoon. They looked even younger up close, their expressions wobbly and sweat beading beneath the layers of clothing they sported, their swords looking entirely too large no matter how tall they were.

Offering your parents a brief curtsy, tucking your hands behind your back as you wait for them to address you. At the beckoning of your mother, you rest upon the steps leading up to their thrones, smoothing the layers of your skirt down to ensure you reflected the mirage of the prim and proper woman that your governess raised you to be. Your mother's lace gloved hand strokes your cheek, drawing your eyes to her.

“How did you sleep dearest?” she questions, tilting your chin up to examine your face for any blemishes, “You missed dinner last night, you must have been tired.”

Swallowing, your force a tight smile, “I slept well, thank you, mother.”

Your father clears his throat, commanding that all eyes fall upon him. His presence is intimidating, you feel uncomfortable beneath his lifeless gaze but you learned long ago that to quiver beneath his gaze was to be undeserving of the crown which laid on your head.

“Your highness,” you mutter, dipping your head into a slight bow.

“As per your mother's mention, it has come to my attention that you feel constrained under the rules we set in place when you were a child,” your father states, though it sounds like a question you know that it is not, “After some careful consideration, I agree with your discontent.”

You perk up and nearly lurch forward in shock. When you were called down to the throne room this morning you could not have imagined that this is what your parents wished to discuss; your freedom.

“Since, you’ve reached the mature age of twenty it is high time that you are debuted into society beneath your mother's guidance,” pausing to stroke his beard, your father casts his glance towards the gaggle of knights who have begun to lose interest in your father's musings, “As such, to ensure that our precious daughter may be safe we are entrusting a knight to act as her personal guard until a union of marriage has been ensured.”

Offering you a smile, your mother turns your head to face her, “Your father has decided that you shall be in charge of picking whom you’d feel most comfortable with.”

At the flick of the king’s wrist, the knights stumble forward, three of them stepping up before the throne, settling down on one knee as they bowed their heads. In the middle was the knight that refused to entertain his comrade's antics, the one who looked at you.

“I’m to choose now?” You stutter, nervously wringing your hands together.

“Yes now,” the king barked out, “Hurry up child, I do not have all day.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of the entire court's eyes searing through your body and leaving you cold all over. This was an important choice and for a moment you wondered if it was appropriate, the majority of the knights offered to you were men, never had you been unchaperoned in the presence of a man, it was improper but now you’d have to pick one of them to remain by your side for an unforeseeable amount of time. You wondered if it was a trap or perhaps a trick if you picked incorrectly whatever freedoms you may have been offered to be stripped until you had nothing.

Releasing a shaky breath, you pointed to the man in the middle, the one with hair like caramel, “Him,” you declared, “He shall serve as my guard until you give me away to my husband.”

“You there,” the king snipped, “Introduce yourself.”

Dipping his head even lower, the man smile, “Kirstein, Jean Kirstein of Eterna,” lifting his head to meet your father's gaze his eyes flash something akin to pride, “I was ranked within the top ten of my class in Pastoria’s training academy, number six to be specific,” turning to your mother, the slightest sliver of teeth peek through his grin, “It is such an honour to be chosen for this position, and if granted I promise to do everything in my earthly power to keep your daughter out of harm's way.”

“Approach.”

The chainlink and metal armour he sports clangs awkwardly together as he shuffles up the steps.

Jean presses his lips against the gaudy ring your father sports and leaves a kiss against the back of your mother's hand. They seem pleased with his manners and he looks clean, and well put together too. In the past, most knights you’d come across were buffoonish, entirely too busy ruining the prospects of the village girls in their free time to ever be considered for a position as highly regarded as this. The new academy the recently anointed king and queen of Pastoria created seemed to have fostered a group of exemplary young men and women for the first time in your life span. Rising to your feet, you offered your hand to the knight, fighting the urge to keep your eyes glued to the floor. Your face grew warm, uncomfortably so as he slid his hand into yours, his lips planting a kiss on your gloved hand. Jean’s hot breath sent a shiver through your spine.

If he recognized you, he hid all indications; the mirage of perfection standing tall before you as he returned to formation.

Lacing your fingers together you tuned out the commands your father barked out, addressing the knights and their new postages throughout the castle, their schedules, and whatever dull matters you were sure was important for them to know. It wasn’t until Jean was addressed once more that you began to listen in once more, threats interwoven with lengthy explanations of the ins and outs of his post. It was made abundantly clear to everyone in the throne room that should Jean fail to uphold his honour or in any way was less than a gentleman, he’d be strung up and flayed for the entire kingdom to bear witness.

One by one, servants, members of the royal court, and the knights filed out of the throne room until all that was left was you, your parents, and him; yet to be dismissed.

“Mother,” you pipe up, nervously glancing at Jean, “May I call on Lady Historia for a round of tea today?”

“Very well.”

Resting her chin upon the palm of her hand she waved you off, Jean in tow as you head off to find a maid.

“Might I have your name?” Jean asks, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, “Ahem, may I have your name, your majesty?”

You almost laugh from shock, pausing to turn to him, “My name?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, “Should you not already know the name of your future ruler?”

“Truthfully, I had no knowledge of you until today, your majesty.”

This time, you cannot hold back the laughter that bubbles up in your throat. It was fitting that outside the court, your existence was all but moot. Surely, news of an heir had to have made its way through the kingdom though you were not a boy but still you offered him your name between giggles, trying your best to compose yourself.

Sinking to his knee, Jean took your hand and pressed his lips against your hand uttering your name beneath his breath until the taste of it on his tongue felt familiar, “Your name, it's fitting,” Jean grinned.

“How so?”

Your heart pounded against your chest and your cheeks burned uncomfortably once more, silently you began to curse whichever narcissistic king decided that this should be customary.

“It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful,” he says, his thumb stroking the back of your hand, “So, it is fitting your highness that your name is as beautiful as you.”

Tearing your hand away from him, you turn, “We must make haste,” your fingers shake and you’re sure he can feel the nerves popping off your skin, “Come now, don’t just stand there I must change before I may attend to callers.”

“Oh! Right …”

Scrambling onto his feet, Jean brushed his hair back with his fingers jogging for a moment to catch up with you, shortening his strides to match yours.

“Must I change?” he asks, thumbing the hem of his tunic, “Surely I’m too look as well as my mistress.”

“Don’t.”

You cringe to yourself, “Do not call me mistress, you may address my mother as such but not me,” pressing your hand to your chest you inhale deeply, “You may call me by my name or your majesty if you must, I care not for such formalities.”

You knew if your father heard you declare such things he’d have half a mind to give you a lashing, appalled by your carelessness, though in truth you held disdain for the usage of titles. They felt cold and impersonal, leaving so much to be desired when it felt like everyone existed at an arm's length from you.

“Additionally, you’re to remain in your uniform whilst working unless the event calls for it.”

“Why’s that?” Jean asks, and it's apparent just how fresh he was.

“Should someone threaten my life you are to intervene,” you explain, “If you wore anything but your chainmail and armour your earthly existence would surely end before you’re able to draw your sword,” stepping closer to him, you press your hand to his chest, “We don’t want that, now do we.”

He shakes his head and smiles. When he does, he looks more boyish than ever before.

“Before I call upon my handmaid, may I ask you something?”

“Anything you wish to know, your majesty,” Jean is still too nervous to use your name so informally, but he remains close to you though he shouldn’t.

“How old are you?”

His eyes narrow for a moment before he responds, “Two and twenty,” he says, his chest puffing with pride, “I know what you must be thinking, so young and in the top ten of his class,” he grins, “Quite the accomplishment, right?”

“Indeed.”

You hum, slinking down the hallway to find your chambers.

“I’m to dress,” you state, biting your lip, “If you would, I’d appreciate it if you would escort Lady Historia to the back gardens, my handmaiden shall escort you once we’re done here.”

Giving you a salute, Jean left you to the capable hands of your maids. Pulling all the latest fashions from Camellia, tightening your short stay to push your breasts closer together. In all of an hour, they had you adorned in twinkling jewellery and a frilly bonnet to match with your pale pink frock. White flowers and crystals which sparkled beneath the sunlight made you the vision of perfection, a matching parasol thrust into your hands before you stumble into the blinding summer heat.

Sat in the shade of a large weeping willow was Historia, a sneer on her face as she watched Jean with a fierce intensity. When you entered her eye line, she perked up, “Your majesty!,” she shouted across the yard, “Come join us!”

“Miss Historia, how good it is to see you,” giving you a quick bow, she wraps her arm around yours, “I take it you’ve made Jean’s acquaintance?”

“I have indeed,” she grits, but elaborates no further since he remains within an earshot, “And, I have a great many questions dearest but first, how are you doing?”

Making yourself comfortable among the fluffy blanket, you shrug your shoulders, “I’ve been as well as I can be, the castle has certainly been lively in preparation for this season,” taking the cup of tea with a smile, you circle your finger the rim, “There's a great deal of talk these days, everyone wonders if her majesty the queen may finally pick a new diamond of the season.”

Historia rolled her eyes, taking a particularly rough bite of the strawberry scone she had been nibbling on.

“I do wonder what you may wear to the ball, perhaps silver?” you suggest, giggling when she crushes the scone between her fingers, “You looked absolutely darling last season in the gold but I think silver may be more reminiscent of that stunning dress you wore at your debut, don’t you think?” you put on your most pretentious voice in an attempt to mimic your mother, “You’re not a spring chicken deary, you ought to look as young and darling as you can.”

She snorts into her cup, quickly covering her cheeks in shock, “Oh hush you!” Historia exclaims, “You’ve yet to debut so truly what shall you know about the ordeal.”

Jean casts the two of you a look but remains silent aside from the stifled scoff he lets out.

“As heir to the throne I think I should not have to prowl for suitable prospects don’t you think, Historia?”

“I suppose so, though I believe that most should yearn to be sought after,” Historia sighed, taking a long drink from her cup of tea, “You’re quite lucky, you’ve managed to avoid the tortures of high society and the marriage-minded mama’s who’s surely flock to you with their inept sons in tow.”

The scoff Jean lets out is louder, drawing the attention of your companion but before she could say anything you laid your hand on her shoulder, it was not an endeavour worthy of either of your time. Taking one of the brightly coloured macarons you allow yourself a displeased sigh.

“Ah, well there certainly are some perks to be derived from living with little life.”

Historia is quick to note the way your face has fallen, still sorely from the predicament, you found yourself in, “Indeed, you’ll forever be spared from the rakes that toy around with all the eager young ladies they cross paths with,” she nods her head in an attempt to get you to nod along, “Nor should you have to endure the whispers of jealous debutants with all the charm of an iguana.”

“One should hope they shall not speak so unkindly of their highness,” you snicker though you know how society enjoyed all the gossip that crossed their paths, “Speaking of rumours, I heard Miss Petra has light skirts, the poor Earl must be devastated but perhaps there will be a wedding before the season has even started.”

“One should hope …”

Brushing a few wayward strands of her silken hair from her visage, Historia lowers her voice, leaning in close enough for you to catch a whiff of the delicate scent of rose petals wafting off her, “Say, with this new fellow by your side may you finally be allowed to attend the events of the Ton?”

“Hm, I shall hope and pray on all my luckiest stars that I might.”

“I'm hopeful, I’m in desperate need of some good company,” Historia sighs, gently placing her cup onto the table before laying upon the ground, “Oh my dear, they’re so dull … I find myself losing all the good sense I have each time I’m there.”

“Surely they’re not all bad.”

Laying beside her, you tuck your hand beneath your head.

“How about Lady Finger?” You question, trying to drum up all the names you could remember, “Or the Viscount Braun? His title is recently acquired, is it not?”

She lets out a sound of disgust, shuddering for some dramatic effect, “It is indeed, his papa recently passed but he’s been after since my debut and I can assure you he’s to find another,” resting her hand upon her chest she frowns, “They’re all worst than the last I tell you, the Galliard brothers? Utter rakes but you should see their close friend the elder Grice boy, he’s jug-bitten!”

“Dearest, how are you ever to find a match if you cannot look past their vices?”

“Should they not be so awful I might be able to,” Historia’s bottom lip wobbles, “But as you know it matters not how perfect any suitor is, my heart is already spoken for.”

She laughs to avoid the tears that threaten to bubble up and spill past her lash line. Taking your hand in hers, your stroke her gloved fingers until she composes herself. It was rare that she truly told you of how her heart ached so terribly, much too content with playing pretend. If she acted as if everything was okay, then it would be.

“Perhaps sweet Frieda may take pity on you and enlist you to be her governess,” you suggest with a smile, “She has what, five children now? Surely they need some assistance.”

“Her last pregnancy blessed the family with twins so she has seven children now!”

Your eyes widen in shock, “That’s … spectacular!”

The idea of that many children was startling, as an only child, it was difficult for you to imagine being just one of seven let alone raising that many children. You supposed that one day you’d have to consider this, how many children you wished to have, how they’d be raised, who if not the eldest would take the throne once they were of age. It was terrifying, you couldn’t help but shiver despite the pleasantly balmy breeze. Those sort of decisions always felt far away to you, but one day you were to be the queen, and a wife, and then a mother – all of those things at once, perfectly. Your future was not another lifetime away but it was now; it had to be, you were certain that was why your mother persuaded your father to shorten your leash.

“Dear, you musten pretend with me,” Historia coos, giving your hand a squeeze, “You’ve turned green, it’s terrifying isn’t it.”

“... It is indeed.”

Pressing your forehead against hers you let your eyes fall shut, content with listening to the soft rustling leaves and the sound of chatter the wind carried to your ears.

“Would you like to hear all the reasons why Mister Hoover would be a most disastrous match for me?” She whispers, giggling when the corners of your lips tug upwards, “Ah well I suppose he’s now an Earl!”

“Oh pray tell, in detail too! I must know is the way he chews unattractive? Or is he too soft-hearted like the Baron Bodt?”

Jean clears his throat, turning to the two of you, “Ahem, your highness the hour has passed and you’re due back in the castle,” he says, ushering over the maids that slowly approached, “So, say you’re goodbyes.”

“Ugh, you hear that? He’s already giving you commands!”

“Hush you,” rising from the ground, you smooth out your dress, “He’s nothing more than a lady's maid ensuring that I don’t miss my pianoforte lessons.”

Wrapping her into a quick embrace you force an amiable smile to your lips, opening your lacy parasol the moment you’ve stepped out from the shade of the trees. You and the knight walk toe and toe, silently until you’re both out of an earshot of any other living soul.

“She’s quite the chit.”

“I pray my ears deceive me, sir!” You gasp, “You may not speak ill of my bosom friend, to me or anyone else!”

He tilts his head to the side, you’d think the gesture was cute had you not been inflamed with anger, “You majesty I mean no offence, does chit not mean chatty?” Jean questions, “Given your expression, that must mean no…”

Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, Jean groans.

“That should be the last time I ever listen to that blockhead!”

Catching sight of your now confused expression, Jean bows his head with a frown on his lips.

“Excuse my impertinence, one of the men I trained with seems to have led me astray on the definition of the word.”

He looks remorseful and his cheeks are tinged with red that cheeks up the back up his neck and tickles his ears. You supposed he was being truthful, it’d be unsensible to speak ill of those in the Ton or the court if he wished to remain employed and in good standings with you. Though you did not know him well, you would not have pegged him to be so careless but that may have been the naivety that lived within you. There was something about this man that made your heart feel like it was lit aflame, something that made you believe that magic did exist. So, it may have been that small whimsical part of you that forced you to only see the good in him, to believe that he truly meant no harm and was not the kind of man who went around speaking ill of highly educated women simply because he was jealous.

“I offer you my sincerest apologies your majesty,” Jean says in earnest, “I grew up in a very small village, I know little of the world you were raised in, all I know of etiquette and language is from the academy,” he explained, his hands restless at his side. He looked ashamed to admit such things to you, “So I promise I meant no offence, I simply meant to say that Lady Reiss was very chatty … You two are close.”

Tentatively reaching out to pat his shoulder, you give him a sympathetic smile, “We are close, she’s admittedly my only friend,” letting out a sigh, you try to remain upbeat, “She’s the only reason I understand all the nonsense of high society but don’t tell anyone I said that …” Giving him a playful wink your shoulders slump as the two of you head into an empty corridor, “Truthfully, etiquette and language are difficult, I had to learn it all from her and the conversations I overheard because I was raised outside it all.”

Nodding his head, it’s Jean’s turn to give you a sympathetic smile.

“So, just as Lady Historia taught me, I shall teach you. After all, we’re to be close now that you’re my personal guard, right?”

Jean takes your hand before you even have a chance to extend it to him, silently accepting your offer, “I’m your faithful servant,” he says with a grin, “I shall put all my trust in you as my teacher, all that I ask is that you is that you tell me of this rake business so I may never become one.”

You raise a brow at him, “Oh of course Sir.”

It takes you three months to mould Jean into the perfect gentleman. Not that there was truly anything wrong with him before, however now should he ever be in anything other than his knight attired, he surely could have charmed even the coldest dowager. In truth, your motivations for even suggesting that Jean should learn proper etiquette were more for your benefit than his. In the late of night after many long hours spent with heads bent together beneath the tepid spring breeze, you’d lay awake and envision what it may be like to be swept up by the sweet embrace of romance with him.

You’d imagine that he would charm your mother and father and by some miracle, the two of you may have some sort of life together.

Though you’d not dare to admit it out loud, you fancied yourself a fantasy far too often.

It didn’t help that when the lady’s maid stepped away for a moment and the two of you were left unchaperoned he’d turn to you and practice. Sweet words like that of the finest poetry spouted with nothing but the truest intentions for a short moment before a footman breezed through with their noses stuck to the ground in search of gossip. There was no reason for it, but he enjoyed pretending to court you, showing off his talents when you were off perusing the castle grounds and he was reunited with his teaming buddies. When you’d promenade, he’d pick flowers from the bushels decorating the length of the bridge and offer them to you no matter how you’d protest.

It was a strange relationship that you’d dare suggest border too closely to courtship than simply that of a knight and his employer. Even friendship was far too scandalous for a lady and a man to have and yet the whispers of gossip never seemed to circle anything but the miracle that was your existence. Too enraptured in the mystery and curiosity that brewed when the announcement of an heir came twenty-some years after their birth. So, you’d relish in the delights of sweet nothings whispered in your ears though they were empty, and counted down the minutes for you and him to part ways each evening so that he may leave you with a tender kiss to the back of your hand, another to the palm, and one last left inside your wrist; for no reason other than to watch your body shudder and shy away from him.

Jean enjoyed the small comforts just as much as you did, some days you’d think he enjoyed them more. Sneaking him sweet cakes and tarts and all the other delights a man of his standing had never been afforded during all of the days of his life. He’d often boast to his friends whenever the two of you strolled past their postings, how lucky he was to lay in the lap of luxury so often just to see them sweat and pout, waffling about when they’d shared all the hard work they’d just finished. And then, when the two of you found yourself alone once more, the cocky grin he sported dropped and he took your hands, pulling you dangerously close and promising that all the boastful words he spewed were nothing more than falsities. He simply relished in how they whined after three long years of mockery aimed at him.

You didn’t care much for the words he expelled at the expense of others, you told him just as much but he still pressed his forehead against yours and swore to you, though you’d never ask that of him.

With a sigh, you shut the novel in your hand. Stood at the doorway of the library was Jean, quietly chatting to Armin the knight often stationed there. He offered you a smile, turning his head to face you when he could feel your eyes on him. Stepping away from the table, you breeze through the doors and hovered near their side. Mikasa, another knight, bowed her head as she passed, whisking Armin away with haste. You didn’t catch what she muttered though you caught the name Eren, Jean’s eyes followed after them with a certain sense of longing until they were out of sight.

You liked them, his friends.

They were funny and charming all in their own right, they’re enjoyable company that you desperately wished to meet them. Jean spoke so highly of them, you felt as though you had already known then though you merely met another's eyes in passing. The confines of polite society never felt as strict as it did when it came to Jean and those he loved. He was improper company outside of your arrangement as were his friends, you were forbidden to even try though as you quickly learned in the time you had gotten to know Jean, they were often far superior to even the most well-endowed gentry.

“How were your studies, princess?” He asks, offering his arm for you to take, “If I recall, Lord Byron was on the schedule?”

You nod, tucking your arms behind your back.

“It’s so very romantic though I do wish the reading materials I was supplied with had some substance.”

“Oh, don’t you know your mind is much too fragile for that,” Jean jests, “Flowery words and romance are what shaped a queen, remember?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “Of course, how could I ever forget.”

Taking hold of your arm, Jean pulls you into the first empty room he can find. It’s one filled with paintings and a few other art materials but they’re covered by white cotton sheets. Your chest is flush with his, but his grip does not waver even when you try to shimmy away.

“I’ve brought this for you.”

Produced by one of his pockets is a stack of string-tied pamphlets, thrusting them towards you, Jean tries to get you to take them.

“What is this?” You ask, tossing a glance over your shoulder as you grab hold of them.

“All the reading materials one with an enlightened mind should have.”

Thumbing through them you frown, “Jean, I am serious!”

“As am I,” he shouts, “Look, they’re all the most popular philosophical and political musings going around these days.”

“And? What shall you expect me to do with them?”

Thrusting them back into his heads you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Read them,” Jean grits, flicking in the forehead as though you’re some petulant child, “What else are you to do with them?”

Shaking your head, you step away from him, “I shall be in such trouble if anyone were to learn I’m reading the musings of madmen?”

“I should not like to hear such nonsense, your majesty, you wish to be well educated this is how.”

Capturing you by the arm, Jean all but towers over you. He’s always been quite tall, looming over most at a whopping 6’5 but you’ve never felt small beneath his gaze as you did now. His breath is warm as it fans across your cheeks, shoving the stack against your abdomen, Jean sighs and his face grows near. There’s a spattering of freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose that you had never noticed before and a scar that is mostly faded but it’s still there just beneath his right eye. Your breath catches in your chest when you gather up the courage to meet his brooding gaze, they’re like pools of molten gold rather than the usual brown that occupies them but with the warm light filtering in through the large rounded windows illuminates– Jean positively glows before you.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he keeps you focused on him, “Trust me when I say I did this for you,” he says, softly calling your name, “I see how you long for more every day, so please take them.”

He’s grown too close to you know, you can smell the faint scent of his soap. Citrus, it’s bright and airy, almost disguising the musk of sweat and dampen wool. You wish to take it in more closely but you pull away quickly. All you could find yourself thinking of was his small, pouty lips. You want to kiss him, to know how they feel against yours but you’re struck with the horrifying reminder that the door was open and even a princess shall not be spared from the ruthless hands of gossip should anyone catch her in such a compromising position.

“Thank you …” You mutter, your eyes cast to the ground, “You’re dismissed sir, I should like to retire to my room.”

“You’re majesty-”

It’s torture being so close to him yet so far away.

If only you just reached out, he could be in your grasp; yours not only in employment but in something far closer to love.

At that moment as you stare at him, you know that you have to kiss him, just once, on the lips. If you didn’t kiss you feared you might explode, the forbidden feeling of desire overwhelms you, burning you from the inside out until you feel as though you’d do something you’d regret if you didn’t leave now.

“Good day, Jean.”

Stumbling into the hallway, you blindly rush up to your room with alarming speed. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you feel as though you could not breathe not even when your chamber door was shut and you found yourself alone in the sanctity of your own private space. Frantically pulling off the tight diamond necklace clasped around your neck, you shudder and shake with such intensity you fear you may just cry. The perfectly coiffed hairstyle and attire your maids worked so hair to create crumble within seconds as you tear off all the constricting layers of fabric until you’re left in the thin muslin chemise.

The smooth wood of your door soothes the heat that dances on your skin.

You wished to kiss him, Jean.

He was certainly handsome, that much you allowed yourself to accept the moment you first laid your eyes upon him but you fought every stray thought of him that manifested. They were dangerous and however tempting all the daydreams may have been, you only allowed yourself so far. Romance and marriage were tangible, you knew of how saccharine it should be but anything more you could not. Perhaps it was innocence or maybe naivety but you knew nothing of what lay beyond lingering glances that had you feeling as though your soul was on fire, however kissing was reserved for weddings, touch for its eve, everything else was but a well-kept secret by all the Lords and Ladies. To feel as though your heart may leap straight from its chest at the prospect of pressing your lips against another's was utterly terrifying.

Grabbing the stack of pamphlets from where you’d tossed them, you shove them behind one of the many books scattered across your bookshelf.

You can smell the faintest traces of citrus and his musk, it’s intoxicating and you feel dizzy.

As you pull off your chemise, you riffle through your drawers until you come up with a thin but frilly nightgown, one best suited for the summer but you cannot bring yourself to don it.

You wish for the burning to stop but you feel as though your entire body was doused in flames, they lap at your bosom and the unruly tuft of hair between your legs. You’ve never felt this way and you quickly pray to each star in the sky that you never feel this way again because it’s unbearable but the longer your mind lingers on Jean the tighter your stomach grows as if it were tied up in hundreds of knots that plague your body.

Tossing yourself upon your bed you sigh, trying to cast all thoughts off him, but it proves to be impossible.

You see his smile and hear the soft lull of his voice when he whispers to you as though he were in your ear now. The man in your mind whispers devilish things to you, coaxing your hand between your legs and crafting images of himself before your very eyes. He’s even more handsome than even that of the most carefully sculpted statues, stripped bare before you. Guilt, that is all that threads through your veins the longer your mind wanders and the further your hand slips.

Like honey, his name drips past your lips; they’re bitten and dotted with blood as you mercilessly tear into the flesh.

“Jean …”

You sigh, spreading your legs open to relieve the pesky ache that drives you mad. Your body jolts and your chest heaves upwards when the tips of your fingers graze against a hardened bundle of flesh. Images from a crude anatomy book you once laid your eyes upon long ago and you moved your fingers about until pinpricks of pleasure dared to slither up your spine.

Wrenching your hand away, you force yourself to stop, to deny yourself of all your deepest desires. Your skin is soaked with sweat and when in a few hours, your lady’s maid gently knocks on your door to check on you, you allow her to run you a bath. The cool water and strong floral scent clears your mind and you’ve decided you’d be content to return to your past circumstances rather than bring shame to your family’s name if you could not rid yourself of these feelings for Jean.

As the season grew near it proved difficult to hold either of your parents' attention let alone a private discussion on the state of your affairs but it was even more difficult to cast Jean away.

No matter what excuse you gave him, he was set on remaining by his postage.

Late one evening, when all had laid their head to rest, Jean made it his duty to get you alone.

You weren’t supposed to be there, in your mother's study. It was to be yours when you took to the throne but as of now, it was to collect dust. The queen seldom made use of the space and you figured it could not hurt to become acquainted with all the ins and outs of the space. And it seemed that Jean followed all of the breadcrumbs to find you, still sporting your evening dress, tearing through a novel. The room was bathed in warm candlelight that bounced off the jewels of your necklace.

“If I were to recall, this room is off-limits.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, far too distracted to have noticed the sound of his footfalls heading your way.

“My goodness, you frightened me, sir!” You hiss, pressing a firm hand to your chest until your breathing steadies, “You’re not to be here Jean, you were relieved of your duties for the evening in case you forgot.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Jean chuckles but it feels hollow.

Stepping into the room, he shuts the door behind him.

You know you should scold him, perhaps even yell so he may be reminded of how ruinous this all was but you lost your voice as he grew closer.

“Now then, since we’re hidden from prying eyes and eager ears, so do tell me what I’ve done to deserve your cold shoulder,” Jean frowns. Taking the book from your limp hands and blocking your way to the door, “If I’ve done something to upset or offend you, you just tell me so that I may be able to rectify it.”

“It’s not that …”

“Then what is it?”

His hands tremble and he sounds utterly desperate for an answer.

“It has been maddening not being able to speak with you!” He shouts, his bottom lip quivering, “You’ve driven me mad! So please, your majesty, tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

Shaking your head, you sigh, “You’ve done nothing wrong, sir,” you force yourself to say, his name feeling too intimate on your tongue, “I just was in need of space.”

“Do not lie to me, friends do not lie to friends.”

Grabbing your chin, Jean tilts your head upwards so that you have no choice but to take in his anguished expression.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he wails, “Handing me off to others and hiding away in your room whenever you were unable to rid yourself of me!”

Shutting your eyes, you take in a shallow breath, “Let go of me Jean,” your voice wavers but you pray that he listens, “This is improper behaviour and should you like to remain employed within Gardenia you shall listen to your future queen.”

“You do not frighten me,” Jean says, whispering your name when your resolve does not break, “I shall stay here all day and all night if that is what it takes for you to talk to me.”

“And ruin my prospects?”

You force a laugh and sink further into the chair.

“A good friend should not do such a thing.”

Your heart pangs and tears prickle the corner of your eyes. It is shame that you feel, it has swallowed you whole and spat you out, pathetic and snivelling and positively ridden with guilt. You cannot meet his eyes though he pleads with you. You’re a hypocrite and you wish to spare such a good man of the misfortune of reality, that even a princess can fall victim to the sins of the flesh. Not nearly as illustrious as you’re said to be, because surely once he learned of your improprieties he’d have no qualms of tossing you to the wolves.

“I take it you heard me that evening,” Jean mutters, stepping away from you, “Your majesty I assure you that I did not mean to impose or spy, I was simply worried that you left in such a hurry.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The evening after I gave you the pamphlets you fled from me in such haste, I promise I shall tell no one what I heard.”

“What you heard?” You echo, stepping from behind the desk, “What exactly did you hear Jean?”

Shaking his head, Jean nervously laughs, “That is most improper discussion your majesty,” he says, “Rest assured that I understand one has needs and I do not judge.”

You let out a choked chuckle, overcome with sheer shock.

It is then you’ve decided that now there is truly nothing left for you to lose. He knows and though the red on his cheeks might very well be from the heat, he seems less disgusted than you imagined. Too many nights you laid awake, torturing yourself at the thought of how he’d hate you should he become privy to your one moment of weakness but now you felt no shame now.

Tugging on his lapel, you shudder. You’ve lost count of how many times Jean has dared to stand so close, but now your lips ghost over his. His breath smells of mint and his lips are coated in a thin pomade, a rare luxury for him you should think but you’re not. You clumsy press your mouth against his, your hands pressing flat against his chest. Though he’s swathed in layers you can feel the lithe muscles beneath them. Your bottom lip quivers and you gasp when his calloused hands press against the small of your back. His touch is warm and inviting, easy to fall into and melt against his more than capable hands. But he is fervent, fingers digging into your hips and his mouth mashing into yours, desperate to taste you.

Your name is moaned against your mouth, Jean squeezes you so tightly you worry he’s afraid that you’d slip right through his fingers.

But it is when you return his name, your jaw falling slack that Jean jumps away as if your very being burns his skin.

“I’m sorry your highness.”

Jean mutters, his gaze cast to the floor. He sounds numb, perhaps even riddled with shock. You feel it too, half out of your mind because you cannot believe that you kissed him. For the first time in your life, you did what your heart desires in spite of the consequences. It felt good but when Jean stared so woefully, you could not help but feel doubt begin to creep up your throat.

None of that mattered though, the moment his lips touched yours, you felt more alive than you ever had. Your very soul was on fire as you dared to take a chance, following what your heart longed for, for the very first time in your life. It felt good, you wanted more.

Now that you had him, you could not live without him.

“No one shall ever know.”

“Jean,” you call, desperately grasping for him, “What

ever are you sorry for?”

“You’re ruined, I ruined you just as you feared!”

“But I kissed you first,” you grit, “You did not ruin me, I ruined myself.”

“I did this!”

You don’t mean to shout but you do.

“I made this choice, Jean, the only choice I’ve ever made for myself.”

Taking his hands in yours, you hope to reason with him.

“And I want you.”

“You want me?” He asks, his eyes falling to your lips and then slightly further down, “Truly?”

Your eyes grow lidded and your breath laboured as he takes your face into his hands. Gently caressing your cheek, Jean sighs pleasantly.

“Yes, truly.”

Though he kisses you unabashedly he remains restrained, his body tightly wound as though he’s scared to love you fully.

Nipping at your bottom lip, Jean shudders. For a moment he pauses, his forehead against yours, soulful eyes peering back at you. And it is in that moment he decides something for himself, you’re unsure what but whatever it is, has him pressing his hips against yours. He’s hard and you can’t help but gasp.

“I pray that you allow me to have all of you,” Jean whispers against your mouth.

“Speak plainly Jean, for I do not understand …”

It is then as he stares at you with utter desire in his eyes that you remember there is still so much that you do not yet know, it frightens and excites you all at the same time. Your heart pangs in your chest and you feel your skin grow hot but you do not shy away from Jean’s piercing gaze though every fibre of your being screams at you to shrink before him and simper to disguise what you truly felt.

“I wish to take you in all the ways that a man can have a woman,” he says, his hands falling to your hips, “To know you and your body better than you know yourself,” Jean gulps down a breath, ducking his head down before he peers back at you, “To show you all the earthly pleasures that you’ve denied yourself.”

“Jean…”

It’s all you can say, his name. Too taken with him to say anything else.

“I’d like that very much.”

Pushing your skirt up to your hips, you beckon him forward. Jean takes the opportunity to tug your bloomers down your legs, gently helping you step out of them. There is something about the sight of Jean knelt between your legs, cheeks flushed as he gazes up at you.

“May I, your majesty?” He asks, and you cannot help but chuckle.

Nodding your head, you cover your mouth with your hand, “Do as you wish, Jean,” you suppose you should have felt shy or even nervous but you didn’t, “I’m yours.”

Nothing bad felt more natural than being there, in that room with Jean.

When he slid his hands up your thighs, his stubbly cheek rubbing against your supple skin. His head ducked beneath the hem of your dress his breath hot against your sex. Jean plants a flurry of balmy kisses up the expanse of your thighs, tapping your hip to silently instruct you to spread your legs just a bit.

“Can I …” You trail off, “What are you …”

Your words are cut off when you feel his tongue against your quim. Hot and wet, a shudder trickles up your spine and his name drips from your tongue, languid and drawn out like hot wax spilling across parchment before it’s sealed. The wood of the desk chips beneath your fingernails as your grip on the edge tightens. Your hips buck on their own accord, twitching towards his mouth. Your head is foggy and you cannot compare this feeling, it’s far better than the timid touch of your fingertips, Jean is anything but timid, sure in himself as he lavishes his tongue over your slit and presses the calloused pads of his fingers into the fat of your hip.

Jean moans into your cunt, the vibrations dizzying.

“That feels … You’re too…”

A shrill gasp chokes you when the tip of his nose bumps against the throbbing bundle of nerves that forces your stomach to tighten. It's uncomfortable for just a moment, but that tight feeling loosens, steadily unravelling each time his nose pressed further against your clit. His tongue probes at your hole and the butterflies that have long since made a home in your ribcage crawl up to tickle your throat.

Guiding your leg over his shoulder, Jean pokes his head out from beneath your skirt, “Use your words, princess,” he grins too cocky for your liking but your need is far too strong for you to dare consider some snippy remark to remind him of his place. But you should, he lives and breathes to serve you and only you, he belongs on his knees for you, servicing you, he just needs your guidance.

Threading your fingers into his nearly coiffed hair you push his hand back between your legs, a mumbled “Oh hush up,” spat from your lips, quickly replaced with a wanton moan.

Jean chuckles but he’s twice as eager to please. Twisting the silky strands of hair between your hands, almost pulling a bit roughly when your back begins to arch. The knot in your stomach threatens to make you double over, your legs wobbling. You have to place your weight on the desk so you don’t stumble.

“Like that,” you sigh, your jaw falling slack, “Please Jean … Don’t stop!”

Your body seizes for a moment, all the muscles in your body going tense for a moment as pure bliss washes over you. Stars blind your eyes and flames lap at your abdomen and you can feel yourself gush. It makes you flush– your skin burning uncomfortably hot, the obscene sounds that came from Jean and your cunt make your ears burn in embarrassment but he pays no mind to your coquettish squeals, his tongue swirling around the engorged bud and then back down to your hole until he is satisfied.

His lips are coated in your essence, as is his chin and cheeks when he pops back up from between your legs, leaning in to kiss you with no second thought. The taste of you still lingers on his tongue but you do not shy away, twice as eager to have him in your arms, his mouth on yours.

“Was that?” Jean trails off, “Was that good for you.”

You nod, pursing your lips to kiss the top of his nose, “It was, thank you, Jean.”

His hands rest on the desk behind you, caging you in. Jean looks utterly enraptured, content to stare at your face though he yawns and it’s evident he’s grown just as tired as you have. Footsteps heading towards the study pull the two of you out of your thoughts, the two of you rush to blow out the few candles scattered around the room and wait in silence with bated breath until they’ve passed.

Cupping your cheek, Jean presses his forehead against yours, “I will see you in the morning,” he whispers, though you can tell he’s nervous, “Until then.”

With one last kiss, he slinks out of the study and down the hall. You don’t think you’ll be able to find respite in your room and you find yourself correct when sleep hesitates to find you.

Instead, you’re plagued with too many thoughts. You wonder what it means, how things will change for the two of you if you love Jean. All you’re certain of is that it was most improper, that you’re compromised but you don’t feel afraid of that fact. It doesn’t scare you, nor does the prospect of whispers and rumours. No matter how life plays out, you’re to be their queen, finicky remarks and gossip mean little you shall one day hold all the power.

But, what scares you is love.

You’ve never seen much of it, love existed solely within the well-worn pages of novels and poems, they were pretty words and nothing more, that much you knew. Marriages were out of convenience or they were well-crafted business arrangements by men who sought to increase their fortune. Your own parent's marriage was a match made solely for the benefit of Gardenia. If love exists you were certain it was reserved for those who could withstand heartache and you were unsure that you could.

If you loved Jean, surely the two of you would have to part ways somewhere down the road.

You did not know if you were willing to open your heart up to him if one day it would break. What you did know is that you cared for him and he you, all the rest mattered not, so long as the two of you would always look after one another.

But, you liked to think maybe you could be loved by him.

That is what kept you up at night, it’s far stronger than any ounce of frightening thought that you could terrify yourself because when you allow yourself to indulge, you find that you quite like the idea of being loved. Jean was a good man, the best man you’ve ever known, it was an honour to be loved by him.

You consider yourself lucky that he was yours because if one day you’d be forced into a marriage for the sake of your kingdom, then at least you’d have him and this summer to hold close to your heart. And on the nights when you’d feel lonely though there’s another in your bed, you could remind yourself that you were worthy of love, that you had been loved.

When morning did arrive though you were still left with so many worries you felt lighter than you had in a while.

And you’d soon learn that sneaking around as an adult was far easier than when you were still in lead strings.

As spring turned to summer and all eyes were turned to the simpering debutants, they slipped off of you for a moment though however fleeting you found yourself indeed, most gracious to your mother and father for being so adamant that you remain far removed from society. The castle was quiet, most of the court and its servants readying themselves for soirées with frequent trips to the modiste or they were out in the fresh air, promenading beneath the wisteria trees. There was always something or other that drew all the focus away from talks of you. Though you sometimes dreamed that you may dance while bathed in moonlight, spinning in circles until you grew dizzy but you were most grateful more often than not.

The feeling of freedom was far greater than the fleeting high and adrenaline of parties that you had the rest of your life to enjoy.

And, more importantly, it left you and him, alone.

The days grew long but the two of you found solace in the quiet time, pouring over whatever novel has captured your attention at length. In the evenings when all had laid their head to rest, Jean found himself scampering into your bedchambers. He always left before the sun rose, fixing your blankets and planting a firm kiss on your forehead before he left. Though his side of the mattress was cold by the time your lady’s maid came to help you ready for the day, it was nice to be held in such a warm grasp as the sound of June bugs and crickets lulled you to sleep. Soon, your bed grew worn on both sides and you decided that it was far better than your mattress wearing unevenly.

“Would you like to formally meet them?” Jean asks one morning, the grass is wet with dew and the sun has begun to spill over the horizon. Your cheeks are numb from the morning chill but you hadn’t yet wanted to bid him goodnight though sleep called to you so fervently, “My friends, that is.”

Before you even had a chance to reply, Jean began to scratch the back of his neck, bashfully shaking his and protesting, “That’s a most preposterous idea, the knight barracks is no place for a lady of your standing.” He forced a laugh and cast his gaze away from you.

“I would very much like to meet them, Jean,” you frown, curling closer to him as a particularly strong breeze bristles through the trees, “They’re important to you so I should like to meet them when they’re off duty when they’re most comfortable.”

“Truly?”

You nod, the pads of your fingers grazing across his stubbly jaw as you turn his head to face you, “Yes, truly,” offering him a chaste kiss, you smile, “You’ve met those important to me so it is only fair that I extend you the same opportunity.”

“You mean your one friend? Miss Reiss?”

Feigning a look of offence you nudge his shoulder with him, “Counting you, I have two friends do I not?”

“Well, I find that I dislike if you were to refer to me as simply a friend,” Jean muses smiling when your quirk a brow at him, “I should like if you called me anything but friend.”

“Shall you be my enemy then? Or perhaps rival, that's far more amiable I think.”

Biting your lip you conceal the giggle that crawls up your throat as he tosses you a faux glare. As you step away, he holds you by the wrists tugging you flush against him, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Then you should be my most favourite bluestocking.”

“I’d be offended if I weren’t,” you chuckle, patting his cheek before you tear yourself out of his embrace.

The ends of your nightgown grow damp with dew and mud and you’re sure you’d have to hide it from the maids less they become privy to all your adventures. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you wave to Jean and call out to him, “Do let me know when we shall party.”

On a whim, you blew him a kiss, something all the most infatuated heroines did in romance novels. You longed to do something like that, it filled you with such glee to have the chance despite only you and he was the only one there to witness the affection the two of you held for one another. Your cheeks burned when Jean pretended to catch your kiss, pressing his hand to his heart like he'd been struck by an arrow, utterly enraptured.

With your hands clutched to your bosom, you swooned. Shuffling through the back garden doors, you hummed beneath your breath, and carefully ventured through the halls though you were certainly lost in thought. You hadn’t heard your name be called until two hands grabbed at your wrist and tugged you around the corner bend.

“Historia!” You sputter when you find yourself face to face with your friend, “What ever are you doing here!”

She shakes her head, “I ought to ask you the same!” Historia grits, “I’ve been looking all over for you, why on earth were you out in the gardens so early?”

Taking her hands in yours, you rush her up to your quarters, the door locked shut behind the two of you.

“You must never tell anyone that I was out there,” you hissed, tugging off your soiled nightgown and kicking it beneath your bed, “Promise me, Historia, please.”

Historia sighs but mutters out a small promise to you. Helping you into a fresh nightgown, she wraps her arms around your torso, “There is something I must tell you,” she whispers, sighing a bit, “I’m engaged … That is why I’m here so early,” though you cannot see her, you can hear how she begins to tear up, “Your mother had my family and I stay the night so that the engagement may be announced to the court and Ton during an impromptu luncheon.”

“Oh, dearest,” you murmur, twisting around in her arms so you may wrap her in your embrace, “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Historia says but when you try to dry her eyes tears continue to drip past her lash line.

“What happened?” Cupping her cheek, your thumb swipes away the lingering traces of rouge still on the apples of her cheek, “If my mother forced this match upon you, I shall do whatever I can to rectify this.”

Shaking her head, Historia frowns, “No it was my choice, Marco and I … he’s like me, in love with a man from the lower class,” she says, “So, we agreed upon this ruse, a marriage only on paper,” your brows stitch together and you wonder how she could have known but you keep your lips pressed in a firm line, “We’ll have children to ensure the Bodt linage does not end with him and we both shall be free from the constraints of society and I may love Ymir as long as she’ll have me.”

“And the Baron, his heart belongs to another as well?”

“Yes, but you cannot tell a soul.”

Holding your pinky out to her, you press your other hand against your chest, “You know I would never,” the sigh she lets out comes from within her very soul and though she isn’t wholly relieved you can practically see the weight lifting off of her chest, “Every secret of yours is a secret of mine, another soul shall never know.”

“Thank you!”

“So tell me,” you ask, gasping a bit when she squeezes you even tighter, “Have you told Ymir?”

Historia nods, making herself comfortable in your bed, “Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t know since we haven’t talked since the beginning of the season but I convince my father to hire her as my lady’s maid,” she laughs because the idea of her beloved as a lady maid is still so hilarious, “She hates it and misses working with her father and the other blacksmiths but now we’re able to spend every day together,” bouncing on the bed she exclaims, “Oh! but she is glad that we shall be whisked away to the Bodt’s ancestral home in the countryside following our impending nuptials, it’s quite the trip but I’m sure you’ll be able to visit once you’re married.”

“Who knows when that will be.”

You laugh but Historia furrows her brows in confusion.

“What do you …” She murmurs, “Your mother announced last night at the Paradis ball that the search for a spouse has begun,” Historia laughs nervously, her lashes fluttering as she sputters, “You’re to be married before the season is over.”

“You did not know.”

“I did not know.”

Stepping away from your bed you begin to pace the length of your room. This was not happening, there was no way that now your mother and father should think you were ready for marriage.

“I’m sure they were going to tell you,” she said, wringing her hands together, “Things have been so busy lately.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, “Oh I doubt that,” you grit, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hands, “Every decision ever made for me has been by them,” Historia frowns, you can tell she feels bad though it is not her fault, “Even Jean … they picked him before I did that was why he was stood near the front … I am such a fool!”

“You are not!”

The doorknob jiggles and someone knocks on the door. Casting Historia a hurried glance you usher her into your dressing room, opening the thin screen to hide her from view.

Opening the door you find Mina Carolina your lady’s maid, with a box from the modiste in her hands.

“I’m not feeling well,” you feign a cough, and press your hand to your forehead, “My head aches, I don’t think I shall join mother and father to break our fast.”

“I will let them know,” she says, attempting to open the door even wider, “For now let us get you dressed, and show you this gorgeous new gown your mama would like for you to wear tomorrow evening.”

“I should like to rest some more, I’ll take the dress and hang it myself.”

“Your majesty-“

Taking the box from her hands, you keep the door flush against your hip, “I insist Mina, and I ask that you please send Jean up here,” clearing your throat you wear a pleasant smile, “Since I am sick, I would prefer that he spends his day looking after Miss Reiss.”

At the mention of your friends, Mina lights up, “Have you heard the joyous news!” she exclaims, “The queen is quite pleased that her incomparable has finally picked a husband! I hear she’s planning to host the wedding herself.”

“Yes, I heard, so do you mind?”

Bowing her head she nods, “As you wish, your majesty!”

As soon as the door is shut you toss the box to the floor, leaning against the wall, “You can come out,” you call, “I think it best you find your way back to your room.”

“Shall I instruct Jean that he find his way here?“ Historia questions, picking up the box and placing it neatly on the bed. Lifting the lid, she takes a peek, “Oh this dress is absolutely gorgeous, you better not throw it to the floor again.”

“Please do!”

The palms of your hands are dragged down your face as you sigh.

“I mean it about the dress!” She shouts before slipping out of your bedchambers and all you can muster up is a half-hearted noise of affirmation.

When you finally did have the nerve to look at the dress, you couldn’t help but find yourself less upset. It had taken a lot of convincing on your end to don the latest styles from Camellia since the low neckline was considered far from modest and the lack of corset showed off your true figure but now your mother had willingly had a dress drawn up for you just how you liked it. The gesture however sweet it may have been had you not been so infuriated by the audacious idea that you were now set to marry. It was your fathers doing, it had to have been, however, your mother agreed upon it. She was always so embarrassed that she never had the chance to shepherd you into society and find you a love match. That was all she wanted, for you to be her incomparable— to be her diamond.

Smoothing your fingers over the jewels sewed onto your dress, you sighed.

There was no fate worse than a life confined to another when there was no affection there. That was why the heir to Dulcis had gone away with the heir to Eterna; they couldn’t bear to be apart from one another so they fled. Surely you’d never be able to pull it off but you still found yourself being eaten away by nerves. If you were lucky, perhaps you may find yourself lucky and promised to a man like Baron Marco Bodt. Though, you weren’t feeling so optimistic; given your history, it felt rather fruitless to dare to dream any longer.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time Jean was finally able to make his way to you. By the time he had slipped through your door, you had dressed in an utterly garish ensemble, feeling the need to make yourself feel good with the clothing you wore. Delicate diamond earrings and a heavy necklace glittered in the bright sunlight and for the first time in ages, you place your crown on your head.

“Is something the matter?” Jean pants, rushing towards you in a frenzy, “Miss Historia didn’t … She said you were …”

“I’d like to meet your friends, now while the court and Ton are distracted by the celebration.”

His hands are warm where they settle on your hips, and he doesn’t quite match your seemingly calm disposition but he says nothing.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his usually well-styled hair falling into his eyes as he knocked his forehead against yours, “I’m worried but if you would rather not speak about it, I shall not press you into it.”

You kiss him not because you wished to shut him up but because if today should be your last day of freedom, you wanted to relish all that life had to offer before you’d never be able to again. And, you liked kissing Jean, his lips were soft and he had a habit of biting on your bottom lip when he became particularly enraptured. It made your heart pound and your skin hot, and though you did not know why he seemed to enjoy it, you liked it, just as you liked how his hand fit in yours.

“I’m okay,” you smile, squeezing his bicep to reassure him, “Thank you for asking Jean, I just wish to spend more time with you.”

“You missed me that much?”

He jokes but you can see how his grin does not reach his eyes.

Biting your lip you nod, “I did miss you,” your gaze falls onto the floor and you feel a familiar heat creeping up your neck, “And I think tonight I’d like to lay with you…”

“Are you in earnest?”

You nod bashfully, nervously bouncing on your heels, “I am indeed,” Jean attempts to disguise the almost overjoyed expression he sports but the noise of surprise and utter excitement that radiates off him gives him away, “Though I’m afraid you’ve seen all of my nightgowns so I have nothing to surprise you with.”

“As if I would care about that,” he grins, his nose squishing against your cheek as he kisses your jaw.

You feel strange as the two of you sneak out the back of the castle in search of the knight’s barracks, lighter than you’ve ever been but your chest twinges with discomfort. Though, try as you might, your hands shake and your breathing refuses to remain even. When Jean looks over to you in concern, you placate him with a smile and an excuse, something about nerves, you’re nervous to meet the people he considers family though you’ve seen them in passing. Perhaps you’re afraid of being caught, surely then your hubris would finally come crashing down and implode before you and yet your travels run smoothly. All eyes and ears turned to your parents and the happy couple just as you predicted.

They’re kind just as Jean said, though they cease in their merciless teasing in the presence of you; their future queen.

It might have been their own nerves though it’s more likely that Jean asked them to be on their best behaviour and they were.

Sasha, who you remember as being the girl knocked down on their first day in Gardenia, was kind enough to offer you all the rations she had tucked away, insisting you take something no matter how many times you assured her you were perfectly fine. Connie and Armin were his closest confidants though the two could not be more dissimilar, they talked your ears off; Connie relished in poking fun at all of Jean’s past faults as a young man and Armin with stars in his eyes told you all about the sea. Neither of you had ever had the chance to see it but that did not stop the two of you from dreaming. You liked Armin, though you could not help but wonder why he’d choose to become a knight. The Arlert’s were not the most well esteemed after some schemes committed by his mother and father but you knew his grandfather was liked enough and had more than enough fortune to cover his studies.

It wasn’t until you met Mikasa and Eren that you understood.

They were his closest friends, the only people in the world that he could not live without. When Eren decided he would like to pursue a career as a knight, they too decided they would follow him. Eren certainly was not lacking charm, it was quite clear how one could find themselves enraptured with his whiles and wishes. Though the way his piercing green eyes lingered on your frame bothered you some, he stared openly at you as though he were trying to figure you out. Jean didn’t like it, he sneered and held you close, sure that their lips would be sealed. Everyone had secrets, that much you knew but still you couldn’t help but feel worried.

“Quit it,” Jean grunted, flicking the back of Eren’s head, “Didn’t your mother tell you staring is rude?”

Eren rolled his eyes, “I’m an orphan you dumbass,” though you thought he ought to be sad, you could see the traces of a smirk on his lips, “Did you seriously forget already.”

“She passed when you were ten, it’s not like you were raised by wolves your whole life.”

Jean’s fingers dig into your hip and you shift uncomfortably under their charged stares, “I think it’s time we take our leave,” you suggest, smoothing out your skirts, “If we should like to ensure that we’re not caught.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Jean kisses you, openly like your his to kiss whenever he pleases in front of whomever he pleases. You can’t deny that it makes your heart jump and your belly flutter, but you wonder how it might feel if this arrangement wasn’t temporary. The longer you pondered your upcoming nuptials that seemed to have been set in stone according to Historia, you wondered when you’d have to say goodbye if you’d have to say goodbye. You were stirred from your thoughts by someone grabbing your hand.

It was Eren, who kneeled before you, “Have a good evening, princess,” he mutters, looking up at you through his long, pretty lashes, “Should you tire of Jean’s company you know where to find me.”

With a wink, Eren disappears into the bunks leaving you and Jean alone.

“God, I hate that guy.”

Jean stews, his jaw tight and the muscles in his neck taut. You find yourself wringing your fingers together as the two of you leave. Eren wished to get under Jean’s skin, that much was evident but you didn’t understand why Jean let him, the more he reacted, the more Eren pushed.

“You know, he only teases because you can’t help but react,” you hum, trying to rid your thoughts of Eren and replace them with what lies ahead, “I find it endearing but perhaps next time you should ignore him.”

“You find me endearing?” Jean grins, and you laugh. Of course, that was what Jean would take away.

Humming you smile, “You ask too many silly questions, I wonder if that helmet is leeching your smarts,” you jest and he laughs, “I find you very endearing, Jean but if you preferred I showed you I will.”

“I believe it is I who shall show you this evening.”

You tut, not missing the way he chokes and waffles in his assertion but you’re sure he will. After all, Jean was a man of his word.

Jean proved it to you time and time again and he does once more when the two of you find yourselves holed up in the one place you may find even a moment of solace. He isn’t rough but he is firm as he pushes you against the wall, hands eager in their exploration of your body, and lips greedy as they steal the breath from your lungs. Jean kisses you like he may die if he does not, teeth nipping at your mouth and his tongue warm and wet, desperately lapping at your mouth. But he is gentle, softly squeezing your breasts and hips, and when you let out tiny sounds of affirmation he grows shy.

The two of you never dare traipse past searing kisses and wandering touches, he’d never seen more than the sliver of skin your nightgowns afforded him since that day in the study. Jean certainly wasn’t shy, he enjoyed lounging about your room in a state of undress, but the thought of it all had him halting, his breath stuttering as he held you in his embrace. Slipping off your sheer silk shawl, you took Jean’s hand in yours, guiding it up the length of your body so it rested against your bosom.

“You can touch me wherever you please, my lord,” you say, batting your lashes as you peer at his flushed skin.

You’re unsure why you call him that– lord, it isn’t his title nor is it yours to give but you like how it rolls off the tongue and the mere idea of relinquishing all the power you held to him. Though there wasn’t much to give but it was always you who extended the first olive branch, you who kissed him and dared to leap over the edge all for the chance that you may taste all the pleasures life had to offer.

Jean gently squeezes your breast, you hardly feel it through the thick material of your short stay but the calloused pads of his fingers press into the fat of your tits that spill over your neckline.

Taking his other hand, you hold it against your hip, “Where ever should please you.”

His leg slots between your thighs, the fabric of your dress bunching up in his hand as he exposes your supple skin.

You let out the softest of sighs as he feels you up, your hands trailing down the expanse of his broad chest. Jean dressed so handsomely today, his starch white blouse sheer enough to offer you a view of his lithe muscles. Carefully you remove his cravat from his neck, nimble fingers skating down to unbutton and untuck his shirt from his trousers. Jean shivers when the blunt edge of your nails scrapes against his abdomen, pert pink nipples hardening as you press your cold hands to his chest.

“I’d rather like to please you,” Jean groans, nuzzling his face into your hairline, “Heaven knows there are a great many ways to please one's lover.”

You squeal when his hand wraps around your back, quickly undoing the buttons on your dress ‘til it slipped down your shoulders, “And you know them?” You can’t help but ask, pushing his shirt from his shoulders. They’re broad and freckled, a few scars are spattering across them and his arms like he’s been on the receiving end of a loss one too many times, though he has admitted that he was not the most adept in his early days of knight training, “My, I wouldn’t boast unless you’re certain you can deliver.”

The beginnings of a fire blazed within the depths of his amber eyes, his brows quirking upwards as you posed a challenge to him. It invigorates him and you can’t stop the gasp that tears through you as he tears the strings of your short stay to shreds, your clothing slipping off your frame and onto the floor. Holding a hand to his chest you shake your head and step out of your chemise.

“While I enjoy your bravado, I quite like this chemise.”

Jean laughs but that doesn’t stop him from plucking your hairpins out and tossing them aside like they’re nothing. Pushing his shoulders, you force him to walk backwards until his knees hit the bed and he succumbs to the plush mattress that calls for him. You quickly remove the rest of your jewellery, taking a quick breath when butterflies threaten to make you sick with nerves. You’re bare before him, goosebumps dotting along your arms and stomach from the cool breeze. His eyes are everywhere on you, watching your each and every moment as you kick off your shoes and pull off the white thigh-high stockings that cover your legs.

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you scuttle over to him, your heart pounding though you don a plain face. Tugging on his suspenders you laugh when he jumps back, a loud sound emanating through the room as it smacks against his skin.

“You’re a cruel mistress,” he whines, pulling them off his body, “That hurt.”

“Hush my lord, consider it retribution for the short stay you ruined.”

Resting your hands on his thighs you watch as Jean unclips his trousers, helping him shimmy out of them as he slides further up the bed. At that moment, it all feels too real. You were about to give yourself over to him, allow him to further ruin you and long ago you supposed that you would not have considered it, the idea laughable because he was just a man you gazed upon out your window but now he was your friend, a confidant, and something of a lover. You trusted him to take the utmost care of you, just as he promised to your parents so long ago. Had it been anyone else laid in your bed you would have been nervous but now as you stared at the rise and fall of his chest, you felt nothing but the tendrils of anticipation dance upon your skin until you were positively craving to have him.

“You’re beautiful,” Jean says suddenly, his eyes softening and you know he truly means it. Hooking his hand around your waist, Jean pulls you on top of him, his lips smoothing against your shoulder, “Absolutely radiant, did you know that.”

Your stomach flutters and you allow yourself to glance down between your two bodies. His cock lays against his pelvis and you think he looks like something straight out of a painting, not too far off from all the bodies you gazed upon in the wing that was supposed to be off-limits but you still found yourself there. Jean with all his devastatingly good looks, is far more beautiful than even the most carefully crafted image of a man and you find yourself lucky that you have your own work of art splayed before you.

It had to have been illegal for a man to be so good looking and you briefly wondered just who he prayed to, to have been blessed with such good looks.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

You can’t find it in yourself to say the thoughts that sent you into a hazy fog of lust but you pray that he can read between your words and knows all the things that you cannot bear to say aloud. His stubble tickles the palm of your hand when you caress the side of his face and your heart pangs when he turns to kiss it. Jean was so big beneath you, the heat from his body seeping into yours. You felt intimidated, the feeling registered within you so suddenly but you forced yourself to ignore it because the feeling of freedom was far too sweet and Jean was so easy on the eyes there was little to truly stress upon.

Jean grins up at you, “Thank you, your majesty.”

Rolling your eyes you chuckle.

“Might I service you?”

“Pardon,” Jean chokes, his body going rigid when your fingers are pressed against your pillowy lips. Your tongue lolls around them, coating them in saliva, your eyes never leaving his, “Forgive me but I pray you may enlighten me.”

And you would.

Slinking between his legs you take his length in your head, pleased with how he shivers and shudders, your name but a gasp on his lips as the breath is stolen from his lungs. A pearlescent fluid leaks from the tip of his cock when you gently squeeze him as your hand slowly works up and down his length.

“Is this enlightening enough, my lord?”

“Your majesty I promise you that you do not….”

Jean is quick to shut up when you press your lips to the flushed tip of his cock, “There are a million things that I should not have done,” you declare, your piercing gaze unwavering, “Including being here in this vary room so trust me when I say that I wish to show you how deeply my affections for you run.”

It’s true, the both of you could list a great many things deemed unladylike and improper by society but you cared little what others had to say when it was just you and he in your bedchambers. All that mattered was how the two of you felt about one another.

“Fuck,” Jean curses, the muscles in his pelvis tightening when you take him into your mouth, “Truly you do not have to…”

He finds himself silenced and his nervous chatterings lost between the bliss that is your tongue lavishing his cock. You find yourself grateful that all those romance books you read had far too many erotic scenes for you to learn from. Though, no one aside from you truly needed to know that.

Your head rests upon his thigh, and though you’re a bit clumsy in how you stroke him and lick up his cock, Jean fists the sheets below him, itching to push your head down his length but he busies himself in relishing the heat that builds deep within him. His hips twitch upwards when your free hand drifts upwards, idly twisting and tugging at the curly patch of hair that thins the closer you get to his belly button.

“Do you feel good, my lord?”

You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

Jean nods, his face red and lips spattered in bite marks from where his teeth tore into the flesh. He finds himself barrelling towards his high far too quickly offering you a weak smile when he asks that you stop. His knuckles have gone white from how he grips the bed, his cheeks puffing up and all the muscles in his body are so tightly wound you can see veins popping up along his forearms.

“I do,” he whispers, kissing you without care for where your mouth had just been, “But I think, I’d much prefer to be inside you.”

Helping you onto his lap, Jean now flicks his tongue over his fingers– his slips between your thighs spreading your labia and drawing slow circles into your clit. You jolt and your thighs quiver, your body feeling much too sensitive for him to touch. Jean does it anyway, toying with your cunt until you’re wet and aching for more. You preen and your back arches before you’re wracked with a shudder that spans through your entire body.

“So, what are you waiting for?” You’re unashamed of your whine, your hips rocking to meet the rhythm he sets.

Your stomach tightens and utter need thrums through your veins, nails bite into his biceps and your honeyed sighs are like music to his ears. But Jean likes how you whine, and how your eyes grow rounded and watery when drags things out. Rolling your clit between his fingers and pinching your nipple with his other hand.

“I’d like for you to be trembling before I fuck you,” he says and you cannot help but flush at his crude words, “You’re not trembling, darling.”

But you are; every bit of you aches for more of him, dying a bit when you find yourself without him.

Knocking your forehead against his you pout, “Please Jean, I cannot bear it,” you whine, squealing when he touches you just right, “I need you more than I need air to breathe,” gulping, you pry his hand away from your cunt, “Don’t make me beg, you’re a gentleman aren’t you?”

“But you sound so cute when you do.”

If your face could get any hotter, it would have. But your skin was so hot you’d begun to sweat. Your lips tug into a pout and you have half the mind to pull rank just because you could, though that would certainly suck the fun out of things. You weren’t used to his teasing, never ever truly told no or to wait. Jean, oddly enough quite liked it; teaching you all the ways of the world, but mostly that life was not fair and sometimes … you’d have to wait to get what you wanted.

Jean bites your lip, grinning at the petulant expression you wear.

“You forget yourself, your majesty,” he snips, the tip of his cock rubbing against your slick folds, “I was taught to be an honourable man but I am no gentleman,” the sound of shock you make is muffled when you drop your head into the crook of his neck, “You know that, so you should know I like to have my fun.”

The hand on your hip is soothing as he guides you down on his cock, balmy open mouth kisses are pressed to your collarbone and the underside of your jaw and Jean is slow in his efforts to push your hip down. The stretch stings and it brings tears that prickle the corner of your eyes but you’re distracted by the momentary pain when he presses his thumb to your engorged clit. Your spine is stiff but your legs are jelly and they tremble far too much for your liking.

“And I’m the cruel one?” You spit out, a coquettish squeal escaping you when he pinches your bum, “Jean, you are certainly cruel.”

Your words turn into a sob, it wracks through you and for a moment you cannot breathe. A slew of curses slips out when he finally thrusts into you and you can feel him so deep within you that you find yourself blinking in shock.

But you enjoy it, the slight pain dissipates and you’re left with nothing but pleasure. All at once, you understand why sex was society’s best-kept secret. Surely a kingdom could not be run when lifes most pleasurable pursuits were so enjoyable. And you wondered just how good sex could become once Jean learned your body, beaming yourself five years into a future that the two of you did not have, solely because the fat, bulbous head of his cock rubbed against something within you that had stars blurring your vision, your back arching.

And Jean laughs when you let out a pathetic strangled sound, revelling in how you tug the hair at the back of his neck and moan his name like it is the only thing you know how to say. You suppose you should have been embarrassed, reduced to a needy chit who grew cock-drunk. It was far more enjoyable than being the kingdom's show pony.

Digging your teeth into the supple skin of his shoulder, you groan.

“Are you sure?” Jean questions, certainly feeling emboldened to do so, “That’s not what your body is telling me.”

Jean suddenly isn’t so sweet and a part of you is grateful for that.

Lust with no love was something that you’d be able to cherish, had this evening been something so romantic you were unsure that you could go along with your parent's plan to wed you off. You couldn’t bear it, to be left lovelorn with nothing but memories of when someone loved you.

“What is my body telling you?”

You ask but you know exactly what it’s saying. Your mind is hazy and you feel dazed, all other thoughts but him and how he feels melding away until they were nothing but a bad dream. You kiss him because you can, moaning into his mouth as your bravado crumbles. Your arms give out and leave your breasts squished against his chest, doing your very best to keep your legs steady for him.

“You’re close,” Jean whispered against the shell of your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin.

The noise of affirmation you make is more of a moan than anything else and you can feel his chest rumble when he chuckles. It melds into a moan as you melt against him, your slick velvet walls fluttering around his cock. He’s close too, the grip he has on the fat of your hips strengthens and his thrusts grow sloppy. He’s close but he won’t say anything, perfectly content in goading you to completion, That’s what matters, you, your pleasure, the perfectly sweet sounds you make just for his ears.

“Cum for me princess.”

Jean’s words are saccharine, coated in the sweetest of honey and you have half the mind to do as he says just to please him. You’ve never longed to please a man more than you did at that moment, your breath staggered and your moans pitchy. Desperate and eager, all for him.

You think you do, you’re unsure because your vision has gone a bit spotty and your hips begin to twitch. It’s similar to that night in the study, blinding waves of pleasure coursing over you and leaving you limp on top of him, your chest heaving until your breath steadies. You vaguely register his cock slipping out of your hole, something warm spurting out onto your backside but all you can think is how you begin to miss the feeling of being so deliciously full.

“I love you.”

Jean whispers, you’re sure it's because he thinks you won’t hear him. His arms embrace you and your two sweaty sodden bodies meld together as they always had. Your heart pangs and you feel guilty because you cannot bring yourself to say it back at least not when he’s awake. When sleep calls for him, Jean does not fight it, slipping straight to dreamland in a mere matter of minutes. The familiar sound of his snores reaches your ears and you suppose you should say it too.

“I love you, Jean.”

It feels foreign and wrong like you were never meant to say those four words.

And you realize you were infatuated, it was not love nor was the thrill you felt when the two of you snuck around. You may never know what love is or what it felt like, every moment of these last few months felt straight out of a novel and yet you didn’t feel like they did. You cared so deeply for Jean and you were satisfied with the choices you made because they were your choices but a part of you like this was all wrong.

It may have been the shame that was so deeply engrained within your being but all you knew is that you were wrong to do this to Jean.

A man so easily in love was hard to come by and you were certainly cruel for allowing him to fall when never stood a chance.

Jean was gone when morning came, a small hastily written note tucked beneath your pillow and suddenly it was like nothing had changed. You thought you might feel different that maybe despite your worries that Jean would stay and fight for you, that he would dare declare so publicly that you were his but he didn’t. And you could not expect him to, not if you had any ounce of sense left. Jean deserved a good life and being employed beneath the crown offered him that, a life as runaways did not.

Mina helped you bathed and she dressed you in the pretty new frock that came straight from the modiste yesterday. She was so excited as she dotted rouge along your cheeks and pomade to your lips but all you felt was dread.

Each step you took felt worse than the last and you felt sick to your stomach by the time you arrived at the throne room but you could not let it show.

With the court's eyes on your frame, you had to be the image of radiance and perfection. That you would be, with diamonds clasped around your throat and adoring the ornate crown on your head you were. Though their stares are heavy there was no malicious beneath them, perhaps envy or even awe but never anything more.

“Mother,” you say as your bow to them, “Father, to what do I owe the privilege.”

Your mother sprung out of her seat, caressing the side of your face with a look of pure excitement. It had been some time since she last truly saw you, you wondered if you looked different. You felt different than you had the last time you stepped into this throne room. Historia is there, Marco at her side. Her smile is nervous and you see right through it but you don’t allow yourself to focus on her face for too long.

“Dearest, a fine young man has come to ask for your hand in marriage!” She exclaims, grabbing your hands and giving them a squeeze, “Your father and I would like for you to meet him, he’s come so far to see you.”

In front of the entire court? You think to yourself, trying your hardest not to openly huff in annoyance. Nothing could ever be a private affair unless they decided on it.

“I see,” you nod, straightening your shoulders a bit, “And where does his highness hail from?”

“Eldia, your majesty.”

A familiar voice calls as he steps through the doorway– It was Eren, one of Jean’s fellow knights.

It takes everything in you not to gape or allow your jaw to drop in shock. If you thought him handsome before now he was quite the vision now in a perfectly fitted jacket and starch white blouse. You must have still been dreaming but you were proved wrong when he knelt in front of you, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

“I’m the second-born son to the King Grisha Jäger of the Eldian Empire,” he explains, flashing you all his most dashing smile, “Since my brother Zeke was to take the throne I took to travelling and when I heard the King and Queen of Gardenia had a daughter my age, I must admit my curiosity got the better of me.”

He was lying, he had to have been.

Perhaps there was some truth but you knew that the knights had many years' worth of memories with him but his response seemed to placate your parents. They were hooked, eating up whatever Eren said.

“I’ve never heard of Eldia before,” you snip, your eyes searching for Jean among the crowd, “Where exactly is it?”

Eren smiles, “It’s an island just off the coast of Marley which is southeast of Alicante,” placing his hand on his stomach Eren turns to your father, “I’d be more than happy to provide you with a map that spans far past Alicante’s border.”

“There's no need,” your father said, “Your mother, Carla wrote to me some time ago to expect your arrival.”

“She did?”You ask, “How long ago?”

“At the beginning of the season.”

It began to make sense, Eren must have caught wind of your existence when Jean had been entrusted to you, perhaps writing to his mother and father but you could not fathom just what he was doing now.

Eren bows before your father, “I’m sure she’s told you a great deal but as you know, I am here to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage,” looking up through his green eyes, he looks over at you, “Though should she prefer, I take no issue in courting her before asking for her hand.”

“I think it most sensible,” your mother grins, “What do you think?”

“I think I’d like to speak with his highness if he finds that agreeable.”

“I do.”

Offering his elbow he guides you to the drawing-room adjacent to the throne room, Mina stands in the corner to chaperon you two but with how she’s gazing at the painting above the fireplace you know her mind is elsewhere.

“Are you mad?” You shout the moment the door has been shut, “You know Jean warned me that you were quite the reckless one but asking for my hand when you know that I’m-”

You couldn’t finish, not because it would be unwise or because Mina would gossip. It was because you were not spoken for, not in the way it would matter.

Eren shakes his head, “That is precisely why I have reclaimed my title,” he sighs, “Jean talked at length about you but I did not believe him, only a fool would fall for someone so recklessly!”

“You wish to marry me but you insult me?”

“Listen!”

Lowering his voice, Eren steps closer to you. He smells nice, far better than yesterday when he reeked of sweat and dirt, “I understand that one cannot control one's heart,” he pants, “You and he can never be together and from what I gather you wish to one day take the throne so,” Eren pauses, taking your hand to pull you closer, “We shall marry and you can have your throne, and Jean if that is what you please.”

“And what of you, what do you get out of this?”

“A beautiful wife, a companion, same as you,” Eren says, “And all the funds my father saved for me, they shall be ours.”

“So, it’s about money then.”

Shaking his head, Eren frowns, “No, I’m merely trying to do something kind,” you want to believe him but this sounds all too perfect, “I’m a good man and I’m sorry if my impression has left you thinking otherwise but I seem to have lost myself amongst my comrades,” you notice that his hand is warm when he holds yours, comforting too as he strokes you with his thumb, “But I assure you that my intentions are pure.”

“We’ll have children to carry on the linage but our marriage shall only be paper if that is what you wish.”

“But what do you wish for Eren,” you shake your head, “This is entirely too kind and I cannot fathom how you’d signed yourself away to a loveless marriage for someone you hardly know.”

“Call me a fool but I wish for your happiness.”

“Why?”

Eren swallows, casting his gaze aside, “I believe in something called love at first sight,” he says, his cheeks blooming a bright red, “I have been taken with you since I first laid my eyes upon you so many months ago when you picked Jean to be your knight.”

“You say you love me yet you’re willing to allow me to be unfaithful with another man?” You laugh, “You think me a fool, your highness?”

“Quite the opposite actually but I’d do it if it meant your happiness.”

It felt too unfair but perhaps this was what love was, sacrifice. The willingness to wallow in agony if it meant your paramour may be only touched by warm sunlight and happiness. However idyllic, you could not accept such an agreement. To have two men who loved you, was selfish when some did not even have one, and for Jean to be nothing more than a secret well you do not think you could live with yourself if you did such a heinous thing. Jean deserved to be loved by someone who he could proudly claim as his, someone who did not have to hide their love from all.

Jean deserved far better than you could ever offer.

You knew that the moment your fairytale had begun but you let yourself and he believe that you loved one another more than anyone had loved. It may have been true for him but the doubt that constantly shrouded you was more than enough proof that you were always playing pretend. You liked the attention after a life of hiding away but it was not love.

True love did not hurt nor did it disparage.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Eren echoes.

“I shall marry you,” you mutter, swallowing thickly, “But I do wish that you shall court me like you would any other, I’d like to get to know you before I call you my husband.”

“Are you sure?”

Shaking your intertwined hands, you nod, “I am,” you have to be, “Though that fortune your father intends to give, I’d like it to be given to Jean,” Eren cocks his head but he remains quiet, “Eterna has been in shambles ever since the heir ran off with his lover the second-born son is much too young to take the throne, so I’d like him to be relieved of his duties here so he may bring his wealth to his family.”

“You’re awfully kind,” Eren remarks.

“No kinder than you.”

In truth, you were selfish.

You couldn’t bear to have him witness what was to come so he’d be shipped home. It was a selfish thing to do but if you could spare him even an ounce of hurt, then you would. Jean would be okay, they’d need knights in Eterna but with the riches, you were certain that he could shoot even higher than he ever dared to.

That thought is what kept the guilt from eating you alive when you announced your new relationship to the court. In a matter of days, all of Alicante would know but none of that truly mattered when the man you cared so deeply for gazed upon you with such horror and betrayal.

But, it was for the best.

Sasha had told you, once upon a time he had been taken with Mikasa Ackerman. With you and Eren gone, perhaps he had a chance at the life he envisioned for himself when he was no more than a boy. That’s what you told yourself when you let Eren kiss you though Jean’s eyes burned holes through your body.

Jean would have everything he had ever wanted and more thanks to you, and that's what love truly was.

Giving up all that you had so someone else may be happy.

Eren would be good to you and in time you would love him too. He was charming, well studied, and quite the conversationalist when he didn’t spend all his time staring at you. An amiable husband was more than you could have asked for, so there was no need to pout because in due time you’d forget all about the adventures of your youth. Every detail of Jean that you swore you’d memorized gone with the wind, time was sort of funny that way but perhaps it was because you had to memorize the flecks of blue amongst Eren’s eyes instead.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

You had your summer of romance and would grow content in your partnership, just as all the heroines had done before you. Certainly, you would have learned that your happy end would be just the same as theirs but you were naive back then, too innocent but now you knew.

Love and happiness laid not within the sweeping romance that only existed within the paged of a story but within the bed, you made for yourself.

And you did love Eren, he made you fall in love.

So, though so much had changed it was what you always wanted. A marriage not of convenience but out of love.

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

[mitsuyasangel]

sharing is caring, right? (nsfw visuals)

the way i have requests to do but decided to post this instead

warnings: nsfw content + visuals, MDNI! double penetration (anal + same hole), threesome, bi characters & reader, oral (f&m receiving), handjobs, femdom, praise, consensual recording, fingering

draken + inui

draken had noticed the way inui couldn’t help but stare at him and you whenever you were together. it took draken a while to understand that inui wasn’t just jealous of draken for being with you. there was something else in inui’s eyes: lust. you’re on your knees, those beautiful men standing over you, their cocks already brick-hard in your face. draken keeps on praising you as you suck on their dicks, the way their cockheads touch each other as you try to fit both of them in your mouth, it doesn’t take long before they both come deep in your mouth to then take turns pleasuring you.

mitsuya + hakkai

mitsuya and you had a crush on hakkai, and wanted him to partake in your sex lives. so you just confessed one night you had a bit too much alcohol, and now it was a regular thing. what you love about this arrangement the most, is the way you’re the one in control, playing with their dicks, controlling their orgasm as the men moan your and each other’s names. however you’re never mean to them, and that’s why they aren’t scared to ask you if they can come together in your pussy. a second later, you are bouncing on their cocks with their sensitive balls touching each other as they release their semen in the same hole.

chifuyu + kazutora

chifuyu and kazutora who saw you at their shop once and couldn’t stop thinking about you. you are their exact type, and every time you came in they would flirt with you, making open sometimes crude comments to get you in their beds. and no matter how much self-restraint you have, it finally works and you let the two men play with your body. they’re both fingering you, the pads of their fingers circling on your clit with one shared goal: making you squirt. you thought you’d be the one doing the most work when you let them in your apartment, but they will not even let you touch them until you’ve came on their fingers and faces multiple times.

hina + takemichi

hina and takemichi who had always fantasized about a threesome but didn’t know who they could trust, until you made a joke about it. hina was maybe your friend, but she had always thought you were pretty, and takemichi found you hot too. so they made a proposition that you gladly accepted, and here you are, hina on top of you, her body rubbing against yours, with takemichi’s cock in between your mouths. the two of you licking all over his pretty cock, sucking on his balls and tip in a synchronized way enjoying overwhelming him as he cries both of your names.

sanzu + rindou

you were naive to think they wouldn’t notice and talk about you when you were out there flirting and sexting with them both. they enjoyed making you think you had the power and were the one to play with both of them. that didn’t last though, and you soon found out that they were the ones playing around with you, and that’s you ended up in a bed with them. they’re making you bounce on their cocks, as rindou records it all as a souvenir to remind you where you belong. they’re both mean with you all night but they still make sure you come multiple times on each of their cock.

[mitsuyasangel]

+ dumbification (ish), gn reader

Big, snarky men who lie comfortably on their back and watch as you struggle to take their cock, who feed you disingenuous words of encouragement, "c'mon, you can do it, pretty thing, you were so confident a moment ago!" He doesn't pull his gaze away from yours, "or are you so cock stupid that you need me to make you feel good?"

Big, snarky men who watch you move — licking their lips at the way they stretch your hole, listening to the moans you're trying to hide, watching you slowly gain confidence as you ride them before they suddenly decide they're done being passive,

Big, snarky men who snap their hips and catch you by surprise, who pull you down on their cock and revel in the way your eyes widen, who wait patiently for you to find your words while they fuck you stupid, "ah, doesn't that feel better?" He gasps when your hips give out, "just relax, you're clearly too dumb to do this yourself."

Daichi, KUROO, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Osamu, Ukai, Sugawara, Kita (in my mind), MATSUKAWA‼️

Kaeya, Tartaglia, Kazuha (listen), Ayato, Thoma <33

[mitsuyasangel]

H

too hard? | ushijima wakatoshi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+! ‼️DARK CONTENT (kinda)‼️ skaterat!ushi, smoking, drinking, drugs, noncon photography, dubcon, manipulation, degradation, peer pressure, exhibitionism, neglect, voyerism, crying (im sure i missed some, just lemme know dhjdjsajs)

wc: 5.7k

a/n: this fic was started for the whorehouse toxic collab (i will link the masterlist when i find it lmao)!! a huge thank you to @toxictobio for letting me use her skaterat au, and @blahkugo @thegetoufather & @arvandus for all giving this thing a read and some feedback!! i love you all sm (•̀ᴗ•́)و

This isn’t your scene, not your kinda hangout.

The scuff of worn vans and polyurethane wheels screaming along concrete is slowly giving you a headache, and your best friend’s ditched you; sharing a blunt with some gross skate rat on the lip of a quarter pipe, laughing obnoxiously as he slaps his dirty snapback on her head.

Gross.

You feel eyes on you before you hear him. “Are you a haunted house?” His voice is smug, dickies so tight your eyes linger on his legs too long, and he’s cocking a hip, smirking down at where you sit on the grass. “‘Cause I’d cry if I came inside you.”

“I’m too sober for this.” You grumble, refusing to look back up at him, ignoring the obnoxious laughter floating from his lips, the cackle of a crowd close by, watching your interaction. Three of them, smoking and drinking at the park bench a few feet behind you.

“I’m Oikawa,” he crouches, wrists on his knees, “but you can call me daddy.”

“Daddy?” A deeper voice scoffs, and you both turn your attention to another man as he approaches, lighting the cig in his mouth with a banged-up zippo, grey hoodie wrapped around his waist, white tank pulled tight across a broad chest. “Thought you preferred ‘Great King’?”

Oikawa narrows his eyes and stands up, clearly not one to be looked down on. “What do you want, Ushiwaka?”

The stranger’s dark hazel eyes meet yours. “Same thing as you, it seems.” He exhales smoke, pops open the leg pocket of his black cargos and slips his zippo inside.

You can’t look away, completely hypnotised. There’s something different about this guy, something darker. Less... juvenile than the others.

Oikawa looks between you and this new guy, let’s out a bitter, “psh,” and storms away, his clique in a hysterical uproar as he yells at them about how you “weren’t that cute anyway.”

Still, your eyes haven’t left the man in front of you. He’s maybe the biggest guy here, his arms thick and corded, his shoulders wide and sturdy, his stare completely piercing.

“C’mon,” he orders, nodding his head towards a group of guys sitting in the back of a pickup in the car park, walking towards them without waiting for you to get up.

A beat passes before you scurry to your feet, smooth down the back of your skirt, and work to catch up with him, “uh, what’s your name?” You manage to ask, staring up at him with hearts in your eyes, feeling a little like a lost puppy.

Desperate, even.

“Ushijima,” he grunts, offering you the cigarette from his lips. You’re about to tell him you don’t smoke, when he nods at your bestie, who’s practically dry jumping the brunette with the pussy bangs from before, still at that quarter pipe. “That your friend?” His eyes are on her, and you can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Like he thinks she’s better than you or something.

“Yeah,” you take the cig between your fingers, press it to your lips, hesitate. God, this is honestly the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“Don’t like it?” He asks, a finger under your chin tilting your eyes up to meet his.

Your heart flutters, face heating up under his cold gaze. “No, nothing like that.”

He drops his hand from your face, “slowly breathe it into your lungs,” he says, waiting. You follow his instruction nervously, chest swelling until you’ve got a lungful; it burns. “Good, now let it out—“

But next thing you know, you’re coughing; and you feel like an ass because you were trying to be cool, trying to be sexy and edgy like your bestie, who’s— you spare a glance over at her— got her top off? And there’s another guy pawing at her tits from behind, both men digging their meaty little hands into her skin.

But here you are, bent at the waist, tears in your eyes as you will yourself to stop fucking coughing.

He takes the cig and drops it, worn sneakers snuffing it out as you do your best to slow the pounding of your heart. “Not a smoker?” He asks, either unbothered by the show your best friend is putting on for the entire skate park, or pretending not to care.

“I-is it that obvious?” You ask when you finally catch your breath, fingers wiping the tears at your bottom lashes, wary of your mascara.

“Are you legal?” That severe edge to his eyes is back, chin up as he looks down his nose at you.

“Huh?”

“You look young.”

You start to splutter a bit, “n-no, I’m in college, I swear, I’m just—“

“Not usually like this?” It's mocking, a little cutting, even. He eyes you off for a moment, then keeps on towards the parking lot. “Coming?” he tosses over his shoulder when you don’t follow.

You clench your jaw, his disinterest stinging your pride. You’re entirely too good for these douchebags: too smart, too pretty, too rich. And if this man— this Ushijima— hadn’t come along, you’d probably be pulling your bestie away from those two guys, begging her to take you home.

But your dainty tennis shoes pad along the grass until you’re falling into step next to him, heart swelling when he gives you a little once-over and places his hand on your shoulder. It slides to the back of your neck and squeezes, his other hand coming up to your face as he crouches a little to look into your eyes.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles, maybe to himself, a thumb swiping at a rogue tear by your cheekbone. “And you’re still cute when you’re crying,” a smirk grows in his face, and he takes that thumb into his mouth.

Before you can react, he stands, tugging you against his side and walking you towards the pickup. A sick sense of accomplishment swirls through your stomach, rages like pride, and has you biting your lip to suppress a smile.

“Miracle Boy!” A tall redhead calls, standing up in the back of the sleek, black truck, arms spread out by his sides. “Where’d ya get to?” More heads turn and look at him, at you.

“Or should we say ‘who’?” Someone else asks when you’re mere feet away, his sharp brown eyes glued to you.

Ushijima looks pointedly down at you, a brow raised. It’s then that you realise you didn’t even tell him your name, just ran off with the big guy with minimal invitation.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry; you lick your lips and introduce yourself shyly, the toe of one of your shoes scuffing nervously against the bitumen.

There’s a chorus of nice, and hi, and woof woof, and some introductions, but you’re too wary of the fact that there are no other girls. All guys. Five of them; six including Ushijima.

The lanky redhead— Tendou— calls your name, “I hope you like sambuca,” he says, shaking the bottle. It’s a one litre Smirnoff, but the liquid inside is blue. “It’s my special recipe.”

Ushijima moves his hands to your hips, steps behind you, “going up?” He asks, voice low and deep in your ear.

“Y-yeah,” you barely manage, as two of them —Semi and Taichi— shuffle to accomodate you. Moments later, you’re hoisted up easily, the two boys grabbing a hand each, not giving you a chance to hold the back of your skirt down as you do your best to keep your knees together, bending them to lift your feet over the lip of the tray.

“Ooh, you smell expensive,” Tendou says, grabbing you by the elbow and yanking you towards him, offering you his spot by the back window. “What is that?” He asks, the grin on his face a little off-putting.

“Ah, it’s—“ you start, only to be distracted by Ushijima’s arrival in the back of the truck, the sheer size of him causing the whole thing to jerk and wobble.

His dark eyes fall on you— the rest of the gang shuffling so the space by the back window is bigger—holding out a hand. As soon as you grab it, he pulls you to him, spins you, and tugs you down into his lap as he sits cross-legged.

Tendou plants himself next to you, deviant grin on his face when Ushijima takes the bottle from his hand and has a swig of the special recipe. “It’s stronger than your last batch.” He observes, but there’s no hiss to indicate the statement’s true.

Just drinks it like it’s water.

“I’m trying to perfect it,” Tendou almost sings, slotted eyes falling on you.

“I’ve got beers, Wakatoshi,” Semi offers, elbowing his cooler bag.

“And Goshiki got some weed from Suna earlier,” the ginger in the beanie grins meanly, ruffling the hair of the smaller guy next to him.

“Shirabu, stop it!” Goshiki’s face is red from his nose to the tips of his ears as he swats away the other guy’s hand.

“Yeah, even I gotta admit that was pretty ballsy,” Tendou laughs, taking a drink— and hissing with squinted eyes— when Ushijima gives the bottle back. “He was taking that chick’s shirt off when you went over, right? Surprised you didn’t cum in your pants then and there.”

Are they... are they talking about your best friend?

“Yeah, yeah, then Miya joined in on her when he was digging in his bag for the weed,” Semi laughs, head thrown back.

Conversation about her promiscuity continues, but you’ve bristled, eyes going down to your white tennis shoes, mortified for her. You want to defend her honour, get mad at the group of them on her behalf, but your voice is in your throat, and they’re… well, they’re not wrong.

Ushijima presses forward, his chest at your back, chin resting on your shoulder, lips at your ear, “are they bothering you?” He asks, his voice a deep, breathy whisper against the shell, sending a hazy shiver down your spine. His hands find your hips, fingers drawing slowly up to your bent knees, butterflies swirling in your core; how can hands be so damn big?

He shifts his hands back down a little, squeezes the flesh there. Oh, right, his question.

You turn your head to look at him, only to meet those dark, sharp eyes and melt. Your heart hammers rudely in your chest and you swallow hard, “uh, no,” you lie, and he knows it.

“No?” He presses, hands curling up and under your knees, “are you sure?” His voice is soft, and so is the barely-there pressure he’s putting on your legs, threatening to open them to his friends.

A shiver of anxiety shoots into your stomach as you slowly shake your head ‘no’, eyes so wide they start to water. He chuckles then, the pressure leaving your legs, but his hands lingering there.

Your name is called from the other side, Tendou holding his bottle of booze out for you to take. “Here, have some,” he offers, smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Your hesitation is noticed by everyone.

“It’s okay,” Ushijima breathes in your ear, “it won’t kill you,” he assures you. You feel all eyes on you, the pressure to perform an itch only taking the bottle can scratch.

So you do.

You bring it to your lips after giving Ushijima one last glance, and tip the bottle back. First little mouthful makes you want to cough, but the pressure has you swallowing that down with the almost burning anise flavour tickling your tongue.

You're about to give the bottle back when a hand stops you from taking the bottle from your lips, keeping the base of it up in the air. "A little more, hmm?" Tendou offers, brows raised.

"You can take it," Ushijima adds, fingers rubbing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

So you do.

More heat slides down your throat as you take another mouthful, Ushijima squeezing you harder, Tendou raising the base of the bottle higher. The other guys are cheering, drinking their own drinks, as you take one final sip and push the bottle away.

"Good girl!" Tendou cheers, downing his own shot.

You're hissing, tears gathering on your lashes at just how strong that shit is, but before you can say or do anything, one of Ushijima's hands is at your jaw, angling your head towards his, his mouth capturing yours.

His tongue is hot, wet, slimy against your own, the licorice taste lessening as he drinks it from your mouth, your brain fuzzy with how domineering the kiss is, how hard he's gripping your jaw. You're about to twist in his lap, hands reaching for his face, when he pulls away, eyes on yours, before they shift past you and he leans back.

"I'll take a beer," he says to Semi, hand leaving your jaw to reach towards him.

Your head is swimming— either with confusion, or the alcohol you’ve just ingested— but you find that the longer you sit there in Ushijima’s lap, the less confidence you have in his attraction for you. You become an afterthought, a leg warmer.

He doesn’t touch you, he doesn’t kiss you. He doesn’t even acknowledge you.

So when Tendou gives you the attention you’re craving from the bigger man— another sip of his sambuca, some Doritos from his party packet— you soak it up.

It’s not too much later— or is it?— that you’re swaying, giggling with Tendou about how blue his tongue is, making him take a picture of yours to prove yours is just as blue.

“It is!” You nearly squeal, wriggling in Ushijima’s lap to get a better look at the picture.

Despite your apparent closeness with Tendou, Ushijima keeps you on his thick thighs; doesn’t let you wander too far for too long, before those large, large hands are wrapping around your waist, an arm, your hips, and tugging you back to safety.

Goshiki’s passing around a blunt, and when Ushijima takes it, his lips go to your ear, “open your mouth,” he orders, fingers tugging your hair into complying. He sucks it deep, then presses his lips to yours for the second time tonight, his tongue prying your lips open.

“Open your mouth and suck it in,” Tendou urges, cold, spindly fingers digging into your thigh, lips at your ear.

You choke immediately. The smoke is a painful burn and has you in tears almost instantly, but you’re more concerned with how the big man perceives you, scared you’re not enough for him, that you’re too lame to be the girl he’s picked to sit in his lap.

“S-S-sorry Ushi—” you’re crying, back to Tendou, fingers pulling at Ushijima’s tee as you croak, your whole chest burning. He pulls your hair, tugging you back to look down into your watery eyes, smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Cute,” he says, eyes moving past you. “See? Told you,” your head is pulled sideways, eyes met with the piercing black-brown gaze of the redhead you’ve been giggling with for the past forty-five minutes.

“Mmm,” the redhead grins, “you sure can pick ‘em, Miracle Boy,”

Everything feels just a little hazy, your body a little heavy, a little… slow, “Wakatoshi, show us,” comes a call from your left, and your face is jerked their way, a low whistle leaving the lips of Semi. “Not wrong,” he grins, side-eyeing Taichi, slapping him a low-5.

“They like you, too,” Ushijima whispers in your ear, breath hot, almost a purr, “how does that feel, hm?” Sick satisfaction starts to bloom across your skin, settles in your chest and trickles slowly down to your core, has you pressing your thighs together.

The snarky ginger doesn’t let the movement slide, “wow, you did pick a good one tonight, Wakatoshi,” he almost cackles, “bet she’s all sloppy from the praise.”

“Hey, none of that,” Tendou scolds, taking the heat from you as you try and process why he’s right. Your underwear is impossibly wet, and if you focus enough, you’re sure you can even smell it. The thought has you clamping your legs together even tighter, your face and ears burning ridiculously hot with shame.

“You like it,” Ushijima says, those hands on your waist, fingers splaying across your tummy, fingertips tickling dangerously close to your core. “Don’t you?”

Somehow he makes you forget about the others, his deep, deep voice hypnotic, those big, big hands distracting.

“Wanna be good,” you mumble, wriggling in his hold so you’re facing him, wiping your tacky tears with the back of a hand before settling both on his shoulders.

“I can tell,” he straightens his legs and you adjust accordingly, straddling him, legs wide over his thick thighs, “but how far will you go?”

He’s too hot, too GQ, too perfect. Strong jaw, sharp eyes, thick brows— handsome, in the most devastating way. A god among men, and he’s letting you sit with him? Letting you touch him?

He chose you?

Wait, what was he saying?

He kisses you, hands pressing against you roughly as he draws the breath from your lungs and crunches your sweater up beneath your bra. It’s intoxicating, the way his tongue moves against yours, how warm he is against you.

His hands move you: raise your hips, curve your lower back, tug up your skirt a little. You protest some then— the cool night air hitting your thighs and ass— but he swallows your foggy little moans, distracts you with his teeth pulling at your bottom lip.

Fingertips dig into the half exposed flesh of your ass, “you wanna be good?” His voice is cracking, thick with breathlessness from the kiss. Your kiss.

“Mhm, yeah,” you nod, eyes half-lidded, the butterflies in your tummy multiplying and growing and exploding.

“Yeah?” He hums, tilting his head as he regards you, “you’re sure?”

“Mmm,” you nod, wriggling your ass, unaware of the show you’re giving the rest of the boys.

“Promise?” He presses again, pulling your panties between your cheeks and tugging up sharply.

“Ah, yeah!” You keen, face falling onto his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as he pleasures you with your own underwear. Thick fingers loop in the elastic waist and tug down, fully exposing you to the night air.

And you hear a distinct click.

A memory flashes through your hazy brain, Tendou taking a picture of your tongue—

“You wanna impress me, pretty girl?” Ushijima asks, before you can think too hard on it; his teeth at your earlobe, low baritone voice sending shivers through your bones. His fingers knead the globes of your ass, the tips dangerously close to your centre, and you want nothing more than to melt into him. “Uh-ah, hips up,” he corrects you lowly when you relax against him.

“S-sorry…” you mumble, gaining a chuckle in return.

“Shh,” he soothes, one of his hands leaving your ass to snake beneath you, fingers sliding against your messy lips. You’re trembling as you try and get closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his ear.

His fingers are thick and lazy as they explore you, and your legs shake with the effort of keeping your ass in the air. But he encourages you with soft words, his voice blocking out any outside noises; even that persistent click, click, click, you think you keep hearing.

You’re embarrassingly close to orgasm when he stops his fingers, “maybe we should head somewhere a little more private,” and it’s said louder than anything he’s whispered to you tonight, his voice carrying and mean, urges you to pull away from him a little and clears the fog of arousal and too-strong alcohol.

Mortification and panic follow the chuckles and snorts of contained laughter when you toss a look over your shoulder and remember where you are, tears immediately filling your eyes. You collapse onto Ushijima’s thighs and push away from his chest, anger and betrayal squeezing your stomach, threatening to bubble up and spill from your trembling lips.

“Don’t be upset,” Tendou interjects, leaning towards you, a little too close for comfort. “It’d be a real shame if Wakatoshi didn’t share you with us, wouldn’t it? Look, little Tsutomu’s already about to cream his jeans,” he says placatingly, urging you to turn your teary gaze his way. Sure enough, Goshiki’s fully flushed, both hands pressing against his crotch, hiding his bulge from you with a guilty look on his face.

“I bet,” Ushijima leans closer to you, hands on your waist, “you could make him cum without even touching him.”

“Ooh, the power,” Tendou adds, long fingers petting your hair gently.

You sniffle, level a glare with Ushijima, “Y-you tricked me,” you mumble through pouty lips.

He smiles, “I’m not nice, but I’m good,” he gets in close, lips ghosting yours, backing up his words by sliding those strong, precise fingers up your shirt, toying with your hard nipples over your bra. “You wanna feel good?”

“Yes,” you arch into him, eyes sliding shut instantly. “I wanna feel good,”

He kisses you slowly, all tongue and teeth, grinds up against you teasingly, leaving you wanting, “you mind being watched?”

Those sharp eyes challenge you, warn you. His forehead presses against yours, noses squishing together almost tenderly, the juxtaposition of his actions and words both jarring and confusing.

“To be fair,” Tendou starts softly, sliding closer to Ushijima, “we’ve already seen it all,” his eyes follow his fingers as they draw down your thigh. “Wouldn't be too nice to leave us all hanging, would it?”

You toss a look at Tsutomu and Shirabu over your left shoulder, Semi and Taichi over your right, “you… wanna watch?” You ask, eyes still on Taichi.

His own go wide, glance over to Semi, then past you to Ushijima, back to you, “I— uh, yeah,” then he drops your gaze, presses his thighs together.

“And you?” Tsutomu jumps when you direct the words at him, hands pressing down harder on his bulge, a groan tearing from his throat as his eyes snap shut, socked toes curl.

You don’t get to wait for an answer— not that you need it— Ushijima’s lips pressing to your exposed neck; his hands push your shirt up as his tongue tastes your skin, melting you into him, a fresh wave of slick rolling from your neglected cunt.

It’s freeing, letting go. Your hands raise at his silent prompting, sweater tugged over your head and tossed somewhere, his huge hands crowding your back, his mouth latching onto a tit through your little lacy bra.

A shudder rolls through you, head falling back with a whine, and you hear another groan behind you— the telltale sound of Tsutomu— some light chuckling and murmuring from the other boys.

God, you’re doing it.

You’re really gonna let this man fuck you in front of his friends; the very thing you were so disgusted to see your best friend doing.

And Ushijima’s so shameless about it, licking and sucking at your skin like a man starved, the slurping loud and erotic as he covers every inch of your neck, your shoulders, unclipping your bra and assaulting your chest.

“U-Ushi…” your fingers are tangled in his hair, tearing and tugging, his own hands pulling you closer in response, a slow growl rumbling through his chest as he hungrily sucks a hard kiss-mark into the fat of your breast. “Hurry up,” you frown, tugging him away from your chest by the hair, pressing your lips to his, “‘m really ready,” you mumble, feeling so wet it’s uncomfortable, “promise,”

“Oh, baby,” Tendou coos, fiddling with some papers, rolling something up between nimble fingers, “I promise you’re not,” he giggles, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Turn around,” Ushijima urges, large hands dwarfing your hips.

Your hands cover your naked breasts as he turns you, four pairs of eyes ogling your form shamelessly as they drink their alcohol and smoke their cigarettes.

“B-but—“ you whimper, large eyes staring at Ushijima as he positions you between his spread legs. “I wanna look at you,”

“You will,” he says lowly, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’ll get your reward… but you need to work for it.”

“That, and he’s gotta stretch you out properly,” Shirabu mumbles, catching your attention. The rest of the boys chuckle nervously at that, and a hand is pressing between your shoulder blades, urging you forward.

“Hands and knees,” Ushijima orders, and before you can really think about it, you’re letting go of your breasts and lurching forward— almost barreling into Tsutomu’s outstretched legs— Ushijima’s big hands lifting your hips and positioning you how he wants you.

Shame flows through your veins, your whole body growing impossibly hotter, yet still buzzing with excitement. A swift look to your left would have you practically staring into Semi’s eyes, if his own weren’t currently glued to your swinging tits.

You’re about to turn back and say something to Ushijima when two fingers slide into you, sending your eyes wide, and tearing a yelp from deep in your throat. So deep, you think, unable to compute anything else, numbing mind drowning in the pleasure, in just how long and thick his fingers are.

Your elbows buckle when he enters a third finger, your upper body collapsing against the cool metal of the tray, face resting against your forearms as you whimper and moan, Ushijima’s free hand grips your hip as you start to wriggle and press back into him.

“She’s doing so well,” Tendou coos, his voice close. You look up in time to watch the redhead flip your skirt up, exposing your ass and hips to the cool night air.

“Don’t touch her, Satori.” Ushijima grunts, voice low and clipped.

“I didn’t touch her skin, Waka-chan, it was her skirt,” he laughs airily, getting close to Goshiki and squeezing his ass between the younger man and his cooler. “Only children don’t know how to share, right, Tsutomu?”

But he can’t take his eyes off you, and as soon as your watery gaze meets his, he reddens.

“Say his name,” Tendou whispers, leaning closer to you, impish grin growing.

“Sh-shut up, Tendou—”

“He’ll cum—”

“Tendou!” He gawks, swiping at the taller man, narrowly missing his shoulder.

Something changes, then; curiosity and the alcohol and the stimulation warping your brain, your subconscious disregarding that superego it’s clinged so strongly to. “Tsutomu…” you moan, biting your lip, blinking your lashes up at him.

He gasps and opens his mouth, but Ushijima mustn't've liked his name slipping from your lips, because he grips your hip and ups his pace, a wanton howl spilling up your throat, eyes rolling.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, ragged, burying your face in your arms again, before he hits too deep and you’re pushing back up to gasp for air. “N-no, Ushi— I’m—”

It feels so good — too good, even. He’s pulling sounds so dirty and pornographic from you, that you don’t even feel like yourself; but the best part is, you don’t even care. Ushijima quirks his fingers and your orgasm shoots through you like a freight train, your pussy clenching and squelching as he works you through it, your lips trembling as you whimper and drool all over your arms.

There’s talking between the guys, but your ears are ringing, your ability to focus completely unravelled, your whole being focused on revelling in the high of your orgasm. Until you’re pulled back up into Ushijima’s lap.

“Good girl,” he breathes, rocking his clothed cock against your messy thighs. “You did so, so well,” he praises you, large, wet hand squeezing your cheeks together and pulling you in for a kiss.

You’re absolutely shameless from then on out, pawing at him, sucking lewdly on his tongue. If getting raunchy and handsy is a turn-on for him, it’s something you’re willing to do.

“Hurry up,” you pant against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair. “Wanna fuck,”

He chuckles, sends a look over your shoulder to Tendou, “here?” He asks, deep golden eyes back on yours.

You keen back in affirmation, begin to push the singlet up and over his abs, his pecks, “Take this off.”

“You sure you don’t wanna go in the truck?”

You pout then, “you don’t... want me?”

That chiselled jaw clenches, he sucks his teeth.

Seconds later, he reaches between the two of you to unzip his pants and pulls his cock out, “Hips up,” he orders, one hand fisting the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, the other reaching for your pussy, fingers dipping into you and smearing your essence over his cockhead.

You blink at him, “b-but… a condom—”

“A condom?” Tendou laughs, sitting back in his original spot, three inches from Ushijima, phone in his hand. “You think this man wants to wear a condom?”

“Should we stop?” Ushijima asks, eyes regarding you cooly. Too cooly.

“N-no,” you shake your head, raise your hips and position yourself over him. There’s a bit of an ache in your heart trying to push its way through to your brain, but you squash it down, the need to be wanted outweighing any and everything else right now.

“You’re so, so pretty like this,” Ushijima praises you, littering your chest with kisses, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking.

It momentarily distracts you from the unimaginable stretch his cock causes as you slowly sink onto him, and — as Tendou kindly points out — you’re doing so well taking his cock, until it just. Keeps. Going.

“It’s… that’s way too deep,” you gasp, unable to sit up straight, your smaller frame collapsing against his broad chest as tears well up in your eyes.

“Almost,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, voice deep and husky.

But you feel like he’s in your stomach, pushing his way up to your diaphragm; the pleasure’s a dull throb beneath the burning ache of taking something far too fucking large inside you. “Ow…” you groan, nails digging into his tanned skin, drool slipping from your lips, tears from your eyes. “Is it… in?” You whine when he stops moving.

He only hums in response, and you relax some, but then he flexes his hips, and you yelp as he sinks in even deeper. “So tight,” he hisses.

Glassy eyes watch as he groans and tosses his head back, exposing that thick neck and Adam’s apple to your drooling lips, your gnawing teeth. It’s all you can do to stop from crying— tasting and nipping at his sweaty, salty skin— and he doesn’t seem to hate it, if his low growl is anything to go by.

Despite what your body probably needs, he doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size.

“Shit,” he gasps, those huge hands grabbing your ass, squeezing your flesh, then lifting you and slamming you back down on his cock.

“Ah!” You yelp, scrambling now, nails scratching along taught, clammy skin, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto.

But he’s got you, thick arms circling your body, a hand at the base of your neck, the other pushing on your lower back, pressing you closer to him. It’s almost suffocating; you can’t move, can’t even breathe, but it’s so good.

You’re a doll, a puppet holding onto him and accepting everything he’s giving you. Every thrust, every squeeze of his arms; in the back of your brain you’re registering just how painful his fingertips are, just how deep they’re pressing into your flesh. And it makes you proud, the thought of him marking you, the idea of looking into the mirror tomorrow and seeing his fingerprints bruised into your skin.

You’re pulled out of your lull by his breath at your ear, “Say my name,” he whispers, seated deep inside you.

“Ushi—“

“Wakatoshi,” he corrects you, tugging at your hair so you meet his gaze.

“W-Wakatoshi,” you’re coy, matching his whisper, watery eyes looking into his. They’re pretty, you think, with flecks of gold and green and copper. Earthy.

He chuckles, “thanks,” then he’s pulling you to meet his lips. “Gonna cum deep inside you,” he promises, licking your teeth, using his own to pull at your bottom lip. “You’ll never be able to forget me.”

All you can do is groan, nod frantically, beg for it.

Your moans are a mixture of his name, of yes, of please, as he bounces you on his cock, as he kisses you, sucks at your skin, drags his teeth along it. It’s intoxicating, your world spinning as you near the edge of release, as he thrusts into you, all wet slaps and needy grunts.

He cums before you can, but fucks you through his own release. The warmth, the fullness, his lips cursing your name against your ear, have you coming undone around him. He swears again as you tighten up, those lethal fingers holding you prisoner as you come down from your orgasmic high, as the world around you spins.

You’re exhausted then, slumping against him, eyelids feeling more than heavy. Voices mumur and whisper behind you, Ushijima’s chest a low rumble of his own words. Then you’re moving, more than two hands on you, sitting you up straighter.

A second wind has you jerking away, panic lacing your bones. But then something big and warm is being pulled over your head, Ushijima helping you pull your head through soft cotton, your arms through too-big sleeves.

“Shh, sleep.” He mumbles, and it’s only then that you realise it’s the hoodie he had wrapped around his waist when you first met him. It’s huge, covering more than your actual outfit from this evening, you realise as he curls you up in his lap, pulls the hood up and over your head, gets you comfortable.

As you wriggle against him, covered in his scent, in his warmth, you begin to register how sticky you feel between your legs, the thought of his thick cum seeping out of you oddly satisfying. He wraps an arm around you, cradling you like something precious.

“She’s good,” you hear Ushijima mumble as your eyelids grow heavy again.

“Out of ten?” You think it’s Tendou.

“Hmm…” You fight to stay awake, to hear his answer. “We’ll make final decisions when we watch the playback.”

Vague confusion passes through you, before you finally fall asleep.

You’re going to hate yourself in the morning.

[mitsuyasangel]

𓈈 ❛ YOU KNOW I DO. ♡ ❜ ˏ ˏ eren jaeger

ᨒ warnings . fem reader , black coded reader ! , best friends -> lovers ( ? ) / best friends with benefits . . i dunno , lotsa flirting , fingering , oral sex ( f -> m ) , both reader + eren are tipsy off wine , squirting , creampie , unprotected sex , use of daddy ( only twice ) , pet name usage ( ex. pretty, good girl, pretty girl ) , slight dubcon ( reader doesn’t wna make a mess , eren kinda forces you to ) , sex flashback mentioned , mention of reader havin tummy rolls when she’s folded up , don’t care how tall you are eren’s taller than you , characters are aged up to their early twenties ! ᨒ word count . 6.1k ᨒ kreamie'z note blep ! :3 in honor of my favorite boy’s birthday ! here it is ! ! ! haven’t posted in like . . a month. i’m sawry :c forgive lil ol me </3 pls tell me if i missed anything in da tagz ! rbs appreciated ! && minors, for the love of fawkin christ, do not interact ! ! 

i’m outside.

eren lets his phone drop back inside of the cup holder on his armrest after the text shoots through with a small ping!. i’m not a succulent or a sucker, baby girl. these roots made me, i bring my flowers to the world. his head nods slowly to the steady, rise and fall tempo of the beat echoing through his bmw m4 coupe’s speakers and he lets his hands fall from gripping the lower portion of his steering wheel to drop limply on his lap when realizing two, three, four minutes have passed and you still haven’t exited your building yet.

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” he murmurs underneath his breath, preparing to grab his phone to instead call you this time, only to watch the metal gate of your apartment complex swing open as you come walking out the second he clicks on your contact name.

in all sincerity, eren considers himself to be a simple guy. he sees something he likes, he appreciates it. something he dislikes, he’ll say it.

when he sees you start to walk to his car, dressed in a thin strapped, hot pink, curve hugging sundress that reached your ankles with a high slit to show off those fuzzy slides he loves when you wear with each step you take, eren habitually spreads his legs just a little bit wider. he does this every time he sees you and he doesn’t really know why — or, to plainly speak and to be completely honest, he doesn’t know why his dick goes rock hard after every single time he steals a simple glance of you.

“hey,” you breathe out and give a pretty smile when the passenger door’s open and you’re letting your hefty, marc jacobs tote bag drop onto his lap. eren usually makes fun of you for having a bag so big and is quick to make a snide comment about the accessory each time he sees you wearing it, however today, his complete and total focus is just on you, you, you.

he hums, letting his eyes openly cart themselves down the length of your frame. “you look good.”

when you’re buckled in and the door’s shut, he gets a nice nose full of strawberry poundcake. his dick grows harder.

you playfully roll your eyes and snatch your bag from his lap to plop it onto yours then adjust the strap of your dress to pull the front of it up higher to keep your tits from spilling over the scoop neck. “i know.”

Afficher davantage

#attack on titan smut #aot fanfiction #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #eren fanfiction #eren smut #attack on titan eren #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger x y/n #aot smut #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin smut #snk smut #snk x you

[mitsuyasangel]

18+ / mdni

warnings ▪︎ perv!kuroo x shy!fem!reader; dumbification; a dash of size kink; noncon groping; fingering under the table in public; internal dialogues written in italic; barely proofread

a.n ▪︎ i don’t like being called shy cuz when you say that, it makes me shy 😭 ya get what i mean?? the convo below is almost a word for word of what happened to me the other day which made me lose my fcking mind, so here i am projecting it onto writing — as always.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

“why are you so quiet?”

a voice to your left whispers into your ear as you swirl the metal straw of your milkshake.

startled, you peek over at kuroo, a mutual friend of yours who is a recent addition to the group, and hesitantly glance across the booth at bokuto and his girlfriend who seems to not have noticed this interaction.

Afficher davantage

#wonder what happens after talking to a writer and accidentally activated their kink? #you get featured in their fics 😌 #@ that guy on discord if you're seeing this– i- no i'm not shy okay😭 #y'all should've heard the way he talked to me- no one has ever made me feel that flustered #haikyū!! #haikyuu #hq thirst #haikyuu thirsts #hq smut #haikyuu x female reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x female reader #kuroo thirst #tw.dumbification #tw.size kink

[mitsuyasangel]

✧˖*°࿐ synopsis + warnings — the maneater has latched onto armin arlert at friday’s frat party. ( she/her pronouns, reader has female anatomy, black reader, slight submissive armin, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, oral (m.receiving), breeding, pet name usage [baby boy], repost of an old smut that tumblr oddly cut off a huge portion of it when i posted it, minors dni )

© 2021 dejwrites, please don't repost & plagiarize work.

SHE WAS QUITE DEADLY WHEN HER TEETH LATCHED ON HER NECK VICTIM. Armin knew this, he knew this because of the hush whispers in his Biology lab course as his two lousy partners watch a recording of a clip from her Onlyfans account (which is quite odd considering that they swore last class they weren't going waste their money on a slut). Armin didn't particularly know how the hell he became her neck victim. The start of Spring Break has kicked off with a party filled with drunken college students and here Armin was lip-locking with the campus maneater [Y/N] herself. The taste of cheap beer on his tongue collided with the taste of the jungle juice Sean from his Chemistry class made. Her acrylic nails combed through his short blonde hair to tug him closer to her body.

Which just by feeling her plump breasts on his chest, caused Armin's cheeks to stain the prettiest shade of red and for his crotch area to grow ten times tighter in his dark-washed colored jeans.

"We've only kissed and you're already about to cum in your pants," [Y/N] smirks at him as her fingers traced the waistline of the jeans Armin was wearing.

"What are you going to do about it?" He questioned. He stared at [Y/N] with such an intense yet nervous stare.

"What do you want me to do, Armin?" She asked, standing so close to the blonde-haired male. So close that she probably could smell the beer that lingered off his lips.

Her fingers rubbed at the bulge, causing Armin to twitch at her touch. It's been a while since he had gotten touched like this by a woman. To say the campus Maneater was feeling him like this, no one would believe him. Not even his friends. It wasn't any secret that the woman in front of him chewed men up and spit them right back out when she was done with them. He's seen her around campus, and he took note of the men that chased after her. He didn't have any of those qualities those guys had. Armin would have thought for her next victim to be Eren or Jean.

His back was pushing further into the wooden door. You two could hear Sold Out Dates by Gunna vibrate off the closed door due to it blasting downstairs for the party guests. Armin stared at [Y/N]. He swallowed the massive lump in his throat, completely lost. The alcohol caused his mind to be a twisted up mess, and the looks [Y/N] was giving him didn't help either.

"Tell me, Armin," She cooed, her fingertips traced alongside the band of Armin's brief now that she took it upon herself to unbutton his jeans. She smirked, feeling him shiver at her touch.

His innocence was what attracted [Y/N] to him. The way he got flustered, the way his face turned to the shade of a tomato when she flirted with him. As she looked at him, she would begin to place kisses on his neck. His head leaning to the side to give her more access to his pale exposed skin, she could feel him tense up. "Relax." [Y/N] assured against his skin as her plump glossed covered lips kissed upon his skin.

As [Y/N]'s lips were decorating his neck with kisses and nibbles, her hands climbed inside his briefs. When her warm hands felt comfort in Armin's briefs, she felt the mess he made for her in his pants. Precum staining the tip of his dick, she smirked against his neck. Feeling the sticky white substance on her fingers as she tugged her hand out his briefs, her fingers going into her mouth to lick up his cum willingly.

"Shit." was the only words that escaped Armin's mouth as he watched her lick his precum off her fingers. He felt even more turned on now, his dick twitching in anticipation at the beauty in front of him.

She let out a giggle at his response before pushing his briefs down and letting them drop to his ankles. Armin's dick sprung out his briefs beautifully, tapping his stomach as he stood against the door.

The young woman eyed his dick. Armin's cheeks felt like they were on fire. He wanted to know what was going through her mind as she was shuffling to get on her knees at the moment. Was he more diminutive than the usual guys? More extensive than the typical guys? Maybe, he shouldn't have been thinking about that when her perfect hands were about to wrap around his dick. The thickness of his dick caused [Y/N] to chew at her lower lip. He was thicker than others, which took her by shock. But they always say the shy ones were the ones to look out for.

[Y/N]'s lips kissed his tip that was decorated with his precum. Armin watched as his dick disappeared bit by bit in the woman's mouth. His body relaxed at the way her tongue glided around his shaft. "Fuck." Armin muttered.

The pool of saliva that was beginning to decorate the bathroom's marble floor due to [Y/N]'s intense sucking could cause any man to cum. Her mouth moved effortlessly to take all of Armin into her mouth. Her eyes began to crystalize with her own tears feeling the tip of his plump pink tip hit the back of her throat. The pornographic gagging sound followed by [Y/N] pulling away from his dick gasping for air. A slick line of saliva connected from her mouth to Armin's hardened member.

Feeling her mouth detach from him left the blonde-haired male flustered, her hand grasping around him. Which soon her hand was stroking up and down his hardened dick. His body was jerking aggressively at the touch of hers. Armin's head fell back just to be met with the wooden bathroom door.

"Don't cum." [Y/N] says, her saliva coated her face as she placed her plump lips on his head once more.

"But if you keep doing that-"

She had cut him off, climbing off the bathroom floor. Her hand still stroking his dick. It was as if the woman had complete control of the situation, and she wasn't letting up any time soon. Armin's chest heaved up and down as he glanced down, seeing how fast her hands were moving up and down on him. She leaned forward, her lips inches away from his. "Do you want to cum, Armin?"

"Please [Y/N] let me cum," Armin says.

The woman placed a peck on his lips. Her hands that were once on his dick were removed. Leaving Armin slumped against the door to stare down, he felt like she was holding his climax in front of him. Each time when he was ready to crumble, she taped him right back up to help break him down again.

"Well, fuck me, Armin. If you want to cum, prove yourself to me."

The way [Y/N] dripping wet pussy had clenched around Armin's dick caused the sweet innocent Armin to groan. It was like a puzzle missing a couple of pieces, and it was finally beginning to be finished. As [Y/N] was adjusted to Armin stretching out her wet walls, Armin also had to get used to the feeling he hasn't felt in a while. The young college student let out a huff as his fingers grasped for the exposed skin on [Y/N]'s waist. [Y/N] raised her pastel pink colored dress, and her red lace panties were on the floor.

"You okay?" She questioned him, her hips jerking to feel some friction between them, growing a bit impatient.

"Mhmm." Armin hummed, "Sorry, It's just been a while." He admitted. He didn't want to let the woman whose face was pressed against the door while her nicely shaped ass was exposed to him at the moment down. She would probably laugh at him if he came too early.

"I can take control if you like."

Her words caused him to pause. Would it be too weird to have her take control? He wanted to fuck her to the point that she was a cumming mess. He wanted to make sure she enjoyed it also. "If you would like." He said lowly. His dick twitched inside of her just by the thought of it, which just the thought of it caused an exciting tingle to shiver down his spine.

Armin watched as those plump lips curled into a smirk, her hands reaching behind herself to place his hands tighter on her waist. She began to rock backward onto Armin's hard dick. The blonde-haired male gripped at her waist, feeling the sudden feeling of her tight wet walls around his dick. The feeling of pleasure felt so much better than his hand when he was in the privacy of his bedroom. A low moan escaped his lips as he tried to catch his balance as she was fucking him. He leaned forward, just wanting to be more closer to the woman who was fucking him at the moment. His hand placed on the door in front of him as his other hand nabbed at her waist.

[Y/N] was moving at a slow pace that was driving Armin insane. He wanted her to move faster. His dick was craving more than her slow teasing movements. "Go faster," Armin said.

"For you to cum before me, I don't think so." [Y/N] said, her hips moving even slower now. Her low moans echoed the bathroom as she fucked Armin.

Armin couldn't help but smirk. She made sure to get her orgasm before the man. Smart. She picked up the pace, her hips back up into his at a steady pace. This time the two of them were enjoying it. Armin let a groan escape from the back of his throat. His fingers nails dug into [Y/N]'s plush brown skin as she backed up onto his dick. Armin's hips began to buck back, meeting her movements on his dick.

"Stop. I said I'll do it. Let me fuck you, Armin," Her voice said through breathless moans.

Armin froze up at her words. His palm that he placed on the wooden door behind her relaxed. "Sorry." He apologized.

"Stop apologizing," [Y/N] said. "Just relax and let me do the work," she says as she looked back at him. Her eyes filled with a hunger for the boy that had her bent over and face buried on the wooden door.

Her lips parted to apologize, a bizarre habit the shy boy had. He was letting out a sigh before his body relaxed, feeling her hips back up into him once more. This time she was going faster than she previously was. A moan was escaping Armin's's lips feeling his dick travel through her walls. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the music's vibrating sounds that were blasting through the house.

"Fuck." Armin muttered, his hand on her waist as her hips moved on his dick. Beads of sweat trickled his hairline, his long fingers combing his hair that was previously neatly combed out his face.

"You like that, Armin?" [Y/N] questioned, her ass slapping against his nicely toned thighs as his dick was inside of her. "Tell me how good I'm fucking you, baby boy," she moaned out.

The way baby boy rolled off her tongue caused the blonde-haired male to smirk. He enjoyed her calling him that. His hand was gripping at her waist. "You're going make me cum," He said over the sound of her moans.

"You better not cum." [Y/N] snapped, her movements only growing quicker. She could feel his fingernails clawing at her skin under the dress.

"But-"

"No buts. I cum first," She adds, her ass back up against his hard cock with so much enthusiasm. Her teeth were grazing her bottom lip as she was so close to cumming all over the poor innocent man's dick. Feeling his dick inside her gummy walls caused the blonde-haired male to become a moaning mess. He now understood why previous men [Y/N] dealt with were so eager to figure out why she wasn't answering his phone calls or texts.

If she were fucking them like this, Armin also would be acting the same way.

Armin lifted the crew neck sweater he was wearing, his chiseled abs glistening with his sweat. He had brought the ends of the sweater to his mouth, using his teeth to hold the shirt up so she could have much more space to back into his dick that was craving every inch of her. Plus, he could get a better view of what he saw as the beautiful woman in front of him was bent over. The lavish sight of watching her dripping wet cunt swallow the girth of his cock with ease.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum." [Y/N] moaned out. Her hips were bouncing back into Armin.

Armin leaned over, and his hands reached over to cup her breasts. They fit so perfectly in his hands as he gave them both a squeeze. He wishes they were out and exposed to him. He wouldn't have minded latching his lips on her bare breasts, letting his tongue glide across her perky nipples. The thought of it drove the boy insane.

"Fuck Armin!" [Y/N] screamed out, her hands balled up in a fist. Her nails were digging into the palm of her hand due to the pleasurable pressure she was feeling. "Please cum inside me, baby boy," she huffs. The sound of their skin slapping together was like music to her ears.

"But you said," Armin said through faint groans.

"Fuck it." were the only words that came out of her mouth as she finally stopped moving. Her knees were growing weak, trembling to reach a climax eventually.

"Just relax [Y/N]," Armin whispered in her ear; it sends a tingle down her spine as she obeyed him.

Feeling her relax under his fingertips gave Armin some pride. From the stories told about the woman he had bent over at the moment, they always said that she enjoyed being in control. But now she was in front of Armin, and she was a trembling mess wanting him to finish the job. His hands were grabbing at her braids, yanking her upward so that her back was on Armin's chest. She let out a sudden gasp at his change of demeanor.

"We'll cum together, okay?" Armin whispered in [Y/N]'s ear. His whispers tickled her ear.

But with eagerness, she nodded before feeling Armin thrust inside her. With the newest position they were in, [Y/N] had a full view of herself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. The brown lip liner on her lips was smudged, and the bun her braids were once in fell apart. She was currently a fucked out mess as the blonde-haired male behind her was fucking her senseless. Who knew such an innocent-looking face could hide such a great determination to pleasure a woman. Her hands gripped at the sink behind her. She was so close. The burning bit in the bottom of her stomach was about to burst.

Armin thrusts didn't stop, his middle and index finger climbing into his mouth to wet them before reaching in front of him to rub at [Y/N]'s sensitive bud of pleasure. Hearing her moaning his name was like a sweet tune to his ears. "Shit, please, Armin." She moaned out.

Armin's strokes were getting sloppy. He was close to cumming and wanted to be sure to pull out. "Just cum inside me." [Y/N] huffed. Armin could feel her thighs shaking under his touch.

"You sure?" Armin questioned, but he didn't get an answer from the girl. He only got a string of moans from her.

Feeling [Y/N] walls clasp around his dick caused Armin to let her go; watching her collapse forward in front of the sink was a wonderful sight to him. However, just because she was a trembling mess below him, that didn't stop the man. His sloppy strokes inside her walls caused her to let out whispers. Tears were sliding down her cheeks due to the amount of sexual pressure she was enjoying.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Armin complimented. He felt his body tense up just in time as he released inside of her. Decorating her worn-out walls white as his body hunched over hers in exhaustion. Breathless sighs as his brain were as fuzzy as it was when he was stuck in the university's library solving physic problems.

The two of them tried to regain their composure as Armin pulled out of her. His chest was rising up and down as he combed through his hair. As Armin was cleaning himself up, buttoning his pants up. His arm going up to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, he watched as [Y/N] would pick her panties up off the floor. She used a tissue to wipe up the cum that was leaking down her leg.

"You better be glad I'm on birth control." She says, her lips curling into a smirk.

"You were the one that said to cum inside of you," Armin said as he was washing his hands.

"It was the bliss of the moment." [Y/N] laughs as she watched him.

He only chuckled at her statement. When the blonde-haired boy glanced at himself in the mirror, he figured that he looked decent enough to go back to join the party even though his body was worn out due to the activities that just happened in the bathroom. He felt [Y/N] stuff something in his pocket, "Something for you to remember me by." [Y/N] said as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

[Y/N] had left the bathroom first, leaving Armin there with his thoughts to process what the hell just happened. He followed behind her, realizing that he at least wanted to get her number. His light-colored eyes scanned the room to search for [Y/N]. It was as if she disappeared in the night. His friends probably wouldn't even believe him if he told them what had just happened. When he rejoined his friend, they were still in the same corner that he left them in.

"Armin, where the hell did you go?" Eren questioned, his eyes drooped low as ever due to the constant rotation of the nicely rolled blunt that someone brought.

"I went to the bathroom," Armin answered; it wasn't particularly a lie.

"You were gone for a while. A very long ass bathroom break," Jean pointed out as he took a long gulp of alcohol from the red solo cup.

"What the hell is that sticking out your pocket?" Sasha questioned as she was positioned on her boyfriend Niccolo's lap.

"What are you talking about?" Armin glanced down at his pocket, seeing the red lace fabric sticking out of his pants pocket. His cheeks grew as red as the lace fabric in his pocket while his hands quickly shoved it in his pocket and out of view from the others.

"Armin got laid!" Connie shrieked loudly, gaining stares from some people.

Armin plopped down on the couch, picking up the bottle of alcohol off the coffee table and taking a large sip from it. Such an odd way to end the night as his friends were pestering who the girl he had slept with was.

It was [Y/N], [Y/N] [L/N].

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #aot smut #anime smut #aot x black reader #black reader smut #aot x reader #char: armin arlert #imagine: aot

[mitsuyasangel]

[mitsuyasangel]

Dial Tone

Dial Tone - Repost

Eren x AFAB Reader

MINORS DNI - ALL CHARACTERS 18+ - I DO NOT OWN AOT OR ANY CHARACTERS FROM AOT

Warnings: Mentions of Drinking, SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT, Cursing, Dirty talk, Sexting, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink-ish, Eren is chatty af

Word Count: 4.7k

Synopsis: Eren and reader are friends, but after reader leaves a party without notice, what starts out as a simple check-in text leads to much more

A/N: And a repost of a fic that was almost at 700 notes when I deleted it lmao

One New Message From: Jaeger

Jaeger: Hey

Your breath hitched as you saw the tiny text bubble appear in your messages, instantly locking your phone, the screen going black. What time was it anyway? You had left the party an hour ago but paid no attention to the hour on the clock. Hitting the tiny button on the side of your phone, 1:02AM stared back. You could easily pretend you were asleep and let the message sit in your inbox.

- ding - 

Another text arrived, interrupting your thoughts.

Jaeger: You left the party?

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Since when did he notice or care? Eren was your friend, or friend of your friend, so it’s not odd for him to text you. But a text at one in the morning after you had such a close call at the party left you with an uneasy feeling.

Jaeger: Just let me know you got home safe when you have a chance. Everyone is worried.

Oh. That makes more sense. He was just checking in. You did leave pretty unexpectedly, flustered by Jean and Connie’s comments, so you didn’t really announce your departure as you snuck out the back door and walked yourself home. Your mind returned to the conversation with Jean and Connie that triggered your calling it a night.

“Oh come on - not Colt? Who doesn’t love Colt??” Connie spoke with his hands as he leaned against the island counter.

You shook your head with a smile “Nope. Not telling. Not interested in never hearing the end of it from you guys.”

“It’s so obviously Jaeger,” Your head swung around to see Jean entering the kitchen, taking a swig from the cup in his hand. “I’m surprised you’re not in there right now, some girl from Marley is trying to climb onto his lap so you’ve got competition it seems.”

You could feel the heat rise to your face. You weren’t interested in giving away the secret of your longstanding crush on the tall green eyed boy you had met a summer ago. You took a drink from your cup before speaking, composing yourself internally so as not to seem as flustered as you felt being called out. You had switched to water a while ago and were on the edge of being fully sober but didn’t trust that you wouldn’t slip up and blow what you believed was a carefully crafted cover.

“Jaeger?” you giggled “What makes you think I’m interested in Jaeger?”

“You’re not?” The voice didn’t belong to Jean or Connie. You looked over your shoulder to find Eren leaning against the entryway to the kitchen with a soft smile on his lips.

Seeing him before you always made you feel like the wires in your brain had re-arranged, rendering you momentarily speechless. How someone who looked like him ended up going to the same university as you and then ended up in your friend group was beyond your comprehension. His eyes, for a fleeting half second, scanned up and down your figure.

“I - ” you started but were soon interrupted.

“Eren! There you are!” the aforementioned girl from Marley you presumed found her place clinging to his bicep.

You looked back to Jean who only confirmed your assumption with a knowing look. If you were close to sober before, you were definitely there now and not interested in seeing anything unfold a mere few steps away. You took the sudden distraction as your opportunity to slip out the kitchen door into the night.

Now here you were. Laid in your bed, shoes slipped off at your bedroom door but the black satin slip dress still adorning your body. You were innovative for using it as a nightgown as well as a party dress, not lazy.

SENT: I made it home safe. 

SENT: You can let everyone know I’m sorry for not checking in sooner.

You sighed as you hit send and rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling above you. You really should go to sleep. There was no point in dwelling over the inevitable. He was handsome as all hell, it would make sense that someone else would be interested. Not that you had made your interest known anyway.

Jaeger: Good. You should let me know you’re leaving next time, I would have walked you home.

SENT: That’s okay. I’m not too far from Jean’s place anyway. Thanks though

Jaeger: I’m not far either, but it’d still be nice to know you made it home safe.

SENT: Alright I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight Eren

You set your phone down on your nightstand and closed your eyes. Your thoughts were sure to begin racing if you didn’t succumb to sleep soon.

- ding -

You grabbed your phone expecting a simple goodnight text from Eren that would end the rare late night conversation occurring right now.

Jaeger: You looked really pretty tonight

A gasp escaped your mouth and you rubbed your eyes hurriedly, not caring about the smudging that would occur from your leftover makeup as you squinted to re-read the message. You looked really pretty tonight. A waltz of butterflies erupted in your stomach as you read and re-read his words. Reality hit you just as hard as the butterflies did when you remember a moment later that he had been drinking and the last thing you saw was another girl clinging to his arm. You weren’t even sure the text was meant for you.

SENT: Wrong number, Jaeger. Now you be careful getting home if you’re still drunk.

SENT: Goodnight

Jaeger: ?? I didn’t drink tonight. I know who I sent that to

SENT: Oh…

SENT: Thank you

You were half tempted to turn your phone off as you huffed audibly at your weak response. You would need to gain some confidence and soon if you ever planned to make your interest known.

Jaeger: And I’m already home. I mean it though, you looked beautiful. I tried to find you earlier, but.. yeah

How did you even get to this? Just a few hours ago you were sure Eren would be going home with whoever was on his arm and you were content to hold your crush on him as a tightly kept secret.

SENT: You looked really nice too. You always do though

You held your breath as you awaited his reply. Barely even registering the words typed out before they were sent out into the world. They weren’t a lie, but you didn’t realize you were so ready to speak them.

Jaeger: Oh? :)

SENT: Yeah. If I’m being honest, I didn’t think you saw me like that at all though.

Jaeger: Well if I’m being honest, I think you’re pretty fuckin pretty

You squealed in excitement alone in your room. “Romance isn’t dead after all,” you laughed to yourself. You could picture the words coming off his tongue with that signature boyish charm. A second message followed shortly after before you could reply.

Jaeger: but you also looked hot as fuck in that little dress

Your eyes widened and you quickly sat up in bed. It’s not that you hadn’t imagined a scenario like this one (or far dirtier) when you had time to yourself, ahem. But to actually receive this attention from Eren - you didn’t want to pass the moment up.

“Fuck it,” you thought. This might be a one time thing but hell if you weren’t going to jump on the opportunity. You held your phone above your body as you laid lazily in your bed, your dress had ridden up exposing more of your thighs and your cleavage was on display as you hit the button on your phone that took a photo.

SENT: 1 Photo

SENT: I was too lazy to take it off before bed :)

Jaeger: Damn, you look good.

SENT: :) Sooo

Jaeger: So..?

If you were running on adrenaline prior, you had no clue what came over you when you sent your next message.

SENT: I think I found the energy to take it off now, wanna see?

Jaeger: Take it off.

You felt both giddy and as if your temperature had risen a thousand degrees in a matter of minutes. There was no mistaking the slick feeling growing between your legs as the conversation escalated with Eren.

Once again holding the phone above your body with one hand, you hit the record button and with your free hand pulled the straps down slowly on each side. Right before the dress would drop below your cleavage, you pressed the stop button and sent the video.

Jaeger: Tease.

You smiled to yourself and went to steady the phone camera as you prepared to pull off your dress fully for the man only to be interrupted by a second notification from Eren.

One New Photo Message from: Jaeger

You clicked open the photo to see a shot facing down his body as he laid in his bed. His abs were on full display, dressed in only a pair of gray sweatpants…and his hand was resting on the very obvious bulge below his waistline. Your core burned at the image.

Jaeger: See what you do to me?

You gulped audibly. He was big, even with the shape slightly indiscernible through his sweatpants.

SENT: Yeah..

Jaeger: Oh shy now sweetheart? Your pussy’s wet for me, isn’t it?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing and erasing word after word before you decided you couldn’t string together something coherent enough to constitute a reply.

Newfound determination lingered in the base of your stomach as you got up from your place in bed and quickly made your way over to your floor length mirror. The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminating your body in a sultry light, defining your curves as the dress hung loosely to your body.

You rested on your calves with your legs spread. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the record button on your phone and let the straps of your dress fall off your shoulder completely, slowly revealing your breasts. You reached your free hand up and gently rolled your nipple between your fingers causing it to perk up and quick gasp to leave your mouth. You trailed your hand down the front of your dress, now sitting loosely at your waist. Your hand tucked underneath the hem without revealing your lace panties hiding beneath the silky fabric. You lightly grazed your clit over the fabric of your underwear and traced your fingers south, confirming the damp spot that was growing at your core and causing your hips to buck slightly.

“Mmm yeah so wet for you Ren,” you moaned with your hand hidden beneath your dress and stopped the recording. If he wanted to call you a tease you would give him a tease. You hit send and rushed back to your bed, pulling the straps of your dress back up as you ran. You threw your phone at the end of the bed and covered your face with your hands. There was no turning back now.

When you didn’t hear the familiar chime of a new message a minute after sending the video, concern started to bubble up in your stomach, replacing the lust that had settled in so easily minutes prior.

Then, you felt your phone vibrate at the end of your bed.

You slowly removed your hands from your face and lifted your head up to peer down at your phone.

Incoming call from: Jaeger

Oh fuck. It had already rung twice so you scrambled to pick it up from the end of your bed, it rang one more time before you swiped to answer the call and spoke.

“Eren?”

“Is it 2312 or 2123?”

“My address? 2312.. Eren are-“

“I’ll be there in 5 babe,” and he hung up.

Your phone once again went flying to the end of your bed and you scrambled to get up. Stomach filling with nerves, excitement and lust for the man you had pined over for two summers. You shoved everything on the floor into your closet and in your mirror quickly wiped at the smudges from your makeup. The soft lighting would hide most everything anyway, but you still hoped to appear semi-presentable if this was really happening.

As if on cue, almost 5 minutes after the call had ended you heard a soft knock at your front door. You made your way through your apartment and opened your door, revealing the tall, now fully clothed, man at your step. He had a gentle smile on his lips but his eyes shone something determined, the look sending a slight shudder through your body.

“Eren,” you breathed.

“Can I come in?”

You pressed your back to the door and pushed it open fully with a step back allowing him to follow you inside. He stepped in with a slight hum and your back was to him as you closed and locked the door.

You slowly turned around, trying to find the words to fill the silence but were met instead with Eren’s hands finding the sides of your face as he walked you back against the now shut door.

He towered over you. Even in the dark of your apartment, the only light coming from your now abandoned bedroom, you could see the teal shine of his eyes as they bore down into your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you,” His words pulled a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Don’t act surprised. Didn’t you tell me how wet you were for me not ten minutes ago?” One hand moved so his finger brushed your bottom lip “What about when you showed me those pretty tits of yours, huh? God, baby, I wanna get my mouth on em,” he groaned and his finger moved to slide past your lips, brushing along your tongue to the back of your throat.

You hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten until you felt his thigh raise slightly against your core, your legs parting on instinct as you settled onto it.

He pulled his finger from your mouth, the other hand grabbing a hold on your chin forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

“Come on, baby. Say the word and I promise I’ll fuck you so good.”

“Please Ren,” It was just a whisper, but you know he heard it because of the smirk that graced his features. He leaned in steadily, his grip on your chin still present, and planted a deep, slow kiss on your lips. You sighed contentedly at the kiss. If that’s all you got from him tonight, you could probably die happy.

You know Eren had other plans though because as he pulled away from the kiss his hands trailed down your sides and the word “Jump,” was said against your lips.

You listened immediately and Eren caught you in his arms, momentarily pushing you back against your front door for another deep kiss before pulling away and carrying you into your bedroom.

He dropped you on your bed, your back hitting the soft sheets and you pulled your knees up as your gaze met Eren’s. He was standing at the edge of your bed, soft light of your bedside lamp hitting him like golden hour as he reached behind his head with one hand and pulled his shirt off in a swift motion. You felt your breath get caught in your throat and your thighs squeeze together as your core burned deeply at the sight.

His toned upper body now on display, you wanted your hands and mouth to touch every inch of him. You were sure to make that happen.

“Gonna finally take that dress off for me babe?” he asked as he gathered his long hair together behind his head. His biceps on full display as he worked to wrap the hair tie around the messy low bun.

You didn’t waste any time sliding off your dress, this time pulling from the hem and with crossed arms reaching it over your head, tossing it haphazardly on the floor below.

“God you’re beautiful,” Eren remarked and you felt your face grow hot. You laid before him, clad in only your panties with your leg bent at the knee and your arms reaching to cover your breasts once more.

“Tsk. Not so fast,” Eren leaned down and crawled on the bed toward you, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest.

He settled between your legs, his hard stomach resting against your core and his face in line with your tits. Two large hands reached to hold them with a gentle but firm touch. He looked up at you as his tongue hung out of his mouth and he slowly leaned down to offer small, wet, licks to one of your nipples. The small licks turned into a wet suck around the entirety of your nipple and then a gentle grazing of his teeth that had your hair standing on end and sweet moans slipping past your lips.

Cupping them in his hands, he alternated between each breast and slowly began rocking himself between your hips and into the mattress below.

“You have perfect fuckin tits you know that babe?” his tongue lolled out and a wet circle was formed around your nipple.

“Eren, feels so good,” your eyes shut as you took in the pleasure he gave you from his mouth alone. He slowly released his mouth from your breast and began to kiss down your stomach, leaving a trail of purple marks as he moved.

When he reached your lace panties, he placed a gentle kiss at your clothed center and then caught the elastic in his teeth, releasing it with a snap to your pelvic area.

His hands reached up and began slowly dragging your panties down your legs. As he reached your mid thighs he re-gained his urgency at the sight of your exposed pussy, slick with your desire for him.

“Such a pretty pussy baby,” he let out a low whistle. You should have felt embarrassed at his praise but the low cadence he spoke with left you growing slicker by the moment.

Your panties were quickly discarded with your dress on the floor and Eren reached up his hand to run one finger through your slick folds, before running it back down to tease a circle around your hole.

Your hips jolted at the sensation and regular moans were now leaving your lips as he created a routine out of those motions. His forearm found a home on your lower stomach as he tried to keep your hips from bucking upwards. You felt his hand remove itself from your center and when you peeked down through hazy eyes you were met with Eren gathering his slick coated fingers in his mouth.

“Mmm. You taste real sweet,” he returned his finger to your core to gather more of your wetness on the tips of fingers. “Don’t just take my word for it” His slick coated finger reached forward and pushed past your lips. His eyes watched intently and jaw hung slack as you licked up the sweet and saccharine taste of you from the tips of his fingers.

“What a good girl,” he praised sweetly as he removed his fingers from your lips.

“I think you should be rewarded for behaving so well,” you whimpered at his words but soon found your head shooting forward instinctively as you felt his slender finger breach your tight hole and begin slowly pumping in and out.

“Fuck Eren, like that please!” you cried out.

He didn’t respond, only added a second finger and quickened his pace. Your stomach was already tightening as Eren continued pumping his fingers deep within your pussy. You knew if he continued at this rate you would reach your high in no time.

As if he couldn’t wait to get you there, you felt his tongue on your body once more as he leaned in to suck harshly at your clit, the swollen nub receiving devoted attention from his wet mouth while his fingers worked tirelessly at your core.

“Eren please don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum!”

He curled his fingers slightly, finding the spot within you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Oh fuck. Right there Ren!”

He groaned in response and the buzz against your clit combined with the continued assault at your center was enough to push you over the edge as you came undone for Eren. Your legs shook and you felt your core grow incredibly slick, but Eren just moved his tongue south to drink up your release.

“Eren,” you reached for his face. He pulled back slightly to meet your attention.

“I want you to fill me up, please,” you gave him your most pleading eyes.

He let out a breath.

“Yeah? Need my cock in this tight little cunt?” his hand lightly tapped your still sensitive clit. He leaned back fully, standing over you again at the edge of the bed, his palm landing on the print in the front of his sweatpants and lightly stroking. “I’ll give it to you baby. Fill you up so good”. And with that he shuffled to remove his sweatpants and black boxer briefs.

Once you saw his cock fully exposed in front of you, your mind and mouth betrayed you as you spoke. “You’re so big Ren,” and you reached out to him, hoping he would take the hint and move closer to finally fuck you.

“Promised I’d fill you up good,” and he hovered over your bare body with his own. He slapped his cock on your lower abdomen before dragging down and tapping your clit with the tip. He slowly moved his cock down through your slick folds but didn’t enter you.

“Look at me,” and your eyes moved from the way his cock inched closer to your core and met the green eyes that left you awestruck. He leaned in to kiss you for whatever count you had lost track of that night and slid his cock inside you without ever breaking the kiss.

“Oh God Ren I feel so full,” you moaned out as he reached the hilt, his cock pressing at your cervix. He shuddered as he gave you a few solid moments to ease into the stretch his cock demanded from you. You placed a palm on his cheek and nodded your head at him, noses brushing gently, wordlessly giving him permission to move.

He slowly dragged his cock out of you and then roughly slammed it back in. Your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head at the forceful thrust. He could cum from the first feeling of your pussy clenching around him combined with the sight of you in pure bliss but he bit the inside of cheek to distract himself and quickly found a rhythm of deep, fast thrusts.

“Fuck.. tight fuckin cunt. Baby your cunt is heaven,” he babbled as he thrust in and out of you repeatedly.

A string of smooth moans escaped your lips as you were fucked into pure bliss by Eren. You could hear how slick you were each time his cock slammed into you combined with the filth pouring from Eren’s lips that only increased your growing desire.

You rocked your hips against him, matching his pace and you could see the way his eyes would squeeze shut at particularly hard thrusts, reaching up blindly to tease your nipple between his fingers as he fucked you.

You would reach your high fast at this rate and by the groans littered in between words of praise from Eren you were sure he would follow shortly after.

His pace slowed which brought you back from whatever heaven you were in and to your dimly lit bedroom. You saw him lean back on his calves, cock still inside of you. Then, as if you weighed nothing, he lifted you from your hips so your lower half was raised in the air for him and immediately thrust his cock back into your pussy.

“Ren… you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Yeah? Just like that, huh?” and he didn’t give up the pace he set. You could feel your core igniting with release moments away.

He released one of his hands from your hips and you saw how strong he truly was as he held you with one muscular forearm tucked beneath your back and the other hand reaching around to rub circles onto your clit.

Eren could feel your clenching around him grow tighter. “Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum for me? I knew you were a good girl,” his babbling continued.

“Yes Ren, please let me cum!”

He swallowed thickly at your words “Cum on my cock baby, m’all yours,” followed by a thrust that hit the spot deep inside you so perfectly you tipped over the edge instantly.

You tried to get the words out but instead loud moans took their place as you reached your peak around Eren, clenching him tightly causing the man to groan in pleasure. Your orgasm continued and the pulsing clench of your cunt around him combined with the look of pure bliss on your face caused him to follow shortly behind, filling you with his release.

You caught your breath as you stared in awe at Eren with his head thrown back, tight grip still on your hips. Your heart fluttered when you saw him swallow a pant, causing his adam’s apple to bob in his throat. His eyes stayed shut for a moment as he lowered you gently back to the bed and then collapsed on top of you, cock still buried deep with your combined release leaking out on the sheets below.

After a few moments of staggered breaths from the both of you, Eren spoke.

“I meant it,” he rasped with his head on your chest.

Your hands found his soft brown hair and you gently played with it as he caught his breath on top of you, keeping just enough weight off to not crush you.

“Meant what?” you asked slightly confused.

He turned his head up to face you while remaining on your chest and you peered down to meet his eye contact.

“All of it. How beautiful you look, how … long I thought about doing this and.. how…” he turned his head back to lay on your chest facing away from you now “I’m all yours.”

You felt like your chest could explode. There was no way he didn’t hear the sudden uptake in your heartbeat with his head resting against it like this. Your musing was confirmed when he raised his head and pressed his palm to your chest humming contentedly as he did so.

“Your heartbeat is going so fast,” he whispered.

You turned your head in embarrassment. “It’s cause..I wanna be yours too Ren,” When you faced him again he had a faint pink dusting his cheeks, a mix of hues from the sex you just had and the vocalization of your shared feelings.

He leaned up to give you a gentle peck on your lips. Before slowly pulling out of you and stumbling in the lowlight to find your bathroom. He returned shortly after with his black boxer briefs on, abs on full display and you felt yourself grow embarrassed all over again. He cleaned you up quickly but thoroughly and you thanked yourself mentally for the birth control pills you took as he cleaned his cum from inside you.

While he left to put away the washcloth and you heard the faint sound of the kitchen tap running you giggled to yourself at how easily he made himself at home. You rolled over to find your discarded dress and opened a drawer to gather new sheets for the bed before he returned. When he made his way back to the room with a water glass for you in hand you thanked him and took a few long drinks while he slid into bed next to you.

You set the glass down on your bedside table and he threw his strong arm around your waist, pulling you tightly to his bare chest. He took a deep breath in with his face buried in your hair.

“We could start,” he released the breath “with you going to breakfast with me tomorrow.”

A sleepy grin painted across your lips.

“Breakfast tomorrow,” you confirmed and he squeezed you tighter. Both of your breathing patterns slowed until you drifted off into bliss, safe in the arms of your newfound lover.

[mitsuyasangel]

Shallow

Pool Boy! Eren Jaeger x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Not SFW, Public-ish Sex, Fingering, Penetration, Minor Cum Play,

Summary: You were spoiled beyond belief, getting anything and everything you wanted at the snap of your fingers. So when the pool boy your family hired for the summer showed no interest in joining the extensive list of things readily at your disposal, well that just wouldn’t do.

A/N: Idk I just wanted to write this fun little fantasy lol

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[mitsuyasangel]

HOW TO… ┊ STEPBRO!GETŌ SUGURU

˚ ୧ WORD COUNT : 1.3k

˚ ୧ SUMMARY : your lovely stepbrother teaches you how to kiss, hours before your valentine’s date.

˚ ୧ INCLUDES : stepcest, no curses au, inexperienced fem!reader, good girl, praising, biting, slight corruption kink, dry humping, spit, tongue sucking, cheating (reader has a partner), all characters are 20’s+.

˚ ୧ A/N : definitely not what I had planned for Valentine’s but I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

“C'mon, don’t get shy with me now.”

“Do we have to be so close?”

Geto snorts and his warm fingers climb a few inches up your thighs, a few more inches between the middle of your skirt.

“How else are you gonna kiss me?” he mumbles licking his lip, adding a ‘huh?’ at the end.

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[mitsuyasangel]

That was really really good oh my god

Touch Me, Baby | One Shot

Eren Jaeger x Shy!Reader, Fem!Reader

Content: Friends to Lovers :), fluff, smut

Warnings: Dry humping, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, slight breeding kink, 18+, MINORS DNI

Summary: Simple crushes are harmless, at least that’s what Eren thought. He was flattered by the readers unrequited crush on him. But suddenly, during a night out with friends, Eren realizes that maybe the roles had been reversed the entire time.

A/N: hsdjkfsd I’m so excited that Valentine’s Day is finally here!!! I worked on this for like two weeks so I hope you guys enjoyyyyy! (I also hope that this makes up for not updating LTN on time 😩😩) HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH :)) oh omg also I do NOT own the song used in this fic, it is used solely as a plot device! (It’s been a while since i did that :“) hehe)

Song Used: Honey, Honey - ABBA (as performed by Amanda Seyfried)

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