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adeathlessgod · 8 months

Text

Talking’s Overrated

featuring : Eren Yeager x fem!reader

content : MDNI, smut, Eren is whipped, he’s also a little shit, mean dom!eren if you squint, car sex, fingering, mutual masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, anal play, creampie, hair pulling, full nelson, friends with benefits to lovers sorta, reader is sort of a brat idk, Eren loves hair pulling, ddlg vibes if you use a magnifying glass, a little dumbification, reader has her ears pierced, Eren spits in reader’s mouth, slight degradation, DEFTONES MENTION!!!

word count : 5.7k

synopsis : After Eren ends your little fling, he asks to talk it out with you one late night. You find out he believes talking is overrated.

notes : Hi guys!!! I’m Angel, and this is my first ever fic and it took me weeks to work on, so notes, reblogs and constructive criticism are all welcomed! Hope you enjoy my loves<3

- Come outside

Your stomach flips as you read the notification on your screen, hesitantly swiping it away. It’s late on a Thursday night, it’s quiet. Your room is shrouded in darkness, only illuminated by the blaring brightness of your phone screen. You continue to scroll through Instagram, giggling at Hitch’s close friends, when another message comes through.

- Let’s talk

Talking. You chew your cheek. When was the last time you two had spoken?

“Friend, huh? Is that what I am to you?” His hands caged your head against the bathroom wall. He leaned closer, dropping his head to meet your gaze, his breath minty and warm. “Is fucking each other what friends do?”

“It was a-“

“A mistake? Is that what you think of us?” Eren was dangerously close to you now, his lips ghosting across yours.

“I never said it was a mistake,” You chewed your lip nervously as you drew in a shaky breath, “Just a one time thing.”

“There’s no fucking difference, you either want this or you don’t. You know how I feel about this,” his breath fanned over your face, your eyes flutter closed, “About you,” he pauses.

“Don’t deny me, please, let me know I’m not alone in this,” he was almost pleading now, his voice soft and strangled.

You let your head fall back, gently knocking against the wall. “Eren, I-“, you looked at him, how the sharp contours of his jaw had been softened into slopes by the low, luminescent lighting. Your eyes trailed over him slowly, like he was a wonder of the world.

Striking, green eyes, framed by long, dark lashes. A pointed Roman nose, above his plump, rosy lips and the set of shiny white teeth behind them. His smooth, olive skin, akin to sculpted sandstone. He was everything you could have asked for, everything you needed, and that was entirely too much to ask of him.

You shook your head at him, dropping his gaze ashamedly. The air in the room staled.

Eren scoffed, and his hands fell from their place on the wall. “Fine, you want to fuck Jean, go for it,” he runs a hand down his face frustratedly, “thanks for letting me know where I stand, and that this meant absolutely nothing to you.”

“Eren, that’s not-“

“Shut the fuck up, okay? You don’t get to have a say in this, you don’t get to fuck with my feelings and then tell me it’s okay. You don’t get to-“, he blows out a short breath, recollecting his thoughts. He starts again, slower, calmer, quieter, “You don’t get to break my heart and tell me that’s not what you meant, okay?”

He waits for a response, and you wait for him to shout again. You have a moment of silence, despite the muffled Deftones bleeding through the walls. Eren turns to leave, but his hand hesitates over the doorknob. Opening his mouth to speak, he casts you one more angry - no, pained - glance, and swallows.

“Do you regret this?”

You don’t respond.

The door slams behind Eren. You don’t follow him.

The door slams behind you as you step into the midnight chill, dressed in only a hoodie and shorts. The night air bites at your legs and you flex your hands at your sides routinely. The world outside is serene and caliginous - illuminated only by the spindly street lamps stationed on the sidewalk like nutcracker soldiers. Your heart sputters at the sight of Eren’s car, parked crookedly in your driveway - you can’t even see through his tinted windows. The low hum of his engine rattles his car gently, like a small, mobile refrigerator.

When you get to the passenger side, you swing the door open, slide into the plush leather seat, and close the door, all without sparing Eren a second glance. He is sitting in the driver’s seat, legs spread wide apart, in a black hoodie and grey sweats. He shifts his hips upwards as he readjusts his sitting position, his eyes never leaving your shivering figure.

He rakes over your oversized hoodie, your bare legs, your pretty, pretty face. He lingers on your face for a second too long, then he grins when he sees you press your thighs together.

“You cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” Eren hums in response as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel. His rings glint in the muted glare of the moonlight.

“Want me to turn on the heating?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You watch as he cranks the dial up to max, and the warm air almost instantaneously rushes out of the AC vents. You slump back into your seat, revelling in the warmth. A thin film of condensation falls onto the windows, mottling the midnight scenery outside - your very own Starry Night.

“So,” Eren begins cooly, “how have you been?”

His voice was oddly impartial and you knew better than to trust Eren’s nonchalance. You look at him side-long, attempting to uncover any unkind inflections. You’re met with a lazy smile and a glint in his eyes that stokes the warmth between your legs, warmer than any heater can make you.

“I’ve been good.” A small, charged beat passes. “You?”

“I’ve been good too,” he hums. He licks his lips cockily when he asks, “Have you missed me?”

You’re a delicate instrument, and Eren wants to know if he can still remember how to play you, how to tune you to his liking.

You surrender to his disarming smile.

You breathe in. “Yeah, I did.”

Eren huffs out a quiet laugh and lets his head fall against the window. “I’ve missed you too.”

You breathe out. “Really?”

He grins. “Of course, I have.” He slowly leans across the console, “What,” he murmurs softly, “You don’t believe me?”

You squirm in your seat, flustered by his unwavering gaze. His eyes are low, and swimming with mirth. He cradles your face in his hand and your eyes flutter shut when he drags his nose along your jaw.

Your breaths are shallower now. You’re supposed to be talking, talking about you, talking about your relationship, talking about anything but how much you yearned for each other the past weeks.

You tilt your head sideways, facing him, and tentatively press your forehead to his. He’s rendered you breathless within minutes. You are drowning in him - his sight, his scent, his touch - you can’t talk, let alone breathe, not when he’s taking up all the space in the car.

All notions of reconciliation are abandoned when he presses a fleeting kiss to the shell of your ear, and then whispers, “Do I have to prove it?”

You draw in a shuddering breath.

“Please.”

His lips press into yours, hot and wet, as you lace your hands into his hair. He tastes of peppermint and marijuana. His hand trails from your cheek to your throat, squeezing gently, coaxing a small moan from you. Skimming his thumb over your pulse, his tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it gently. Your hands tug at the hair interlocked between your fingers, and Eren releases a loud groan into your mouth.

“C’mere,” he mumbles against you. His hands slip under your thighs, and he gently manoeuvres you over the center console and into his lap. You shudder when you feel him beneath you, large and thick and impossibly hard. You roll your hips against the tent in his pants experimentally, and it pulls a moan from both of you.

He pulls away - his lips slick and swollen, still connected to yours by limp strings of saliva - to rasp, “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

There is nothing other than reverence in his eyes as he surveys you. Your chest is already heaving, you’re flushed from your neck to your ears, and your lips are a dark, kiss-bitten red. An angel. My angel, Eren thinks. You hum in response and dip your head to capture his lips again. His cock is already dribbling precum, staining his sweats a dark grey. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, before sinking your teeth into it. His dick twitches.

Eren pulls away, again, to mutter huskily, “You’re so mean, baby, what am I gonna do with you?” before sliding his lips along your jaw. His lips leave a blazing trail behind them, and his hands are just as hot.

His fingers slip under the hem of your hoodie, pressing small circles into your skin that make you writhe in his lap. His lips stretch into a smirk as he descends down the column of your throat, pausing every now and again to suck bruises into your skin. His hands tug at your hoodie, with a muttered, “Off.”

You scramble to take off your oversized sweater in the confines of Eren’s car, and in your flurry of movements, you elbow the horn behind you. You jolt at the sudden squawk, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you grounded. He chuckles lightheartedly.

“Easy, we don’t want your neighbours knowing we’re out here, right?” he teases you. Pouting, you discard your hoodie into the passenger seat and watch Eren’s jaw go slack at the sight of your bare chest.

“No bra?” Eren immediately takes your left nipple into his hot, wet mouth and your back arches, “You’re so good to me, baby.”

You keen as he rolls the other nipple in his fingers, content with how they pebbled due to the chill of the night. He releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop and places sloppy, open-mouthed kisses in the valley between your breasts. His large, calloused hands fondle your breasts languidly, his cock twitching in his briefs. Moaning softly, you roll your hips against him, desperate for friction, and whimper out a needy, “Eren, please.”

He lazily grins up at you. He is so insufferable - “What do you need, baby?”

You attempt to roll your hips again, but Eren’s hands keep you stationary, “I need you.”

“Yeah? You want me to take these off for you?” He tugs at your skimpy shorts, and he chuckles when you nod enthusiastically, “Hips up, baby.” He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your thong, and he sweeps off your underwear and shorts, so you’re sitting bare in his lap. He wolf-whistles at the sight of you, pressing a few kisses to your collarbone.

Your tits, full, warm and round, your waist, melded to Eren’s touch, your thighs, plush and soft, either side of Eren’s lap, your pussy, glistening in the light, dripping onto his sweats - you’re so undeniably sexy, even more so in the moonlight painting you silver.

He runs his hands up and down your waist, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. His lips are still swollen from your kisses, and his eyes are glazed with adoration. If you squint, you can see the hearts dancing in his eyes. Your heart flutters. You’re Eren’s, his to hold, his to fuck, his to love. He doesn’t deserve you - he knows that much - but he is willing to ruin your friendship if it meant being able to see you like this again. His eyes widen when he sees you palm your breasts, spilling out of the gaps between your fingers. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and warmth courses between your legs.

“Stop it.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie by your voice. He clears his throat briefly. “Stop what?”

You wiggle on his lap, juggling your tits, smiling coyly, “Staring.”

He grins at you, brazen, “Never.”

His breath fans against your chest, hot, and his tongue slides across your sternum, hotter. He pulls you in for another kiss, a slower, softer one this time, and lets his hands roam around you freely. One hand rests on the small of your back, the other sliding down the plane of your stomach to where you need him most.

Your hips buck to meet him halfway. “Please, Eren-“

His fingers finally come into contact with your core, and you let out a strained whimper at his fleeting touch. He ghosts over your clit, chuckling at your displeasure. Just as you are about to whine again, he starts applying pressure to your swollen nub - just enough to make your head spin - as he clicks his tongue.

“Patience, baby. No more whining, you know I’ll give it to you good.“ He dips a finger between your folds, running it along your slit, before plunging it into you.

You gasp quietly as he begins thrusting it in and out of you. His fingers are long and thick, adorned with thick silver rings, nestled against that gummy spot that makes your knees weak. The stretch is delicious, something your fingers could never achieve. You can hear the squelch squelch squelch echo around the car before he even adds another finger. You’re mildly aware that you’re dripping down his wrist, but your mind is too foggy with pleasure to feel an inkling of shame. You’ve never been this wet for anyone before, and your heart hammers wildly in your chest.

“You hear that baby?” Eren teases you, “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” You whimper and bury your head into the crook of his neck. He slides in another finger, stretching you open, open, open. His rings graze your clit and you hum eagerly. You resort to bouncing on his hand, your gut beginning to tighten. Eren’s fingers still as he watches you. His voice is lowered to a husky drawl - “Go on, I want to see your cum on my fingers. Use me, baby.”

You begin to rock your hips faster, encouraged by his coos, the flames in your gut beginning to spread. Your gyrations become erratic and uneven. You pant into his ear wantonly, your breasts bouncing with your every move.

Gritting his teeth, Eren throws his head back. Moan by moan, you’re sending him closer to the edge. The hold you have on him is debilitating, and he’ll finish soon - untouched - if you don’t stop whining into his ear like a bitch in heat.

“Look at me,” Eren commands suddenly, tugging your hair. “I want to see you cum for me.”

Placing your hands on his shoulders, holding his gaze, you grind your clit against the heel of his palm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your legs lock around his waist at this newfound degree of pleasure. Moans are tumbling out of you unrestrained now, your voice high, whiny and loud. You are on the brink of orgasm, painstakingly close, and as Eren tugs your hair again, you lose it.

Your vision blurs and your legs shake as the world stutters on its axis. You spasm and clench around Eren’s hand, dripping onto the seat below you. Pleasure washes over you in waves, each one less intense than the last. You fall into Eren’s chest, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

Eren looks at the mess you’ve made, chews his lip - letting out a low fuuuuck - before asking if, “You’re okay?”

You hum in response, barely registering Eren’s question. He flips you swiftly, and your back is now flush with his chest. His hoodie is warm and scratchy against your skin. Eren tugs your hair again, lighter this time, and you look at up him, eyes wide and glazed over.

Eren sucks in a breath as he stares at you, basking in your post-orgasm glow. Your skin shimmers in the dim light filtered through his windscreen, casting your face half in shadow. Your eyes are low and your chest heaves with your sharp and fast inhales. He brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping his thumb under your eye, the other cupping your sex.

“I could cum just looking at you,” he murmurs.

You lean into his embrace, whispering, “I can cum just thinking about you.”

A hoarse groan spills from his throat, and a hard slap is landed to your clit. Your whole body lurches as you mewl loudly.

“Is that right?” he chuckled breathlessly, “Do you think about me when you touch this dirty little pussy of yours at night?” You nod avidly, and he rewards you with a few harsh circles to your clit.

“Show me,” he said, leaning forward to watch his fingers play with your pussy, “Show me how hard you cum when you think about me.” He hoists you up so he can shove his sweats halfway down his thighs - no underwear? God, he’s such a slut - and your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, bobbing between your legs.

It was long, and girthy, the head flushed to an angry red. Precum dribbled steadily from the tip, trickling down his shaft in translucent streams. A bulging vein runs down the underside of his cock, straight to where his balls sit, heavy and warm. Gripping his cock at the base, he smacks the bulbous head again your clit twice. Your legs spasm either side of him and he smirks before spitting, a fat glob of saliva landing onto your puffy clit.

He taps your clit again, gentler, encouraging, as he urges you, “Touch yourself, baby. I won’t ask again.” The shift in his tone is evident as his eyes darken, forest green now a deep viridian. You bite your bottoms lip as you slide a hand down your body, the other idly kneading your left breast.

Your fingers draw lazy circles around your entrance before dipping a finger between your folds. You sigh breathily, allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and Eren begins pumping himself slowly. You slip a finger into yourself, before bringing it back up to your lips. Eren watches keenly as you suck your essence off your fingers, then dip them back between your legs. You purr as you thrust two fingers into yourself, massaging that gummy spot that makes you dizzy. You begin to go faster, synchronous to the pumps of Eren’s hands.

His grunts are low and heavy in your ears, goading you to, “Go faster, I want to see you cum all over your fingers like the slut you are.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy, your fingers now hammering into your little hole, coaxing little spurts of arousal out of you with every pump. Eren uses your cum as a lubricant, slicking his shaft as he fists his cock aggressively. His dick nearly glitters in the moonlight, lathered in a milky sheen of your arousal. He snakes his vacant hand up your body, briefly squeezing your throat, your pulse hammering beneath his fingertips.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and he takes the opportunity to shove his fingers into your mouth. He watches saliva pool in your mouth, before spitting in it. You hum delightedly, your face so vacant with pleasure it makes Eren curse. As Eren pulls his fingers out of your mouth, spit dribbles down your chin and into the concaves of your collarbone.

“Such a messy girl, aren’t you?” he coos. You blink slowly, and then nod blankly. “Bet you don’t even know what I said, huh? So cockdrunk already,” he tuts at you lovingly as he brings his free hand to your second entrance.

When he circles your puckered hole, you gasp quietly. He shushes you tenderly, and he feels you give way beneath his finger tips.

“Good girl, gonna let me have all of you, right?” you agree mindlessly, dazed in the pursuit of your orgasm. He chuckles at you, how dumb you are for him, before slipping a finger into you, knuckle deep. Your body contorts and you let out a sharp cry. Eren grips the base of his cock to prevent the orgasm threatening to crest at the sound of your cries.

Even with one finger down there, you feel so full, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You slam your free hand on the steamy window, plastering a hand-shaped spyhole onto it. Your fingers speed up and you begin to pant when you sense your core begin to twist.

“Eren- I’m so close, fuck,” Eren slides a second finger into your ass and you let out a loud, debauched, filthy moan. You lick your lips longingly, watching beads of precum drip over Eren’s hands as he smears it over his shaft.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eren grunts against your neck, “Gonna make me cum.”

Knowing Eren was here, with you, being driven to the edge by your wanton cries and unabashed pleasure, sends you toppling headfirst into your second orgasm of the night.

Your back arches wildly and you wail out Eren’s name as you shake and convulse. You twitch violently around Eren’s fingers, simultaneously gushing onto yours. Your wrist is dripping with your arousal, as is Eren’s entire cock. As you thrash on his lap, he slowly retracts his fingers from your ass.

He slides his lips along your jaw, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat beaded along your face, before tilting your head with a large hand and kissing you. You suck on his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it softly, just how he likes it.

With a throaty moan, Eren follows you and hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out from his cock. They drape over your thighs, the steering wheel and your stomach like silvery garlands of pearls. He lets out a small grunt as the last spurts fall limply onto his hand.

You whine breathily as he rubs his cock through your folds. He gently rolls his hips upwards, and his balls hit your round ass with a small plap. He pulls away from your heated kiss, and you chase his lips desperately - you’re pathetic.

The head of his massive cock aligns with your belly button and Eren, gripping his shaft by the base, taps his tip against your navel, admiring the thin strings of precum that linger.

His voice drips with sadistic enthusiasm when he drawls, “I’m gonna be in your stomach, baby. Can you take it?”

“Eren, please, I need you.” You roll your hips against the hard length of his member.

He chuckles at your wanton desperation. “You want it, baby?” You nod fervently. “How bad?”

“So, so, so bad, please fuck me, Eren.” Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and your eyes lock onto his with blind adoration. He presses a quick kiss to your hairline, and then your forehead.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He presses his cock against your entrance, slowly, slowly, slowly pushing past that tight ring of muscle. You sigh dreamily as Eren nibbles on your earlobe, occasionally tugging at your piercings.

He pauses briefly when he bottoms out. You squirm in his arms before he scolds you, slapping your inner thigh harshly. The eerie silence of the world around you fades into your ears ringing when he slowly - agonisingly - begins thrusting. His cock drags along your walls perfectly with every precise roll of his hips. His groans echo around the car. The joint sounds of your ecstasy nearly drown out the lewd squelches between your legs.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Eren hammers your g-spot. You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your release begin to crest. Eren’s breath is hot against your neck and his muttered praises cloud your brain.

One of your hands travels up to entangle itself in Eren’s hair. He turns and plants a wet kiss on your palm. His thrusts become more rapid and shallow as you clench around him. You feel the car rock in time with his thrusts and you sigh happily.

You want your neighbours to know you’re getting fucked senseless. You want the world to know how good you’re getting it right now. Though now, your world has you spread on his lap like a fuckdoll and is pounding you like an animal.

You hiccup as Eren sinks his teeth into your palm. “You okay, pretty girl? Been quiet for a while.” When you nod, he presses his wet lips to your cheek, plastering his smile on you. He slides a hand down to your clit and begins rubbing it in small, quick circles. “No worries, I’ll have you screamin’ my name in no time. Gonna turn you into my little rag-doll.”

Your back arches as his thrusts also pick up speed. Every thrust has your legs trembling and voice cracking.

“Eren- fuck, it’s so good,” you babble in your gut-wrenching pleasure.

“Yeah?” His smirk is hot against your neck. He whispers, “How good?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts impossibly faster. Your hands dig into his biceps and when you feel blood bead at the skin, he hisses in pleasure.

“So good, no one does it like you, Eren.”

He throws his head back with a hearty groan. God, you don’t know what you do to him. Every time he thinks you’ve lured him in deep enough, he finds himself diving into you again, until he’s drowning in your wet, warm depths.

Your eyes meet his again. Your lashes flutter and Eren presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead after brushing away the hair plastered to it.

“Oh, yeah? It’s that good?” You nod lazily, your body jolting with the force of his thrusts. He takes one of your tits in his palm and squeezes hard. He lowers his mouth to yours, and you wet your lips in anticipation. “You gotta cum all over me then.”

You do. Ecstasy dances down your spine as you cry out his name. You squeeze your eyes shut as your clamp down on Eren’s cock. White flashes behind your eyelids like fireworks. You moan his name again and again and again and he tells you he knows, he knows, he knows. Your arousal drips down his shaft, leaving a glistening trail past his balls and onto the padded leather beneath you both.

“Good girl,” he coos. He brings the fingers circling your clit up to your lips, and you dart your tongue out to taste yourself.

His pace never relents, not even when you’re sobbing wildly. The aftershocks of your previous orgasm fade, and you’re already teetering on the edge of another. You wring your hands in the sweat-sodden material of his hoodie. You sob, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Already?” he tuts and laughs, his voice husky and low. He hums in approval before pinching your nipple tightly. The pain elicits a sweet, little cry from you. His voice is strangled when he asks, “Tell me what you need.”

“More, I need more, I need it harder,” you whine into his neck. You nuzzle into his collarbone, deeply inhaling his warm, vanilla cologne.

“You want harder? I’ll give you harder, you little slut,” he grunts as he hooks his arms under your knees, pinning them to your chest. The change in position angles his cock so deep into you, you can feel him in your throat. When you feel the head of his cock ram into your cervix, you shriek - half pain, half pleasure - and Eren swallows your cries with a wet and sloppy kiss, much like the mess between your legs.

Incoherent moans tumble from your mouth, your eyes find sanctuary in the back of your head and your wetness floods the seat below you. The sharp pain makes you gasp, makes your toes curl. The pads of Eren’s fingers are warm against your knees and his breath is searing against your neck. He continues to split you open on his cock, intent on ruining you on his lap.

He lifts his head to observe you, to admire your undoing. Your skin is sweaty and flushed, your lashes beaded with tears, your lips swollen and bitten. You’re a sight for sore eyes, a glimpse of heaven in his arms. Your eyes snap to his and you whimper in shame, mustering up the scraps of dignity you had remaining, shying away from the ferocity in his eyes.

Eren chuckles dryly at you. He calls your name. Once. Twice. You shake your head and bury it into your chest.

“Oh, no, no, no.” His hands come to rest on the back of your head, arms still hooked under your knees, and he roughly yanks your head back to look at him.

You gasp, “Eren-“

“Look at me.” Your eyes lock onto his. “Look at this.” He tilts your head down, maintaining his ruthless pace, “Look at you, baby, getting so wet for me.”

You laugh and sob, surveying the mess you’ve created. Your arousal is spread between your thighs - thick, slimy strings connecting your thighs to Eren’s. Your lips are stretched around his width, suctioning him into you with a lewd squelch. It’s so wet and sloppy and messy and it’s so, so perfect.

“Feels so- so, so good, baby, fuck,” you babble this out to Eren and he belts out his handsome, disarming laugh.

“Yeah? Bet it does.” You melt even further into his touch when he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

Watching yourself get split open by Eren sends you hurtling towards your release, so you breathe out a quiet, “Cumming.”

Eren chuckles, drops his lips to your ear, and murmurs, “Are you asking or telling me?”

You shake your head weakly. “Don’t make me beg.”

He chuckles quietly, deciding to take mercy on you. Eren sinks his teeth into your earlobe before he gives you a deep, hard thrust, and then commands you to, “Cum.”

Your legs go limp as the world stutters on its axis. The pleasure is mind-numbingly intense and white-hot bursts of relief wrack your body rhythmically. Your mouth gapes in a silent scream as Eren slams himself into your cervix again and again. Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and your head kills back onto his shoulder, too weak to watch yourself cum around him.

Your arousal, clear and copious, sprays everywhere in his car : his seat, the steering wheel, the windscreen, even your body. Eren moans at the sight of you squirting all over his car, you marking your territory. You shudder helplessly in his grasp, succumbing to the heat dousing your limbs. If not for Eren’s tight grip on you, you would have collapsed.

He keeps going, keeps thrusting, desperate to join you in the pleasure of orgasm. His thrusts become sloppier, but no less deep. You mewl with every pump of his hips against yours, overly sensitive and stimulated.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, strained and shaky, in your ear.

You moan at the thought of his hot, thick cum filling you up. “Inside, Eren, please, please, please-“

He cuts you off with a pained groan, “Fuck, you know I can’t do that.”

“Please, Eren, please,” you plead with him, your eyes wide and glassy, “Don’t I deserve it?”

His eyes snap shut and he lets out a shaky, ragged breath. “Shit, you’re making this really hard for me.” His hips pummel you faster, shallower, irregular, as if he’s losing his restraint.

Fuck it, he’s come this far, and he can’t say no to you. “You want it, baby? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I need it Eren, please give it to me,” you whimper desperately.

“Fuck,” he whines as he thrusts into you a final time, unloading himself into you. Sighing happily, you press a kiss to his cheek as you feel the warm spurts of cum paint your insides. He only pulls out when he stops pulsing inside you, wincing slightly.

Eren slumps against your shoulder, his chest rattling with every breath. Your hands tangle into his thick, chestnut hair. He grunts in approval. Quick, fleeting kisses are pressed to your shoulders and you shudder. Your movement reminds you of the mess between your legs, and you suddenly feel filthy.

“Eren,” your voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Eren’s response is muffled by your neck. “Yes, baby?”

You sniffle. “I’m messy,” Eren jerks up, seemingly rejuvenated after remembering the importance of aftercare.

“Shit, sorry, I’ll clean you up now,” he reaches for your hoodie and starts wiping at your inner thighs. He grins up at you over your shoulder - “You really made a mess huh?”

You shuffle awkwardly in his lap. You had squirted on his skylight, a mess was an understatement.

The corners of his lips pull upwards into a smirk, “Don’t worry about it, ‘m getting my car detailed anyway.” Humming when he’s deemed you clean, he rotates you so you’re eye to eye. His eyes twinkle with undulating lust as he wipes away your tears. “You good?”

You nod meekly, nuzzling his calloused palm.

He pinches your thigh. “Don’t get all shy on me now, you were being real loud earlier.” He tosses the hoodie into the backseat before placing kisses to both of your breasts. His brows pinch at the slightly pensive expression plastered on your face.

He tugs your hair lightly. “Do you want me to get you a Plan B? We can-“

“We were supposed to be talking, Eren,” you wring his hoodie in your hands.

A cocky grin spread across Eren’s face. “Oh, she was definitely talking to me,” he moves to cup your sex, but you swat his hand away. His smile drops at the deflated look in your face.

Sighing, you ask, “Are we ever going to talk about this?”

He frowns, brushing your hair out of your face. “I thought we were gonna forget about it? One time thing, you know?”

You sigh softly and slip your hands under the hem of his hoodie. As you run your hands along the ridges of Eren’s abdomen, his cock bobs.

“We can’t keep using that as an excuse to-“

“Do you regret it?”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up to meet his gaze and his eyes are glinting mischievously.

Squeezing your face between his fingers, Eren pulls your face towards his. His tongue slides along your bottom lip before he reclines. “Do you regret this? Us?”

You swallow.

You don’t respond.

But this time, Eren knows better.

He captures you in a slow, sloppy kiss. His lips meld to yours as he murmurs, “I don’t think we have to talk about anything then.” He sucks your bottom lip slowly, letting it swell in his mouth, before smirking impishly as he rasps, “Talking’s overrated.”

#eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #this is my baby #pls be nice #very new to this so idk what happens next #i need him #angel’s fics

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stayeudaemonia · 3 months

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ eventually — könig x best friend! fem! reader

warnings: not proofread (srry !!), pretty fluffy, blowjob, fingering?(sorta), cum eating, little bit of titty play :3, pretty vanilla overall !!🤍

‧₊˚ genre: smut

. ݁₊ ⊹ könig always made sure you were safe, like wrapping his muscled arm around your back so his hand rested on you hip as you walked through crowds. Or the way he would wrap you up in his jacket when you muttered, “cold” under your breath, he’d notice.

könig always made sure she was safe, like wrapping his muscled arm around her back so his hand rested on her hip as they walked through crowds. Or the way he would wrap her up in his jacket when she muttered, “cold” under her breath, he’d notice.

there was something about the way he watched her when they went out together, standing against the wall and white knuckling his glass as he watched some prick grind against her.

and she never missed the glint in his doe eyes when she complained about yet another failed relationship.

—

“he couldn’t even make me finish!” she huffed, plopping down on königs bed.

“i’m sorry sonnenschein,” he would mumble, “you will find someone eventually.”

“eventually better come soon.” she said, her voice coming out more so as a grumble as she wrapped her arms around him.

“‘s not fair.” she murmured into his side.

“what’s not fair?” he asked quietly, fiddling with her hair in his thick fingers.

“everything,” she sighed. “everyone else gets what they want, but when i want a guy to treat me right i get stuck with some random bozo!”

“it is unfair.” konig agreed, and tilted her chin to look up at him. she looked up at him with a small pout on her glossy lips. “very unfair.” konig muttered against her mouth.

a small gasp escaped her lips before his came crashing into hers. he pulled away swiftly.

“did i misread that?” he asked quietly, his eyes as wide as saucers.

she rolled her eyes and cupped his face “no,” she smiled “definitely not”

she pressed her lips against his as she slowly crawled on top of him. she only parted with him to slide her shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

“take,” she started, “take it off” she uttered.

“slow down, pretty girl” he chuckled, but shimmied out of his shirt. her eyes lit up at the sight of the abs that peeked through his soft tummy.

she shimmied between his thighs and fumbled with his fly. he deeply chuckled at her. “just help me.” she grumbled. “whatever you say, mein herz.” he purred and unzipped his fly and lifted his hips as he assisted her in sliding his jeans down.

he looked down at the wet patch on his boxers with a soft shade of pink blooming on his face. she softly sighed at the sight, a slight smile on her plush lips before she slid his boxers down. his cock bobbed out of boxers eagerly.

“jesus könig,” she muttered and his heart dropped, “you’re huge.” she whispered, her eyes wide. “j-just do something.” he whimpered.

she softly giggled and gave his dick a few experimental pumps. he softly whined and gripped his bedsheets as if they were the only thing grounding him.

she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes as she took his weeping tip into her mouth.

“o-oh that- that’s good” he sighed and with that she bobbed her head up and down.

after a few minutes, her jaw ached around his dick, but as she looked up at him, his eyes big as he looked down at her, and his lips parted, it was worth the dull throb of pain shooting through her face.

“s-stop- please ‘m gonna c-cum-“ he whimpered as his eyes fluttered shut and thick ropes of cum spurred into her mouth. she softly pulled away with a cheeky smile.

“oh- don’t- let me get you a tissue.” he said as his hand reached over to his nightstand.

“don’t bother,” she giggled, “‘s too late anyway.” his cheeks were red as she sat back up in his lap and pressed her swollen lips against his, he tasted himself on her.

his hand hastily slid up her back and unclasped her bra. könig watched as the straps slid down her arms. his eyes looked down to where her tits rested against his own chest. he brought his hands to them. he squeezed and toyed with her nipples as she let out quiet mewls.

“mein gott woman.” he muttered.

könig slid his hands down into her leggings and cupped her mound over her panties.

“please- do something.” she whined.

“calm down, sweet thing.” he cooed.

he slid her panties to the side and toyed with her clit, and with that she squealed. “oh- oh!” she whimpered.

his hand ached as he circled her nub faster, but when he looked at her face, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, mouth agape? he couldn’t care less about the soft throbbing in his wrist.

“oh könig!” she wailed, “i’m- ‘m gonna-“

“‘s okay, kleine,” he cooed, “go ahead.”

she cried out as her sopping pussy convulsed around nothing.

he pulled his hand out of her panties. “open.” he demanded. she looked up at him dumbfounded, so he brought his hand that once rested on her hip to her mouth and tapped her lips. with that her mouth opened though her brows were still furrowed in confusion until he stuffed two of his fingers that were crammed into her pants into her mouth. she quietly sucked on his digits, tasting herself as he adjusted their position so he was laying down and she was clinging onto him like a koala.

he gently pulled his fingers out of her mouth and rested her hand on his chest as it arose and fell softly as he breathed.

“du bist die liebe meines lebens” he muttered.

“eventually” was here and she couldn’t be happier.

a/n: this is literally my first time writing any sort of fan fiction so i hope this is okay and in the middle of writing this i accidentally exited the app and it deleted like half of it so i sorta gave up:( also i had no clue where this was going, didn’t even think i was gonna right smut but here we r !! oh my gosh i have so much to say, but i’ll start a masterlist n stuff once i write like five thingies !! also also please lemme know how i can improve !! 😸

#könig x reader #i’m nervous #pls be nice #and enjoy !!#cod x reader #konig x reader #x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig #call of duty #yippee

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starjammin · 1 year

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Competitive boyfriends

aka dumbasses that need to save the flirting for when there isn’t a bad guy to fight

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanart #rise of the tmnt movie #leosagi #rise leo #rise usagi #rise raph #rise mikey #rise donnie #leonardo hamato #yuichi usagi #this is my first post #pls be nice

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moony-2001 · 1 month

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This is one of my panels for a Lore Olympus redraw project I joined!

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skizzle1 · 6 months

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dorcas meadowes is so rockstar gf material i love her??

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nerdestiwrites · 2 months

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predator and prey (a hazbin hotel reader insert)

It had been just under a year since you died and ended up in Hell. It was a shock, at first, how could it not have been. You didn’t think Hell existed in the first place and yet you had woken up in a dark alleyway with the sky above a dark shade of red. The ground underneath you was wet in a liquid that reeked and there was trash of all kinds scattered above from beer bottles, empty chip bags, used needles, bags with unknown substances in it, and even gun shells.

It hadn’t been the red sky or the putrid smell of sulfur that made you realize where you were, it wasn’t even how you felt *different*. It took you stumbling out of the alleyway like a drunk, stumbling onto the street and seeing the residents of your new afterlife. They weren’t human, none of them were. Even the *human* looking ones had something fucked up going on with them. Horns, long claws, some were tiny while others towered over everyone. It was Hell, you came to realize, but Hell seemed scarily familiar to what you had just left.

What got you into Hell took a few days figuring out. You weren’t exactly a *good* person, but you hadn’t been *evil* either. You had been a drug user, dabbling in harder substances at parties but never an active user other than weed. You drank, more than you’d like to admit, it was easier to drink and hide everything than it was to face lifes never ending problems. You participated in corporate greed but only because it was forced upon you, if you didn’t you’d been homeless and dead sooner. Then there had been the kleptomania you had. It came in spurts. You’d steal things, sometimes without even thinking about it, other times it’d be purposeful. Sometimes you’d go months, even years without an incident. Perhaps you could’ve been less selfish, maybe less prideful, had less anger issues, but that was just part of being human, right?

The crimes seemed to stack against you, the more you thought about it. On top of not believing in God, you nearly checked every sin box there was and had your fair share of regrets. However instead of wallowing in self pity for ending up out of the frying pan and into the fires below, you decided to take this as a second chance. After all, as you had noticed quickly, Hell wasn’t all that different from the worst cities up on Earth anyway.

Getting to understand the hierarchy of Hell took all but one day to understand. After attempting to get a phone for yourself to keep up with everything, and because you could barely live without your phone when you were alive, souls seemed to have been one of the main forms currency. You didn’t make any deals, at least having that much of an understanding on how fucked you’d be if you did for something as simple as a phone. So instead, you stole a phone. What were they going to do if they caught you? Kill you? You were already dead, could you become dead times two? Dead squared?

It was in your second month of being in Hell that you understood who was considered an Overlord and who was a demon with just a handful of souls. There had been the TV demon that seemed to own every technological aspect of Hell, Vox. Everyone seemed to have been influenced by him or his colleagues in some way, the other Vs, other Overlords, as it was put. After the first broadcast you had witnessed, you quickly searched the Hell internet, hellternet, for any sort of VPN or antivirus program. You had a VPN back when you were alive, might as well have one now too, it might even be more important in Hell.

There was Carmilla, the arms dealer, who you’d her daughters briefly once. Rosie, another Overlord, a cannibal and leader of the accurately named Cannibal Town. Then there was Zestial, one of the oldest beings in Hell, according to everyone you had asked about. The Radio Demon, Alastor, was one to be weary of, you’ve heard the rumors of how quickly he became an Overlord, or more specifically *how*. Then a few more others that hadn’t made a big impression when hearing their stories.

It was in month three that you finally decided what you were going to do with your afterlife. Every sinner, or denizens as Hells occupants were called, were terrified of Overlords and overstepping. It was the power that could be felt radiating off of anyone who held more than just a couple souls, and those who started to gain some traction seemed to always be stopped. Like the Overlords who controlled Pride Ring wanted to keep their circle as small as possible.

You were going to break the system.

You were going to cause as much chaos for the Overlords as possible.

And you were going to do this without anyone knowing until it was too late to stop.

Two weeks after that you had made your first deal. Not for a soul of the other participant of the deal, but for a favor. Any favor to be redeemed whenever you saw fit. The demon, down on their luck and high out of their mind had been more than happy to make the deal. The catch you put in there was, the demon wouldn’t be able to say *who* they made a deal with, or what that deal entailed. If they did, then you’d own their soul. If they refused to repay the favor, you’d own their soul.

Three days later and another deal was struck, with the same fine print. A favor for a favor. Favors were everything, after all. And another deal just a day after that. And soon you had over two dozen deals by the end of the week, but no power as you owned no souls. So no one would even give you a second glance.

At five months you started to turn in a few favors, gaining a meeting with one of the Vs. Velvette to be more specific, as you figured she’d be easier to talk to and come to an understanding than the other Overlords. You and her weren’t that far apart in age, and you both knew the importance of how influencers truly ran the world, or rather Hell. You had dressed up, almost like you had been going to an interview, and had been glad you barely posted on any of the social medias that were run by Voxtech. It meant there was less that Velvette would be able to learn about you than what you had learned about her.

Velvette had made you wait twenty minutes over the agreed upon meeting time, but you had dealt with dozens of horrible interviews and managers that you easily sat in the office unaffected by the delay. It was a tactic of hoping to get the other to leave in annoyance or defeat, or get them frustrated to the point of being able to end the interview or meeting early. Good thing you knew these tricks already. So when the youngest Overlord walked into the room talking on the phone, you stayed seated, making no move to interrupt her.

“Make this quick, I’ve got a show to put on in twenty minutes.” Her voice was snappy, filled with disinterest, and she sat herself down in one of the chairs around the large table. Her eyes never left her phone as her fingers typed away, not giving any attention towards you.

You give a cocked eyebrow before nodding, standing now, just to stretch. “Right, well, I’ll make this quicker than a Voxtok video.” You started and the meeting lasted four minutes and ended with the exchange of numbers, gaining Velvettes personal phone number and an invite to a night out for drinks.

What had been said in that meeting was kept a secret, and those who tried to eavesdrop for Vox, as Velvette had pointed out might happen, had been quickly killed by the Overlord.

Month ten was when the Extermination happened. Your first time experiencing the slaughter of sinners from the Exorcists. Velvette invited you to stay with her and the Vs during the slaughter, but you declined offer, not one to be indebted to someone. You instead took chance of staying in your own little apartment, which you had upgraded some during your brief time in Hell, thanks to the favors those owed you.

After the Extermination, it had been an amazing playing field for deals. By the end of the week you had nearly doubled the favors people owed you, some demons coming back and now owed more than one favor. You could now spend favors and still be having an influx of them, so you used them to gain information on all the Overlords. As much as you possibly could. The two hardest Overlords to get information on were Zelestial and Alastor, who seemed to have been missing for seven years now.

A text appeared on your phone, pulling you out of thought as you sipped the steaming coffee from the mug. Your eyes scanned over the text, eyebrows furrowing slightly, before you grabbed the remote to the TV you had bought yourself. You knew that Vox could at any point use the device against you, but you had given him no reason to. You were a nobody after all, or that’s at least what he thought. With a click of a button, the TV flickered on and showed a broadcasted commercial briefly showing a Hotel before it was interrupted by the news. The next Extermination would be happening six months sooner. And chaos erupted outside on the streets.

Velvy: There was a meeting today between the Princess and Heaven

Velvy: My bets is the royal brat pissed off Heaven

Velvy: That commercial wasn’t even good. Don’t know how they managed to get it on the network without Vox knowing.

The texts came in quick and you read them over. So the Hotel had been the Princess’ project then? Perhaps meeting with the Princess of Hell now wouldn’t be a bad idea, perhaps you could give your input on the whole thing, maybe get on the royals good side even.

You: I’ll figure it out.

And with those words, you made plans to take a trip to the outskirts of the city to the hotel and see what the Princess had been doing.

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hereforh · 1 year

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I Don't Wanna Face The Music

Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different.

Until he makes these news friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get go and makes him question everything he has every thought about himself.

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ghostsy · 2 years

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A Spotted Mind

WARNINGS: yandere, abuse of power, possessiveness, nsfw, smut, non-consensual implications, implied kidnapping

A/N: i'm not sure how i feel about this, but it took me longer than it should've, so i'm posting it. ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! SHINSO HITOSHI X READER

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, I know it isn’t exactly fair, but–”

“No. I mean, I don’t understand.” Calloused hands ran through purple locks, pulling, tugging, anything to alleviate the building frustration.

“Years. Years risking my life, years saving lives, years doing everything a hero is supposed to fucking do.” There was a humourless laugh cutting through the words.

This couldn’t be fucking happening. He started pacing, hands unsure, clenching and unclenching their fists, rubbing down his face.

“And where does that get me? Back in elementary school apparently, where everyone’s scared of the freak with the villain’s quirk.” His eyes hardened, flashing with memories he thought he’d long buried, fears he had long killed.

“Stop.” His former mentor’s voice, monotonous as ever, made him pause; he turned to meet his eyes–well eye and eye patch. “Those are the terms, like it or not. And while I, personally, err on the side of not, that won’t get us anywhere.”

“So what? I don’t have any choice? Let the Hero Commission fuck about with my life all they want, or give up my hero license? You can’t be serious.”

The black haired man sighed, “Things are a little different than in my day, kid. Even underground heroes have to appeal to the public now–”

He scoffed, “I’d hardly say I’m the most unlikeable hero. Or did they happen to forget the guy who explodes buildings and yells at reporters like it’s a sport? Oh, but he’s number two, and makes tween girls wet, so fuck me, I guess.”

“You can sit here throwing a pity party for yourself, if that’s what you want. But you have a choice to make: give up the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve, the dream you’ve bled for, the dream people have died for…” Uncrossing his arms, his mentor pushed off the wall.

“Or,” He headed for the door, hand catching on the frame, “Go to therapy.”

He paused, turning; a sly smile played at his lips, “Who knows, you might actually like it.”

. ♡ .

“Nice to meet you! No…Nice to meet you! Ugh, that’s worse. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

She huffed out a sigh, smoothing over her pencil skirt in the floor length mirror, and shook the nerves from her body. She squared her face into a serious expression, reaching a hand towards her reflection.

“Nice to meet you, Mr…” Her hand hung mid air, eyes searching the ceiling for an answer before she groaned, smacking a hand over her face. “What am I even supposed to call him? His hero name? Or…is that too impersonal?”

She started pacing, “No. You don’t know him, you aren’t friends.” Her hands rubbed at her face, “But this is supposed to be a comfortable environment.”

She didn’t hear the knock at her door as she muttered to herself, “Hero name or real name. Hero name or real name…eenie meenie–”

“Uhh, am I interrupting something?”

She yelped, jumping a bit in her skin, before scrambling to contain herself.

“Ah! Hello!” She cleared her throat in an attempt to rid herself of the squeakiness, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Mr–” She tripped over the plush chair in front of her on her way to greet him, only to be caught by toned arms instead of old leather.

He helped her up as she dusted herself off, flustered, and embarrassed. Looking into lilac eyes, she found indifference and annoyance. How should she deal with this?

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That was incredibly unprofessional.” She sighed, introducing herself, “How would you like me to address you?”

He gave her his name, “I’m not exactly a working hero right now, anyway.” His face twisted in irritation, and she made a mental note, painting a pleasant smile on her lips.

“The Hero Commission informed me of your situation. I promise, spend the next six months with me, and I’ll send you home with a stamp of approval, and then you can get right back to saving lives.” She giggled a bit, reaching a hand to her face like a schoolgirl sharing a secret, “But, between you and me, I think this is complete bullshit.”

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise, softening a bit, and she fist pumped in her mind. Nailed it!

“In any case, we should get started. Sit, please.” She gestured to the couch across from them, and he took a seat. She cleared her throat as she sat herself in her chair, “I assume you know why you’re here with me today?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah.”

A beat. Nope, okay, that’s all she was getting right now. Time to change tactics.

“You know, since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together these next few months, it might be best to get to know each other a bit before diving in head first. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

His eyes scanned her, analyzing, sizing her up, “You look a little young to be a therapist.”

Internally she sighed, she was expecting that one, “I’m twenty-four, so you’re technically correct. However, I assure you, I am more than qualified.”

He scoffed a bit, “What, am I your first client or something?”

“As someone who has worked as a hero since age fifteen, I’m sure you understand that there is no age requirement to start helping people.” She supposed it was her fault for opening this door in the first place.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, doc.”

Well, that was annoying. She sighed, No, she could do this.

“Do you know why the Hero Commission sent you to me?”

“Like I said, I–”

“No.” She kept the pleasant smile on her face. No time like the present, she supposed, “I mean, why they sent you to me.”

He was growing agitated, she could tell, “No.”

“Well, I may know a thing or two about having a villainous quirk.”

. ♡ .

So she could read minds. Big deal. He kicked a stray rock along the sidewalk as he walked home. He huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. That was hardly villainous. It’s not like she could do anything with that. He could mind control, for fuck’s sake.

But, he paused, he supposed he could see her point. He’d spent a good part of their hour and a half session on edge, wondering if she had looked into his mind, violated his privacy.

She had given him a sheepish smile, and assured him she wouldn’t use her quirk without his permission. To which he became even more suspicious. If she wasn’t reading his mind, how did she know what he was thinking?

“How do I know what you’re thinking if I’m not reading your mind, right?” She’d giggled. He had had half a mind to walk out right there.

“Believe it or not, you’re an incredibly easy person to read. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

Well, fuck you too, then. No one on the planet had ever told him that. In fact, he took pride in the monotonous, uncaring mask he’d perfected over the years.

“Oh, please don’t take offense,” She fiddled with her fingers before looking back up at him, “it’s…a side effect. Of my quirk. I can’t really turn that part off–the…understanding people part.”

She was an endearing little thing, he’d give her that. “S’fine.” He’d avoided her gaze in part embarrassment, and part annoyance. No. He wasn’t supposed to like her. This whole thing was happening against his will.

He huffed out a sigh, eyes following the setting sun. Six months. Six months, and he’d be free. He could do that. But he’d be damned if he enjoyed it.

. ♡ .

“Bullshit.”

She laughed, almost doubling over when she met his dull eyes, “I’m serious!”

“You’re just trying to one up me right now; there’s no way you got expelled for using your quirk,” He scoffed.

“I did!” She stifled her laughter to explain, “Granted, I’d read the teacher’s mind to get answers to a test, so it wasn’t completely unwarranted.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and she knew she was being judged, “In my defense, I was like twelve, and terrible at algebra.”

He remained unimpressed, “So you cheated,” he crossed his arms, “How did they even know you used it?”

“Well, I have to make eye contact, you know,” He nodded as she explained, “So, it’s not exactly discreet, but–”

“Okay, but if you’re in someone’s mind, how would they know that?”

“Let me finish! So, I’m flipping through Mrs. Kamakura’s mind, and–”

“Flipping?”

“Mhmm! People’s minds are like…storybooks. You get little flashes of images as you–sort of think of it as–as you’re flipping the page,” She paused, “Wait, you don’t get that?”

“What the fuck? No, IMAX, I don’t get that. It’s like…” He trailed off, eyes searching for the explanation, “It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

She blinked, and he nearly cursed himself for freaking her out, only to be met with the sound of laughter, “Wait, wait, so–oh my god–that’s like, you gotta know that sounds kinky as fuck, right?”

He felt his face heat, and while he knew he should be disgusted, he let his mind flash with an image: he had to admit, she’d look good like that, at his feet, eyes wide, thighs pressed together in anticipation of what he’d make her do next—thank god she was too much of a goody two shoes to look inside.

He squared his face back to neutral, “I could have your license revoked for that, you know.”

She settled, a warm smile at her lips as she shrugged, “You’re more than welcome to take your complaints up with the Hero Commission, but I can’t guarantee your next therapist will be nearly as fun as me.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile, “You’re hardly a therapist.”

“Oh my god,” She gasped mockingly, “You are so rude! No wonder you got stuck with me.”

He laughed, and as he caught sight of the twinkle in her eyes, a feeling he couldn’t quite place bubbled in his chest.

. ♡ .

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Look, I know it’s not exactly a pleasant memory, but–”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it.” He crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze.

She sighed out his name, “You’ve been coming to see me for a few weeks now, and we have yet to even talk about the reason you’re here in the first place.” She really did like talking casually with him, but she had a job to do, never mind how he huffed at her like a petulant child.

“You’re the one who said that reason is bullshit, so I don’t know why you’re pressing the issue.”

Yep. She knew that would come back to bite her.

“Just because it’s bullshit doesn’t mean it has no consequences,” She was trying so hard to stay the good guy; she finally felt like he’d started to trust her, “I understand what it’s like to–”

“You don’t understand anything. So you got kicked out of school when you were twelve for cheating on a test,” He scoffed, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have the people you’re trying to help look at you like you’re a—like you’re a fucking monster?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

“No, you don’t,” His eyebrows knit together in frustration, “I’m out there trying to save the lives of people who hate me while you’re in here making small talk with whoever’s unlucky enough to pass through your door. It’s not the same thing.”

There was a beat of silence, and something twisted in his chest when he caught a glimpse of the kicked puppy look that crossed her face. Before he could apologize she began speaking.

She rolled her lip between her teeth, sighing, “You know, you’re the first hero client I’ve ever had.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished, “I mean, technically, you were right, I haven’t really had clients before, either.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “Then, what–”

“I told you I was expelled from school when I was twelve, but I never told you that that was the last school I ever went to,” A melancholy look glazed over her eyes, “Somewhere along the line, don’t ask me how, the Hero Commission was informed of my quirk–apparently mind reading is rarer than you think.”

She started to fiddle and pull at her fingers as she avoided his gaze, “I spent the next six years in special schooling, before interrogating captured villains for the Hero Commission,” A humourous laugh left her, “my parents were just so excited at the prospect of their little girl being some type of hero.”

“But, you know,” Her voice started to shake, “When you’re invading someone’s mind, stealing their thoughts, no matter how many bad things they’ve done, no matter how villainous they claim to be,” she swallowed the unshed tears, eyes hardening, “When they fight, and claw, and beg for you to just please, get out of their head, you don’t feel like anyone’s hero.”

He knew the feeling well, and as he listened, he found a sort of familiarity in her words. Had anyone been able to put his thoughts into words before?

She smiled a bitter smile, “So, yeah, I know what it’s like to be looked at like a…fucking monster.”

He swallowed, hating the break in her voice. “I didn’t know that.”

She cleared her throat, “As the years went by, I wasn’t just interrogating villains, I was talking to them, helping them,” Her eyes shifted, “They’re people too, you know. They deserve a chance just like the rest of us–to change.”

That bubbling feeling in his chest started to boil. He decided he kind of liked it. The warmth of it. Of her.

She huffed out another laugh, “So imagine my surprise when the Hero Commission came to me with a new challenge. Not a villain. But a hero. A hero to help.” She finally met his gaze, “You.”

. ♡ .

She tossed a few newspaper articles on the glass table in between them, gesturing for him to sort through them. He rolled his eyes, reluctantly obliging.

“Well?” She asked earnestly.

He quirked a brow, lifting his gaze to meet hers, “Well?”

“How do those articles make you feel?”

He scoffed, “Oh, fuck off.”

She laughed lightly, “I’m serious. Come on, tell me. How do they make you feel?”

“You know, for a fake therapist, you’re awfully stereotypical.”

“Now you fuck off, I’m not a fake therapist,” Her lips pulled into a crooked grin, “You know, if you don’t wanna talk about it, I could always take a peek? Would just take a second.” Her smile turned mischievous.

He hated the way his chest warmed, a smile pulling at his lips, “What, you spill your deep dark secrets to me, and it only takes two months to start threatening me?”

“I’m not threatening you.”

The singsong in her voice made him want to take her over his knee. Brat. Wait. Fuck–he really needed to stop thinking of her like that. But he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated as he imagined it.

Ass on full display, glowing red. Hands numb as he trapped them in one of his own while she cried. Her hair sticking to her face with the wetness, begging for his forgiveness. He’d give it to her, of course he would. But, he’d tell her, stroking the dome of his canvas, she needed to earn it first.

He shook himself from his thoughts and rolled his eyes playfully, turning back to the articles.

‘UNDERGROUND HEROES: ARE THEY REALLY HERE TO PROTECT YOU?’

and another few with his hero name plastered at the top,

‘MIND CONTROL HERO USES QUIRK ON UNSUSPECTING CIVILIANS’

and

‘HERO OR VILLAIN IN DISGUISE? THE TRUTH ABOUT AN UNDERGROUND HERO.’

“I feel like these are complete bullshit.”

She looked unimpressed, “Bullshit is not a feeling.”

He searched her eyes for mercy, and found none, “Fine,” he groaned, “I feel angry. I feel like no matter what I do, I just can’t fucking win; I’m always the bad guy, like this one–”

He pulled up the second article, “Unsuspecting civilians?” He scoffed, “I was responding to a domestic violence call, sue me for telling a guy to stop beating his wife.”

“And this one,” He pulled out another, “What, villain in disguise? Just cause the paparazzi got a picture of me half awake at four in the goddamn morning, and I had the audacity to look annoyed?”

He went on, listing the problems with each and every one, before sighing. “I just don’t understand. Tabloids print stupid rumours about heroes all the time, but because of my quirk, everyone thinks they somehow must be true?”

He was getting heated, hands becoming animated as he spoke, “What? I make one real mistake, and I’m suddenly like some burnt out celebrity who gets sent to rehab, so that they can get back in society’s good graces. It’s…bullshit.”

“You know,” He laughed a bit in disbelief, “I don’t give a shit if you’re a fake therapist or not, I’m telling you this in confidence, okay?” He looked up at her.

Startled a bit at the abrupt pause, her eyebrows raised, but she nodded quickly in affirmation, gesturing for him to continue.

“It’s almost like they want me to be a villain,” he huffed, hands pulling at his hair, “And…and sometimes…sometimes I feel like…maybe I’d be better off as one.”

His eyes shifted, “No,” searching desperately for the words, “That’s not true,” he sighed, hands rubbing at his face.

“For once,” he lifted his gaze, “Just for once, I’d like to be someone’s hero,” his eyes seemed to burn so intensely into hers that she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

. ♡ .

She fiddled with her fingers as she stood in front of the boardroom, willing herself not to rock back and forth on her heels. Her eyes scanned the room, searching the faces for any discernible shifts in emotion.

“And you’re positive?” One of the men finally spoke, “It’s only been four months–the agreement was six.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by another, scratchier voice.

“You’re kidding, right?” He scoffed, “four months of chitchat, and you’re ready to send him back into the field?”

Someone else cleared their throat, “I’m inclined to agree–the severity of the situation demands more promising results than simply your word.”

She nodded, and, at the ensuing silence, realized that was her cue, “Ah! Yes, well. I really do think we’ve made progress. Of course, I’m willing to wait two more months, but–”

“But he has some of the best capture numbers on the Hero Billboard,” The man at the head of the table interrupted, “It’s in our best interest to get him back to work as soon as possible. If you’re sure we can assure the public of the anomaly of the matter–”

“She hasn’t even used her quirk,” The man with the scratchy voice interrupted, “At least give us that assurance,” He scoffed, “The man publicly dismembered a villain on national television.”

“With all do respect, sir, he didn’t dismember anyone,” She interjected, letting her annoyance get the better of her for a moment before containing herself, “While I agree the reaction was extreme–”

“And the fact that children watched as a man ripped his own limbs off.” Another scoffed.

She cleared her throat, “Yes, well,” Her eyes shifted, searching for the answer, “Had he done nothing, none of those children would have lived to see another day–lest we forget the damage those limbs were capable of–he’s a hero, at the end of the day,” She was getting heated again, “He did his job; we should all be grateful.”

There was a beat of silence as the words were absorbed, and the man at the head of the table finally spoke, “I trust your judgment,” Her eyes nearly lit up, but then, “But, I also see the appeal of assurance we can give the public. Look into his mind–the knowledge that this won’t happen again, that he isn’t a threat, will ensure we don’t end up right back here in a few months time.”

She deflated, but regained her composure, swallowing the unease building in her chest, “Yes, sir.”

. ♡ .

“No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on! I just wanna know what it feels like. You’re the only person I’ve met with a quirk even similar to mine–”

“I said, No.”

“How ‘bout we make a deal?” She stamped down the building feelings of guilt–this was the only way to help him, really help him.

He turned the words over in his mind, “What deal?”

Stop it. This is for the best. “You use your quirk on me, just like I asked.”

His eyes dulled, “I’m not seeing the deal part of this arrangement.”

“Hear me out,” There was a thrumming of anxiety in her chest, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

There was a beat of silence before he snorted, “Never knew you were such a pervert, doc.”

Her face heated, and she tripped over her words, “That’s not what I mean!” She huffed, collecting herself, “You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

“Who says I want you in my mind, pervert?” His eyes narrowed playfully.

“Stop calling me that, or I swear I’ll make sure you’re stuck with me ‘till you die.”

“Would that be so terrible?” He surprised himself with the words, but the way her cheeks heated soothed his own embarrassment. Fine, he figured, he’d give her a bone. “Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket, deal.”

“Really?” She nearly sighed from relief, but then he continued.

“But” He told her, “You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes, scanning him for a moment, before deciding, “...Do you look at foot fetish por–”

“Okay!” He interrupted, flustered, “ Deal’s off.”

“Nooo!” She whined, “I take it back, I was kidding, please.”

She paused a moment, “You know, you shouldn’t be ashamed, everyone has their own ki–”

“I swear to God, I’ll use my quirk on you just to get you to shut the fuck up.”

She hummed, content, “Lovely,” She gestured for him to continue, “take it away.”

He rolled his eyes, “I have to ask you a question, what are you, stupid?”

“Hey–!” And she was gone.

He found himself staring into blank pupils, and missing the color. Though, he couldn’t help the giddiness that bubbled in his chest of having her under his control. Fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. She was wrong–he enjoyed the fantasy of this moment far too much–it was her fault for pressing the issue in the first place.

He shook himself from his thoughts, opting to scan across her body. How easy it would be. He thought. She wouldn’t even remember. He could be buried balls deep inside her, ruin her, and she’d be none the wiser. But, he sighed, he’d really rather her a conscious participant.

He glanced down at the table where a glass of water sat in front of her. She’d be so pissed. But, he’d be able to see her tits through her ruined white blouse without committing a felony. Yeah, that would do just fine.

“Pick up that glass of water.” She obeyed. “Pour it over yourself.” She did. Well, fuck. He knew he’d enjoy the view, but felt embarrassed at the growing tightness in his pants.

I mean, he hadn’t let her go just yet–he could alleviate himself–No. He told himself. He promised he’d behave. He waited a little while for the bulge in his pants to die down before releasing her.

“Wha–” She groaned, but it fell to a whine when she felt the wetness on her chest, “Are you kidding me? You are such an asshole!”

He huffed out a laugh as she lamented the ruined shirt, “Hey, you made your bed–I told you I didn’t want to do it.”

“Fuck you,” she said, stamping, and twisting at the shirt with her hands, “You owe me a new shirt.”

He shrugged, “Your turn, doc,” He paused, would she see those dirty thoughts of his? “Surface level, okay? Surface level.”

She nodded, smiling a bit when he handed her his jacket–-only for her to use it as a towel, wiping at her shirt. He really couldn’t win, could he?

“It’ll be easier to do that if you relax,” She adjusted herself in her seat, meeting his eyes, “That way, no stray thoughts pop up in your brain that you don’t want me to see. Otherwise, I won’t be able to control what I find.”

He wondered if she was aware of his thoughts already, but a look in her eyes, and he found nothing but earnest innocence, trust. He sighed internally, the shit he’d do for her.

“Fire away, doc.”

It was always a bit strange at first. Storybook analogy aside, everyone’s mind formulated its thoughts a bit differently, and each time she’d have to navigate a different type of maze. She made a point to look only for what she came for, no matter how curious she became. But, as she sorted through his mind, she couldn’t find any truly villainous thoughts.

She sighed internally; she was right. The Hero Commission was wrong. And now, she could give him what he’s wanted these past few months, and send him on his way. Though, she found herself a bit disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing him around anymore. No, she shook herself from her thoughts, Don’t be selfish.

Nothing out of the ordinary; she should leave before things became more complicated, and as if the universe could read her mind, she was met with a flood of thoughts.

He watched as she sat across from him, eyes boring into his, mind elsewhere–well mind inside his. Think normal thoughts, he repeated, think normal thoughts. His eyes caught sight of the sheer fabric sticking to her skin, and he felt himself slip.

There was a flash of him bent over a woman on a desk, her desk–was that her? Her wrists caught in a deadlock by his hand as he rammed into her. She was crying out for him, back arched, ass pressing into the hips that slammed against her. Fuck me. His other hand wound around her hair, yanking her head up to look at him. Fuck me! Kissing up her neck, his teeth left bruises in their wake.

Love me. Sweat dripped down from his brow, and he licked up her cheek, biting at her earlobe. Love me! He took her jaw in his fingers, turning her face to kiss her–she was sure that was her now. Spit glossed their lips as he pulled back, rutting into her in a way that had pornographic whines forced from her throat, drool coating her chin, and staining the desk below them. Her face heated, and she scrambled to leave his mind before finding something newer, something more disturbing.

Oh my god, she thought. Was he walking her on a fucking leash? No. Don’t kinkshame. That’s fine–

Yes, Master. The woman, this abomination that was her, purred. Whatever you want, Master.

He watched her face as she knelt below him. Fingers running down between her tresses and pulling, letting her whine, and squeal, choking as he guided her bloated lips up and down and up and down his cock. Come on, He told her, Beg me, a sharp smile, canines dripping, Beg me to let you breathe. Her tears wet the purple tuft at his v-line, lips stained with precum, eyes shiny and wide, looking up at him as she tried not to spasm from the bulge shoved halfway down her throat. Searching for approval.

It’s just a thought he can’t–

They were on a bed. She was crying–his hands around her throat, fingers curled into the collar secured tightly around her neck–as he fucked into her. Her eyes crossed, tongue hanging from her mouth as her tits rocked from the force. Sweat dripped from his abs to where her legs were spread by his hips. He mouthed at her tits, pulling a nipple between his teeth while he took the other breast in his hand, kneading, squeezing. She was squealing. Please, sir. That didn’t sound like her. Can I cum?

Her hands reached up to tug at his locks, but he forced them into the mattress, fingers intertwining with her own. He snorted, You cum when I say you can, pet. She whined as his hips sped their motions, moaning, and turning, trying and failing to pull her hands from beneath his grip.

Please, Master, can I cum Master? I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good, Master. That god forsaken collar tethered her to the bed like a glorified sex doll–little bell jingling each time he thrust into her. He laughed, and she couldn’t help the chill in her bones. Who do you belong to, huh? His breath ragged from exertion, Tell your Master who you belong to.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

She forced herself out of his mind, heart threatening to break out of her chest.

He looked startled as she came to, and she willed her breathing to slow, swallowing the nerves screaming at her inside her mind. She couldn’t read the emotion that crossed his face, but his eyebrows raised as he waited for her to say something.

She let out a shaky breath, forcing out a laugh, “So,” She swallowed, “Kind of disappointed I didn’t find that foot fet–”

He snorted, “Fuck off,” She followed, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

. ♡ .

“So, that’s it?”

“There’s already a message out to the press,” His mentor told him, “You’re off the hook as soon as it airs.”

“But it’s only been four months?” This didn’t make sense, “What happened?”

“Must have made quite the impression on your therapist,” The older man snorted, “She went right to the Hero Commission, gave them a full clean bill of mental health.”

He knew he should be happy, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. “Can I talk to her?”

The man shrugged, “Don’t see why not, though,” A yawn cut through the words, “heard the Commission’s transferring her–something about the branch in America.”

His heart fell through his chest. She was leaving him without so much as a goodbye? Scratch that. She was leaving him.

“I at least owe her my thanks,” He sighed, eyes hardening in determination, “Let me meet with the Commission."

. ♡ .

She was dodging his calls. A part of her felt badly for her trepidation; he was attracted to her, so what? He was an attractive man. Even she had the stray thought now and then. She’d seen so much worse in the minds of villains, some things that still gave her nightmares. He’s a guy; of course he’s gonna be thinking about sex.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head. She’d been in so many minds, his wasn’t any different. Except it was.

“It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

Control.

That was it. He’d enjoyed it in his thoughts. She knew it. A palpable feeling in the atmosphere of his mind, drunk on the idea of controlling her.

She’d joked about his kinks, about sex. Maybe a bit unprofessional, in retrospect. But she was trying to lighten the mood. He was her patient, and she was there to help him, to get him to open up. Sue her for trying to be personable.

But it wasn’t just controlling her in the bedroom, where he imagined her beneath him, kneeling at his feet in reverence, like he was–

Like he was her hero. She realized.

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

That’s what he had said. She thought it endearing at first, convinced he had more than earned his freedom, but…the way he looked at her,

“You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

There was something darker. Something lurking under the surface. She couldn’t quite place it, losing herself in her thoughts. As she racked her brain for the answer, she didn’t hear the knock at the door.

“Am I interrupting something?”

She jumped, yelping as she turned to catch sight of the purple haired man standing too casually, too comfortably, in her doorway.

“Ah! Oh my god,” She cleared her throat of its squeakiness. She didn’t want to seem vulnerable. “You scared me.”

She stood, not so much to greet him, but in an effort to feel more secure. “Can I ask how you got my address?” She forced a laugh to lighten the atmosphere, “What, you stalking me or something?”

He shrugged, pushing the door closed as he made his way over to her, “Perks of being a working hero,” He paused as he neared her, “Thanks to you.”

Yeah. Way to go. She really tried not to back away as a hand came to brush at her hair, but her feet moved on their own. A look of hurt passed lilac eyes before settling on annoyance. Wow. You nailed it. Shut up.

He cleared his throat, “Heard you were leaving,” He studied her as her fingers started pulling at each other. Not a question. Good. Wait–why was she thinking about that?

“Yeah,” She thought she might rip off one of her fingers with the tension, “They’re opening a new rehabilitation program in–”

“You didn’t say goodbye.” He stepped closer. You know him. Stop freaking out.

“Yes, well, I’m s–” She stepped backward.

“You know,” His eyes flickered to where her hands fidgeted, “You do that when you’re nervous.” A step forward.

“I’m not–” Another step backward.

He sighed, “I told you to stay surface level.” His eyes shifted, and he huffed, “If you’d just stayed surface level,” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She forced a laugh, “I don’t know what you’re–”

“Cut that out.”

She sighed, “I’m sorry,” Maybe he was just angry at her for violating his privacy. That must be it. “That was wrong of me. I understand if–”

“Honestly, did me a favor,” He huffed out a laugh. What. “Don’t know if I’d ever have had the guts in the first place,” Oh. Was this a confession?

She breathed out his name, “Everyone has feelings,” This was fine. Deescalation. This would work. “And you can’t control all your thoughts. Maybe we should start over.”

He looked at her a moment, eyes widening a fraction before softening. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Almost out of the woods. “Would’ve hated for it to go the other way.” The other way?

“The other way?” It tumbled from her mouth before she could stop it.

He shook his head, “Nevermind,” He looked around, “I’ll help you unpack.” What?

“Unpack?” She felt like a goddamn parrot at this point.

“Well, yeah,” He said it as if it were obvious, “Can’t start over if you’re halfway across the world.”

He was being purposely obtuse, right? This was a joke?

She laughed, but his face remained neutral. She cleared her throat, Professional. Be Professional. “While I appreciate the humour, there are people who need my help in Am–”

“You know, The Hero Commission are fucking terrified of me,” he said, eyes hardening, as if gathering resolve. Where was this going?

“Should’ve realized sooner,” His eyes were cutting into hers, “They’d do just about anything to keep up their image.” He stepped forward again.

“Do anything to keep from another incident,” Her back hit the wall. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“You said it yourself, I’m not a villain,” Something shifted, and she saw a glimpse of the kind man she’d come to know these past months. He was gone the next second, “I’d really hate it if you made me a villain.”

“Listen, I’m not sure what–”

“Let’s make a deal,” He smirked, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

“I don’t want to–”

“You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

He was using her own goddamn words against her.

“You go first,” He brought his face to her level, hand pressed to the wall above her, “C’mon, fire away, doc.” She whimpered, She tried to rationalize the situation in her mind. She knew this man. Didn’t she?

Stall, and you’ll figure a way out. Maybe she could find something useful in his mind.

She nodded, swallowing. She shook her nerves, feeling drowned by the lilac eyes in front of her. It wasn’t like the last time she’d been inside. Everything he’d been keeping under the surface bubbled up, overwhelming all her senses. It was suffocating. It was fucking terrifying.

She didn’t like this. She didn’t understand this. What the fuck was she seeing?

“Hey,” His other hand took her jaw between his fingers, eyes inside his mind, but ears open, “How does it feel, huh?” His lips were brushing hers.

“How does it feel to be able to see every single thing I’m gonna do to you, and not be able to do a damn thing about it?”

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere shinsou hitoshi #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinsou hitoshi x reader #yandere shinso hitoshi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso #shinso is so hard to write for #pls be nice

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