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seeingivy · 3 days

Text

long story short

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

songs mentioned: saturn by sza, so american by olivia rodrigo, lover by taylor swift, good luck babe by chappell roan, margaret ft. bleachers by lana del ray, make you feel my love by adele, false god by taylor swift, only angel by harry styles, and long story short by taylor swift.

an: buckle in friends. songs and tweets and all :D

previous part linked here

six months later

The two of you decide that it would be smarter not to stay in the townhouse, for the time being. Because while Eren had bent backwards and forwards to buy the house without Levi noticing – which included paying a hefty tip to the realtors dealing with the sale – there was something too melancholy about staying there – and not having a plethora of voices echoing across the walls.

Eren’s first plan – to stay in the cabin in Ireland that his parents owned – was your next best bet. And really, it was the quietest little patch of land, accompanied by what might be the coziest town you’ve ever been in – and it was every bit of perfect.

The cabin was two stories and maybe the uniquest little house you’ve ever been in. With gold accents, a green kitchen, and what might be the prettiest garden – it was almost far too easy to pretend that you and Eren had left the bright shimmering lights and camera flashes behind.

Eren’s morning usually starts hours before yours – only because he insists that he has to run in the mornings to get a good start to the day. If you’re in a good enough mood, he’s able to coax you to come with him and the two of you choose to walk instead. Sometimes you wonder if Sukuna and Teddy talk about the same thing on their walks that you and Eren do.

The neighbors are either too old to mention anything or perhaps too polite. Because they show up here and there, unassumingly with a fresh loaf of baked bread, that they simply couldn’t let go to waste. And their kids that you happen to see on holidays, their eyes linger for a little too long – almost like they’re trying to convince themselves that it really is the two of you – but never make a comment about if they ever do get the shred of confidence.

There’s a kid, barely eleven, who brings homemade yogurt around on Friday, as an errand before he can go play with his friends. Sometimes Eren makes him late to his basketball games, because he finds himself lingering by the door too long, talking about things that are entirely lost to you. Though you should have figured as much, because Eren was always popular with the kids.

And you find a stray cat three months in – one that Eren lovingly names Milo. A tiny british shorthair, with light green eyes and white fur. Upon first inspection, you told Eren jokingly that you simply had to keep him, because he had Eren’s eyes. Eren took the joke a little too seriously, but the little diva that Milo ended up being always kept things interesting.

The only thing annoying about the cabin is Eren’s placement of the furniture, specifically the well loved coffee table that, in your opinion, needed to be centered in the main room. And that’s only because every morning, you’d get your breath nearly knocked out of your chest when you walked straight into it.

“You know, you need to move that goddamn coffee table.” you grumble, rubbing at the side of your hip.

Eren looks over, before placing his hands on your hips and lifting you up onto the counter. It’s a lingering kiss that he presses to your knuckles, as you use your free hand to rub at your eyes, before looking over at the pan.

“Connie’s on his way?” you ask.

“An hour out.” Eren responds.

“Okay, I’ll go set the clothes out. Anything specific you want?”

“The green hoodie. That you stole and thought I didn’t notice.” Eren grates.

You jump off the counter, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, before padding back into the room and setting the clothes aside. And it’s only a few minutes before Eren’s at your side, giving you a half-appreciative smile for returning the hoodie.

“Are you nervous? You know he’s going to have a meltdown right?”

Eren scoffs.

“Serves him right for what he did. Walking around talking about his girlfriend – you know, I’m half convinced she doesn’t even exist, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes.

“He’s literally bringing her along. You should have at least told him I would be here so you know…he doesn’t have a heart attack or something.”

The two of you took the idea of privacy too seriously. A little too serious, because now six months had passed and most of your friends didn’t even know you were together. And really, the two of you were very close to getting found out since you had an awards show to attend at the end of the month.

If Eren was any bit as hopeless as the neighbors mentioned, they would have the two of you figured out within a split second.

Levi and Hange knew, naturally. And then Colt and Falco, and by extension Gabi, since Falco seemingly could keep secrets, just not from her. And it extended out slowly – your parents, his and Zeke, Lana and Sukuna, and Jean and Mikasa.

Lana and Sukuna was an accident. Because Eren had been calling Teddy and you accidentally walked in the background. Jean and Mikasa were similar and only because you accidentally let his name slip from your mouth when you called them after their honeymoon.

The secret was well kept, but you knew the news was about to spread around to everyone, because Connie was about to find out, when he realized that you were living here with Eren during his little visit.

“Well, it serves him right. He’s about to tell everyone we know. Because he’s going to have to tell Reiner, who will tell Annie who obviously can’t keep it from Armin and it’s just going to snowball from there.” Eren mutters.

You shake your head at him, as the two of you pad out to the front where Eren’s left the plates of eggs steaming. You shuffle into your chair – making it a point to slam your notebook shut – and naturally, the gesture doesn’t get past Eren.

“What are you writing?” Eren asks.

“Nothing.”

Eren grins.

“Are you writing a song about me?” Eren jokes.

You roll your eyes. And Eren’s too quick with it – guising it by putting his arm around your waist – but he all but snatches the book from underneath your elbow. And he looks to you for confirmation before he starts flipping to the page he was looking for you can see the recognition clock on his face, before he looks over at you.

“Saturn, hm?”

You take the book back from him, running your fingers over the inked lines and the tiny drawing in the corner.

If karma's really real How am I still here? Just seems so unfair I could be wrong though If there's a point to being good Then where's my reward? The good die young and poor I gave it all I could

Stuck in this terradome All I see is terrible Making us hysterical There's got to be more, got to be more Sick of this head of mine Intrusive thoughts, they paralyze Nirvana's not as advertised There's got to be more, been here before

Ooh (ooh, ooh) Life's better on Saturn Got to break this pattern Of floating away Ooh (ooh, ooh) Find something worth saving It's all for the taking I always say

I'll be better on Saturn None of this matters Dreaming of Saturn, oh

It plagues Eren, in the smallest of ways. It was almost like he could tell that on certain days, the reality of it all seemed to wear you down, to the point where you really didn’t say too much and spent far too much time by yourself outside. He figured this is the closest he would get to really understanding what it was like for you, in the two years that you spent by yourself.

And it does really bother him, that this is the only thing he can’t help you with. Because having six months of the still, quiet life gave you time to think, to really process everything that had happened.

And it was chilling. Because it would almost be easier, if this wasn’t the only thing plaguing your mind. But he had asked you time and time again and the answer was always the same – that you didn’t have any regrets, about how the two of you came back together, the relationships that you repaired, or even the havoc you wrecked at the award shows. That really, they were all means to an end.

But there was one regret you did have, and maybe in the cruelest of ways, it was the one you couldn’t put to rest in this lifetime – which was taking Marco for granted.

The smaller things helped – the sweet stories about him in the two years you missed, the voicemail that Eren had gifted you at the funeral, and all the polaroids you pulled off the wall. But deep down, in the pit of your stomach, it was the only piece of it all that you hadn’t been able to rectify yet.

“Yeah, Saturn.” you respond.

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” Eren asks.

You wrote songs about Marco often. And Eren read all of them, helping you work through piecing together the composition. But one of the songs – one you called Bigger Than The Whole Sky – seemed to concern Eren so much that he left a tiny little card on your pillow that night.

With the number to his therapist.

Eren doesn’t say much, only because he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears, and that sometimes with you – sometimes his hands in yours are the only thing that he can offer. And the quiet offer of the therapist he gave was more of a think piece for you – hoping that you’d at least give it a chance someday.

But the resolve of it all is quickly shattered when the doorbell rings – with Connie and his girlfriend behind the door.

Eren sighs.

“Are you ready for everyone to know our secret?” Eren asks.

“No. And yes. I’m kind of just excited to watch him kind of have a meltdown.”

Eren grins.

“You and me both. I’ll go get him.”

You pad into the kitchen, reaching for two empty dishes and plating the extra eggs for them as you hear Connie hollering at the door, and relish in the little wave of excitement that rises in your stomach.

“Okay, well. I made breakfast so just kind of help yourselves. Do you need the bathroom?” Eren asks.

“We’re good.” Connie responds

Eren gives you a bright and glimmering two dimpled smile as he stops in the kitchen, before looking over at Connie who now looks like he’s some mix of constipated and fraught.

“I made you guys some plates. I do hope you still like eggs, Connie, because we haven’t had a chance to do groceries lately.” you respond.

Connie’s eye twitches as you give him a bright smile before walking closer and opening up your arms. And he’s almost too confused – because he barely hugs you back before turning to Eren.

“What’s she doing here?” Connie asks.

Eren smiles.

“You’re not the only one with a secret girlfriend, Connie. Two can play that game.” Eren responds, as he takes the plates and gestures for Connie’s girlfriend to follow him to the main table.

Connie pauses, before looking over at you.

“You guys are pranking me, right? Because I didn’t tell you? Because that’s in no way funny.” Connie asks.

You point to the polaroids pinned on the fridge – a mix of old and new – before turning back to him.

“While we do love to mess with you, even we wouldn’t be that committed to a bit like this. Now come eat, you’ve had a long flight.” you respond.

Contrary to your wishes, Connie, in fact, does not eat. He spends the first ten minutes staring the two of you down – to the point where it’s almost creepy – before asking you an insane amount of questions.

When did you start dating?

Or better yet, when are you getting married?

How does it feel to be a traitor?

And it’s only after an insane amount of questioning, before he slumps back down into his chair, before offering the two of you a sweet smile.

“You’re really dating, right?” Connie asks.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“That’s the tenth fucking time you’ve asked me that. I’m starting to think that it’s insulting – is it really that shocking to you that a pretty girl would date me?” Eren asks.

Connie rolls his eyes right back.

“Yeah, when that pretty girl spends her time being just as clueless as you.” Connie responds.

You avert your gaze to your left, where Connie’s girlfriend – Maryam – is sitting and give her a smile. It’s one that she returns right back, before whispering underneath Connie and Eren’s bickering.

“You’ll have to forgive him. This is a really big deal to him.” she mumbles.

“Don’t worry, I’m well aware. He’s spent half of his young life trying to play cupid, I would only assume that it’s overwhelming to finally see your dreams come true.”

She gives you a smile, as you elbow Eren in the side, and signal for him to stop.

“Speaking of cupid, how did you and Connie meet?” you ask.

It’s horribly bad timing – because the big sip of water she took goes immediately back in the glass as she gives Connie a weary glare. And he gives her a bright grin, before turning back to you.

“See, it’s kind of funny. She –”

“Connie!” she whispers.

“What? You’re going to have to tell them eventually.” Connie responds.

“Yeah, but I just met them. This is the kind of stuff you tell people years later, as in "haha want to know something crazy?” not like…two seconds after you meet them.” she whispers back.

You and Eren turn to each other, giving each other a look, before turning back to Connie.

“They won’t care, I promise.” Connie responds.

She gives him a weary look, before turning back to the two of you with wide, doe eyes.

“Listen. I swear to god, I’m not a stalker. Y/N, I didn’t even know you were going to be here…and…and I didn’t even know I was like…talking to Connie before I was talking to Connie.”

Eren interrupts her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She sighs, before lifting her palms and burying her eyes in the heels of her hand and Connie, for some unknown reason, seems to be enjoying himself a little too much. She gives you both one last look, before dropping her hands.

“I met Connie on stan twitter.”

“What?” you ask.

“Well, he was one of my mutuals. And I…I always talk to my mutuals and we used to text all the time. And then I started really liking him and…and we made a deal to kind of meet up when he was in New York. And then I showed up and he was just fucking standing there. I knew for years that Connie was on stan twitter since he always used to accidentally send his burner tweets to his main but…I didn’t think I was talking to fucking Connie.”

You and Eren bite down on your cheeks, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Connie, I think you’ve finally met your match. This is kind of perfect.” you respond.

“I know, right?” Connie responds, giving you a bright smile back.

“You didn’t like…think he was punking you?” Eren asks.

“Oh, I totally thought he was punking me. It was only until he mentioned all the things that we had talked about, over the years mind you, that I actually realized it was him I was talking to all this time. And it started to make more sense, because he always seemed to know more about things that were happening than what was kind of shown on the surface.” Maryam replies.

You shake your head.

“So who did you run a fan account for? Was it Connie?” you ask.

She pinches her face.

“Right. Well, I…I actually ran a fan account for you. Both of you. You’ve actually both interacted with me on Twitter…multiple times.”

You slam your fist down on the table.

“Oh my fucking god. You’re THE fan account girl. Your username is y/n jaeger and you…you have that green profile picture?” you ask.

“Holy shit. We’ve like literally talked about you multiple times.” Eren adds.

Connie takes his free arm and slings it around her shoulder, before flinging it around her shoulder.

“Told you, they literally don’t care.”

“I swear though, I’m really not a stalker.” she adds again, almost like she’s entirely embarrassed.

You and Eren shake your heads.

“Well, you didn’t even know I was going to be here.” you respond.

“And you didn’t even know that the person you were talking to on Twitter was Connie.” Eren adds.

“And for what it’s worth, if I remember right, you’ve been one of the people who’s been defending us since the start – especially when it wasn’t a very popular thing to do. Which is something we’re really grateful for. And well…I’m happy if Connie’s happy, which he very clearly is.”

Connie gives her a smile, one that she returns, before turning back to you guys.

“I know it’s kind of silly, but I just really liked you guys. I was really into fashion when I was a kid and I really liked your stylists. And then I watched your show and listened to your music – and I just really loved it. Classes and medical school and all that would get really stressful, but it was fun to talk about the little hints that you seemed to leave in your music and the beautiful documentary you made.”

You and Eren turn to each other and smile.

“We appreciate that, really. And well…this kind of worked out perfectly, because we might need your help in a few months.” you respond.

“With?” she asks.

Eren sighs.

“We kind of want to keep the public off of our tails for some time. While we’re fine with telling our friends now –”

“You better be fine with it because I already told Reiner and Sasha.” Connie adds.

Eren gives him a glare before turning back to Maryam.

“I know you have a lot of followers and if…if you made it seem like…”

“Like you guys weren’t dating, other people would believe it.” she finishes.

“Yeah. We’ve just spent so much of our relationship out in the open, we…we kind of want to share it with everyone when we’re ready.” you add.

She smiles.

“I’ll do what I can.”

Connie helps you make dinner on the last day of his visit – only as a gesture to thank the two of you for your hospitality and for finally getting back together. It gives Eren time to show Maryam the final scripts of Attack on Titan that he has saved, delighting her by sharing all the scenes that got cut or edited in the final season.

“Can I ask you a question?” Connie asks.

“Sure.”

“Are you happy?”

You smile.

“Very happy, Connie. Really.”

Connie gives you a smile, before leaning forward.

“But?” he asks.

“No buts. I am really happy.”

“I don’t doubt that, but…surely there must be other things you’ve been thinking about. I feel like there’s something else kind of lingering in your…aura.”

“Don’t talk to me about auras, Connie.”

“You’ve got a weird and off putting vibe every time I interact with you on your own, princess.”

You sigh.

“Did you talk to Eren?” you ask.

“No. I can just tell. So there is something that’s bothering you?”

You pause, abandoning the spoon in the pot, as you look down at the mix of noodles. It’s a pink sauce – one that Connie swears by – that included a decent amount of the leftover vodka that you and Eren had gifted to you by the neighbors. You made a passing joke that Jean and Mikasa would love this dish and it made Connie laugh so hard he nearly burned his own hand off.

And you’re not sure where it comes from but before you know it, there’s hot tears pouring out of your eyes and Connie’s warm arms around you. And it’s a quiet whisper that you’re able to muster out in response.

“Yeah. There’s something bothering me.” you respond.

“Well, no shit, princess. You’re getting snot all over my shirt. What is it?”

You fight the urge to laugh at the sarcasm before pulling back and looking up at him.

“Marco.”

Connie sighs, before giving you a nod.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Connie responds.

You pause.

“I just…feel like something’s wrong with me. Everyone else seemed to have moved forward from it or…or seem like they’re handling it better than me.”

“I think there’s different circumstances. What you have to move on from is entirely different from what the rest of them do.” Connie offers.

You heave another sigh, using the back of your hand to wipe the wetness away.

“What do you mean?”

“What you went through was entirely different than what someone like…Sukuna struggles with or Eren for that matter. They’ve had their fair share of struggles, but yours is just different than theirs. That means you can’t compare the two. They talked to them right until the end. And because of your circumstances, you didn’t. It must be hard not to blame yourself for it.”

Connie pauses.

“When I was struggling after rehab, being…being around things like that again, at afterparties and stuff…I found it really hard to even keep my head level in situations like that. It was so overstimulating…so overwhelming, that I found myself locking myself in my house alone with her for a week.”

“You sound like me.” you respond.

“That’s exactly the point. Sometimes things are so overwhelming that you can’t do anything but that. Locking yourself in the house till you have a bearing on it. And people like Sukuna and Eren, I…I almost envy them sometimes. They find a way to keep moving forward when all I can find myself doing is standing in one place and staring at myself from the outside in.”

“Eren’s really hopeful. And I know deep down that he is right. That Marco wasn’t mad at me, not in the slightest. But…I can’t help but be mad at myself. I feel like sometimes I’m reliving the entire thing over again.” you respond.

Connie smiles.

“You sound like me.” Connie murmurs.

“You seem fine, though. For the most part.” you add.

Connie reaches forward, cupping the side of your face.

“I’m lucky enough that the people I’ve wanted to make amends with are still here. But even then, that wasn’t enough, not for the blame. Sometimes…you need a little extra help. And really Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Connie’s ears seem to ring in your ears as you watch him and Maryam drive away. And even more so when you and Eren settle in for bed that night and he reaches over to shut the light switch.

You reach for Eren’s hand, locking your fingers in with his in the sheets, before squeezing three times, a gesture that he returns.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Do…do you still have that card that you gave me? A few weeks ago?”

Eren leans closer to you and you take the invitation to crawl into his open arms.

“Of course I do. Did you want to use it, sweetheart?” he whispers.

The warm tears return and Eren’s quick to wipe them away.

“Yeah, I think so.”

At the end of the month, Connie’s beloved girlfriend helps devise the best plan known to man. Which involved a little bit of acting, lying, and theatrics – something you and Eren were no strangers to.

It was fairly obvious, after everything that had happened, it would be hard to make people believe that you and Eren hadn’t ended up together. And she figured it would only work if you admitted to the fact that you were dating other people and really sold it in your last press tour and awards campaign that you were soulmates – but in the platonic type of way.

It’s why you spent three weeks in the press talking about your new beloved boyfriend, Bruce, who was just a normal guy that you met at your recording studio. Coupled with the newest song you released – so american, something Eren most definitely wouldn’t call you – people were quick to switch the breaks and think otherwise.

Eren was doing the same, fawning in any and every interview, about his sweet new girlfriend Margaret, one of the assistant costume designers that he met on the set of Attack on Titan. About how she was the sweet love of his life, who had shown up right when he needed her.

It wasn’t an entire lie.

Besides the fact that it really is so fun to pretend in plain sight, the awards show was the first time that the group of you got to be together again. You were seated right next to Lana and Sukuna – the former of which is exuding the sweetest glow from her baby girl that’s due any week now and the latter who has a set of choice words for you when you take your seats together.

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just fucking tell people?” Sukuna mutters.

You smile.

“Simple. We don’t want to.” you respond.

“Yeah, but your boy toy is about to win the award of his dreams, again, and you’re about to be ten feet away getting cock blocked by lesbians.”

You smile. Eren, in all of his brilliance, was nominated for the Best Actor in a TV Show, yet again. And truly, it was no competition – you were all positive that he was going to win, something that he wasn’t so keen about himself.

“We can hear you.” Ymir mutters.

“We can switch seats if you want Y/N, for that part. If you want to sit next to Eren.” Sofia adds.

You give her a smile, before sinking back into your chair and looping your arm through Ymir’s – who was going to be accompanying you as the opener on the Birds of a Feather tour, with her lovely Sofia, who she married last weekend.

“Where are Jean and Mikasa? I have an itch to get blackout drunk right now.” Ymir mutters.

“No point in trying.. They’re already back there and borderline blackout drunk with empty flasks already..” you respond.

“Figures.”

“They pressed some really wet kisses to my cheek earlier. If I didn’t love them, I would find it absolutely disgusting.” you add.

You give Ymir and Sukuna a light nudge at your sides, before standing up to the group of people walking up to you.

“Oikawa, right? From Haikyuu?” you ask.

He towers over you, looking down at you as he offers you a smile.

“That’s right. We’ve replied to each other a lot on Twitter.” he responds.

“Right. It’s nice to meet you in person, again. I feel like we’ve probably walked past each other a bunch of times, but…it’s nice to talk.”

He smiles.

“Listen, I was planning on telling you this last weekend, but I’m planning on bringing my girlfriend to your opening show next weekend. She’s a really big fan…and she’d love to meet you.”

You place a hand on his bicep, and really, only because you can’t reach his shoulder.

“Of course. I’ll get you a seat in the VIP tent with everyone else coming, okay?”

“What was last weekend?” Sukuna asks.

Oikawa turns to his left, giving an entirely unassuming smile.

“Hm?”

“You said you were going to ask her last weekend.” Sukuna clarifies.

“Oh! Right, I just figured you’d be at Historia’s wedding that’s all. But she told me, it really is a shame that you were all too busy.”

You’re dumbfounded as he gives you all one last smile, before walking away. And Eren and Connie are quick to join you at your sides, Eren’s hand ghosting across yours at his side.

“What did that tool want?” Eren asks.

“Did Historia tell you that?” Sukua asks, to which you shake your head.

“Was he hitting on you? I’ve seen him on Twitter, don’t even get me started.” Eren mutters.

Sukuna rolls his eyes.

“Dude, this is so not the time to be getting your panties in a twist.” Sukuna responds.

“What did he say?” Connie asks, nudging you in the side.

“Historia got married. Last weekend.” Ymir states, an almost gravelly tone to her voice.

Connie and Eren give you a weary look, before turning back to her.

“She didn’t invite any of you and told all the guests that you guys were all too busy to come. Too busy to come because you were at my wedding, with the date I've had set for months now.”

Sofia stands at Ymir’s side, looping her arm in with Ymir’s as she offers a small smile. And it gets worse – because the horribly timed news made you all forget that Historia was the opener for the show that you wer eall sitting at.

You can’t help but admit it, but the willowing white dress that she wears is beautiful. But there’s a part of it that haunts you, almost like she’s a ghost instead of a bride, as she takes the center of the stage with a pink guitar and a glimmering ring on her finger.

“My name’s Historia Reiss. This is my newest song, everyone – it’s called Lover.”

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Oh, you're my, my, my, my Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover

You watch as Ymir sinks into her seat, securing her own hand in Sofia’s, as you look over at Eren. And in the few seconds that you have between the commercial break, before you have to head backstage to announce the award, you lean forward and place your chin on her shoulder.

“Are you okay, Ymir?” you ask, shooting Sofia a pinched smile over the way.

“She’s fucking insane.” Ymir mutters.

You’re taken off guard by the hostility. Only because in every rehearsal that you’ve shared with Ymir, she’s all but remorseful for how things ended with them – and even moreso, was looking forward to being friends again.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“She’s trying to piss me off. I’ve heard that fucking song – it’s one she wrote about me when we were still filming season three.”

You wince, sharing a look with Eren, before turning back to her and squeezing one of her shoulders.

“I don’t know what her problem is. If she’s trying to make me feel…regret over what I did last weekend, that’s far from it. I have no regrets about the people or the person I’ve chosen for myself. She can sing herself sick about it if she wants to.” Ymir finishes.

“Good for you.” Connie states.

“Huh?” Ymir asks.

“Good for you. Really. You know what you want and you’ve had it by your side this entire time. If she wants to be bitter about it, she can go right ahead. That won't stop you from having that by your side or make her feel any better – and I’m sure she’ll realize that eventually.” Connie finishes.

You give Connie a smile, before gesturing to take your open seat as the ushers arrive to take you backstage. And you’re met with the sight of Hange and Levi – with a glimmering golden trophy and an envelope in their hands.

“He won, didn’t he?” you ask.

“We don’t know.”

“Do you think they’d like kill me if I opened it?” you ask, as Levi places the glittering envelope in your hands.

Hange smiles.

“In all seriousness kid, I think they’re kind of anticipating you will. WIth you as the announcer and us handing over the trophy, it’s fairly obvious they’re expecting something great.” Hange responds.

You give the two of them a smile as you turn over the envelope, breaking through the latch of the sticker, and pulling the little cardstock slip out. And surely enough, it’s in bright, bold letters.

Best Lead Actor in a TV Show - Eren Jaeger, Attack on Titan: The Final Season

You look up at them and smile, trying to contain that scratchy feeling in the back of your throat.

“He did it.” you whisper.

They both give you bright smiles as they link in their arms with yours, the three of you waiting for your cue at the side of the curtains. And on their mark, the three of you walk out into the bright lights, as you scan the crowd for where Eren’s sitting – noting the bright smile on his face and the wink he offers you.

“I think the fact that I’m standing here, with Hange and Levi at my sides, is proof that one of the best actors of our generation has won one of the most special awards here tonight.”

And you watch as Jean and Connie’s eyes go wide, as they reach forward and secure their hands on Eren’s shoulders, jostling him as he brings his hands up to his cheeks – in utter disbelief.

“While he’s winning an award for acting tonight, I truly do think that the recipient is a jack of all trades. Because he’s been so involved in this beautiful show – from picking the co-star in his first chemistry screen reading, to bringing life to the pages, and at the end, actually writing them. It’s been a joy to watch him in his element for the last ten years and really, to share such a big part of my life with someone who is so special.”

You look down at the envelope, pulling out the slip again.

“The award for Best Actor in a TV show goes to Eren Jaeger, Attack on Titan: The Final Season.”

It’s an obscene amount of hollering – mostly from Reiner, Connie, and Jean – as you watch Eren hug Gabi and Falco before pressing a kiss to Lana’s cheek and making his way to the stage. And it’s almost too sweet – getting to watch the lingering hugs that Hange and Levi give Eren, before he turns to you to give a polite hug.

You take the few seconds you have to say your piece.

“Hey. Guess what?” you whisper.

“What?”

“I told you so. All those years ago.” you respond.

Eren presses a kiss to your cheek, before the three of you all shuffle off to the side, and watch Eren from a few feet away. And you watch as he runs his hand nervously through his hair, before looking down at the award.

“I promise I’ll make a speech this time.” Eren starts.

You all laugh, as he looks over at you, before turning back to the crowd.

“I…I truly have no words for what this show has meant to me and what it has brought me. Almost ten years ago, two writers turned screenwriters, for whatever god awful reason, saw a film in which I had all but ten minutes of screentime before I got killed off. And for some reason, it spoke to them – so much so that they decided to make me the lead of their show. It seems strange at first, but they’re the first people I find myself being the most thankful for, because they’re the only reason that anything after came. I’ve made…”

Eren’s voice cracks and you swallow hard.

“I’ve made lifelong relationships and…and a real family. I’ve had the privilege of meeting my partner in crime, Connie, the sweetest friends I’ve ever had, Jean and Mikasa, and maybe one of the only people who understands me best, Armin. I’ve met maybe one of the most important people in my life, Y/N L/N, who gives definition to being the best friend and partner everyday, and most of all, I’ve met the love of my life, my sweet Margaret. There are no words for how thankful I am, really. Thank you so much.”

There’s a resounding sound of cheers as Eren links his arm in with yours and the four of you clump together backstage. And in the few seconds of quiet you have, you reach forward and cup the side of his face before pressing another kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so happy for you, Eren. You dream came true – the right way this time.”

Eren smiles, before linking one of his hands in with yours.

“You next.” Eren states.

You scoff.

“Leave it to you to make your award about me. Just be happy.” you respond.

“I am happy. But really, you’re next.” Eren states.

“You can’t become triple threats twice, Eren.”

“You know, I’ve happened to write very convincing letters in the past. To have them accept demos from me on behalf of you, to consider you for awards for years on end. I think I’ll try my luck on that one and see where it gets me, sweetheart.”

The following week, Eren’s standing by your side backstage with Sofia on the other side, in the mere minutes before you perform. If your timing was correct, Ymir was halfway into her set and seriously killing it, meaning that you were going to follow in under an hour.

Gabi and Falco are the first ones to greet you backstage – and the first guests on the Birds of a Feather tour.

When you think back to the past, all the memories of touring are the worst. Because the only thing you can remember is your legs shaking from the exhaustion, your ears deaf from the screaming, and your chest hurting from the pain – before you were dragged onto stage another time by Danny and Sareen and forced to do it again.

It’s why you kept the tour relatively short by your standards, with thirty-six shows, and your friends by your side.

If they wrote the songs with you, they could perform them with you too. And while Glue Song was technically Gabi’s request, Falco’s the feature – so it was only fair to let both of them sing it with you on the first day.

And you watch from far as Eren stands behind both of their little vanities, hearing the ends of their conversation – as Eren reassures both of them before taking pictures of the two of them together. And it’s almost like he can see you watching him, because he turns to look over his shoulder, before offering you a smile and walking over.

“Not that people know, but you and I are kind of the first ladies of the Birds of a Feather tour.” Sofia states.

“What do you mean?” Eren asks.

“My wife is the opener. Your girlfriend is the main set. We’re the first ladies.” Sofia states.

Eren snorts as he reaches for the back of your hair, readjusting it against your bodysuit, before giving you a smile.

“Ready?”

“I think so.”

Sofia gives the two of you a sweet smile, as she loops her arm in with yours and leans her head against your shoulder. And three songs in, you feel her tense you at your side.

“Oh god. Here it comes.” Sofia murmurs.

“Here what comes?” you ask.

She turns her head to the side, confused.

“She didn’t tell you? She added a new song to the setlist, it’s…about Historia.” Sofia responds.

“Does she know that Historia’s actually here in the tent? With her husband?”

Marcus, Historia’s newly wedded husband, was nice. It’s really the only word that you could use to describe him, because honestly, it didn’t seem like there was much else going on besides that. He mentioned a plethora of niceties when you met him hours prior – that he had missed you at the wedding, that he had memorized all the songs before the show started so he could fully enjoy it – and that was it.

You could tell that he didn’t have the faintest idea about Historia and Ymir, or Historia at all.

But he was kind. And he wouldn’t hurt Historia and you supposed that was all that mattered.

“That’s kind of the point, Y/N.” Sofia mumbles.

The three of you inch closer to the edge of the stage, just out of view of the curtains, as you watch Ymir’s visuals change – bright graphic letters spelling out Good Luck, Babe!

It's fine, it's cool You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth And guess I'm the fool With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

I don't wanna call it off But you don't wanna call it love You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

You look over at Eren, who is crushing your hand to oblivion at your left, before turning back to Sofia.

“Jesus Christ.” Eren whispers.

“I can’t even blame her. Historia came for blood last weekend.”

“That’s not even half of it. It gets worse.”

You and Eren widen your eyes, before leaning forward and paying attention again. And it’s insane, because Ymir’s crouching on the ground – before she fully lies down and starts belting into the microphone.

When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so" You know I hate to say, "I told you so" You know I hate to say, but, I told you so

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling (well, I told you so) You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

a year and a half later

After almost two years of being married, Jean and Mikasa welcome a baby girl, named Olivia, in October. And on her fourth week of life, they invite all of you over to meet her in Seattle.

You’d be lying if it didn’t fill you with dread.

“Why are you freaking out?” Eren asks, reaching down to adjust the charms of your necklace, the Saturn charm now accompanied by an ocean wave, against your collarbone, before looking back up at you.

“Babies don’t really like me.” you state.

“You know, they can kind of sense when you’re all…tense and stuff. Just relax when they ask you to hold her.”

You groan.

“Jean and Mikasa can keep their empath baby to themselves. What do you mean it can sense if I’m stressed?”

“You’ll drop her if you’re being too stiff. Just cradle her head against you.” Eren responds.

“That’s exactly why I can’t hold her!”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“She’s basically like your niece. You’ll have to hold her eventually.” Eren deadpans.

“Maybe when she’s older. Fully conscious and talking and stuff, you know. Like Teddy.”

Eren sighs, almost acutely aware of how hopeless you were when it came to this, from the way you acted with Lily. Except Sukuna was far less faith in you than Jean and Mikasa and agreed with you every time you refused to hold her out of fear.

Eren locks his hand in with yours as he drags you to the porch, only to be met with Zeke and Carla answering the door.

“You’re finally here!”

Eren’s mom pulls you forward, nearly side sweeping Eren and trapping you in a crushing hug as you give Zeke a pained look at your side, to which the two of them only laugh in response. And when Carla lets go, she brings her hands down to your wrists, before squeezing.

“You’re a vision in yellow! This dress is beautiful, Y/N.”

“Mom. You’re laying it on a little thick there.” Eren mumbles, placing his hands on her shoulders before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Shut up, Eren. This is the closest I’ve gotten to having a daughter.” Carla states.

You look over at Eren – entirely aware of how much his parents, or more specifically Carla had been, about how he needed to propose soon. But Eren rolls his eyes as he walks off, greeting Lana and Teddy in the kitchen as you turn back to her and wrap one of your free arms around her.

“Did you see Olivia yet?” you ask.

“She’s beautiful. Oh, she looks just like Jean.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” you respond.

“I heard that, twerp.”

You look over to find the source of the voice – a very tired Jean, with a stubble and a well grown out mullet – glaring at you. But the second you look at him properly, he gives you a smile as you run forward, wrapping your arms around him as he returns the gesture.

“Hi, Mr. Dad.”

“That’s the best you could come up with? Mr. Dad?”

“Saying just Dad is weird. But I had to acknowledge the fact that you…have a whole child just out here and breathing and stuff.”

“Wow. You really have such a way with words.” Jean states, as the two of you trail down to the kitchen, where Eren and Jean do their weird handshake.

You feel a tugging at your legs, before you pick up Teddy who leans his head against yours.

“You get bigger everytime I see you, kid.

“I’m a growing boy.” Teddy shrugs, as you turn to Lana and laugh.

“He’s getting every bit of sass from Sukuna.” Lana states.

“I can tell.” you respond, before turning back to him.

Sukuna presses a kiss to your cheek as a greeting, before Connie and Reiner join the group as well and do the same.

“How are you today, Teddy? Did you see baby Olivia yet?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You smile as you turn over to Eren, who leans against the counter and watches the two of you from a few feet away. He fights the urge to take a picture – only because Sukuna would tease him into oblivion – and makes a mental note to ask for one like it later, of Teddy snuggled in your arms and resting his head against your cheek.

“Did you like her?” you ask.

“She’s cute. For a baby.”

“You wanna tell Y/N what you told me, Theo?” Sukuna asks.

Teddy sits up, turning to Sukuan with confusion.

“Tell her what, Dad?”

“About what you did when you saw Olivia.” Sukuna clarifies.

He turns back to you, a smile on his face.

“I held baby Olivia all on my own.”

You turn back to Sukuna and Eren, the two of them laughing with irritating smiles on their faces as you stick their tongues out at them.

“Oh, be quiet.” you murmur.

“If my literal child can carry that baby, so can you.” Sukuna states.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, before taking Teddy from your arms.

“I’m gonna grab a drink.” Sukuna states.

“I’ll come with.” you respond.

The two of you walk quietly out to the little backyard, as you fill three glasses of lemonade and hold one out to each of them.

“So do you just not want kids in the future?”

“What? Of course, I do.” you respond.

Sukuna snickers.

“Are you not going to hold your own child?”

You roll your eyes.

“Pump the brakes, Sukuna. Eren and I aren’t even married yet.”

“Speaking of. Are you two ever going to tie the knot?”

You shrug.

“We’ve talked about it before. It’s definitely in the cards but I told him that he should wait until he feels ready. And things are really nice now, the way they are. I figure he’s just soaking in it all.” you state.

“Would you say yes if he proposed?” Sukuna asks.

“Are you crazy?”

“I mean…you’re saying that you told Eren to wait until he was ready. There’s no doubt you will of course, but are you ready for that?”

You nurse the little glass of lemonade close to your chest, before looking up at him and smiling.

“I’ve been waiting to marry him since I was like sixteen. Of course I’m ready.”

Sukuna gives you a smile, before gesturing for you to follow him back inside where Eren’s waiting for you patiently. And you can tell by the excited smile on his face and the way that he grabs your waist exactly where he’s leading you next.

“You should be excited. This is literally both of our best friends, in one person.”

“I am excited. I just want her to like us, that’s all.”

When you enter the room, it’s quiet – with Levi, Jean, and Mikasa’s mom by the crib and Mikasa sitting in the bed, rearranging the little toys.

You and Eren beeline in different directions, with him heading straight for the baby and you heading straight towards Mikasa’s side. And you can’t help but do it – reach forward and cup her cheeks before hugging her full on.

“Mikasa, you look so cute.” you mumble, as she nearly crushes you with her death grasp of a hug.

Mikasa pulls back, rolling her eyes, as she eyes your dress.

“Are you saying I look different after Olivia?”

You roll your eyes.

“You’re all full in the face. With rosy pink cheeks. It’s adorable.” you whisper.

“Well, you’re quite adorable too. This is a beautiful dress – I’m going to side sweep Eren and propose first if he doesn’t get around to it.”

“I heard that, Mikasa.” Eren deadpans, from his far corner of the room.

“That was the point, goofy.”

Eren frowns as he walks over to her side, offering her a hug before sitting down with the two of you.

“Goofy is the best you’ve got?” Eren asks.

“There’s a baby in the room. I can’t exactly call you an asshole now, can I?” Mikasa whispers.

You both giggle, only to be stopped by the glare that Levi gives the three of you, as you clear your throats.

“She’s perfect, Mikasa. She’s got your eyes.” Eren states.

“Oh thank god. Carla gave me a heart attack downstairs when she told me the baby looked like Jean.”

It’s only then that Jean walks over, with the tiniest bundle of little pink blankets in his hand, that the three of you stand up. And you take the natural position, standing slight behind Eren as he looks up at Jean, eyes wide.

“Can I hold her?”

“Dude, go ahead.”

You and Mikasa share a look, irritated by their nonchalance, as you watch Jean carefully transfer Olivia over to Eren’s arms. She’s quick with it – securing all five of her tiny fingers around one of Eren’s fingers as he laughs, looking over at you.

And Eren’s quick to notice that despite all your self-proclaimed fears about holding babies and giving birth, you have the same curious look in your eyes that you had when you met Lily.

“Olivia, my name’s Eren and this is Y/N. Your parents are basically the coolest people we know.” Eren whispers, almost like he’s not trying to disturb the quiet peace in the room.

“Well, not your dad. He could use a little help in that department.” you respond.

“Stop badmouthing me in front of my child.” Jean responds, reaching forward to flick you on the forehead.

But it’s right at that second that Olivia lets out the quietest little coo, before readjusting in her little blankets. And it’s enough to make the group of you laugh, teary eyed smiles from you and Eren, as Jean walks over to Levi and hands him the camera to take a picture of the five of you, together for the first time.

And in the thirty minutes that Eren spends holding Olivia and whispering with Mikasa, it’s the free second that you take to talk to Levi.

“Look at you. Trying to butter up Mikasa’s mom.”

Levi glares.

“She’s my sister.”

“Right. I kind of forgot about that.”

Levi rolls his eyes, as the two of you look out of the window, at the group of them all chattering downstairs. You can’t help but smile at Teddy and Lily sitting at the table, who are showing a very interested Ymir and Connie all of the drawings that they’ve allegedly done together.

It was mostly Teddy of course, but he just liked to include Lily in everything he does. Which is something you’re told that Sukuna and Yuuji do together all the time – and it makes your heart warm all the same.

“Is there a reason you never had kids, Levi?” you ask.

Levi smiles.

“Hange can’t have kids.” Levi states.

You feel your throat dry the slightest, as you look over to the left, where Hange and Sofia are playing a very intense game of chess.

“I didn’t know that. I always figured that you two weren’t…”

“A lot of people did. And I suppose that made it easier, because it really did break our hearts that we didn’t get to have any.”

You smile, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“If it makes you feel better, I know that myself and fifteen of my peers have always seen you as a father figure.”

Levi smiles.

“It does actually. Only because my self-proclaimed children are all so talented that I have so much to brag about.”

You press a kiss to Levi’s cheek as Eren beckons for you to join him downstairs, now that Olivia’s fallen asleep. And you all but oblige, trying to memorize the sickeningly sweet kiss that he gives you on the way down.

“Do you ever think we’re going to have kids?” Eren asks.

“Eren. You’re basically like born to be a dad.” you whisper.

“What?”

“Every kid we’ve ever met loves you. Of course, we’re going to have kids. I’ve even taken the liberty of naming them already.”

Eren gives you a confused look, before knocking on your forehead.

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

“Hilarious.” you deadpan.

“No seriously. I’m shocked Mrs. Scared of Pregnancy because of Reddit threads from when you were thirteen is saying this to me right now.”

You roll your eyes, trying to make your way down the stairs, before he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your cheek as a consolation.

“Okay, I’m joking. But tell me the names.”

“No. You’re being rude.”

“Come on. They’re going to be my children too. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, crossing your hands over your chest, as you look up at him.

“If it’s a boy, we’re going to name him Marco.”

Eren smiles, giving you an approving nod, as you twist the rings on your pointer finger.

“And if it’s a girl, we’ll name her Maya.”

“Maya?”

“Well, the plan is hopefully that we have a boy and a girl. We’ll name our kids after Marco…and his favorite poet, Maya Angelou.”

Eren leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“That’s a deal.”

Two days later, you and Eren seem to right a historical wrong, in your long winded history, in the mere hours before you attend Lana’s album listening party.

By visiting the Seattle Aquarium, the way you were supposed to all those years ago.

It was your idea when you made your weekend plan to be in Seattle. Because Eren had three extra days before he started shooting and before you headed back to New York to record with Niccolo – and it only felt right.

Despite your horrible track history of attendance, the owners of the Seattle Aquarium granted you entry on Sunday, the day they were closed, and offered you the place for the entire day. Though you suppose, it’s only because you’ve given them such gracious donations over the past years.

When you walk in, you run your fingers over the bronze plaque as Eren looks over your shoulder, admiring the lettering.

With special thanks to Bruce and Margaret, whose generous donations have benefitted our environmentalist efforts and preserved over forty-five species of fish over the past year, nearby in the Pacific Ocean.

Eren takes your hand, the two of you taking the little blankets and pillows, and setting them up right in the center of the aquarium, before you lie down against the little makeshift fort you made.

And you’re not sure what it is – the dim lights and the overwhelming blue – or the fish swimming all around you and Eren in their not so little fishbowl, but you can’t help but feel the strangest sense of nostalgia. That a few years ago, you saw Jean and Mikasa get engaged for the first time, and it pushed you so hard that you were ready to confess to him under these same lights.

“Do you ever think about what would happen if we actually ended up coming here last time?” you ask.

Eren looks over at you, pressing a stray kiss to your forehead, before messing with one of the strands of your hair.

“Sometimes. I figured we’d have to fight out of there someway, just in a different way.”

“What do you mean?”

Eren pauses.

“They’d run a slander campaign against you. They’d probably dox Falco and Colt and your parents would get in the crossfire by proxy.” Eren murmurs.

“Yeah.”

“I figured they’d probably give Connie all the big roles so he wouldn’t have any reason to leave. Everyone would know about Lana and Teddy and well…I don’t know if Sukuna would be on our side the way he necessarily ended up being.”

You lean closer to him, interlocking one of your free hands in with his.

“I don’t know if we’d stay together.”

“We’d stay together.” you murmur.

“Yeah. I do figure it would be harder though. We kind of lucked out, twice, with how isolated the set was and then the cabin.”

And Eren reaches into his pocket, wrapping one of his free hands around you as he opens up a little green box, to a glimmering diamond ring.

“I figure this would happen farther down the line if things went that route.” Eren mumbles.

You’re taken aback as you sit up in the little pile of blankets as Eren follows suit, a sweet smile on his face as he presses the little box into your hand.

“I don’t necessarily know how things would have ended up if we got to be together all those years prior. All I remember, really, is watching you drive away from me and feeling like I had just experienced the loss of my life. For a second time. It only feels right to me that we get to promise to seal the deal here, for good, like we should have all of those years ago.”

Eren takes the box from your hands, plucking the ring out of its little slot, and takes your hand in his.

“Will you marry me?”

You can’t help but lean forward, nearly knocking him back down into the pillows as you press a kiss to his lips, which he smiles into.

“I’m taking that’s a yes?”

“Oh my god, Eren. Yes, obviously.”

Eren sits up again, this time carefully securing the ring around your finger, before lifting your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles.

“Did you tell anyone you were doing this?”

Eren shrugs.

“I asked for your parents and Falco and Colt’s blessing. Then I remembered that Levi exists and asked him for good measure too. And Lana, of course, just because I can’t keep anything from her.”

You smile.

“Was there someone else I was supposed to tell?”

You pinch your lips into a line.

“No.”

“Oh my god, there totally was. Who did I forget?”

You fight the urge to laugh as he reaches forward, tickling at your sides as you shove him off.

“No one, Eren. I love the ring.”

Eren twists his face in confusion, before leaning forward.

“Who said anything about the ring?”

You pinch your eyes shut, before reaching forward and placing your hands on his cheeks.

“I love the ring. And I love you, it’s really not –”

“You told someone what type of ring you wanted, didn’t you?”

You sigh, as you look down at the sparkling diamond on your finger, that really is perfect.

“It was a tiny request that I had. I should have known that you’d tell Lana and not Mikasa, in hindsight.”

Eren shakes his head.

“That’s not a big deal. I’ll just get you another one.”

“Eren.”

“Really, I was planning on getting you multiple anyway. You have to have one that has a silver band and one that has gold, because I know that you hate mixed metals. So really, you can tell me what it is that you wanted and I’ll keep it in mind.”

You sigh.

“It’s kind of cheesy.”

“I’m not lactose intolerant, Y/N. Just tell me.”

You sigh.

“I like the diamond, but I wanted it set with another stone.”

“I do like unique rings. Which one were you thinking?”

“An emerald. Because it’s green, you know?”

And you watch as Eren grins, fully understanding your request this time, as he leans forward, his lips a few feet away from yours as he whispers.

“Are you telling me you want a green emerald because my eyes are green?”

“Sue me, Eren!” you deadpan.

And it’s a lingering kiss that Eren presses to your cheeks, before he leans back and looks up at the fish. You follow his gaze to the two yellow fish swimming near the top, as they make their way down to the other side.

And Eren looks over at you and smiles.

“No, I don’t think so. I think I’ll just marry you instead.”

You’re slightly late to Lana’s listening party and the two of you sneak in towards the back door, where you greet everyone waiting for you backstage. And it’s quite obvious that Lana and Sukuna shared the news with everyone the second you arrive – because Mikasa reaches for your hand the second you walk up to her and Lana gives you a lingering hug.

“Oh thank god, I was starting to get worried.” Mikasa states.

“All the comments got to you the other day, didn’t they?” Sukuna asks.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“On the contrary, asshole. Though the comments did start to piss me off, because I was doing so well at hiding it before you all started bringing it up and making her think about it.”

There’s a little dinging overhead, signaling that Lana had to start, as the group of you all head out to the little audience – filled with about fifty of Lana’s fans who nearly start screaming the second you all walk out to listen with them.

“Hey.” Eren whispers.

“What?”

“I’ll be back, but you should keep your hair in the front.”

“What? Why?”

“I left a mark earlier.” Eren responds, squeezing at your shoulder as you glare at his retreating form.

He shoots you a wink over his shoulder, before he walks backstage and Lana walks on. And it’s sweet, the flowery dress she’s wearing and the purple guitar as she takes the stage. You feel a tap on your shoulder, to find Sukuna at your side, smiling at you.

“Congratulations, stinky. There’s not many times that I find myself believing in things like this, at least not before anyways, but you’ve proven me wrong, time and time again.”

You loop your arm in with Sukuna resting your chin against his shoulder, as you watch Lana start to tune the guitar.

“I could say the same thing about you.” you respond.

The two of you quiet down as Lana starts and Eren walks behind her, taking a seat at the piano. He shoots you a smile from his spot, starting to play the piano composition as Lana starts talking.

“I’ve written lots of songs about people in my very long career of music, now. And I’ve had many songs written about me by my friend Eren here. I figured it was only fair that I returned the favor by writing about him and his beautiful fiancee, with his help of course.”

Eren smiles as he leans closer to the microphone.

“This song is called Margaret.”

This is a simple song, gonna write it for a friend My shirt is inside out, I'm messy with the pen He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble" He had flashes of the good life He was like, "Should I jump off this building now or do it on the double?

'Cause, baby, if your love is in trouble Baby, if your love is in trouble Baby, if your love is in trouble When you know, you know When you know, you know

It kinda makes me laugh, runnin' down that path When you're good as gold 'Cause when you know, you know 'Cause when you know, you know And when you're old, you're old

Like Hollywood and me, that diamond on your ring The soul that you bring to the table One that makes me sing In a minor key Diamond on your ring 'Cause when you know, you know When you know, you know

The two of you tie the knot a year later, on a chilly December night, back in the old townhouse. It’s decorated to perfection – the walls that you originally took down are now covered again with polaroids of you and Eren, but all of your loved ones too.

True to Mikasa’s statement all of those years ago, the flower girls at your wedding are Olivia and Lily – but they can’t exactly walk yet, so it’s only fair that Reiner and Connie carry them and their little flower baskets down the aisle.

As busy as Mikasa and Jean are with the baby, they give up their spots as best man and maid of honor to the more seasoned parents, Lana and Sukuna. Though it feels entirely wrong to have Lana standing on your side and Sukuna on Eren’s, so you decide to switch the roles. Teddy’s quite possibly the best ring bearer and Levi’s the perfect person, who gives a sweet passionate speech about holding out for love, as the officiant of your wedding.

Levi, however, is full of all sorts of tricks – which is something the two of you only note when it’s time for you to do your first dance. Because instead of the piano quartet that you organized, he’s sitting on the bench next to Hange instead, tapping on the microphone to get your attention.

“I believe it’s time for the first dance.” Levi states.

Hange rolls her eyes, before taking the microphone.

“You’re so stiff, Levi.”

“You talk then.”

“No, you always tend to have a way with words.”

You look up at Eren, admiring the two little pins on the lapel of his jacket – a crescent moon and the Saturn pin – before looking back at the two of them and their antics.

“Eren and Y/N. You’ve written quite a few love songs, not only about the beautiful love that you share with each other, but the love that we all seem to have for one another as well. And really, we figured it was only fair that we all repaid the favor, by writing a song about the two of you for you to dance to.”

“And well, we know how much being surrounded by the love in the room means to you. So we’re going to invite everyone to join you on the dance floor, so you can be surrounded by it.” Hange states.

The group of them all give you sweet smiles, as you all walk out onto the little makeshift floor, as Hange and Levi start playing the piano, Levi’s quiet voice filling the backyard.

When the rain is blowing in your face And the whole world is on your case I could offer you a warm embrace To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear And there is no one there to dry your tears I could hold you for a million years To make you feel my love

You pause from looking at Eren, as you pull him closer – resting your ear against the beating sound of his heart – and catch it all again, the love in the room so warm it’s almost suffocating. Because it’s Falco still stepping on Gabi’s feet after all these years, Ymir spinning Sofia way too many times, and Jean and Mikasa dancing with Lily in their arms.

“Can you believe they wrote a song about us?” you whisper.

“I’ll fucking say. It was about time. Do you know how many weddings we’ve carried on our backs by writing songs?”

“Don’t exaggerate, Eren. It was only like three.”

“Three too many. I was expecting the damn fanfare when I walked in.”

You both laugh, before leaning forward, and looking over at Hange and Levi – soft smiles that they give each other, as they play the piano together.

I know you haven't made your mind up yet But I will never do you wrong I've known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue I'd go crawling down the avenue No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do To make you feel my love

Eren makes his SNL debut three months after the fact and you figure that there's no better time to announce the fact that you and Eren are together. A silly little skit – where your fake characters are both named Margaret and Bruce – is the perfect end to what the two of you started at the beginning of the week, when you released your songs False God and Only Angel on the same day.

But unbeknownst to Eren, you change the original plan you had – to play False God at the end of the show – and choose to play a different song at the end. Eren turns to you, giving you a last wink as the show starts rolling, and he turns to the camera.

“Once again, Y/N L/N-Jaeger.”

There’s a resounding sound of cheers as Eren takes his side next to Connie and Maryam at the front, as you start strumming on the guitar.

Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

And I fell from the pedestal Right down the rabbit hole Long story short, it was a bad time Pushed from the precipice Clung to the nearest lips Long story short, it was the wrong guy Now I'm all about you I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah

The first thing you catch sight of when you look out is Hange and Levi. And the first thing that comes to mind is that speech – watching Hange spilling tears into that microphone, watching it in your pajamas with Colt at your side and Falco fast asleep somewhere in the corner – and it makes your stomach jolt.

Actually I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

Ricky comes to mind next, but it’s only because you can see Lana and Sukuna in the third row – their heads leaned against each other as they hold hands. Because it’s not exactly the justice she exactly deserved, but years after the fact, his horrible mouth had landed him on a blacklisted list of actors – and really, he was never to be seen again. Hyla and Scott were always around, but never warranted a second thought after what you had done to them – tearing their once empire to the ground with your own bare hands and a pencil.

No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (keep you warm) No more tug of war now I just know there's more (know there's more) No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (keep you warm) And my waves meet your shore Ever and evermore

Past me I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things Your nemeses Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing And he's passing by Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky And he feels like home If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go

The raw spot of hurt that was reserved for Marco softened over the years and the over-consuming feeling it once used to give you was now open – for you to give to other parts of your life. To your friends, to your family, and to Eren.

Eren.

Now I'm all about you (and now) I'm all about you, ah (and now) I'm all about you (and now) I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah I'm all about you (and now) Yeah, yeah I'm all about you

You can’t help but smile at him, feeling your heart nearly pounding in your chest, as you look at him – smiling back at you from the front row, his hands pressed to his chest, with a silver band around his ring finger.

Long story short, it was a bad time Long story short, I survived

Hange had told you, indirectly all those years ago, to show people the real you. And as much acting as you and Eren had done - method and otherwise - you supposed there was nothing more real than the love that existed between the two of you.

Eren closes the distance and you swing your guitar to the side as he brings his hands around your cheeks and presses one last kiss to your lips before the camera cuts.

an: a very bittersweet goodbye to one of the most special fics i've ever written. i truly do not think that there are enough words that i can string together (which as ironic as someone who is a fic writer) to explain what this fic has meant to me, what your interactions have meant to me, and everything else in between.

this fic has truly been a piece of my heart - not only because i've poured so many of my real emotions into each of the characters, but also because it's brought me so much joy to share with people - and to have them nitpick and find all the little clues i've been leaving along the way.

whether you've been reading since july or just picked it up in the few days before it was finished, thank you so much for being here 💌

PS: method acting fun fact! this fic was actually a REQUEST that I wrote for someone, if you can believe it. further proof to kind of interact with writers and show ur love bc u can ask for a fic and then be stuck with this mumbo jumbo of almost 270k words at the end of it.

peace and love!!! ronnie out <3

(if you request any side pieces about this stories/ask any questions/etc!!! I am more than happy to always answer. i've thought of so much lore in my head)

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

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hedwig221b · 2 days

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Not the same anon but your fav jealous and possessive Derek fics? I’m talking toxic possessive, Stiles always in sight and scented and being touched cuz Derek just CANNOT STOP 💞💞💞😌👆🏼🙂‍↕️

Hi, hello, here you go 🔥💖 (p.s. we need more obsessed borderline toxic Derek pleek)

As it Should Be by KuroKitty (HaleYes)

Stiles comes home from his 18th birthday party at the bowling alley to find a surprise waiting for him in his room.

Or, the one where Derek has no chill.

Assume I'm just An Asshole by mannersmakethmine

the pack always finding Stiles and Derek in coupley situations and assuming they're fake dating because there's a new threat in town, and Stiles and Derek because the shits that they are just go along with it.

Deflowered by astrugglingstoic

In which there is a prince, a knight, sequential sword fights, and an anecdote about pressed flower petals.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table. Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food. Right in front of another Alpha. Who he was on a date with. To discuss being heat partners…." In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!

five times derek is protective of stiles and one time it's the other way around

Yeah, okay, so maybe Derek was a tad too protective of Stiles. So what? Sue him for worrying about his best friend, whom he totally does not have a raging crush on.

Okay, so maybe he does.

Shut up.

Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

Might be a Predator by churkey

Derek's mom once told him they were predators. It never occurred to him to ask, 'If werewolves are predators, what do we hunt?'.

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter

A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.

The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03

Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.

The Boy Is Mine, You Bonkers! by frownypup

It turns out that the words ‘a painfully smart and brave unclaimed human who is stupidly unutilized in Beacon Hill’s pack’ became the hottest gossip in werewolf underground. Yes, what the hell. Stiles’ existence has changed from a plankton to a rising sun.

Derek Hale has something he needs to say about it.

Three Little Words by Chloepioneer

“Oh god,” he whines, slapping a hand over his mouth to quell the vomit that boils the back of his throat. “Derek, is that the mailman?”

or Derek has a bad habit of killing people that take an interest in Stiles. Stiles might like it a little bit.

won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath

I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.

you are an obsession (i am your possession) by EvanesDust

Once Derek catches that tantalizing scent, he can’t stay away. Stiles. Derek’s completely enthralled by him. Obsessed. But all he can do is stand in the shadows, watching and waiting. Until he can make Stiles his, that is. And when that happens, Derek will never let him go.

Pack nights are not for getting laid by igotdamn

Stiles goes out clubbing, Derek doesn't like that very much.

Obsession by Rae666

Derek gets hit by a witch's curse and is confined to his loft as his uncle searches for a cure and Isaac stands guard. But as the curse grows worse and Derek's obsession with a certain pale skinned person becomes increasingly intense, how long can the team keep Derek and Stiles apart, especially when Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands?

pack mom!Stiles sterek fic rec here

angsty fic recs here

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek fanfic #sterek fic rec #sterek ao3 #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hedwig221b replies #stiles x derek #eternal sterek

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tripg · 21 hours

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Ghost slowly going deaf from years of noise overexposure. He's been able to read lips from years of recon and operations, but he learns sign language as a fallback.

Of course, Ghost doesn't want to tell Soap so that he doesn't worry, and so that Ghost can keep the status quo of the 141 until it's too late. He only tells Price.

Ghost loves hearing Soap's voice so much, and is desperate to hear it while he can (even if he hears it a lot already) since his sergeant's voice comforts him so much, and he's his ops partner...that's all, he tries to convince himself. Successfully, even. He doesn't want some of the last things he remembers hearing Soap say to be caring concern. Nothing to hold him back and make him regret things he can't help...

He doesn't want his hearing to go out, but when it does, he wants to remember things as they were. There's no place for him once it does. He's slowly becoming a liability. Price knows it, and only Price...

Soap finds out Ghost's going deaf and that Ghost was keeping it from him...(source withheld). But he also finds out why. Soap is decimated knowing his Lieutenant is so concerned about him and how he'd react but also that Ghost didn't want him to know...and he learns his Lt.'s reasons, and that cuts him deeper.

Soap never stops talking to Ghost, and tries to feign that he doesn't know what's happening, trying desperately to make sure Ghost only hears nice and good things...but knowing what's happening, he starts learning sign language in secret.

The day comes when Ghost finally loses his hearing medically. It's over, and he's not getting it back.

The same day, he tells Soap what happened. Soap seemed to notice at least—since he was the one affected most, and Ghost wanted Soap to know as soon as it was too late. He can only feel the vibrations of the words leaving his throat and watch Soap as his sergeant listens quietly. Ghost spills everything, especially while he can't hear himself anymore, and is just depending on how he remembered his words should feel as he spoke.

It's over, he thinks. I'm sorry.

But then, Ghost reads Soap's lips—wide-eyed—as Soap responds presumably verbally, but also in sign: "You may not know it, but I can still tell you I love you, Si..."

He reads Soap's lips as he probably spoke aloud, but Soap signs perfectly the entire message, up until the end...when he signs "Si":

Soap pinches with both hands, vertically, with fingertips together, drawing his right hand up from his left in a wavering, wispy motion. But then he clasps both hands into fists, with his arms crossing his chest in an X: "ghost"..."love"...

"Si. Simon."

After a few seconds, Ghost signed back: "S...Simon"

After a half minute of silence where they were both still and silent, Ghost asks a question to Soap, given he's still learning too.

"How do you sign 'sunshine'?"

...and then the base became a lot quieter, save some sniffling and questions as the two of them talked for hours.

The next day, Soap's voice wouldn't lead you to Ghost anymore.

Context + reasoning on the sign language described, which was American Sign Language (ASL) and not British Sign Language (BSL). My apologies for any confusion! tl;dr: Soap swaps from BSL to ASL only for his pet name for Ghost, so that it's less likely to be picked up by others.

#how do you sign 'sunshine'#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #soap cod

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siasthoughts · 3 days

Text

« I'M THE ONE YOU ALWAYS NEED. »

CONCEPT; MORTEFI X F!READER . YOU WENT TO HIM TO ASK HIM TO INVENT SOMETHING.

TOPICS/WARNINGS; USING TOYS . QUICK ORAL (F!RECEIVING) . ATP IDK . NGL THIS FEELS LIKE A DRABBLE . P IN V . PROBABLY OOC

IM PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES AND IM IN LOVE W SO MANY OF THEM N R PLANNING SOME FICS 💞 also should i start writing on ao3 hehe

WORD COUNT; 1.5K

"hey..." you voiced awkwardly as you tapped your knuckles at his open office door, catching his attention. "yes, do you need anything?" he asks, turning towards you and putting down his tablet. you walk into the office nervously, "you said i could ask you if i needed anything made, right?" you questioned, averting your gaze and looking around the room. "yes... i did say that." he looks at you, crossing his arms as he observed your anxious expression. you gulped quietly, swallowing your pride as you really can't seem to find anyone that sells these things... "have you ever made a..."

his eyes widen slightly at your inquiry, a replica of male genitalia? he clears his throat, holding up his fist to his mouth as he took a few moments to think before speaking up, "well no but... i couldn't say that anyone ever asked either." he turns back around to his desk and sends the current hologram he's working on into his drafts before starting a new project, "so... can you?" you asked for reassurance, tilting your head to get a view of the hologram.

he turns to you, leaning on his desk as he looks down at you with rested eyes, you could feel that you've definitely piqued his interest with your 'invention idea.' "have you ever considered just finding someone to be able to..." his voice lowers, "-use the real thing?" he leans down just a bit, but enough for you to get what he's insinuating. "well sure, in a way." you answered, your voice tensing up.

"oh really?" he retreats back, bringing up his hand to push his glasses back, "which person have you thought of?" he interrogated, seemingly trying to pry a certain answer out of you. you look away, staying silent for a few moments he breaks the silence with a small sigh, "well, it's understandable if you wish to not answer. but, i'll try to make that for you. expect it by the end of the day."

he sure works quick. a relieved exhale, even though embarassment still ran through your body, huffs out of your lips as he turns back to his desk. "t-thank you." you stammer nervously as you swiftly made your way out without exchanging any last words with the red haired researcher.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

as you were just getting ready to leave the laboratory, you hear a certain voice call out from behind you. you turn to see a familiar figure with gold-rimmed glasses—mortefi, and he was holding a paper bag.

you feel heat rise to your face as you remember what you just asked of him. "here's what you requested." he walks over to you, holding up the bag as his tablet rested within his other hand. "oh... you really made one." your hands trembled slightly as you took the bag, feeling shame wash over you. "oh, and sorry if it might not be to your best liking, i used... my own as a slight reference." he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before looking back up at you.

shock runs through you for a few moments before you smiled awkwardly at him, "oh- okay. thanks a lot though!" you tried to force an enthusiastic answer, failing miserable as your voice cracked a bit. "well then, i guess it's time to head home and have fun, no?" he said rather coldly, and with a straight face as he eyed you. well that felt rather insulting. you laughed sheepishly as you clenched onto the paper bag.

you thought about it for a while, if it's like his... why not just use the actual reference?

"sir... have you ever bothered doing these things with someone?" you asked, making the tension even more unbearable and uncomfortable. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, certain conclusions and thoughts already being formed in his head. "yes, in a way." he answered, seemingly mocking your words from earlier. "then..." you took a small breath, "would you mind using this with me?" your voice shakes as your grip on the bag tightens.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

well fuck.

he now knelt in between your thighs, with your legs over his shoulders, taking in your most sensitive parts as you sat over his desk. "i suppose we need to make your body ready first, right?" he voiced hoarsely, how is he doing this with a stern and cold expression? you swallow a breath as you looked at his calm gaze, "y-yes." you stuttered in a failed attempt to seem composed.

he took off his glasses, and placing it on his cold table before placing a warm, wet kiss onto your core, making your body shiver. you looked down at him as he strategically worked his mouth around you. he held onto your thighs, keeping you stable as his tongue gently worked around your folds, preparing your body and riling up it's appetite. your legs lock his head within your thighs, pulling him closer to your pussy. "mm..." he groaned out, making him frown a bit though he didn't really... dislike it.

"sorry..." you mumbled quietly, loosening your grip as he pulls back, and getting back up "it's very much okay and reasonable." he assures as he reaches for the bag and takes out it's contents. you shift your gaze to what's now in his hands, he used his own as reference?! it was lengthy, and he brought it down to your already wet cunt. "are you ready?" he asked, positioning the dildo against your drooling pussy, "yes." you whined quietly, looking down at the silicone toy.

"alright, i'm gonna do it slowly, okay?" he assured, his voice was low as he slowly pushed it in, starting with the tip. he kept his attention down towards your hole, observing the way it clenched desperately around the fake cock. he clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed it further, earning him a small moan from you as he felt his pants tighten. well shit.

he notices the now growing bulge in his pants as he pushes the entire thing into you gently, "is it okay?" he asks, looking back up at your now pleasure-washed face. it turned him even more. "absolutely..." you responded breathily as you looked down to see his aching cock hiding under the fabric of his pants. "i'll move it now." he thrusted the toy in and out slowly, hearing the wet noises as your pussy resisted against the movement.

he groans, feeling extremely jealous of the silicone figure within his hands. you moaned at the sensation electrifying you, shooting shots of pleasure into your veins as his hands sped up. your body shook as he started to get rougher, now slamming it into you as a knot formed quickly within your core.

"i-i'm getting close..." you mewled out as your legs instinctively closed themselves, and your back arching as his hand kept themselves on your hip to keep you stable. you cry out as you feel the pleasure wash over you, that knot breaking apart as you feel warm liquid spill out of your pussy, making your legs weak. "ah..." he muttered as he slowly pulled it out, feeling the fabric encasing his own heat now tighten even more as it hurts.

you look down at it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look up at him, "better if it's the real thing, no?" you said with a dazed laugh as you wrap your legs around his waist. "is this permission?" he asks with eager eyes as he put the dildo aside and his hands slowly undid his pants. "mhm..." you hummed, and even though you just finished, you felt excited for the real thing.

he laughed quietly as he let his pants fall a bit, revealing his twitching dick. it was desperate for your gaping hole, the way it squeezed on the dildo made him all frustrated for some reason. he wanted to feel it for himself. "i'm sorry, dear, i can't wait." he apologizes before pushing himself slowly but firmly into you. he groans at the feeling, your walls tightened against him and sending his body into euphoria as he feels his control over his body slowly dissipate.

you let out a staggered breath, though the smile returns to your lips as you find it in you to make some teasing remarks. "feels good, doesn't it?" you whisper as your hand moves up to cradle his face. "yes..." he says huskily as he couldn't find the strength to move. "what's wrong? why can't you move?" you voiced rather condescendingly as you start to circle your hips against him.

he frowns as his body twitches at your motion, with his grip on your waist deepening. you feel his fingers dig into your soft skin, making you feel a bit confident of your skills. mortefi hisses through his teeth as he slowly started to move, his length leaving your insides empty for a few moments before burying himself back inside you.

a small cry escapes your lips as you feel his cock fill your empty hole, and your body reacts as if it was running on desire. you reach for his back, your arms travel down his waist, stopping just at the hill of his hips. you push him further into you as sounds of pleasure quickly filled the room, echoing through the empty walls. you're both so lucky that everybody's gone.

you claw at his clothes, feeling as if you were ripping the white fabric apart, you whine out his name as you feel that familiar feeling boil up within your body. and you were sure he could feel it too. "are you close?" you asked breathily as his pace started to speed up, rougher, and harder. "so... tight." he frowns as he ravishes in the pleasure, letting it devour him as he continues to ram himself into you.

"i'm so close-" he scowls, his other hand roaming the skin of your stomach as he takes in the view under him. your vision slowly fades to white as you feel your mind go blank, losing your control over your body as you feel that sensation shatter, sending shards of pleasure all across your body. your body uncontrollably trembles under his touch as he pulls out swiftly with a groan and pressing his dick against your cunt, grinding into his climax.

you feel a sticky, warm liquid spill across your stomach and the soft plush of your pussy.

okay it's all up to u now guys 🤑

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#wuthering waves #mortefi #mortefi x reader #wuthering waves x reader #fanfic #x reader #smut #[💮] SIA.#[📝] sia.#f!reader #female reader #ooc #out of character.

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hhughes · 20 hours

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♯ 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 ◞ 𝑸𝑯⁴³

✰ pairing ⤫ fem!reader x quinn hughes

✰ synopsis ⤫ after some comments were made by Quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and Quinn has to reassure you

✰ content ⤫ 4 year age gap! suggestive?

✰ 💭 ⤫ I love writing for quinn so much <3

You and Quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including Luke. Your best friend and Quinn's youngest brother.

The four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. Jack and Luke were chirping Quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. Going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

You laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. Even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old.Your smile quickly faded when Jack started making comments about how all Quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

You know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. It wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with Quinn. Being four years younger than him. Not being enough to keep him interested. These comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding Quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and Quinn enters, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly

"Nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"Don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." Quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" the words slip out before you can stop them and Quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"Age is just a number baby," Quinn says teasingly and you sigh.

"Quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"So am I. I don't care if you're 4 years younger or 4 years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. You know how Jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. Especially if there's an opportunity to chrip me about something. If they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that." Quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

"I'm not ready to tell Luke yet." you say and Quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"The longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." Quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

Quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"God it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. Kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. You smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". Your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. If you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and Quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" Quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ QH43 #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb

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ifiguredyoudloveme · 2 days

Text

Unhuman (NSFW)

paul atreides x female!oc

summary: in the dark, a woman shows up in paul's room unannounced and gives him something he'll come to crave.

warnings: 18+, p in v sex, creampie, unnatural amount of cum, slight dubcon ? (paul is put under a spell to make him horny and in a trance-like state so idk), mention of knives, pure smut.

words: 1,852

a/n: i don't know where this character came from lol i just started writing. this makes no actual sense in the dune universe btw i just wanted to write about paul. also this took me over 10 days to write cus i kept procrastinating and i still don't really like it but oh well.

Paul awakens to a feeling that he is not alone in the bedroom he lays. A sense of unease creeps up the back of his neck, hairs standing, as he scans the room for the movement of shadow.

He sees it: a static movement in front of the closed door. He is able to make out the shape of the figure as his eyes adjust to the darkness. It's small but only seems to be a few inches shorter than Paul, however does not have the frame of any man he can think of. A woman, most probably.

"Who are you?" Paul asks. His voice is calm but his mind and rapid heart are not as he reaches for the dagger that usually rests without use under his pillow. He stands, hiding the weapon behind his back, the cold steel pressed against his bare skin.

The woman walks towards him with confident strides. Paul holds in a breath and tightens his grip on the knife. When she's mere inches from him, she draws a knife of her own from her side and presses the tip against the underside of Paul's chin.

"Drop it," she demands. He obeys on command despite the Voice not being used. Paul doesn't feel as though she possesses the ability to use it, and yet, he feels an odd inclination to do as she says.

Paul huffs out the air from his lungs. Her eyes are large and almost seem to be glowing; they're dark as a starless night sky, though he can't make out the colour. Her lips are plump and inviting. She pushes the knife upwards slightly, nearly breaking the skin, before dropping it herself. It clatters against the floor though Paul barely hears it. He has the overwhelming desire, suddenly, to kiss her.

"Who are you?" He asks. He wishes to be assertive in this moment, threatening to the unknown intruder, but he finds his voice will not obey and instead every word he utters comes out as a beg of a higher pitch. What is he begging for?

"It doesn't matter who I am." Her voice is soft and comes out unhuman, like an echoed whisper in the wind. Paul wonders if she's an angel, or a spirit, with her unnatural beauty. "I know who you are, and I'm quite surprised this is working so well on someone like you."

"May I...May I know, at least, what your purpose here is?" Paul's voice is low and hoarse and he can barely get the words out. He's been hypnotized by her - his hands squeeze together behind his back so as not to give into the urge to touch. She needs to leave.

She grins and looks down over Paul's half-naked frame. She rests a warm hand over the right side of his chest. His breath hitches. "I've come to give you something," she replies, her voice sweet and intoxicating. "I'm sure you'll like it, as will I."

Paul, without thought, places his hand over hers. "Has somebody sent you?"

She sighs and drops her hand. Paul's eyebrows furrow in worry; he doesn't want her to leave before she gives him whatever it is she's here for. All worries disappear when her hand returns to touch his face. "Yes, Paul, but I cannot disclose by who."

Paul's name on her lips make him gasp and lean into her touch. She's turned him into an obedient puppy, his eyes hazy and wide with anticipation and his red lips parted lazily. In a part of his mind that is usually far closer to him than now, he's disgusted with himself, his lack of the authority that's expected of him.

"May I see what you have come to give me?" His voice is a whine now. He wants to slap himself for his stupidity. He should tell her to leave, draw the knife to her throat and demand to know who she is, but he doesn't. Instead, he twists his head towards her palm and plants a soft kiss in the middle of it. She smiles at this gesture.

"Yes, of course."

Paul inhales deeply as her soft fingers slide from the side of his face and down his neck, fluttering over his collarbone then over his nipple, down his stomach. Her fingers leave a tingle behind on the skin she's touched. She stops once her hand is rested on his lower abdomen, edging dangerously close to his stirring arousal. "Please..." Paul whispers, barely audible.

"Will you lay down for me, Paul?" She asks sweetly. Paul nods, over and over, until he's rested on his back, his hands drawn up towards his chest in remaining insecurity over his fragile frame.

The woman is straddled over his lower hips in seconds though he didn't see her move, as if she used some sort of teleportation. She leans down until their mouths are barely touching, her breath light against his wet lips. "You're very beautiful, Paul. So delicate."

She reaches between their bodies and lightly grips his erection. A soft oh leaves his lips in a moan and he lifts his hips on instinct in search for friction. The head of his cock is wet and stains the thin material of his pants. He can almost swear, through the daze of his brain, that his erection is far bigger than it typically is, barely contained in the fabric. What he knows, for sure, is that his sensation to touch is amplified to an intensity he is unsure he can handle.

She connects her lips to his and they are as soft as Paul had imagined. He groans deeply into her mouth and pushes his wet tongue between her teeth. Their tongues dance together and her hand grips harder, stroking him frustratingly slow. "Please..." It's as if please is the only word he knows.

She pulls away and smiles, nodding in understanding, and grips the waistband of his pants to slide them down. His cock frees and makes a dirty slap against his stomach, loud in the stillness of the room. Paul reaches for her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back down so they lay skin to skin. She's so warm, and she's naked. Paul wonders if she's been naked this whole time, shadowed by the dark.

She leans into his ear, massages his curls between her fingers. "I'll make you feel good," she whispers so lightly Paul wouldn't have heard if it weren't for the deep silence of the room besides their breaths and his beating heart. He can't hear hers, nor can he feel it against his chest.

"Yeah?" Is all he can mutter, dizzy with desire as he feels her wetness slide over his cock, tip rubbing against her clit. Her pace is slow, too slow, so Paul grips her tighter and lifts his hips upward in a smooth rhythm, meeting her movements. She lets out a moan against his ear, so unhuman but so lovely he wonders if this is in fact a dream.

"Yes." With that, she lifts her hips and sinks down onto Paul's erection, filling her to the hilt. He shrieks an ungodly moan at the feeling and almost cums but manages to, somehow, hold it in. It's the best sensation he's ever felt.

"I can't, I can't," he repeats in huffs, "I don't think I'll last long, I don't—"

"Shh." She places her lips to his neck, sucking on the warm, salty skin. He goes pliant at this: arms slack and dropping to his side, his hands flexing and reaching for sheets to grip. He lets out a shaky whine. He wouldn't mind if his only purpose in life was to exchange pleasure with her, whoever she is.

Once she finally moves, her hips lifting slowly before coming back down again, his head pushes back into the pillow and a whimper escapes his throat. His neck is further exposed and she switches to the other side, sucking there. Paul lightly grips her hair, shorter than his own, and arches his back off the bed.

Her movements increase in speed and, against the sensitive skin of his neck where she's licked and sucked and nipped at, she asks: "Am I fulfilling my promise?"

A sobby whine vibrates in his chest as he nods, his cock leaking profusely with clear liquid inside of her. He's so blissed out he's unable to speak, eyes pricking with tears.

The noises that fill the room are unholy, wet slaps and heated groans of pleasure. She's mainly quiet besides the occasional soft moan when Paul bucks his hips upward to meet her in the middle.

She disconnects her wet, full lips from his neck and connects them to his lips once again, breathing in his steady flow of moans. She takes his cock fully and begins to rock her hips forward and backward, sucking on his tongue as she does so. He whimpers into her mouth at this sudden change of movement and grinds his hips to meet the rhythm of hers.

Paul turns his head to the side, disconnecting their lips, and throws his head back. He moves his hands from her hair to grip her ass and push her down, grinding harder with added force. He's close, and has a deep, forceful desire to cum inside of her.

"I'm gonna– Can I– Please–" Paul mumbles and whines against her ear, unable to form full sentences. His grinds become sloppy as his release climbs close and his grip on her loosens, hands flexed and shaking.

"Yes, Paul," she breathes against his ear, granting him permission. She plants a soft kiss against his cheek as he cums, calming him down with fingers through his hair as he writhes and moans loudly beneath her.

Tears run down his cheeks, cock pulsing inside of her heat and spurting out rope after rope of cum – an unnatural amount. He can feel the warm liquid seep out of her, pooling around the base of his cock and running down his tight balls. The feeling is so intense and delicious he knows that, if he is never to see her again, he may not be able to live with his craving for this. For her.

Once Paul has settled and his heart returns to a steady beat, she lifts her hips and his soaked, softening cock slides out of her and slaps against his thigh. More of his cum leaks out of her and onto his lower stomach. She smiles and places her hands on either side of his face, kissing him, then flips onto her back beside him.

Paul immediately rolls over and wraps his arms around her, unable to handle the lack of her touch. He rests his head against her chest and she lifts a hand to stroke his damp curls. "Don't go," he whispers.

The woman feels cruel knowing she eventually must. But she won't tell Paul this, not yet. Possibly she's been too harsh with her seduction, or Paul is far more sensitive to it than she assumed he would be.

"I won't," she fibs.

#paul atreides #paul atreides imagine #dune part 2 #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine

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kpop---scenarios · 16 hours

Text

Reckless (3)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Brothers Bestfriend

Warning: Smut, Heartbreak [18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @caught-in-the-afterglow @ana-marais98 @rylea08 @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29

A/N: Please don't hate me too much...

Part One | Part Two |

“I'm going to bed.” You announce, glancing at Minho one more time. He wouldn't look at you. He knew what he did was wrong and you hoped he'd see how fucking hurt you were. How could he fuck you like that and then turn around and go on a date with someone else? Especially someone named Maya. All the Maya's you had met throughout your life had always been twats and you were sure this one would be too.

You cleaned yourself up in the shower, scrubbing your body as you try to scrub away the memory of Minho, you can still feel his fingertips on your body, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his breathy moans in your ear. You close your eyes as you remember how fucking good he made you feel. You stumble back, lost in your memories, banging your head on the shower wall. You shake the memories from your head, you wished you didn't have those, you wished this had not happened. You wished you would have known how he would have acted towards you after he fucked you because then you probably wouldn't have done it. You wouldn't have made yourself feel like garbage. Why did you have to fall for your brother's best friend? You get out of the shower, drying yourself off before slipping on jammies before you crawl into your bed. You couldn't help but feel betrayed and just heartbroken at his actions.

You could get even, especially since there was a party tomorrow night, you'd easily be able to make him jealous, and maybe.. just maybe it might make you feel better to see him seething at you with another man. But do you want to get even? Or did you want to just forget about it? You snuggled into your bed, falling asleep with a smile on your face and a plan in your head.

The next morning you woke up, feeling sad but also excited. You hoped your plan would go according to plan, but you were well aware that life was often able to throw you curveballs and you hoped tonight would be one of the nights that it didn't. Most of the day you lazed around, not doing anything. Around 6pm, you heard Jisung and Minho talking and laughing as they got ready for their dates. You came out of your room, standing in Jisung’s doorway, leaning against the frame as you glare at Minho quickly.

“You look nice.” You tell Jisung. He turns and smiles at you.

“Thanks little sis.” He smiles.

“What about me?” Minho asks. You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to secretly soften you, making it easier to forgive him but not this time.

“You look like shit.” You deadpan, crossing your arms and walking away. You can hear Jisung laughing as you head to the kitchen.

“What'd you do to piss her off?” Jisung laughs. You smirk a little as you head into the kitchen, finding a snack before you fill your body with alcohol.

“People will show up around 10, Y/N, incase I'm not home.” Jisung tells you as he heads for the door. “We should be back by then tho.” He finishes, walking out the door, Minho behind him. He turns around to look at you. You turn your head, sticking up the middle finger as he walks out the door.

Part of you felt guilty for treating him like that, but how could he fuck you, and then go on a date with someone else? He could have at least given you a heads up about the date or something, instead of blind siding you.

A few hours later as you were finishing getting ready, the doorbell rang. Everything was already ready, you just needed to let people in. You headed down stairs to open the door and a swarm of people pushed their way into the house. you backed off, leaving the door wide open as you turned on Jisung's playlist, heading to the kitchen to get drunk. When you were on your fourth shot, finally feeling something, Jisung, Jisoo, Minho and who you can only assume was Maya walked into the house. You glare at Minho as you take your fourth shot, your eyes never leaving him as Maya talks to him, and he looks extremely uninterested in what she was saying.

“Thanks for getting it started, Y/N.” Jisung smiles, handing a drink to Jisoo.

“How was your date?” You ask, smiling at Jisoo. It was still so weird to see your friend dating your brother, but god forbid you date your brother's friend.

“So much fun!” Jisoo gushes, grabbing onto Jisung's arm.

“Oh, Y/N this is Maya, Maya, my sister Y/N.” Jisung says introducing the two of you.

“Hi.” You say, with a small smile.

“Jisung, Minho.” Maya whines. “You didn't tell me she was so pretty.” she finishes as Minho drapes his arm around her shoulders.

You awkwardly laugh. “Um, thanks.. “ you sort of whisper. “Oh this is my friend Chan.” You smile, pulling the first guy you see towards you. “Chan, this is Maya, Minho's friend.” You say, introducing the two. Chan smiles and waves, he knows Minho and Jisung very well, and you can see it in his eyes that he's fuming at the fact that you're grabbing onto Chan.

“You wanna take a shot?” You ask Chan. He smiles and nods his head, letting you pull him deeper into the kitchen to get a different kind of shot. You and Chan stand there and drink, talking and laughing. He was really funny, and you couldn't control how much you laughed. It didn't help that you were getting very drunk and everything was hilarious to you.

“Do you wanna dance?” You ask Chan, your hand holding onto his bicep.

“Yes. Please.” He smiles, again letting himself be pulled away by you.

“Where are you two going?” Minho asks as the two of you pass him and Maya.

“Dancing.” You respond, looking straight ahead to ignore eye contact.

You and Chan face each other, wrapping your arms around his neck as he places his hand on your lower back, pulling you in to grind on him closer. You look towards the kitchen, seeing Minho stare at the two of you, his jaw clenching as he watches you both. You chuckle to yourself, seeing Maya trying to talk to him but he ignores her, only paying attention to you. You look away and back at Chan who was looking at you. He was cute.. no he was hot. He really was. But there was something about fucking Minho that you couldn't shake. As great as Chan was, he wasn't Minho and you didn't know what to do.

“Y/N.” Jisung calls.

“I'll be right back.” You tell Chan, heading over to your brother.

“Can you take the trash out? Pleaseeeee. I've got a situation to deal with.” He says. You roll your eyes taking the trash bag from his hand and drunkenly stumble out of the front door of the house and head to the secluded side where the garbage bins are. You shuffle passed the garden tools your parents left on the side of the house, almost tripping before someone grabs your wrist, pulling you back up and causing you to drop the garbage. You turn around and see Minho standing there. He takes the garbage tossing it in the bin, you try to walk away but he grabs your wrist again, spinning you, making your chest and face press against the house as he presses his body against yours.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He whispers, his hot breath hitting your ear, making you shiver.

“Doing what?” You ask. You knew what you were doing.

“Making me jealous.” He sighs. “With Chan of all people? You couldn't have picked anyone else?” He asks.

“I like Chan. He's nice.” You whisper.

“I'm nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” You scoff.

“Are you trying to forget me?” He asks.

“Isn't that what you're doing with Maya?” You ask. “Trying to forget me?”

“I'm trying. But it's so fucking hard when all I want is you.” He whispers. “You're forbidden and it makes it all that much more tempting. I want you so fucking bad.” He groans, pressing his hard cock into your ass, making you moan.

“My favorite sound.” He breathes, pressing his cock against you a little harder. He moves back, grabbing your clothed tits, teasing your nipple over your shirt.

“Just fuck me, please.” You breathe. You knew it was wrong. You knew you were an idiot for this, but what could you do? You were so fucking in love with this man.

Minho doesn't say anything, you can hear the sound of his belt buckle being undone. You turn around, dropping to your knees in front of him. You grabbed onto his cock, sucking on his tip before pushing him further down your throat until he hit the back. Minho groans loudly as he holds onto your head, thrusting himself into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time.

“Fuck your mouth feels so fucking good.” He sighs as he throws his head back, groaning loudly. You look up at him, his cock still in your mouth. He looks down at you, smirking.

“What a sight.” He says, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat.

Minho pulls himself from your mouth, helping you up off the ground as he hikes up your dress. He pulls down your panties, before he lifts you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as he lines himself up with you. He slowly pushed his cock inside you, stretching you out as he fills you up. You cry out as he thrusts harshly into you, pounding you against the wall.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out, wrapping your arms tightly around him as he fucks you harder.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good.” He gasps, his fingers digging deeply into you. He slams into you harder and harder with each thrust, hitting your G spot and clit in the right spot each fucking time. Your orgasm doesn't take long, the dancing with Chan and then the teasing with Minho had made you so fucking horny.

“Right there.. fuck, yes!” You cry out as you cum, covering his cock with your juices.

Minho is right behind you, cumming hard, deep inside you.

“Shit.” He pants, as he slides his cock out of you. He does his jeans back up, buckles his belt and looks at you with a look you didn't like.

“I'm sorry.. I gotta go back in. I forgot about Maya.” He whispers. You nod your head, shooing him off as you put your panties back on and head inside to the bathroom. You clean yourself up and head to the kitchen for another drink.

“There you are.” You hear. You look and see Chan standing there with two shots and a smile on his face. You walk over taking the shot, and thanking him.

“You were gone for a while.” He laughs.

“Yeah, taking the trash out is time consuming.” You say, looking around for Minho. And you found him. Dancing with Maya, she's grinding her ass on his cock, the one that had just been inside you minutes ago. You try to not let it bother you. The two of you weren't dating, you knew that. You wanted to be with him though and you had thought he felt the same but then looking at him like this with her, it makes you wonder what he truly wants.

“Dance?” Chan asks, holding out his hand.

“More shots first.” You smile. The two of you take a few more shots before heading back out to the dance floor. It doesn't last long, you were focused on Chan until you started looking for Minho, and you found him. His lips locked with Maya's, making out as they dance. Tears brimming in your eyes, you quietly excuse yourself from Chan and quickly make your way upstairs. Minho had just happened to see you storm out of the room, he called after you, but the music was too loud.

Jisung storms over to Minho, making him look at him. “There's nothing going on with you and my sister, right?” He asks Mjnho.

“No man, why?” Minho asks.

“I don't know.. just making sure.” Jisung sighs, walking away. Minho takes the opportunity to sneak upstairs, excusing himself from Maya for a moment. He walks into your room, seeing you cry into a pillow. It breaks his heart, and he knew this was going to break you even more.

“Y/N.” He starts.

“What do you want?” You yell. “You wanna come fuck me again and then go make out and be with someone else?”

“That's not!” He yells, taking a deep breath. “That's not fair.” He says calmly. “This whole thing is fucked up. Jisung thinks something is going on between us.” Minho admits.

“There is.” You say.

“There can't be. This can't happen again.”

“Why? Because of my brother? Fuck him!” You yell.

“He's done so much for me, Y/N. I can't.. I can't ruin our friendship over this.. over us.” He sighs.

“So there is an us.” You whisper.

“No.” He says, running his hands through his hair. You could tell he was fighting internally about what to say next. “There's no us. There will never be an us. Okay?” He says. “You need to stay away from me. Let me be with Maya. You do you. But leave me alone.”

“If you're serious Minho, I'm done. I'm done letting you use me and leave me because of Jisung.” You snap.

He turns to walk out the door.

“If you walk out that door, it's fucking done.” You cry. Minho pauses for a second. And for a second you thought, you hoped he'd change his mind and rush towards you and kiss you. But he didn't. He walked right out that door, leaving you sobbing into your pillow.

Your cry doesn't last very long. You are a strong woman, and you didn't want to let a man who was afraid to admit to your brother that he liked you bring you down. You wiped your face, reapplied some make up and headed back downstairs where you saw Minho laughing with Maya and Jisung. Fuck him. You strutted over to Chan, grabbed the back of his head and planted your lips directly on his. You didn't feel any sparks, not like how it felt with Minho but you didn't let it stop you. He embraced the kiss, pulling you in closer to him. You break the kiss and smile at him. He grins back at you, chuckling.

“Wow.” He breathes. “I wanted to ask you.. if you'd like to grab dinner with me some time?”

You looked behind you, seeing Minho glare at the two of you. You smile at Chan. “I'd love to.”

#straykidsland #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids writing #skz writing #stray kids #skz #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut

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sinisterexaggerator · 21 hours

Text

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

6.8k+

Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren. Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company.

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends.

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment.

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action.

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.”

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you.

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around.

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed.

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high.

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part.

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger.

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth.

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner.

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose.

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose.

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable.

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds.

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints.

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud.

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown.

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life.

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin.

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance.

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm.

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes.

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center.

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl.

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit.

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it.

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings.

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time.

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption.

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin.

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking.

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again.

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips.

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous.

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection.

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return.

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss.

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

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alphajocklover · 3 days

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Hey- I'm one of the presidents of our university's honor fraternity. And its great, don't get me wrong or anything. But we're essentially just a group of skinny white nerds and calling us a "fraternity" is a bit of a stretch. I was hoping to try and use your app to give some of the members a real "frat" experience, especially since its summer now. I thought I'd just test it on me and the other members of our frat's leadership, just to make sure its safe. But I'm having a hard time setting reversal parameters and I'm unable to stop this stupid countdown. Any help please?

You know, for a self proclaimed nerd, you really didn’t do a lot of research. I know that InstaJock is mysterious and not very well known, but what I mentioned in my previous posts should have been enough for you to figure out a few of the issues with your idea. Just to clarify though, let’s go down the list of issues

InstaJock can only be used on one person at a time: the person currently using the phone to set up a profile. The only person you’re about to turn into a Jock is yourself, though I imagine the rest of your frat leaders will get the app too, after you send it to them.

InstaJock is not ‘my app.’ I report on it, and I know a lot more about it than most people, but I didn’t make it. I’m not sure anyone knows who did. If you’re looking for inside information about the app, you’re out of luck.

Reversal Parameters. The app doesn’t have those.

Yes you read that last one correctly. One of the first things most people learn about InstaJock is that it’s irreversible. Sure you can change something about yourself after the fact using the settings, but you can never go back to being the nerd you were. I don’t know where you got your information about this app, but I think someone has been trying to trick you into turning yourself into a jock. I can almost prove it too. See, another basic rule of the app is that InstaJock is, well, instant. There is no flash or growth spurt on anything. One moment you’re a nerd, the next you’re a dumb muscular jock. There shouldn’t be a countdown. Not unless… someone added it to your phone for a specific reason.

Someone wants to watch you squirm, watch you panic as you realize there’s no hope and that you’re definitely going to turn into a dumb jock, and probably drag your entire frat along with you. It might be another person in your frat who thought the app was just a joke and never expected you to find a real version of it, or a jock who wanted to take you and your frat down a peg and turn you guys into proper frat bros. But whoever it is, they’ve got you good. I’m sorry but there isn’t any way out of this. If you’re lucky you might be able to alter the settings a bit, but I imagine whoever did this to you already thought of that. As soon as that countdown ends, you’ll be a jock.

I am really confused as to who did this to you though. For it to be one person, that person would have to be a jock who had access to InstaJock and could invite you, but also would have to be smart enough to plan this all out and close enough to you to gain access to your phone. That could only be a few people. Maybe one of the mysterious app developers knows you personally?

I guess it doesn’t really matter to you now. Hope you enjoy being a beer drinking, muscle flexing, popular and sexy frat bro. I hope the rest of your frat likes it too.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 3 days

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Hii, i love your storys and i hope you could do a Casey Nowak one, were casey is older than the reader. Casey has her menopause and has not that much of a high sex drive anymore and other menopause symtomes. She is really scared that the reader will leaver her. They have to find a way to handel the "problem".

Hey, friend! Hope you enjoy! 💖 - illdowhatiwantthanks

Changes

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: implied sex, discussions about sex, menopause, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Something's wrong with Casey. You can tell. But she doesn't seem to want to talk about. You're worried you've done something wrong, but it turns out to be something neither of you have control over.

It was one of those days that should have been perfect. A light rain outside served as the perfect excuse for you and Casey to stay in bed all day. And, for the most part, that’s where you’d been. Besides a late brunch–pancakes eaten hot as you stood by the kitchen counter–you’d been lounging around. Casey had gotten a bit of work done, but her laptop sat abandoned on the nightstand now as you straddled her hips, lavishing her in long, slow kisses. You took your time with her; you had time to take today.

But there came a moment when you realized, even as aroused as you were, that Casey was no longer kissing you back, not really. You pulled back, looking at her curiously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You okay, love?” you asked.

Casey avoided your eyes. “Yeah. I’m sorry, honey, I’m just not feeling it today.”

“That’s okay,” you assured her, moving to lay beside her. And it was. It was always okay if Casey wasn’t feeling it. But you couldn’t help the aching in your lower stomach, the wetness pooling that you knew would probably not be taken care of today. And probably not tomorrow. The truth was, Casey hadn’t been feeling it much at all lately, which was odd for her. For the entirety of your relationship, over five years now, Casey had always had by far the highest sex drive of the two of you. But now, it was like a switch had been flipped.

Nevertheless, you tried your best to be loving and supportive, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing your face into the crook of her neck. But as soon as you did, Casey squirmed away, huffing.

“Y/N, just…don’t touch me right now, okay?!”

Her voice was rough, harsh, and you flinched. Casey sighed and covered her face with her hands, flushing deeply. You moved away, watching her with concern. Casey never yelled at you. And she always liked to be touched. So much so that you teased her about it. Something was wrong. And it had to have been something you did.

You wondered what it was. It must have been something bad for Casey to react like this. Casey was so direct, she didn’t let anything fester. So for her to avoid talking about it? You wracked your brain, going over the last weeks and months of your relationship, trying to figure out what you’d done to drive a wedge between the two of you.

You felt tears form in the corners of your eyes. This had never happened. Not with Casey. You talked things through. You worked things out. You left nothing unsaid or unspoken. You were suddenly terrified that something had ruptured, something that you wouldn’t be able to fix.

“I’m sorry, Casey,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

She turned quickly to look at you, her eyes wide with surprise and concern. “Oh, honey, for what?” she asked, wiping a loose tear from underneath your eye.

“I can tell something’s wrong,” you said, your voice quiet. “Did I do something? Did I hurt you?”

Casey exhaled heavily, a few of her own tears glistening in her eyes.

“It’s not you, sweetheart, it’s me,” she mumbled.

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach. It’s not you, it’s me. That’s what people said before they left you.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Casey groaned and rubbed her temples, chuckling a little. “But you might want to break up with me after this.”

“Casey,” you pleaded. “Please talk to me. What the hell is going on!?”

She sniffled, a single tear dripping down the side of her face, and you grasped her fingers in yours.

“I haven’t had a period in three months.” She spoke quickly, as if afraid she might not get it all out.

Your hand shot to your mouth. “You’re pregnant!?”

Casey choked out something that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Y/N, I’m gay. How would that even happen!? I’m not pregnant.” She took a shaky breath. “I’m starting menopause.”

You were silent for a moment, watching as Casey squeezed her eyes shut, trying (and mostly failing) to suck the tears back into her eyes.

“Oh,” you said, when you finally spoke. And then felt like an absolute idiot that that’s what you led with. But this was new, and you weren’t really sure how to address it. You were years, maybe even decades, away from menopause yourself, but you wanted to do all you could to support Casey.

“Well, are you…” You stumbled through your words, as if tripping over rocks. “Do you feel… okay? How are you– God…” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry, love, I’m completely fucking this up.”

When you removed your hands from your face, you were shocked to see Casey shaking with sobs.

You surged toward her. “Hey,” you cooed, your voice heavy with emotion. Your hands stopped just before touching her. “Can I… Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nodded, shuddering, and you pulled her onto you so that she could rest her head on your chest and you could wrap your arms protectively around her, placing a flurry of kisses on the top of her head. When her tears had subsided and her breathing slowed, you carded your fingers through her hair, hoping the rhythm would help calm her.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she said, her voice rough from crying. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I just… I’m hot as hell all the time, and I’m moody, and I’m dry as the fucking Sahara.”

“You are hot all the time,” you teased, resting your chin on her head.

She swatted at your arm. “This just…” Casey sniffled again, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “It’s not what you signed up for. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Casey.” You sighed, caressing her cheek. “This is exactly what I signed up for.”

“No, it’s not. I’m basically an old lady.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin up so she had to look at you. “I can assure you that you’re not an old lady. You know how I know?”

Casey shook her head.

“Because I don’t want to fuck old ladies.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit.

“Now when you’re actually an old lady, like a little meemaw, and we’re living in the retirement village, I’m sure then I’ll want to fuck old ladies because I’ll be old, too, and my tastes will have grown with me. But for now? No old ladies. Only MILFs.”

Casey giggled, and you smiled, glad to see your girl feeling like herself again.

“Okay,” she conceded, still a bit hesitant. “But you deserve sex if that’s what you want. And I… I don’t really want sex very much right now.”

You stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Come on, now, Counsellor, you work SVU. You know better than that. Nobody deserves sex. That’s not how it works. And I think you forget that I know my way around a vibrator.”

“Yeah, but–” You shushed her quickly with a finger pressed lightly on her lips.

“No buts. I love you, Case. Not because you’re great in bed. Although…” You shrugged. “I mean, you are. I love you because you’re you. That’s not gonna change.”

Casey sighed. “Okay,” she whispered, snaking her arms around you.

You sat like that for a few minutes, relieved to be on the same page again, to know what was wrong. And even though you might not be able to fix it, you could at least be there for her.

Casey finally spoke, her fingers playing lightly with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “If you wanted to try out the vibrator… Maybe I could watch?”

You shot up, staring at Casey as she smirked at you, desperately hoping she was serious. “Really?”

She nodded, propping herself up with her elbow. You launched yourself out of bed, full-on sprinting to the closet, where you kept all the toys. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you breathed.

Casey laughed and called out, “You better not come too fast! That’s no fun for me.”

You grinned, poking out of the closet to point at her. “See? I told you! MILF.”

Casey shook her head playfully, relieved that you’d taken the news so well. And so, so happy that you were hers. As you rifled through the closet, you felt much the same.

#casey novak #casey novak fanfic #casey novak x reader #casey novak x fem!reader #casey novak fluff #hurt/comfort #svu #law and order svu #svu fanfic

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chosok-amo · 1 day

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BABYSITTER‘S PUNISHMENT : TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you tryna steal from toji to only end up getting fucked by him.

CONTENT WARNING : smut! toji, rough sex, spanking.

P.S this is from toji's pov

ever since my marriage fell apart, and my bitch of an ex-wife (pretend it's not megumi's mom) left me for some hunky personal trainer, I’ve been a little short-tempered. you see, we had built a home together and raised a beautiful son, megumi, who I love more than anything else in the world. we had a gorgeous house in the suburbs, complete with a swimming pool and a large garden with a playground for megumi to entertain himself. I couldn’t have asked for a better home to start a family. so when the aforementioned whore decided to destroy our family, my spirits were crushed and I started to lash out on everyone around me. my secretary at the office was the first to feel my wrath, as I blamed her for every little thing that went wrong, whether it was her fault or not. she was forgiving, though, and ignored my raging temper.

then, I started to shout at people while I was driving, frequently cursing other motorists and swerving erratically so I could make obscene hand gestures at them. I never lashed out at my daughter, I should add. no, she was the one thing that gave me joy in those dark times. a few months after the divorce proceedings, my wife’s ridiculous relationship with her new boyfriend imploded on itself and she came crawling back. I was having none of it and made sure she stayed away.

of course, with the bitch out of the picture I needed some help to look after Megumi whenever I worked late or had to attend meetings at weekends. Luckily, I managed to find a perfect babysitter whose situation suited all of my needs. She was free to work practically every evening and was able to pick up Megumi from school, take him home, feed him, and put him to bed before I even got back. It was an ideal arrangement, not just because of her seemingly constant availability, but because she was absolutely smoking hot. When I interviewed her for the position, I had to keep pulling my eyes away from her chest. Her juicy, round breasts were pressed up against the fabric of her shirt, and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra as I could see two prominent bumps at nipple height.

Her name was Y/n, and her cute smile and flowing hair instantly made the blood rush to my cock. I hired her on the spot, and ever since that day I reveled in the sight of her perky ass whenever I returned home. I could hardly believe my luck— she was stunning, she also got on very well with Megumi and seemed to be totally professional in her duties. However, my opinion of her changed somewhat when I discovered a truth about her that sent me into a rage.

It all happened one day when I was supposed to be working late. I had arranged for her to pick up Megumi as usual and I was set to return home around 10 P.M that night. y/n was totally obliging and supportive, and so the evening seemed to be set. As it turned out I finished work an hour earlier than I’d expected as the person I was supposed to be having a video conference call with didn’t show up. So, I headed home in a somewhat disgruntled and annoyed state. I pulled up at the front of the house, got out of the car, and walked up to the door.

My bedroom light seemed to be turned on, which was strange as I always made sure to turn lights off whenever I left a room— my OCD-like behavior was one of the things my ex-wife hated the most about me. I thought nothing of it and continued up the garden path to the front door. As I walked inside I looked into the living room and then the kitchen. There was no sign of y/n or Megumi, so I assumed that she was busy putting my son to bed. I walked around on my tip-toes for a while, removing my jacket while I got a drink of water from the tap.

Finally, I decided to go up and get changed, so I snuck up the stairs. Megumi’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, but his light was turned off. I thought maybe the lamp should have been on if y/n was in there. I looked at my bedroom door and again saw the light was turned on. I made my way to the door and pushed it open gently as the suspicion flooded my mind.

I peered inside and saw y/n’s ass wiggling around at me as she bent underneath the bed. She was rooting around for something, and when I saw her bag next to her with a small candle-stick holder poking out, I realized she was stealing things from my room. I was horrified that I had let such a criminal into my house and left her alone with my precious son. However, the sight of her ass moving around turned my anger into something else. Within a matter of seconds, I could feel my cock getting harder.

She hadn’t noticed I was back yet, as her head was well and truly under the bed as she searched for items to plunder. I watched for a few seconds as the rage built inside me, and then stepped inside, closing the door shut as quietly as I could. I crouched behind her and watched for a moment, contemplating the best course of action. The blood was rushing out of my brain to my cock, though, so there was only really one thing on my mind. I knew exactly how to punish her.

”What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I said in a stern voice. She froze and then shuddered as she realised she had been caught. It must have been a massive shock to her system, as she didn’t say a word for what seemed like an eternity. I repeated myself, and then grabbed her feet and dragged her out from under the bed. She tried to claw the carpet to stop me but I was far too strong. As her head appeared from under the bed, she looked up at me with pleading eyes, no doubt presuming she could buy her way out of the situation with a suggestive wink and a squeeze of her breasts. Such leniency was most definitely not on the table, though. I grabbed her arms and pulled her up to her feet, and then turned her around and forced her up against the bed.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!“ she kept repeating, but I wasn’t listening.

“You think you can steal from me?” I scowled, pushing her back down on to the bed as she tried to stand up again. Her ass stuck out as she bent over the side of the bed and I continued “I’ll teach you not to steal from me!”

“What are you going to do with me?” she pleaded, but as she looked back she already knew what I had in mind for her. I kept her chest firmly pressed down on the duvet and raised my hand up above her ass, striking it down with a loud crash. She yelped in horror as I spanked her ass, but I kept going, slapping each cheek over and over again. She tried to push herself up, but I just pushed her back down. She kept resisting, so I grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back, holding them in place with one hand while I continued to spank the naughty bitch. She winced and groaned with every hit that thrashed across her ass, but I didn’t feel like she had nearly learned her lesson.

“Are you sorry?” I growled, finding myself getting more and more turned on by her whimpering. Her screams to be let go almost sounded sexual in nature, as if the spanking was turning her on more than it was hurting her.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried, repeating it after every strike that landed over her ass. My cock was rock hard and almost bulging from my trousers. Then I had a much better thought of how to punish her more effectively. I pulled her back up and stood her at the side of the bed, letting go of her arms as I wrapped mine around her chest, constraining her movement completely. She wiggled her body to loosen herself from my grasp, but my arms were far too strong. I ran my hands over her stomach, feeling the material of her vest top as I moved higher and higher towards her breasts.

Once again she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were poking out firmly through her top. I groped at them and squeezed the warm, fleshy lumps in my fingers as she squirmed around in my arms. No doubt she could feel my massive, hard cock rubbing against her ass cheeks as I held her breathlessly close. I could smell the shampoo she had used to wash her hair that day, as the warmth of her body rose up from the top of her head. I was so turned on, I started to pinch her pert nipples and slap the sides of her tits. She cried out loudly, so I placed the palm of my hand over her mouth to silence her, and then moved it down to her neck and squeezed firmly and menacingly at her windpipe.

“Ssshhh!” I whispered as I continued to fondle her tits, digging my fingers into her skin as I enjoyed the feel of her supple mounds. She could feel my breath on her neck as I leaned in and stared down her cleavage, watching her delicious breasts wobbling around in my fingers. They truly felt fantastic, and I would have happily stayed there for hours playing with them, had it not been for her constant struggling.

“I’m not done with you yet!” I said as she tried to bolt for the door. I pulled her back, grasping at her waist as I pushed her back down on to the bed. She squealed for mercy as I climbed on top of her back, and then started to peel her top up over her head. I pulled her arms up and held them above her head while I pulled the vest up and discarded it on the floor. She lay on the bed with her arms wrapped under her chest, preserving her modesty. I wanted to see those juicy tits, though, so I rolled her on to her back and pulled her arms open to expose them.

They were even more beautiful in the flesh than I had imagined – perfectly round and just enough to fit in my hands. I held her down and started to fondle them some more, rolling my thumbs around her nipples and pinching them sharply as I pulled them away from her body. Then I began to slap them from side to side, and as I watched them repeatedly jiggling back into position, my cock became almost painfully hard. She spat in my face, with a small blob of saliva landing on the side of my cheek. I wiped it away carefully and stared gruffly in to her eyes, and then slapped her across the face.

She recoiled in horror, turning her head away for a moment before looking back at me. A tear formed in her eye, but she was clearly excited on a sexual level. She was fighting the urge to shoot me a wry, dirty smile. I slapped her again, firmer and faster that time and across the other cheek. I slapped her a few more times, making her cheeks red from the impact of my hands. Saliva spilled out over her face, and I let go of her body for a moment while I undid my tie.

She watched me remove it, trembling on the bed and glancing at the door to plan her escape route. She wasn’t going anywhere, though, and I rolled her on to her back again and forced her wrists together. I wrapped the tie around them, binding her arms securely so I could have some fun. I slowly removed my shirt as I watched her ass shuffling off the edge of the bed, and pressed my foot on to it to keep her from moving any further.

Her ears pricked up when she heard the jangle of my belt buckle as I unfastened it, removing my trousers and boxer shorts to free the enormous, throbbing cock within. With all of my clothes nestled in a small heap on the carpet, I crouched behind her and started to feel her ass through her tight jeans, smelling the crack and running my fingers in between her legs as she moaned lightly.

I couldn’t wait to see her bare ass, so I reached underneath her waist and unzipped the denim flaps, before yanking the jeans down her legs to reveal her sexy little thong. I pulled the jeans away, turning them inside out as they gripped to her legs. She remained huddled over the bed, and I leaned in and felt the warm skin as I pressed my lips up to her ass cheeks.

I gripped the sides of her thong and peeled it down her legs, allowing it to rest around her knees while I moved back up to play with her ass some more. She was still making the occasional move to get away, and each time she bolted I lashed a fresh smack over her now bare ass cheeks. Red hand marks started to form on the soft, delicate skin as I peeled them apart; exposing her tight little anus and her dripping wet labia below.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was gagging for it. I buried my face between her legs and began to lick passionately around her pussy, lapping up her juices as she groaned with pleasure. I continued to spank her, and every time I cracked my hands over her ass, she let out a fresh painful shriek. As I ate her out, I moved my hand up and started to massage her clitoris with my fingers, rubbing her flowing juices all over it as I flicked my tongue over her pulsating vulva.

I moved up and began to lick at her ass hole, prodding my tense tongue around the incredibly soft puckering rim. I lapped up and down her crack, pulling her cheeks as far apart as they would stretch and causing her anus to open up slightly. I spanked her again, even harder and she whimpered pathetically. Then I had a fantastic idea.

I untangled my belt from the waist of my trousers and looped it around. She looked back and gulped, bracing herself for what she knew was to come. I pressed her firmly down on to the bed, pushing her arms even tighter against her back, and then I thrashed her ass with the belt. A thunderous crack sounded out and echoed off the walls as she squealed in agony. I didn’t wait for the pain to subside, and immediately lashed her again and again. Her ass was red raw and started to turn purple as faint blotches of bruising appeared. I moved down and smacked it over the backs of her thighs, each impact sending a fresh set of ripples rolling over her flesh.

“Are you sorry? I don’t believe you!” I kept stating, not letting her answer. She could barely speak through her agonised groans, but her pussy was wetter than ever. I dropped the belt on the floor and positioned myself behind her ass. As the pain subsided, she started to sigh with relief. I pushed the head of my cock up to her pussy lips, rolling it up and down between them before plunging my rigid girth deep inside her.

She gasped and strained her neck out in front of her as she let out a loud, ecstatic moan. I started to thrust it in and out of her pussy, slowly at first as I coated it in her pussy juices, and then faster and harder as I became better lubricated. Her labia stretched around it nicely, contorting sideways as my penis passed through them. As I fucked her I continued to spank her ass, causing her to yelp in between her breathless panting. The sight of her arms bound behind her back had transformed me in to a wanton sex beast, and I didn’t care about anything other than fucking her as hard as I could. Every single other thought and consideration in my life was second to brutalising her and obliterating her pussy right there and then.

I pounded her as hard as I could, still bending her over the side of the bed. Her head rocked back and forth on the duvet helplessly under the force of my powerful thrusts, and she had given up trying to get away. She had become completely obedient and was accepting her punishment gracefully. I quickly tired of fucking her from behind though, and I desperately wanted to play with those glorious tits some more, so I flipped her over on to her back again.

She grimaced as her weight shifted, trapping her arms underneath her body. There wasn’t time to untie her, though. She would just have to get used it. I grabbed her throat and squeezed, choking her for a moment as I kissed her lips, stroking her tongue with mine and smelling her sweet candy breath. My cock was throbbing like crazy, so I pushed it back inside her pussy once again and instantly began to fuck her vigorously as she bounced up and down on the spring mattress.

The springs in the bed were creaking like crazy under the weight of our bodies. I grabbed her legs and placed them flat against my chest with her ankles behind my ears, and watched my cock sliding deep inside her over and over again while her amazing sweet tits bounced around atop her chest. I pressed her legs forward and reached down to slap her breasts again, and she screwed up her face with every strike that landed across her soft skin.

The sound of my skin slapping against hers was almost as loud as the spanking I had given her earlier. We were both sweating and writhing together as I pushed her further onto the bed with each thrust. My cock was buried entirely within her pussy, penetrating her all the way down to my balls as she groaned in uncontrollable pleasure. I doubt she had ever received such a strenuous fucking, but she was loving every second of it.

I spread her legs wide open and leaned down to kiss her neck passionately, smelling the hair under her ears as my moist lips pressed up to her skin. The sound of her panting in to my ear just turned me on even more, and after a minute or so I could hear the unmistakeable noise of an impending orgasm. She wheezed and cried out in ecstasy as her hips began to tremble, and then all of a sudden the extreme pleasure took hold of her and her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.

I continued to pound her even harder, relentlessly fucking her wet pussy as she squirmed with gratification on the bed. It was only when she came down from her breathless climax that I remembered I was supposed to be punishing her.

She went limp on the duvet and tried to catch her breath while I pressed her thighs up to her chest, exposing her insanely tight little ass hole. I didn’t want to have to keep struggling with her, so I took the belt and quickly wrapped around her legs, fastening it just under her knees and binding them up to her chest. She hadn’t even noticed what I was doing as she was still coping with the aftershocks of her intense climax.

I crouched in front of her ass again and pushed her cheeks slightly further open— they were already well parted by the position of her legs. Her vaginal muscles were still contracting and causing her labia to pucker up as I leaned in. I stretched out my tongue and licked over her anus once again, tasting the pussy juices as they flowed from her vulva and down through her ass crack.

Her cheeks were still red raw and burning with pain, but I continued to lightly spank them as I licked around her ass hole, prodding my tongue against her rim for a little while. I ran my finger around her pussy lips, lubricating it in her juices before pushing it through her sphincter. She tensed up as she finally realised what I was doing, and started to grimace and moan anxiously. I slid my finger inside her ass hole and pulled it out repeatedly, watching as her hole enclosed around it.

I stood up between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock around her quivering, wet vulva for a moment, coating it in a mixture of spit and her juices as I had done with my finger. I pushed my dick up to her ass hole and started to nudge it gently through the small opening. Her rim stretched around my cock as I pushed it through, expanding the soft ripples of her anus to a smooth, gaping hole.

The juices and saliva squelched out around the sides of my cock under the intense pressure of her tight anus as I started to thrust it in to her rectum, tunnelling my way deeper and deeper inside. With each insertion I was able to gain an extra quarter of an inch and after a minute or so of gruelling ass fucking I was burying my cock balls-deep in her colon. “Ah fuck, yes Toji— shit shit, ahh! fuck me like I'm a slut!” She started to scream loudly with each thrust that I slammed in to her ass, so I slapped her face again, sending a trail of saliva across the bed. She continued to groan noisily despite my defiant slapping, giving me no option but to silence her.

I reached down to the floor and picked up her thong, rolling it in to a tight ball as I jammed it between her jaws. She tried to clamp them together, but I squeezed firmly at her cheeks to pry them open and wedged the screwed up knickers between her teeth, holding my hand over her mouth and pressing her head back down to the bed as I continued to destroy her ass hole. I heard her trying to squeal in pain as my cock slid in and out of her anus, but the sound was nicely muffled by my makeshift gag.

I knew the ultra-tight young ass hole was going to make me cum soon, so I fucked her even harder and a few moments later I felt a great swell inside my balls. I moaned and stretched my neck, and she could see the veins protruding from the skin on my neck as I started to pump my hot, milky semen deep in to her ass hole. The orgasm seemed to last for hours and the cum shot out of my cock endlessly, oozing out between the sides of my shaft and the walls of her rectum.

I removed my penis from her ass and watched the thick, white fluid seeping out of her asshole. It was too hot of a moment not to get at least a souvenir, so I picked up my phone and took a few pictures of her hot, naked body and her obliterated pussy and ass hole.

“So, have you learned your lesson?” I asked, leaning over her exhausted body as I unstrapped the belt and freed her arms from behind her back. Her skin was marked with red lines from the various spankings and the force of being tied up so tightly. She laughed and said “I’ll have to steal from you again as I enjoyed the punishment,” she smiled sweetly.

“Good. So, same time tomorrow?” I said, helping her to stand up from the bed. Her legs were like jelly and barely supported her weight as she rose to her feet.

“Yes sir.” she said in a subdued but slightly naughty fashion. She tried to hide her smile as she reached for her clothes, but I caught it regardless. I was worried that I had lost a great babysitter, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not only did I retain her as a babysitter, I gained her as a slave and that first encounter was just the tip of the iceberg.

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