rereading my own writing is just a constant fluctuation between "damn, girl, you wrote this? (affectionate)" and "damn, girl, you wrote this? (derogatory)"
Summary: Vi brings Caitlyn to the Undercity’s brothel with the hopes of getting some intel, but things go sideways quickly when they spot Silco. Worst yet, he seems like he’s looking for somebody. Panicked, Vi yanks Caitlyn behind one of the many beaded curtains.
“Time to blend in, Cupcake.”
OR: Vi and Caitlyn get carried away ‘playing the part’ in the brothel.
Warning: Smut. 18+. Minors do not interact.
Caitlyn’s back hits the wall hard enough that it knocks the breath out of her lungs.
She can feel how stupidly wide her eyes are as she tries to recover from Vi’s unexpected compliment – or flirt? – and how her own lips are parted in surprise. And it doesn’t help that Vi’s smirking as she steps forward, presses her palm against the wall and leans into her, so close that if Caitlyn lowers her chin, their noses will be touching.
Vi’s making the most intense eye contact, too, which is only making her more flustered, and she’s bent forward enough that her warm breath tickles across Caitlyn’s face.
Submitting this as part of @saccharine-darling's Leashed Collab!
Pairing: Cat-boy!Eren x Reader
A/N: MY BLOG IS A PLANET FITNESS. A JUDGMENT FREE ZONE. SO YALL WHO THINK THIS IS WEIRD BETTER STFU. LMAO
ANYWAYS we going with Eren’s grey eye and almost-black hair manga look today because I feel like it. Starting off Eren’s birthday month with a bang let’s fucking go <3
CW: (TW: HYBRIDS). CATBOY!EREN. heat cycles, pheromones, panty-stealing, masturbation, thigh-riding/humping, petting, somnophilia, fingering, nipple play, breath play, praise kink, Eren is a switch in this (starts kinda sub, ends up pretty dom), breeding kink/mounting, creampie, cum eating, oral (m to f), pet names (kitty)
Length: 6.2K
Don’t forget to vote for which fic deserves a part two! 💕
You always considered your life to be pretty ordinary. You work a boring office job close to home, close enough to walk to and from each day. You spend your evenings cooking simple dinners and watching reruns or movies (sometimes with a glass of wine, if an awful office day warranted such a treat). You meet with friends often enough, a normal social life by anyone’s standards. All in all, your life is decidedly normal. Boring, even.
Except for the one outlier that suddenly made itself the focus of your life the moment he sauntered into it: Eren. Nothing about Eren was normal. Nor was anything about Eren boring.
The first time you saw Eren, this cute little cat that was so dark brown that from afar it looked black, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. A piercing gray, exceptionally beautiful and contrasting to the dark fur. It was winter time, the streets blanketed with a thick layer of snow, and you wondered how this poor stray would fare outside alone. Your heart sank as you wondered if this cat would freeze to death outside.
So you beckoned it closer. It didn’t matter to you if you would be late to work that chilly morning – how could you in good conscience leave the poor little animal to die out here?
Funny enough, the cat was stubborn. It completely ignored you, prancing off to hide behind the fencing of another house. So you continued to walk to work, hoping to find the cat again. Maybe you’d bring it some food, or maybe next time you’d see if you could get closer and bring it inside. You took a few steps forward, and when you glanced around the cat stared at you from a distance, peeking out from the fence it hid behind. The more you walked, the more it followed. What a curious thing, too stubborn to come close but curious enough to follow.
It went on like that for several days. Each time you’d walk to and from work, you’d see this stubborn little cat follow-but-not-follow you, it’s icy eyes stalking you like prey, its body language more or less impassive. The cat acted as if it just happened to be walking the same way you were, as if the cat couldn’t be interested in you in the slightest. After a few days you started to leave out cans of cat food, but they remained untouched. After a few more days of that, you stopped, and decided to leave it alone. A stubborn cat can’t be forced to do something it doesn’t want to do, you figured.
But then one day it was freezing as you walked home. The morning wasn’t so bad, but the temperature dropped suddenly throughout the day. You walked home, doused with a light sprinkling of snow, your arms crossed over your chest as your body shivered and your teeth chattered. You caught sight of the little cat you’d come to see each day. Poor thing looked like a dalmatian with its fur covered in splotches of snow. And for once, the cat came closer to you. As you walked, it stepped in line with you. For a couple of blocks you let it walk side by side with you in silence.
Then you stopped suddenly, and the cat looked up at you curiously.
“Decided you wanted to be friends today?” you asked the feline as you looked down at it. It’s pupils dilated and its tail curled in your direction, ears twitching as each snowflake landed on their surface. It didn’t make a sound.
You crouched down to your knees, and moved your hand up to give the cat a pat on the head. It stood still as you pressed cold fingers to the fur between its ears. Then it hesitantly tilted its head, leaning into your palm. Adorable.
When you touched the cat, it was cold. Poor thing was probably freezing. You asked it, “Why don’t you come inside with me for tonight? You’ll freeze to death out here.”
You didn’t expect an answer, of course, mostly speaking the words out loud to yourself. But the cat seemed to understand you meant well, following you the rest of the way home. And when you opened the door to your home you had to suppress a giggle, because the cat practically made itself at home in no time, jumping up and curling into your couch like it owned the place.
The cat kept its distance but was always in eyesight. When you made dinner, it watched from the countertop (despite you telling it to get down. Stubborn thing). You were surprised that after dinner, the cat allowed you to bathe it in the sink. But it was surprisingly clean for a stray, not that you made much note of it. Although it would let you bathe it, it wouldn’t let you dry it, the cat running off to a corner of your place to lick itself clean for quite some time that evening.
After that the cat kept you company. When you sat on the couch and watched a movie, it sat on the opposite end. And when you went to bed that night, it curled up on the opposite corner of your mattress. It was a nice change of pace, to have this cute little animal follow you around like a little shadow. And it went on for a few days: this cycle of the cat eyeing you from afar but keeping you company.
It was a few days after you invited the cat into your home that you woke up in the middle of the night to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. But when you arrived at the kitchen and turned on the lights, you were greeted by the sight of a man. Naked. Chugging milk directly from the carton.
“What the fuck?!” You asked, your volume way too loud for 3 in the morning. But you didn’t care if you woke the neighbors, too frightened by the sight before you. “Who are you?”
But when the man put down the carton and turned to you, you noticed he wasn’t a man at all. He had anthropomorphic features: cat ears on his head, a long black tail, and what seemed to be rather sharp nails (claws?). But otherwise, he was human. All the other body parts were there… not that you needed to see those but you definitely did.
“The cat,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice, wiping away a dribble of milk with the back of his palm.
The cat… the cat?! The cat can talk… and it’s a man…what the fuck…
“Sorry, you weren’t supposed to see,” he spoke as he screwed on the cap to the milk carton, “I thought you were asleep.”
You forced your eyes back up to meet his (his toned and muscular body was rather distracting). They were the same icy grays that were prominent features of the little black cat. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like something out of a horror film. Or maybe a cartoon, one of those anime your coworker talked about sometimes. Whatever it was, it was fucking weird. Maybe it was just a nightmare and you were sleepwalking, you wondered.
“Why… what…” you were speechless, truly. How else were you supposed to react to something like this? You’re talking to a fucking cat.
To your disgust he put the carton of milk that he drank straight out of right back into the fridge. You winced at the memory that you had had cereal that morning using that very same milk.
He said, “I can change back if you want.”
Immediately you replied with a resounding no.
“I’ll explain later,” he said, eyes pleading with you, “but can I stay? I was freezing my balls off out there.”
Suddenly it clicked. The way some of your food had gone missing. The way your bed was a mess even though you made the sheets each morning. The way you bought a litter box but it went unused. The signs were there, unfortunately.
“So you’re the one who ate my leftover meatballs?” You asked. He blinked at you, his face saying that’s what you’re worried about?
“Maybe.”
“And my leftover salmon the other day?”
“Definitely. It was delicious.”
“And my tofu salad?!”
“Unfortunately,” he grimaced at the memory. Gross. “Can you lay off that vegetarian shit, it's gross.”
You scoffed, “That was my food. Hell this is my home! You creep, sneaking into a single woman’s house.”
“I didn’t sneak in, you invited me.”
You pointed to his body, “And get dressed, don’t walk around naked.”
He shrugged, “Didn’t bother you before.”
“Yeah, when you were a cat!”
“Okay, you’ve got a point.”
You huffed in annoyance. He was just as stubborn as his cat form. And after you did grab your glass of water, with his eyes trained on you and his head tilted as he silently stood there (exactly like he did as a cat, intriguingly), he moved to follow you back to your room.
“Stay here, kitty,” you told him, the kitty slipping out before you could help it. You hadn’t thought of a name for him yet, instead referring to him as ‘kitty’. Hell you didn’t even know if the cat was a boy or girl. But you knew now, for sure.
“But your bed is soft.”
“Couch. Now.”
Luckily he obediently listened that night, retiring to the couch while you locked yourself away in your bedroom.
The funny part was that, while at first you were quite sure you were ready to kick him to the curb, you couldn’t make yourself get rid of him. The winter was brutal and as he spent time around you, he seemed to be pretty harmless. He was rather quiet and observant, only ever making a comment here or there when you’d ask him questions. He told you about hybrids, how they usually just blend in with cats, but he couldn’t resist your invitation that freezing cold night. For some reason you humored him–you allowed him to share dinner with you, to lounge around the house, even to entertain himself while you were away at work (though he didn’t know much about technology but he could manage to work a TV remote. The nature channel was something he could watch for hours). For the most part he behaved a lot like a cat would: coming to you on his own terms, and being independent when he wanted to be.
Becoming roommates with a half-human half-cat wasn’t so bad. It took a few weeks of getting used to, especially since you couldn’t help but find him unnecessarily attractive. But slowly you learned to tolerate, even enjoy his presence. And slowly but surely, he came to enjoy yours too.
For several weeks the arrangement was pleasant: Eren (yes, the cat-man had a name) could be a bit of an annoying cat sometimes (knocking things over, ripping papers, and other irritating destructive behaviors), and a lot of times he had quite the attitude and wit about him, but overall he was the definition of clingy.
He’d want to sit in your lap, he’d let you pet him, and definitely he wanted you to scratch his ears. Hell, he’d beg for you to scratch him under the chin too. You knew to an outsider this would seem ridiculous, comical even, the way this 6 foot tall hybrid would ask for your attention, but Eren became quite affectionate quite quickly. You’d even go as far as to call him a lapcat, with the way he’d wedge his way into your lap as you watched TV, his head placed right on your thighs. He found himself loving the way you smelled, floral and just slightly fruity, enjoying how warm you were, the way your hands so gently pet his ears and threaded through his hair. You swear you felt him purring as you pet him, and as weird as it was, it felt so nice.
And when he asked if he could be let back into your room, you couldn’t muster it in you to say no.
You ended up cuddling him, despite him being larger than you in stature, his head buried into your neck and his tail wrapped around your waist. You absentmindedly touched his ears, so silky and fluffy, his purring into your neck growing louder with each passing second. You found yourself scratching him, right where the ears met his scalp, and on instinct his feet tangled themselves with yours, as if he was trying to stop himself from kicking them. For such a big guy, with those ripped abs and those big muscles of his, he was really just a big teddy bear, incredibly touch-starved and willing to give ten times the affection you’d give him, nuzzling into your touch and basking in the scent of your skin.
But as spring approached, there was one thing that Eren had yet to tell you about that overpowered his urges to cuddle and cling to you.
His heat cycle.
It started gradually. One day he was complaining that it was too hot (it was the tail-end of winter, mind you). He was practically sweating as he laid curled up in bed beside you. In the days after that he was spending 24/7 shirtless around the house (which was a dangerous image for you, and in turn, dangerous for him because he could smell the effect it had on you). You’d catch him spending quite a lot of time in the bathroom, doing god knows what. When he’d come out he’d be naked, claiming he ‘forgot’ about clothing. Perhaps he was teasing you, with a feigned smile of innocence painting his lips as his tail curved behind him in the air.
And when he’d lay in your lap on the couch, he’d started to get just a tad bit handsy, palms rubbing your thighs, face rubbing against your clothed tummy. You’d often find him pawing and sniffing at places that were much more lewd than just your thighs. Especially in his sleep, cuddled next to you, he’d fondle your tits or his fingers would palm over the crotch of your shorts. One night while you slept, he went as far as to rub his clothed arousal right against your ass, just until he released into his shorts. And then he disappeared for the rest of the night, drowning in his shame.
You knew what he wanted, but he never dared say it verbally. He’d feign ignorance in the morning and hide off in some corner, ripping papers to shreds in frustration. You let him, because if you voiced your attraction to a man who wasn’t entirely human… even the thought sounded insane.
As it got further into the first week of spring, you started to find evidence of his attempts at relieving himself: whether it be missing panties jumbled up in corners, soiled bed sheets, ruined pillowcases. Eren was an absolute mess. But he was too embarrassed to tell you about it, opting to try and take care of his problems on his own out of your sight.
Yet tonight, when you awake in the middle of the night, he is anything but out of sight. He’s already naked because he can’t bare the fabric against his burning skin, coated in a sheen of sweat. He’s rutting into the mattress beside you, desperate for friction. He’s just so hard and just so needy. His whining is almost pathetic, the way small mewls escape his lips with each thrust into your bedsheets. You’d never seen such a pained expression on his face before, and your sympathy combined with your attraction to him pushes you to take that step forward.
He doesn’t even notice you’re awake, and right as you're about to reach for him, your name leaves his lips in a broken whimper. He needs you. So, so bad.
His back is turned to you. You scoot closer, coming up behind him to press your chest against his back. He freezes, having been caught in such a naughty act, and even his ears flatten and his tail falls flat as he’s overcome with guilt.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, but you only reach your arms around his waist. He watches, stunned, as you take his cock in one hand and massage his heavy balls with the other. His body’s slick, coated with sweat and precum, and so damn hot, you swear you’d see steam if you looked hard enough. The second your skin made contact with his arousal, a cat-like hiss left his lips, as if you’d doused boiling water with ice. A sigh of relief soon followed as you thumbed over his slit, precum flowing out of his heavy cock like it was ready to burst.
“Eren, it’s okay,” you tell him as he leans back into your touch, “I’ll help you.”
But Eren knows that jerking off isn’t enough. It hasn’t been enough for days.
“I don’t think you can,” he says between shallow breaths. “I’ve tried this…it doesn’t h-help,” he stutters as you bring your fist back down to his base. His tail finds its way to wrap around your waist, and he turns his head back to see your expression. He expects you to be impassive, maybe even annoyed with him for his actions on your shared bed, but he’s surprised to see there’s lust in your gaze, hunger written on your face. Do you actually want to help him? You feel his cock twitch in your palm, the evidence that he’s aroused even at the sight of you, excited at the prospect of you wanting what he wants.
“What would help then?” You asked him. Your voice is barely above a whisper and you’re staring at his lips, and Eren’s not sure if he could control himself in this sorry state of his.
“I want to…” he starts, but his words trail off as he squeezes his eyes shut. You're massaging his balls to the same rhythm as you stroke him, and it’s too much to talk and handle the stimulation at once. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again it comes out as a desperate plea, “I need to be inside you.”
It’s not a surprise to you that he wants to, given the way he’s been touching you recently. Neither of you had expressly given a label to your relationship, despite its gradual increase in physical contact, but now that you were touching him, this was the first time you’ve ever reciprocated his advances. It’s because you want to too. You know you’ve wanted to, and seeing him like this just pushes you over the edge.
“Okay,” you tell him, a simple breadth against his lips, but that’s all he needs to hear. He closes the gap, leaning in to kiss you, groaning as you fist his cock while your lips mold against his. You almost expect his tongue to be rough, maybe even barbed like a real cat, but instead it's as soft as a human’s when it glides over your bottom lip, seeking entrance to your mouth. You allow him, swallowing his whines and sucking on his tongue.
Eren suddenly turns around, forcing you to let go of your hold on him, and frantically begins to peel off your thin sleeping clothes.
“I can’t wait–” he says as his lips trace your neck and his hands paw at your clothing, “please.”
You can hear the despair in his voice, the way his arousal physically pains him. When you’re finally naked before him he can’t wait, not a second longer. You straddle his waist, his body between your legs and his tail tapping loudly against the mattress. You can see him below you, damp with sweat and skin flushed the color of roses. There’s a layer of guilt written on his face: it's unspoken that he wishes he could take his time, but his body wills it naught. With his desperate cock soaked in his precum, he lines it up to your entrance.
You give him the reassurance that he needs by telling him, “I want it, Eren, please.”
It’s a stretch without the prep, but you sink down on him slowly, his hands deep in the fat of your thighs as he holds them spread apart. You mewl to each of his whines, and it’s only when he’s fully sheathed that he feels some relief. The warmth of your walls envelops his feverish skin like a snug blanket, one he needed so badly. For a moment he just savors the feeling, like a cool gel applied to a burn, the way it soothes him.
“It feels so good,” he says, words breathy, a grin teasing his lips. You lean down to place a kiss on his lips, “Fuck–so, so good.”
His reverence is endearing. Despite his argumentative nature on a normal day, right now he is nothing like that: he’s vulnerable, putty in your hands, just begging to use you like he needs to. And you’re ready to let him.
His hands leave your thighs, settling for the dip in your waist. Yours come up to his ears, and they twitch with sensitivity. You give them a quick rub over with your fingers, your eyes never leaving Eren’s icy gray ones, and as your hands come down to cup around his jaw and throat, he shivers just slightly, chills running up his feverish skin with your cool touch. He’s so sensitive in this state, that each time your skin brushes over his it’s like water poured over a fire. It causes a moan to rise in his throat that he harshly swallows.
He squeezes his eyes shut and groans once more when you grind your hips and clamp your walls down on his cock. You begin to move, just a few unsteady bounces on his lap, but it's nowhere near enough friction for what he needs. Eren brings his hands to your back and pulls you down so your chest is pressed against his.
“Eren?”
He places his feet flat into the bed and brings his knees up behind you.
“Can I?”
“Ah, okay. You move then, ‘Ren.”
Eren’s an obedient boy. He buries his head in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, your perfume, and just the slight scent of your sweaty skin, and he can't help but dart out his tongue, to lap at your skin like a cat would do to their mate. You don’t mind, allowing him to nip and lick at the sensitive spot at the base of your neck. It doesn’t matter to you what he does with his mouth – because now he’s moving.
“Mm, fuck– so tight,” he groans, his cock squeezed tight between your walls. It’s slow for a moment, as he pulls out and thrusts up back into you, his chest pressed against yours. With your fingers now deep in his dark tresses at the base of his neck, you tell him, “Feels so good Eren. Such a good boy.”
And he loves it. He loves when you shower him with praise. When you pet him, baby him, nuzzle him into your chest. Life on the streets is lonely, devoid of affection. And when it gets it from you? He just wants more, more.
“You like this?” He asks, punctuating ‘this’ with another rut of his hips into you.
“Yes,” you tell him, and when he pushes harder, thrusts deeper, you clench around him with a sob, “yeah, like that, please. ‘S So fucking good.”
He does exactly as you tell him: you ask for more, he thrusts just a bit faster. You tell him right there, he hits that spot over and over until you tell him to stop. The skin on your neck is tender from his biting, the flesh of your waist turns red from his harsh grip as he holds you still, but still nothing outweighs the pleasure he gives you.
The otherwise quiet bedroom is filled with the sounds of your harsh gasps and moans, his grunts and whines, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin as his balls, hot and heavy with cum, hit your skin with each thrust. He wants to last longer but he’s been needing this for so long, that soon he finds himself lifting you back off chest.
“Fuck, so good for me… been waiting so long for this,” he says, eyes never lifting from where you’re connected. He pushes your thighs apart further and begins to move much quicker, short shallow thrusts that have him hammering at your cunt and groaning with the satisfaction of finally having so much friction. You feel so damn full, like his cock is hitting somewhere deep in your belly, and each time he bounces you on his lap and meets you with a thrust of his hips, you punctuate such a connection with a loud moan. You’re close to your peak, but Eren is much closer.
“I’m gonna come,” he manages to grunt, the words rushed out of his mouth in the space between two deep groans.
You tell him, “Be a good boy and come for me, Ren, come inside me.”
“Ah—fuck—“ he sputters as he finally comes inside you. And it’s so much more than you expected, so much that it drips out after the first stroke, it soaks your bed sheets and covers your thighs and his tight abdomen in slick. His cock is painted white but still it’s achingly hard as he continues to push his cum into you with each thrust.
You move to get off, but Eren quickly flips you both over without separating your bodies. He pushes your thighs down against your chest, eyes determined and breath shaky. He gives you no room to protest.
“Stay.”
He pulls out, his body practically vibrating. Purring, you realize. Then he moves down to your pussy, still soaked and dripping, and he says, “Wanna make sure you cum.”
You begin to protest, “But Eren you don’t—“
He shuts you down with kitten licks to your clit, short flicks of his tongue over your sensitive pearl. Your thighs reflexively close around his head, but he pushes them away with his palms. His tongue slides down, till he reaches your entrance and he’s tasting himself, but he doesn’t care. The sounds are lewd in the still quiet of the early morning hours, slurping and sucking as he alternates between lapping at your cunt and clamping down on your clit. All the while you’re groaning, grinding your hips into the heat of his mouth. Maybe it’s something to do with being part cat, but he’s a fiend with his tongue.
You bring a hand down to his head, your fingers gripping into his hair between his ears as you pull him into your heat. His purring sends vibrations up your skin, making it feel like a vibrator as he sucks and whines against your clit. The sensation is unreal, and any reservations that you may have entertained about indulging in such an act such as fucking a hybrid were all but gone.
“Eren,” you whine his name as the beginnings of your orgasm begin to take shape under his tongue. “Oh, fuck, ‘s so good.”
He looks up at you with those steel gray eyes, pupils blown wide, and the vibrations coming from his body only get stronger as he watches your body writhe with the pleasure he gives you. The movement of his tongue only gets sharper with more purpose, teasing your clit until you feel closer and closer to your release. You jerk your hips and he understands, flattening his tongue so you can ride it at the rhythm you crave. And once you do, your hips rising and falling from the mattress as you grind against his face, you cum onto his eager tongue and he hums in satisfaction as he tastes you and what’s left of him. He grabs each thigh and pulls you even closer to him, to kiss and lap at your center as if to offer his gratitude for such a meal.
When you fully come down from your peak he releases his hold on you. As your chest heaves he sits on his knees, and when you look up you notice him. He’s still hard, still aching, still flushed and sweating. One round isn’t enough to quell that burning feeling beneath his skin. He needs more.
He’s looking up at you with those gray eyes of his, uncharacteristically pouty and desperate.
“So needy for me, kitty?” You ask him with a smirk and a teasing glint to your eye.
You should be exhausted, it’s the early hours of the morning, but instead there’s adrenaline rushing through your veins. This is taboo, what you’re doing now, something that you’d never tell a soul about, yet when you look up at Eren all you feel is the desire to keep doing it. Maybe it’s the excitement of something forbidden. Or maybe it’s the way you’ve come to crave each other’s warmth and company, that craving having you both reaching out for each other subconsciously. Or perhaps you do quite like him, much more than you're willing to admit.
Whatever the reason, when he leans down and replies, “Fuck, yes. Need you so bad,” you don’t deny him. You let him capture your lips in another drawn out kiss, tasting yourself and him on his tongue. You let his hands knead at your breasts and his hips grind against your thigh. You let him sink his fingers into your supple skin, his pointed nails leaving red markings just shy of drawing blood. He continues to kiss you, to trace the insides of your mouth with his tongue, to rub the essence of his cock on your thighs and roll his fingers over your nipples – all until suddenly it all stops. He whines against your lips. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it harshly. And when he lets go, he suddenly asks you, “If I went rough on you…would that be okay?”
You blink out of the daze that his heated kisses put you in, your body still beneath his. Surprised, you say, “You’re asking me for permission.”
He nods. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it, Eren. I’m a big girl.”
You laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Hands and knees then,” he instructs, and you lift an eyebrow but comply. You turn around, your palms and knees digging into the sheets, back arched and legs spread, presenting yourself to him. But that’s not what he wants.
Instead, he reaches for your thighs and closes them together. At first you think it's strange, and you move to look back at him while you voice his name as a question, but just as quickly he reaches towards you and presses a palm down against your shoulder blades, pressing your chest into the sheets. You can feel his thighs on either side of yours, and his whole body follows, his chest hovering just above your back.
He’s mounting you.
You feel the tip of his cock prodding against your ass, slick and still leaking, still so heated and desperate to be inside you. And with how wet you already are, and how hard he is, it slips in your cunt with ease. He groans as his cock slides in between your walls, the sound low and guttural right behind your ear.
“Fuck, so wet,” he mummbles as he presses his fists into the sheets on either side of yours. Your body is surrounded by him. You're intoxicated by his smell and his warmth, his breath against your neck, the ends of his long hair brushing against your back. He hasn’t yet moved his hips, still inside you as your pussy clenches around him, adjusting to his size. Even if it's the second time, his girth takes some time getting used to. “So fucking warm,” he continues, and you swear his lips brush against your ear, “Wanna be buried inside forever–fuck.”
“Oh–fuck,” you groan as Eren begins to move, thrusting into you with harsh pointed snaps that send your body jolting forward. You can feel him latching onto your shoulder with a soft bite as he moves, in a way that can literally be described as animal fucking. Perhaps the first time he was just desperate to get off and let you take the reins, but now he wants to claim you, your body pinned beneath his strong muscles. His name escapes your lips in the form of high pitched whines and he’s reduced to the simple noises of moans and grunts against your shoulder.
“‘Ren, faster,” you beg, your head thrown back against his shoulder. He’s hitting a spot inside you that has you mewling, and you want more, the angle of his thrusts absolutely mind-boggling. You’ve never been in a position like this and you’re staring to wonder why the fuck havent you tried it before.
“Shit, yeah I’ll give you more,” he says, his words breathy with his exertion. He digs his knees into the mattress, his hands coming to clamp down on your shoulders. And suddenly he’s absolutely fucking you, maybe fucking is even too light a word. Perhaps aiming to destroy you. Because his hips snap at a manic pace, skin slapping skin so violently you’re sure your ass will be flushed and sore by the end of it.
“Fuck, this ‘s better?” He asks, panting, a hand releasing your shoulder to pull you back by your hair instead. You tilt your head back and lock eyes with Eren. They’re almost entirely black, grays completely lost and consumed to desire. If there was ever a time in the last few weeks that you thought he was more animal than human, it had to be right now.
You try to nod against his hold, unable to even use your throat at this rate, focusing solely on trying to capture each breath that he forces out of you with each impale of his cock. Each kiss of his cock head to your cervix stung in the best way possible, racking sobs and staccato breaths your only way of vocalizing your pleasure.
He feels you squeezing on him as your breaths get shorter and shorter.
“Gonna cum on my cock? Damn, I feel it,” he groans. You’re so close, milking him now. He squeezes his hand lightly around your throat, and he whines as you come apart around him and squeeze his cock oh so tight. You sob his name as you cum but he only continues to mercilessly jackhammer into you, chasing his own high. He loses whatever hold he had on human language, relegated to primal grunts and mewls against your shoulder as his thrusts into you become uneven in pace. Each snap of his hips is harder, harder, and then suddenly they’re slower, until finally he pauses with a sigh of relief as he cums. Even though he’s already cum before, this one somehow is even stronger for him and still loaded with copious amounts of his seed–he continues to lazily thrust into you even as his release trickles out and down your pressed thighs.
For a moment he stills as his cock still twitches with the last aftershocks of his orgasm. Once he finally pulls out, you both lay back down into the sheets, your back flat against the mattress and Eren curled into your side. He’s purring and nuzzling against your skin, the vibrations a gentle hum in the otherwise silent room. Neither of you say anything as you both catch your breaths, bodies slicked with sweat and drenched in cum.
That is, until Eren’s the first to speak.
“Was that… okay?” He asks, and it sounds uncharacteristically timid.
He feels your chest tremble with a fit of giggles. You turn to him and as you lay face to face, an amused smile plastered across your lips, you feel the soft curl of his tail around your waist. Your eyes meet his steel ones, and they reflect his uncertainty. You quell them with the words, “Yes, Eren. That was good. Good boy.”
His grin matches yours before he tilts his head in your direction, closer to your hand. You already know what he’s asking for, and you thread your fingers into his hair, finding that spot right behind his ears that he loves when you touch. He nuzzles into you and for the first time since his heat cycle started he feels soothed, relaxed. You’re exactly what he needed.
He even almost drifts off to sleep under your warm touch. Then your hand smoothes over his hair and drifts lower. Out of curiosity, your fingers travel to the one spot Eren would never let you touch. His eyes are closed, so it comes as a surprise when your fingers run along the base of his tail. He practically jumps out of the bed, jolting away from your hand.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
“I just wanna feel it,” you pouted. Eren reasoned in his mind that after what you’d both just done, he could indulge you just this once.
He grumbles, “Fine. But don't scratch–”
Too late. Your nails raked along the skin of his tailbone, right above his tail, and instantly his body arched into yours. You grinned mischievously. It really was just like a real cat.
“Oh so you're sensitive there.”
“Stop scratching it or–”
“Or what?” His voice says stop but his body leans into your touch like opposite ends of a magnet, following every curl of your nails against his skin.
He replies by pressing his body right against your side, and you can’t help but gasp at the hard appendage that you feel rubbing over your thigh.
“Again?”
You playfully rolled your eyes as Eren nuzzled into your chest.
“How long is this heat cycle again?” You asked as his rigid cock brushed against your leg.
“...Two more weeks.”
Fuck.
-> Check out the Masterlist to read some more catboy Eren drabbles ❤️
nsfw — mdni, f!reader, link takes you to a spicy twt vid, exchanging “nudes”, teasing, male masturbation, gojo calls you a minx lmao, NOT PROOFREAD i literally wrote this in 5 minutes i’m so sorry
satoru gojo is a fucking tease. sends you videos of him palming his dick through his pants and will cut the video short right before he pulls it out of his boxers. always sends you a follow up text of:
pay up for the full vid baby ;)
of course, he's joking— even you know that, but you can't help but get a little annoyed at your boyfriend for leaving you high and dry. you’re almost tempted to send him five dollars for the rest of the video; to hear you beg for it is obviously what he’s looking for. satoru thinks he knows you well, thinks that you’ll play into his little ploy and send him 15 text messages pleading him for the rest of the video. the last thing he expects is for you to send a video back— this time, of you sitting pretty on your shared bed in his shirt, running your fingers over the thin fabric against your evidently hard nipples. his breath gets caught in his throat when you squeeze your breast and let it fall with a slight bounce.
satoru’s quick to pull out his cock, pumping it slowly and running his thumb over the slit to spread pre-cum over the length. the grip on his dick gets tighter when you go to lift up the shirt past your waist and past your ribcage, revealing the slightest bit of underboob— before the video gets cut short. he’s furrowing his brows and a groan leaves him as his head falls back against his office chair, the sound of frustration quickly replaced with that of pleasant disbelief. he sucks the pre-cum off his fingers before smiling mischievously to himself as he sends you his response:
you little minx. guess i’m gonna have to show you tonight what happens when you pull shit like that…
AN. Hi! This is a repost because my old account was accidentally deleted [silently crying inside]. Anyway, all likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, thank you!
M. List
Gojo knows he shouldn't mess with you; you were Geto's sweet little step-sister.
The other sorcerer would surely kill him for even thinking about laying a finger on you.
But the funny thing about rules is that Gojo has never been very good at following them, and you are just so cute, so pure, that all he wants to do is ruin you.
Especially in those flowy pastel sundresses you favored so much—the hem always tending to creep up your creamy thighs a little too high every time you moved. Or those thigh highs you'd wear as it started to get cooler out, the fat of your thighs spilling at the top looking so tempting for his hands to grab.
You may be a little oblivious to the way Gojo looks at you, but Geto is not. No, he can easily see the way Gojo eyes you when you walk into the room or how he unnecessarily draws you close whenever he tells you something—a wolf in sheep's clothing, some might say.
At first, he can brush it off because it's Gojo. But then he watches Gojo pull you onto his lap at a party with the light excuse that "there was nowhere else for you to sit."
Tch.
After you're tucked safely into bed, far away from the white-haired sorcerer, Geto warns Gojo that you won't be fucked and then tossed aside.
Gojo raises his hands in defense, signature cock-sure smile on his face. "She's your sister. I would never."
This is partly true because Gojo would never hurt you, and he knows Geto's threats aren't empty. But he still wants to fuck you; that little fact hasn't changed, though, for Geto's sake, he heeds his warnings... for now.
He stops showing up at your house throughout the week. Instead, he only comes over for parties where he avoids you with, to your annoyance, yet another random girl perched on his lap—her manicured nails trailing down, down, down to places out of your line of sight.
And his texts to you are short and seldom, never veering off-topic like he usually does:
"Hey, is Geto at the house?" -- Gojo
"Yeah." -- You
"Okay." -- Gojo
It goes on like this for weeks.
So it's not a surprise that the sudden distance from Gojo is something you instantly take notice of. And he has to stop himself from taking you right there in the hallway when you look up at him with doe eyes—the way you call him Toru, your pretty pink lips pursed as you ask him if everything is okay.
God, you are just so sweet.
He pats your head. "Yeah, pretty. Everything's okay."
You give him a syrupy smile from the nickname, happy to have his attention on you again. In the next second, your hand is grabbing his, tugging him in the direction of your room away from the party. "Come on, Toru. I want to show you something."
Gojo completely forgets that he's supposed to be keeping his distance—the girl he told he'd be right back to, still waiting downstairs.
None of that matters, though, not with your little hand in his larger one, your short skirt swaying around your hips as you lead him down the hall, all with the intent of you showing him something—his pretty girl on a mission.
And you definitely do when he has your skirt pooling around your waist, your soaking wet panties now on display for his predatory gaze.
"We shouldn't," he says with mock sincerity, glancing up from between your legs to watch you squirm underneath him. "What if Suguru finds out?"
"But I want to, Toru," you pout, stomping your feet against the mattress childishly.
"So spoiled," he hums noncommittedly just before pressing the thick pad of his thumb against the wet patch of silk above your opening.
You mewl, hips bucking up into his touch. It makes him chuckle at how needy you are, Geto's innocent sister looking anything but by the second.
"Have you ever...?" he asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you confirm it out loud.
You shake your head shyly, all brattiness from a moment ago gone as you mumble out a "no."
Hearing that simple word has all of his blood rushing to his dick, which is already half-hard from watching you parade around the party in your short skirt all night.
Gojo gives you a smile dripping with ill-intent. "That's okay. We can go slow, yeah?"
But slow is hardly the word you'd use for the way Gojo is now fucking you into the mattress, your walls fluttering around his thick length from your third—no, fourth orgasm.
A constant stream of fat tears rolls down into your temples, choked moans gurgling in the back of your throat as Gojo presses your legs closer to your chest.
"Aw, pretty baby, does that feel good?" he croons, attempting to catch the next set of tears with the wide pad of his thumbs. You're so breathtaking, even with mascara and remnants of his cum from earlier staining your flushed cheeks.
"S'good, Toru," you whimper, fingers shakily pressing against his stomach so that you can have a moment to breathe.
You've hardly had enough time to come down from your last high, and you are still too sensitive for the way his cock plows into you—every one of his thrusts stabbing a breath of air from your lungs.
"None of that," he tuts, easily grabbing your wrists and bringing them above your head. "How am I supposed to fuck you with your hands in the way?"
His next thrust you swear you can feel in your stomach, and Gojo groans when you clench down hard around him. "Fuck!"
"D-deep, Toru! Too deep!"
With his free hand, Gojo squeezes your cheeks to cut off your protests. He presses a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making you fall pliant as he works your wet, open cunt.
"Come on, be a good girl." Your gummy walls squeeze around him at his words, and he rewards you with another kiss. "There you go. I'm gonna fuck you nice and hard, and you're going to take it for me, yeah? I promise I won't cum in you." He grunts. "Promise—"
But he does, over and over again until you're nice and full with his sticky seed.
All thoughts about being quiet are out the window when you begin babbling for more, begging Toru loudly not to stop. "Shh, we might get caught," Gojo says with a little smirk because he already knows Geto is outside your bedroom door.
You were so intent on getting Gojo to your room that you forgot to shut your door all the way, leaving a large enough gap for anyone to see what the both of you were doing.
But your eyes were too far in the back of your skull to notice your brother with cum dripping down his fist after listening to his little sister get her brains fucked out by his best friend—his cock twitching in his hand from your cute whimpers. Gojo looks over at him with a sly grin before dipping his hips into you again, giving you exactly what you asked for.
Maybe later Geto will have to teach you what happens to sisters who don't listen to their big brothers.
