Merle Dixon x Fem!AFAB!Bookworm!Reader || Smexcerpt
Plot: A certain genre always always always turns you on and the only other person who's always in the library with you- is dirty, surprisingly intuitive, Merle Dixon.
Warnings: Smut. Public/Library sex. Age difference. Pussy eating+riding.
Merle's mouth on your cunt felt like heaven. And something about the dead silence around you made it even better, like you could let slip a moan any time and someone could see this.
Your fingers dig into the arms on the comfy library chair you're slumped in like a puddle so hard the carpet-like fabric feel will definitely leave a numbing imprint behind on the pads of your fingers long after you let go. Every time he sucks your clit, starting out gentle but getting harder and crueller every time, you want to scream. All you can do is throw your head back on your neck and grind yourself against his mouth. You started out biting your lip and chewing the inside of your cheek, in a desperate attempt at keeping quiet, but you're losing it. Now your mouth hangs open, dangerously close to making sound.
All you want to do is moan his name. You think his name would be so fun to moan and beg. Merle. Or Dixon. You like them both, or you just like him. Nevertheless, you cannot, under any circumstances, do what you want. Not here!!
But when he rubs his mouth against you, searching for better purchase, searching to breach your pretty pussy deeper and make the sweet lil bookworm cum all over his face, you almost do. Luckily you've done this before with him, and you're practised at silence, but every time this happens its getting harder. Merle Dixon... You like him.
You really have to invite him over soon- to see your books, of course. And fuck you in a bed so you can be loud with him, scream his name, and he can say all the dirty things you know he's thinking.
Merle takes note of your throbbing, dripping state then and gives your heated pussy a delicious lick over the top, for good measure. Pulls his face away, an inch or two. "Babygirl, you're gonna kill this poor old guy."
You cover your face out of embarrassment, but that only seems to make him worse.
He gives your hip a harsh pinch and you have to bite your lip again to keep from moaning when the pain shoots right to your core, and it feels good. "C'mon, up y'get."
Lost in a drunk stupor, you give a nod and merely hum. Yeah, okay. You know what comes next.
Merle settles into the armchair you vacate, spreads his knees like he has a foot and half rock hard to account for, and the sight of the bulge in his jeans make you drip down your bare thigh. Maybe it isn't a foot and a half but he's more then enough. You cant believe simply reading a book in a library got you here.
When he reaches in between his thighs, cups it and gives a squeeze just looking at you, like you're the sexiest thing the old man has ever seen in his scummy life, it feels like he's torturing you more then he is himself. "... oh god Merle." You sigh, breathless. Needy.
With a smirk, the bastard put a finger in front of his mouth. "Shhhhhhhh. C'mere, baby."
You do not have to be told twice.
Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his worn old jeans have become second nature for you by this point, and they're gone before long at all. Then you're sinking down on his fat dick. You used to close your eyes for this part, just enjoy the stretch, but Merle's facial aerobics are far too good to miss and you can do both. He looks like he hasn't had pussy as warm or wet as yours in decades, his big hands squeezing your hips to his so he can feel all of you. And he can barely contain himself, moaning a little through tightly closed lips.
"Shit, sweetheart... if you don't start now I'm gonna just fill this pussy up. Cant help myself."
The thought occurs to you that in another world, you would let this man spill in your cunt without a second thought. You could be reckless. But since you're not, and you cant be, you don't tease; you set your hands on his shoulders and raise up above his cock again, before grinding down on him for a second time. Again, so your clit rubs against him. Again. And again, until you build a momentum and ride him seamlessly. Squeezing his dick tight in your throbbing cunt, covering him in your slick, making it drip down to the chair cushion.
When you get close to cumming, you have to cover his mouth and he covers yours, little sighs and grunts escaping when you're so close to bursting. Even if the librarian caught you now, you're certain you couldn't stop. He's too good, his cock- he- the creepy old bastard. stretches so good. so thick, so deep- you want him so bad--
He holds off until your orgasm rolls through your body, strangling his dick in your heat so tight Merle has to grit his teeth to stop himself whining for you. His head drops back on his neck then, grinding his hips up into you one last time, lovin the feel of your sweet cunt milking him so damn good. Gently, you lean in and put your lips to his neck; suck a hickey into a his skin.
Soothe him through his own orgasm.
Another moment passes, then he pats your butt and you tiredly lift yourself off him, so he can paint your thighs white. You watch his face, and smirk. You just know he makes the best noises, when allowed.
You are absolutely going to invite this old man over to your place.
“I'm sorry sir” you whined as Erwin landed another smack on your ass.
You had been having an attitude with him all day long and he was absolutely sick of your shit. He stripped you down to your panties, bent you over his knee and decided to teach your young bratty ass a lesson
“I can’t hear you” he said sternly as another smack landed on your ass.
Tears were running down your face and you struggled to speak.
“I’m s-sorry sir! Please forgive me” you said as you sobbed.
He smacked your ass harshly a few more times before he finally stopped.
“Are you going to be a good girl now or do I need to punish you some more?” he asked as his hand rubbed the spot on your ass that was now sensitive from all the spankings.
“Yes sir! I promise I’ll be good!” You said while still crying.
His hand made its way to you cunt and he rubbed your clothed clit.
“You promise?” He said while slipping your panties to the side.
“Yes sir, I promise” you responded.
He slipped a long finger in your cunt and started fingering you while you were still over his lap. Your back arched from the pleasure and you bit your lip
He slipped in another finger and started fingering your cunt faster, causing your back to arch even more. His long fingers were hitting your g-spot.
“Oh fuck” you whine.
He looked down at you with a satisfied expression, he knew he was about to make you cum all over his fingers and he loved it.
Erwin never thought he’d fuck you often like this but he wasn't complaining. He loved the way you were spasming around his finger and he knew his dick could do so much more.
“I-I'm about to cum” you said.
As soon as you spoke he removed his fingers causing you to gasp. You looked up at him with a shocked expression.
“You're not allowed to cum yet” he said sternly.
You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, he’s never once denied you an orgasm, even though, you couldn't deny it turned you on even more.
He slid your panties down and started playing with your clit. You felt your orgasm build again as he rubbed small circles on your swollen bud. Your legs started to shake and you knew you couldn't hold on any longer.
“Please let me cum sir, please: you whined as tears formed in your eyes.
He didn't respond, he just looked you in the eyes without saying a word. You knew better than to disobey so you tried your best to hold in your orgasm but it was getting harder and harder to hold on.
He continued playing with your clit and tears ran down your face. Your legs started shaking and your started begging.
“Please sir please! Can I cum please” you whined.
He looked down at you and shook his head.
“You're pathetic” he responded “you may cum”
You screamed out as your orgasm washed over you and you squirted all over his fingers and lap.
He roughly pushed you off his lap and onto your knees on the floor in front of him.
He lowered his pants and his dick sprung out in front of you. You licked your lips at the sight of it and all you wanted was for his to stuff it in your slutty little mouth.
He rubbed the tip on you bottom lip smearing it with his pre-cum.
You opened your mouth to let it in and a harsh smack came across your face
“I didn't say you could have it yet” he said as he stroked it in front of your face teasing you.
You looked up at him and apologized, tonight was going to be a long one...
eren : eren fucking you in a skirt , mutual masturbation, ride him just like that, slow and hard backshots, he missed you so much, he feels so good like this huh?, he thinks you're so cute when he overstims you, angry sex
armin : armin fucking you in his dorm , nerdmin getting his first blowjob, tying him up and making him please mommy , letting him feel mommy's pussy , reverse cowgirl , pegging your good boy for the first time! , distracting him from studying , making him watch you ride it
jean : picnic date with jean got out of hand , making out + jerking him off , he loves making you cum on his fingers first , he likes how small your hand looks wrapped around his cock in this pic , just take it , he can always make your legs shake, he can't control himself around you , they don't call him horseface for nothin
reiner : all those muscles won't stop him from being such a pathetic boy, sitting in his lap always ends up like this, he loves eating your pussy, fucking you on his desk, fucking his cum back into you, he promised he'd make it fit, who knew such a big man could be so whiny? shh its okay, he's got you
connie : he loves thrusting in your mouth like this , he loves when you use his cock like this, you're so pretty with a mouthful of his cock, you never knew connie could fuck you like this, he can go so deep like this, prone bone with connie, this is why he loves when you come over, you wore his favorite thong
levi : "even when you're like this, there's no reason for you to be sloppy." , slow easy morning sex, ask nicely and you might get what you want, this is what happens when you can't stop squirming, hands behind your back, you just couldn't wait until the two of you got home, could you? standing sex, cuddle fuck!
erwin : you disrupted him while he was at the office, feel each and every one of his thrusts, it's okay he knows you can take it, fucking you in front of the mirror, he didn't say turn around, did he?, one of his favorite ways to stretch you out, maybe this will make you listen to him next time, how you welcome home your commander after a long day
a/n : i literally got sick a day after my bday pls accept this while i nurse myself back to health </3
Warnings: heavy kink, mentions of body image insecurity and jealousy, subspace, msub, kink, cum play and pure filth bc Armin is a kinky fuck, mentions of porn.
[A/N: Another one down! It took a while but I’m pretty pleased. Feedback is always appreciated!]
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Slumped. He’s boneless and pliable, he drags himself to lay on top of you in search of your praise and affection. He’ll keen and shyly bury his face in your chest when you tell him how good he did and how pretty he looked doing it.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Armin likes your legs. He’s a leg man, but he likes every part of you truthfully. He likes to lay on your thighs while you pet his hair, and he’ll slowly start to kiss over your skin. He likes your hands, and often imagines them around his throat or your fingers inside of him while he’s watching you do everyday tasks.
Armin likes almost nothing about himself. He has some body image issues, which calls for some praise and worship if you ask me. Someone’s got to show this boy he’s beautiful.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Armin is a little freaky, it goes without saying. He’s a bit of a cum slut. He likes when you make him shoot his load all over his tummy, he likes when you dip your fingers into it and pop them in his mouth.
He cums in large amounts, it all but pours out of him like a faucet. It’s not thick or super gooey, mostly thin and watery. It gets everywhere if he isn’t careful in aiming.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Armin is a pillow humper, he gets excited and can’t help but stuff his pillow between his legs to grind into it softly. I mentioned this in another post, but all that soft stimulation makes him extremely sensitive to deliberate touching, and he will cum in seconds, shaking and crying the first few times you get your hands on him.
Just wait until he starts sending you videos of himself hugging a plushy or pillow between his thighs, hunched over and trembling as he rubs the head of his cock against the fabric, soaking it in his release. 🤤
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
None at all. Absolute virgin. Armin hasn’t even so much as had a first kiss when he meets you, not because he’s undesirable, but because he’s awkward. He doesn’t know how to talk to people he finds attractive, if you’re in a relationship with him it’s likely because you’d known each other a long while.
But it doesn’t take long after the first kiss for him to start fantasizing about touching, being touched, and though he likely won’t initiate, he’s delighted when your make out sesh finally leads to grinding and slipping hands under clothes.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Armin likes classic missionary when he’s feeling romantic, prone bone and doggy (both giving and taking)
He loves the Amazon position, and I think this one was the pipeline to his obsession with pegging.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
The first few times are giggly and awkward, but the more comfortable he is with you, the more he loses himself in the pleasure. His eyes glaze over and he gets weepy and whiny, but he does smile a lot when he’s feeling extra good
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
It honestly depends. Most of the time he keeps it trimmed, and every now and again he will shave it bare, but a day or two later he’s complaining about the prickly feeling and going on about how he’ll never do it again. It never gets out of control though, he would easily become self conscious of it if he let it get too long.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
He likes it rough, but that’s not to say he isn’t intimate. He’s a hand holder, he likes to cling onto you and press himself into your skin as close as he can get. He smacks his lips against yours in messy, sloppy kisses while he moans into your mouth. Praise makes him throb just as easily as degradation, he’s such a good boy, and he looks at you like you’re his lifeline.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
If you’re not with him and he’s suddenly horny, he’s stuffing his hand down his sweats in an instant. Several times a day if he’s feeling extra needy, and he likes to take his time with it, slow strokes with one hand while the other massages his balls.
He has an oral fixation, so he’ll suck on his fingers and imagine they’re yours, and sometimes he’ll kick his legs up when he’s feeling kinky and bring his fingers down to dip past his rim for some extra stimulation.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Pegging- and really anything anal related. When Armin discovered prostate orgasms his life was changed. He says they feel stronger, like a full body experience. He has such a cute ass too, it’s a treat to be behind him while he’s taking it face down in the bed.
Degradation and humiliation- he wants to feel like he’s less than you, just your toy to play with, and to destroy when you’re angry.
Bondage- Armin loves to be restrained and rendered helpless, blindfolded, gagged. It really sells the “I’m your toy” act.
Dirty filthy talk- the vulgarity that comes out of this sweet angel faced boy’s mouth will have your head spinning. “Use me, fuck me, come on, harder” and “I want you to _insert the most insanely filthy thing you can imagine_”.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Everywhere and anywhere within the walls of your home. The kitchen making dinner, the bathroom on his knees, giving you head like a good boy while you get ready, on the couch watching a movie, in the laundry room on top of the washer. Anywhere is free game, he’s always yours when you want him.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Everything? Your lips, your eyes, your hands, your voice. The fact that you look at him and want him like that in the first place. The way you look doing household chores, the firmness and unwavering confidence in your voice when you send back your burger because you asked for no pickles. Armin is enchanted by you.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There’s not much he would say no to once he’s comfortable with you. If you bring a new idea to him he often meets it with genuine enthusiasm and curiosity, and knowing you’re thirsting for him enough to want to find new things to do to and with him gets him excited as it is.
If I had to choose something, I’d say aside from public sex, things like sounding make him a little nervous but it’s not a hard no. Age play is a hard no and the idea of cuckholding makes him violently jealous.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
This man eats pussy like it’s his last meal on death row. He takes munch to a whole other level, breakfast lunch and dinner, Armin is always ready to bury his face between your thighs. He’d happily suffocate himself between your folds, and die very, very contented. Almost all of his fantasies revolve around your thighs caging around his head, gazing up at you through long lashes while you praise him softly.
He’s good at sucking dick too if you’re amab, for a man with very little to no experience, he’ll have you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. No gag reflex, he probably taught himself how to turn it off just for giving head. He’ll happily let you fuck his face of course, he’s quite the masochist.
Armin doesn’t care much if you want to go down on him. He’ll let you touch him however you wish, but he’d much rather be the one putting his mouth to work. He gets so drunk off your sounds and your fingers carding through his soft hair, he’ll start grinding up against the nearest surface just for a bit of friction.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Baby likes it rough, especially if he’s the one taking it. If he can form coherent sentences, you’re not fucking him hard enough. He wants to be reduced to a crying, drooling mess, especially when he’s been stressed out recently. There are definitely times when he prioritizes romance and sensuality, but Armin loves a mean dom, and it shows.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Absolutely yes, all the time. He’s so sensitive anyway, if you aren’t trying to drag it out he can and will cum in minutes. While he isn’t too fond of public sex, he definitely enjoys the thrill of a time limit. Bend him over or give him a quick suck while you’re cooking, a quick morning fuck before you leave for work. He says likes a challenge, but it’s not really a challenge to get him shaking underneath you in 5.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
It depends on the risk you’re wanting to take. He’s terrified to get caught in public, so there’s no way he’d willingly agree to that, but he’s pretty kinky, so within the walls of your bedroom there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to please you. Especially if it’s something Emasculating or embarrassing, humiliation gets him off embarrassingly fast. This means things like feminization, pet play (making him eat out of a bowl or sit in a dog crate), chastity, cum eating, guided masturbation, pain play, and even omarashi (to an extent) are all on the table.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
This boy has endless stamina it seems, he can go and go and go for hours on end. When he’s extra needy, his erections won’t really even start going down until the 2nd or third time he cums. He loves overstimulation, even though he’ll cry and whine and say it’s too much.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Probably…more than likely, he owns some of his own. Bullet vibes, pocket pussies, vibrating rings, etc. I’m sure he doesn’t use all of them himself, but probably collects them in hopes you’ll get curious and use them on him. Especially the rings; he knows he cums quickly, so he’ll try anything with the hopes to draw the experience out as long as possible.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He absolutely would never, unless he’s having a day where he wants it rough and messy. Mostly, Armin lives and breathes to be praised, he would mindlessly agree with whatever you asked of him just to hear the words “good boy”. He just falls into the roll of your sweet little submissive so easily.
To be teased, is a different story entirely. Edge him over and over, ghost your fingertips over his skin, go in for a kiss and watch his eyes flutter shut in anticipation, only to pull away and leave him confused. He loves to be reduced to desperate tears.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Shamelessly loud. I wrote in one of my headcannon posts that you could never discreetly have sex with Armin. He gets far too lost in the experience to really be aware of what noises he’s making or how loud he’s making them, but luckily you can quiet him down and satisfy his oral fixation by stuffing his mouth full of your fingers.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Armin has wet dreams a lot. He doesn’t dream every night, but when he does, 60% of his dreams are about sex. You can always tell because he’s so spacey the next morning, thinking about what happened in his dream. Sometimes he really wants to tell you about them in hopes to recreate them, but he gets too shy and backs out.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Armin isn’t big by any means, about 5 and 1/2 inches with a pretty, soft pink tip. He doesn’t curve, but when he’s fully hard, it points upward at a nice angle. Extremely sensitive, even a breath of air makes him twitch. It’s so cute too, the way it throbs and twitches against his belly when he’s laying there all horny and excited for you.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Armin isn’t just a closet pervert, he’s the closet pervert. Absolutely insatiable, he has sex on the brain morning and night and every minute in between. You cannot lie down horizontally together without him getting all hard and needy. I believe @ambassadorarlert wrote in one of their posts that his twitter saves are full of porn, and I second this, bby is into some wild things.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
The second he lays his head down and you start brushing through his hair with your fingers, praising him for how good he did and how well he listened, Armin is knocked tf out and probably won’t be up until noon tomorrow. He can’t help it, his balls are drained and he’s being doted on, what more could a man want?
ライナー ブラウン ༛ written by senpai with love
reiner thinking about you while touching himself, and he’s just so sad and so pretty :( .. he's in love with you, and he doesn't do a very good job of hiding it. you plague his mind, especially at night when he's all alone. you would take care of him, right? ↬ part ii
content. reiner straight jorking it and he hates himself, dacryphilia, ANGST, size kink, afab!reader is a marleyan warrior and described as smaller than reiner ; wc. 1.1k
notes. no one asked for this, but I needed it :3 might write one for eren too because I love sad, pathetic men !!
I feel like reiner is kind of mean to himself when he jerks off ..
like, he hates himself so much to the point where he doesn’t think that he even deserves pleasure, but he gets so worked up and so hard that he has to, because the problem just won’t go away on its own. and god, he is so fucking touch-starved. it hurts and he’s hot; his pounding heart making it impossible to sleep.
it’s past midnight at this point and his body is keeping him awake. his thick cock is throbbing in his cotton sleep shorts, begging for any sort of attention, any sort of friction, and he can’t stop thinking about you.
the way you hold his hand in yours whenever he needs affirmation, how you’re so much smaller than him. how you look up at him through long lashes and give him more attention than anyone ever has. the way you dote on him whenever he’s injured, although you both know full well that he’ll be healed in a matter of hours.
how much he hates whenever pock gets a laugh out of you. he’s so fucking envious of that man’s confidence, even though he knows you’re not into that stupid jaw titan. if you were, pock wouldn’t have wasted any time in reciprocating, regardless of the military’s rules.
he distracts himself a bit when his thoughts turn angry and annoyed, and then he shivers as he feels warm pearls of precum against his thigh. fuck, he groans, finally slipping his hand under the covers and he whimpers a pathetic little breath as he touches himself, palming over his shorts.
he hates his brutish hands, always terrified that he could hurt you without even realizing it. you’re so tiny compared to him and he knows that he’d hurt you regardless of how careful he is, how much he preps you, but he’d make up for it. he would worship you. his heart is hammering in his chest, he’s just barely squeezing his length, feeling his untrimmed happy trail prickle against his wrist.
he gives in and pulls his shorts down. he moans your name softly, cupping his pink tip and rubbing the silky slick between his thumb and forefingers. he tries to settle more comfortably into the pillows, biting down on his lip until he tastes blood.
he has literally no concept how of pretty his cock is. fuck, how pretty all of him is. he’s so big, his shaft feels like velvet and he has a blushy pink, defined head and it’s so sensitive. the veins are thick by virtue of its sheer size, at least eight inches when he’s hard and he’s a shower anyway. his balls are heavy and soft and he’s fertile — god pray for any birth control that tries to stop this man.
how would you touch him? would you be gentle, like usual? or would you treat him how he deserves once you’re alone, with careless pulls and rough touches? would you hurt him the way he wants to be hurt? scratching, biting, choking? would you think he’s disgusting? would you tell him that he’s disgusting?
his heart craves you to be soft, but he tells himself that you shouldn’t be. that he would treat you like a perfect little goddess, and he would be the ground that you walk on. that you would hate him, because you know that you’re so much better than him, that he would be so fucking lucky to have you like this.
he would kiss you as if you were single-handedly responsible for everything good that’s happened in this world, his tongue in your mouth and then all over your neck, your chest. drawing cute whimpers and needy whines from you as he made his way down, eating your pussy as if it were his only purpose in life. you taste so sweet and he’s gentle with his fingers until you beg for more.
he’s groaning louder than he realizes, his fingers softly crawling down his warm, thick shaft as he pictures you so clearly in his mind. on top of him. above him. perfect. unattainable. he squeezes the base, his other hand reaching for his heavy sack as he exhales softly, shakily. he’s kneading his balls and they’re so sensitive, and so full.
he pumps himself, pretending the wet, sticky sound is all you; riding him, claiming him, taking what’s yours. he’s so wet from spit and pre and it’s gathering at the base, sticking to his wrists and drooling down his sack. he wants you to lick him, to let your cute tongue clean up his slick mess while he praises you.
slow, torturous strokes. you shouldn’t even be touching him to please him; you should be using him, he thinks, he knows. your plush, pouty lips are too good for him but you’d take his cock in your mouth anyway, your angel eyes that he loves so much on him until he guides you all the way down, your cute nose against his pelvis and shoved in the blonde hair there, eyes fluttering as you gag on him. he’s whining, mouth dropped open, and he wants to apologize.
he feels so hot all over, and he just wants to cry. he’ll always be alone. he’ll die soon enough, anyway. his awful, murderous hands are the best he has, so he needs to make do. the tears fall before he can think to stop them. he lets his non-dominant hand do the work, gripping his big, veiny cock with his hand backwards to get a different angle. his back arches off the bed for a second, rolling his strong hips into his needy grasp, whining like a bitch in heat.
his thighs are spread wide, heels planted into the mattress so he can imagine that he’s pounding up into you. he gathers spit and tongues it into his palm, fucking his fist and desperately trying to pretend it’s your warm, tight cunt clenching down on him instead. using him. the only thing he’s good for besides killing.
his free hand is clawing at his abs before moving to grip the sheets, blunt nails trying to ground himself. his thick, muscular thighs are trembling and he’s already close. he’s whining into the stifling air, whimpering your name between “I’m good, I’ll be good, fuck, use me, please use me, just like that, angel, oh my god,”
he knows it’s going to be so much, it always is. he always cums hard and a lot. he’s in love with your voice, and in his head you’re begging for his cum. your dainty nails digging into his strong muscles, his massive hands on your waist while he pounds into you, holding you close. his face is in your neck and he’s crying, panting, whimpering sweet nonsense because you make him feel so good.
two knocks and the heavy wooden door clicks open. your small silhouette is just hardly discernible in the moonlight.
“… reiner? why are you crying?”
[ @slutsenpai ⨯ my masterlist ] — likes, reblogs & comments much appreciated! ◟♡ do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing anywhere for any reason
you didn’t really believe it when people said reiner braun, the golden boy of the varsity team was a loser. because, how could he be? he’s six-foot-something, beefy arms the size of tree trunks, and stoic features sculpted into a handsome face. surely, a man with his build had to be a cocky jerk, right?
you’d done plenty of dates before, so there’s no reason for the pit of your stomach to feel frenzied—except for the fact that when you open the door and all the lines you’d rehearsed in the mirror evaporate from your lips while he hulks in the doorway, a box of fancy aphrodisiac chocolates cradled in his giant palms, and only then do you understand.
this pitiful, sexy man didn’t think his absurd size, chiseled abs, and massive, veiny hands could turn you on all by themselves. no, apparently he thought he needed chemical assistance as he graciously holds out some bougie brand of aphrodisiacs you’d never buy, wrapped in gold foil with melodic cursive on the label and a stupid little ribbon perched on top, muttering something about how they help loosen you up before ‘the thing.’
he really didn’t think he could do that on his own, and god, it makes your heart clench and your panties churn, because look at him, this nervous mountain of a man standing in your doorway, all muscle and insecurity. if he only knew what kind of daydreams he single-handedly causes in lecture halls across campus. reiner awkwardly clears his throat, “uhm, they’re. . well, you said you liked chocolate, and these are some special kind,” he hurriedly explains upon seeing you curiously eye the box with a confused expression.
does this man genuinely think you need aphrodisiacs to even want him?
you feign a laugh, cocking a brow as your glossy lips purse into a thin line. he’s so gentle in his efforts it’s kind of adorable. you cross your arms over your thrifted cami. “y’really thought i needed those?”
you observe how his composure falters, lips parting as he tries to piece together an uncertain response. “i just thought—maybe it’d help, i don’t know. . i didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
“thanks,” you say, taking the little gold box right out of his hands and setting it onto the sofa as you walk further into your dorm. you glance over your shoulder, motioning him inside with a beckon of your finger. “you can sit,” you hum, “didn’t tell you to stand there.”
your dormitory’s relatively a mess while he settles into your ratty place, and you don’t even have to remind him why he came here as he’s already reaching for his wallet, the tawny leather resting beneath his large palms while he pulls out crisp hundred bills until the interior visibly empties, lending the cash out for you.
you blink down at them, “all of it?”
his head sheepishly dips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “if it’s not enough, i’ll get more.”
enough?
you almost feel bad—it’s probably his whole paycheck, maybe even next month’s too. and yet, he’s standing there as if handing it over isn’t already enough, digging himself deeper into a hole of debt. but then again, this is what he wants. you didn’t sign up to be sweet—you signed up to humiliate him. step on him. that’s what he’s paying for. you remind yourself this is some sick fantasy he gets off on, so you take it, slipping the bills into the padding of your bra. you shouldn’t like how it feels, especially since you thought you’d be intimidated by him—but if he’s nervous, maybe you can afford to play it cool.
“you’re too easy to use,” your eyes widen just a fraction before forcing them back to neutral as his shadow towers over you. “is that supposed to impress me?” you add, shifting your weight, fidgeting with your necklace while attempting to stay committed to this spoiled, mean girl persona.
reiner’s hazelnut eyes trail down your petite figure. “i- i don’t mind, use me. please. i can be better,” he croons, and fuck, you’re such an asshole for taking his money. “just tell me how to please you, angel.” he’s literally just a nice guy who wants to be humiliated, and the earnestness in his baritone makes your heart nearly leap out of your chest. you want to admit he’s already doing a marvelous job—but instead, your teeth nip your lip as you sink back into the couch cushions.
“start by getting on your knees then,” you hum, and to your surprise, this mass of muscle who plays varsity obeys without hesitation—knees thudding softly against the carpet. the sheer sight of him makes your pulse skip a beat in delight. his jeans pull tight across his thighs, denim straining over the bulge in his pants. large palms press to the floor, compliantly, and somehow, even kneeling, he’s still almost at eye level with you.
“when they said reiner braun was the biggest loser on the varsity team,” you exhale, tongue thick in your mouth as you swallow around the saliva pooling in your jaw, your finger hooking gently under his chin. “i didn’t think they meant. . like this.”
he looks up at you through his lashes as you shift forward on the couch, inhaling deeply to calm your own jittery stomach. your clammy digits hover over the little gold box on the couch beside you. “if you’re that desperate,” you mumble, almost choking on your syllables. peeling off the foil and guiding the aphrodisiac past your lips, “sniff my panties,” allowing the chocolate to melt on your tongue without swallowing, “mutt.”
a loud hitch escapes you, heat flaming your cheeks as your thighs part on instinct—never in your life has a man been this close to you, let alone kneel between your legs. his face buries itself there, the tip of his nose pressing against the damp lace of your panties, and you practically jolt at the intrusion. the vibrations of his groans make your ass lift from the couch as massive, calloused hands grip your thighs and pull you down, and the pure degeneracy of him inhaling your sweet nectar has your brain automatically short-circuiting.
he pulls back just enough to speak as his dewy lips brush your inner thigh, “please, angel,” he softly pants, “i just wanna know what you taste like,” and hearing that come out of him, and as those words leave his lips, your lungs stop inhaling oxygen altogether.
your head wags up and down. “y- yeah. .” your voice wobbles as you blurt out, “you can pull ‘em aside.” you force yourself to lean back on your elbows, gripping the arm of the couch for leverage as reiner’s burly fingers hook under the gusset of your panties, tugging the fabric to one side. the cool air hits your bedewed slit and your limbs tense, goosebumps prickling up your skin when he shoots a thick glob of spit right onto your folds—followed by the warmth of his tongue burying into your folds. a lewd mewl slips past your lips before you can even retain your sounds as you stare down at the man wide-eyed as he laps at your syrupy cunt.
“such a pretty pussy,” he grunts, pulling the hood up as the suave heat of his mouth envelops your tiny bud and your elbows barely hold themselves steadily. fuck, fuck, fuck. he laves at your entrance and the sensation make your head tip back, a cascade of profanities flowing out of your lips.
“god, you’re so—fuck, doin’ so good,” you moan, clasping a hand over the lower half of your face. his eyes flick up to meet your gaze and you mentally curse yourself because no, no, no! you’re not supposed to praise him. “y- you’re still so pathetic,” you splutter, long nails clawing into the leather couch. “don’t think this means anything. you’re just—hnnn—convenient.” your act lasts maybe a second or two before you sell it, his biceps flexing under your thighs as coarse palms grope the fleshy fat of your ass.
“you’re so squirmy,” reiner incoherently mumbles into your cunt, voice slurred from how deep his mouth is nestled between your slimy folds. the vocalization of his hum has your thighs clamping shut around his head, yet his hands forcefully pry your legs apart, nose nudging your clit as his lips wetly work over your cunt.
“slow down,” you plead aloud. his digits encircle your entrance and your hips buck as he eats you out with a hunger so intense that little specks of color prance across your blurry vision. “fuck, reiner, not there!” you gasp, hauling yourself up straighter and tugging at his blonde locks hard enough to make him groan again. you jerk your hips away on instinct, trying to create space between the two of you from your own heightened sensitivity.
“stop movin’ so much, ‘m not done with you, sugar.” reiner’s hands reach for your ankles, yanking you down the couch as your pussy slides right under his mouth again. caught off guard, you attempt to thrash your hips to the side but his mean grip pins in place. his lips go back to your bundle of nerves, slurping up your arousal as your torso arches upward, pelvis grinding into his fuzzy stubble.
his eyes roll back and you bite your lip to stifle a whine as he obscenely munches on your pussy. the soft scrape of his bristly scruff scratches your inner thighs, and you shift, one leg dangling off the couch, foot brushing the furniture you’re half-sprawled across while reiner seizes it. he grinds your foot against the swollen ridge of his jeans, and rubs himself along it, hips rolling with a muffled grunt against your throbbing core.
“k- keep going,” you squeak as his tongue flicks across your clit, and you let out a trembly little “mmph!” his blond hair sticks to his sweaty forehead as you trap him between your thighs. reiner looks like a huge, jacked puppy who’s making out with your sopping pussy and apparently getting off on it. “y’r such a dumb dog,” you hitch, pressing your legs tighter, “hnn, only g- good for this, huh?”
reiner’s response is a broken groan that makes your thighs quake, needily humping his erection against your foot, dick pulsing in his pants. “y’er so embarrassing,” you stammer, fingers tightening in his hair at his dizzying suctions. then he alternates techniques—and he’s suddenly chewing your clit, waggling his head side to side like your poor, overstimulated nub is some dog toy as his teeth nip at your bud, sparks of bliss zipping up your vertebrae. “ngh. . g’nna cum, rei!” you squeal, hips thrusting aloft as your spine slams flat onto the couch.
“shit!” your orgasm explodes, splattering across his face as your squirt drips down his chin and soaks the collar of his henley, tiny dribbles of your spill running along the defined protuberance of his throat.
he pulls back, just enough to breathe, lips glistening, and the full span of his palm engulfs your entire pussy as his thumb rubs down your slit. “cum for me, baby,” he sweetly coaxes, hips stuttering against your ankle as he finishes in his pants, a wet splotch marring the denim over his crotch.
your clit throbs under his fingers, and you swat his hand away. he slumps forward on his knees, panting, cheeks slightly tinged crimson as he watches you recover. your chest heaves up and down, body limply splayed over the cushions, trying to pull yourself together. “‘m still sensitive,” you hiccup.
reiner rocks back, steadying himself beside you, gingerly rubbing the back of his hand where you swatted. “. . jus’ wanted to make you feel good, peach.”
↠ summary: You learn very quickly that Levi doesn't like jealousy games.
↠ word count: 1,064
↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
↠ genre/warnings: smut, modern au, roughhousing, slight jealous/possessive! levi, kicking, NSFW (dubcon, degradation, bratting, boot kink, orgasm denial, dry humping, bsdm, slight puppy play [sorry guys you know me])
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
The door bursts open with a boom. Hand clutching tight on the back of your shirt, Levi hauled you in the room. Tossing you into the open space, he slammed the door shut with his boot, silver slitted eyes steady on you.
“Do you get off on pissing me off, huh?” Levi continued, prowled closer as you stumbled away, “you can’t even listen to one simple order.”
Trembling, you stood your ground despite his advancement. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
You grunted and crumbled to the ground as Levi kicked your ankle out from under you. Growling, you grappled onto his pants to knock him down with you. Using his knee, he thrust it upwards into your chin. You yelped at the slight pain and let go instantly. Lifting his foot up, he pressed into your shoulder and pushed you to the ground.
Your legs scrambled to get back up, but you were too late. Towering over you from this angle, he planted his sole between your breasts and applied enough pressure to make you wheeze.
“Want to try again?” He tilted his head, glowering down at your vulnerable form.
Clutching onto his ankle, you scrambled for an excuse. “I didn’t mean to.”
Wow, good one, you scolded yourself.
He quirked up a brow and applied more weight, “you didn’t mean to? So you think cozing up to Erwin wasn’t something you meant to do, just something that happened?”
You groaned out, nails digging into the leather of his boot, “I- I-!”
“I- I-” he mocked, “you what? Can’t keep it in your pants you got to flirt with my best friend?”
Releasing tension from your chest, you sagged against the floor releasing your hold. With the tip of his shoe, he traveled downward until it reached the apex of your legs. Thighs already spread, he planted his sole right on your clothed pussy. Pressing his heel into the slit, he grinded down. You flinched at the pressure on your clit.
Dragging his boot up and down, he continued on, “you think I don’t notice you eyeing him. Are you that much of a glutton for punishment you blatant disrespect me and make a fool out of yourself?”
Your breathing picked up as he dug into the bud harder, your jeans only adding more friction. “L-levi, please.”
“Now you’re begging for forgiveness?”
Nails digging into the floor, you resisted the urge to rock your hips against his heel. A pathetic whine breached your throat as you turned your head to the side in embarrassment.
Levi’s lip curled up in disgust, “you like this shit?”
Snapping your attention back to him, you glowered as best you could. “No.”
He tsked, obviously not believing you.
As if he touched something filthy, Levi released the pressure on your pussy and took a step back. Before you could sigh in relief, he grabbed a hold of your shirt and thrusted you upwards. Dragging you to the couch in the room, he threw you back on the ground.
“Stay.”
And like a good dog, you obeyed.
Sitting down before you, Levi knees bracketed your shoulders. Falling on the floor ungracefully, your head hung low as if you were ashamed. Almost.
Using the tip of his boot, he tucked it under your chin. Levi tilted your head to face him. “Are you going to listen, brat?”
“I always do.”
Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. Wordlessly, he released your chin. Grabbing a hold of your nape, Levi guided you so you straddled on of his boots.
“This is all you’re getting, be grateful.”
Confused, you tilted your head like a puppy. Guiding you, Levi lifted his tip of his boot to rubbed against your cunt. Shy all over again, you got the message. Pathetically, you let your legs fall more open, your clothed pussy humping against his shoe.
Clutching your own pants, you rocked your cunt up and down the laces, knowing better than to touch him without permission. He was already in a mood. Whining, your panties were already glued to your sticky slit. You wish you could do this bare, but you didn’t want to push your limits.
Keeping a steady pace, you grinded your clit into his boot. Glancing up, Levi had his elbow resting against the arm rest, cheek on his fist. He stared down at you, bored and uninterested. Like you were stupid puppy humping its owners leg. Though the analogy wasn’t too far off.
More whimpers fell out as your clit caught against each bump. Keeping your spine upwards, you rocked into him faster. Pathetically, you were already reaching your end. Your thighs started to spasm as you tried your best not to lean against him.
“Stop.”
You body paused at his curt command. You whined, hating how your orgasm started to dwindle away from you. But you couldn’t stop yourself from listening to his word. Your chest hiccuped, tears about ready to fall.
Levi stared down at you, waiting for you to calm down. As your breathing lulled, he lifted his toe into your clit.
“Keep going.”
Sniffling, you nodded your head. Reluctantly, you let your hips guide you. Unsure if he would pull the rug out from under you again, you hesitantly grinded your clit down on his boot. From the previous denial, your body was already worked up.
Rocking faster, puffs of air left your throat. Unable to help yourself, your back bowed and you rested your forehead against Levi’s thigh. More whines tumbled out as you kept humping against his boot, the laces catching on the bud. Your hands clutched onto his pant leg, wanting his comfort.
“Please, ‘m sorry. I won’t spoke or look at Er- him ever ever ever again. Levi please, let me come, please!”
Reaching his hand around, Levi gathered up your hair and pulled. Retching your head backwards, he held eye contact.
“That’s a big promise.”
“A-anything, just please,” you whimpered, ready to burst at the seams.
Levi nearly moaned. You were beautiful like this.
“You can come.”
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you spewed out.
Your hips lost there rhythm as more of you wetness spilled from your raw cunt. Whining out, came from Levi. Bucking upwards, you slowed your thrusts until you were able to sag against him completely.
Nerdmin! who knows you have a voice kink, so he leans close and whispers filth in your ear like he’s reading an academic paper. Calm, articulate, but utterly depraved. “You’re dripping down my wrist, sweetheart. That’s not very ladylike, is it?”
Nerdmin! who has a size kink and uses it against you—not with his body, but your reactions. “It’s too much?” he’ll say sweetly as he watches your cunt struggle to take his fingers. “Funny. You were begging for it just a minute ago.”
Nerdmin! who gets obsessed with overstimulation. He’ll make you come once just to “establish a baseline”—then keeps going with his tongue, fingers, vibrator, whatever he has—until you’re begging through tears. “Let me see how many times I can break you.”
Nerdmin! who switches between praise and degradation so fast it makes your head spin. “That’s my perfect girl. So smart, so obedient…” and then he’s smirking, voice low: “You’re such a fucking mess. Ruined. Sloppy. Disgusting, and still begging for more.”
Nerdmin! who uses mirror play like a study aid. He’ll fuck you from behind while forcing you to look, pushing your head forward by the jaw. “Watch yourself. That’s what I see every time I think about you. Ruined and cockdumb.”
Nerdmin! who uses breath play like he’s testing your limits—his hand wrapping lightly around your throat, not enough to panic, just enough to make your vision buzz. “You okay?” he’ll whisper, and then smirk when you nod. “Then take more.”
Nerdmin! who likes to edge you while he talks softly in your ear, one hand between your legs, the other holding a stopwatch. “You lasted one minute longer than yesterday. Good girl. Let’s see if we can beat that.”
Nerdmin! who has a corruption kink so bad it shows in his eyes. He loves how innocent you look under him—until he’s got you drooling, gagging, whispering filthy things he taught you. “See what I’ve turned you into?” he purrs. “Perfect little toy.”
Nerdmin! who makes you ride his tongue until your thighs are shaking and you can’t even sit up anymore. His arms around your waist, tongue piercing rolling nonstop against your clit while he moans under you like it’s his orgasm.
Nerdmin! who records your moans on his phone when he eats you out, labeled “Study Notes – Vol. 1,” so he can jerk off to them later when you’re not around. “You sounded so pretty, baby,” he tells you the next day. “I came twice.”
ear fucking church boy armin
in case you want biblically accurate armin noises
the church was quiet and empty, but what was left behind was you and armin. him and you often snuck off to the confessional booths, you both knew it was wrong—especially armin. he knew his parents would be very a disappointed pastor and first lady, but you were so addicting.
a strangled gasp left armin’s mouth as you pushed him down in the chair, blue eyes widening at the sudden wood feeling on his bottom.
you and him haven’t seen each other in a few weeks so you are being more aggressive than usual, not that he was complaining anyway. the sight of you towering over him? chef kiss.
he whines into your kiss, low and needy. his arms came up, wrapping around you and pulling you down to straddle on him. armin’s tongue slips into your mouth, rummaging between your lips hungrily.
one of his hands slides up your side, gripping your hips, pulling you closer—while the other hand moves slowly up your shirt, having his long fingers trace along your skin. in midst of the kissing, you find your way to his neck, causing him to let out a whine. a shiver ran through him as you kiss and suck at his skin, he could feel the heat in his pants getting hotter and hotter. “m..miss please.”
armin’s grip on your hips tighten—he lets out a shaky moan as his head hits the back of the wood. “more ..please .. please more.” and more is what you gave him—he jolts at the sudden grind making him plead for you more, his fingers clawing at your hips. “y-you know that's not what i meant!”
“use your words next time.” a broken whimper leaves his lips as you continue to grind on him. his hips bucked needlessly against yours chasing friction. while he’s distracted from the grinding, you decide to focus on his sweet spot—his ears.
you slowly lick the shell of his ear, going in a circular motion with a little sucking. just the way like he likes it. his hips jerk underneath you, and mumbling sounds spilling out as you tease his sensitive ear—his entire body tenses, “f-fuck—” fingers digging into your skin trying to secure himself with his hips still bucking against you uncontrollably.
“god, please—” voice cracking, desperate and barely audible. “k-keep going .. please, please don’t stop.” and stop you didn’t, you took it a step further now licking and fucking the inside of his ear. a broken yelp like sound tears from his mouth as you lick his oh so sensitive spot—his whole body jerks violently.
“w-why are you doing t-this to me!” he cries out, so sensitive—so raw. his fingers desperately claw at your back arching into you. “i-i'm gonna—i can’t—please..” he pleaded into your chest trying oh so hard to keep it together.
he chokes out some words as you grind down harder, the sensation blowing a fuse in his brain. you push him back down as he arches off the chair, fingers gripping your shirt and his hips of course still bucking desperately into you. “m-miss .. let me cum p-please it's been so long..” he begs as he clings to you. “no armin.” he can last a little more.
he growls at your words, no? how could you say no to him? you pull off his ear and look at him irritated. “did you just growl at me?” he looked at you like a puppy, “no n-no ma’am..” you pull his hair in response “yeah, i didn’t think so.” he whined at the pulling, still looking at you with hazy and desperate eyes, chest raising and falling rapidly. a thousand protest and pleas fell out of his mouth, starting to rock you back and forth. “i-i’ll be good please .. please i p-promise.”
looking down at him as he whined, you finally gave in—going back to fucking the inside of his ear again. “t-thank .. t-thank you miss .. f-fuck..” he stammered, trying to swallow the whimpers as he grinds against you.
and then you hit the right spot. he started bouncing his leg at the pleasure, “r-right right there, please p..please please.” he begged. he jerked wildly under you, tears formed in the corner of his eyes, “m-missmissmiss please i can’t—i can’t do this a-anymore..”
and just as he finished that sentence, he filled the small place with broken cries and whiny sweet nothings.
This is inspired by a tiktok posted by snk.rxn and fanart by @/tirajpg here on Tumblr! Originally posted on my main @/reinersluvrr.
Word count: 1.4k
18+ mdni; explicit language, thigh riding. Office siren CEO! Reiner x assistant! fem reader.
You really wanted to quit this stupid office job.
Not only were you on your feet all day long, but you felt the burden of being the assistant to Marley and Co.'s CEO, Reiner fucking Braun. He wasn't even a bad boss, he was great actually, but he was such a distraction.
A way-too-handsome distraction that kept giving you bedroom eyes everywhere you went. You swear he was trying to lure you in; one day it'd be two buttons undone to tease his toned chest, another it's a subtle flex of his arms while he's stretching.
Every time he called you to his office, he had his tie loosened around his neck, manspreading with his toned thighs bulging through his slacks, and a tight pinstriped vest layered over a white button shirt rolled up to his elbows. He would sometimes be leaned back in his chair with his arms lazily looped around his head -- and those hazel eyes would be eyeing you up and down behind those black, narrow-framed glasses.
How were you supposed to get all of these meetings scheduled and reports turned in on time if he kept this up? Yes, the pay was good, but all the late nights you had to spend overtime in the office with god knows how many coffees chugged down were catching up to you.
You were actually on the way to his office now, a newly finished report neatly tucked away in a file that you're carrying in your hands. Reiner called you again for god knows what, but you decide to bite your tongue; he's treated you well financially, so you couldn't be too upset.
Knocking on his office door, you announce your arrival.
"Mr. Braun, I have the report you requested."
There's a brief pause before his rumbling voice replies from the other side.
"Come in, [name]."
Like clockwork, you open it and step inside before you close the door behind you. As soon as you turn around, you saw that same lazy but confident smirk on his face in his usual laid pack position in his chair.
It would've been infuriating if he wasn't so damn sexy. The spread of his legs looked almost intentional, like he was waiting for you to sit on his lap in between his muscled thighs. The early evening sun filters in from his floor to ceiling windows, highlighting the teasing glimpse of his chest through the undone buttons of his shirt and vest.
He had no business looking that good just sitting there like that.
"Atta girl. But I told you to just call me Reiner."
He huffs a laugh, his eyes watching you place the file down on his desk with a sensual slowness.
“Mm, sorry.”
You yawn with a ghost of a smile, your shoulders sag but you straighten your posture; however, the fatigue doesn’t quite escape his gaze.
He knows you’re a hard worker, and the best assistant he’s ever had. Not only were you a sight for sore eyes with your tiny skirts, but your high work ethic made it easy to pay you well over the average yearly salary.
A pang of guilt settles in his chest. He realizes he’s been a bit of pain for you — constantly calling you in under the guise of business talk when really he wanted to admire you, and touch you.
If only you knew what he really thought about most days when he wasn’t on a phone call or at a business meeting.
Noting your current state, he pats his thigh as he spreads his legs a bit more, his expression a little more concerned but still casual.
“Come here, girl.”
A light shiver runs down your spine as you stand on the opposite side of his desk. You blink a couple times as his soft demand reaches your ears.
He noticed. Of course he did.
Knowing you can’t exactly reject him, you saunter around the wooden desk and hesitantly sit on top of his thigh. If you had more than half a mind right now, you would’ve made some sort of excuse to keep things professional.
But right now you couldn’t help but hum from the contact of his thigh between your legs. It’s been at least a couple of hours since you last sat down, so the reprieve was very much appreciated.
“Thank you.”
You murmur, scooting a little further up his thigh. The brush of thinly clothed muscle right there was enough to make you sigh, the sound making his blood rush south.
“Feel good, sweetheart?”
He bumps his thigh upwards, purposefully making you fall further into his chest with a gasp.
“Y-Yeah. Really good.”
Your hands rest on his shoulders, heartbeat loud in your ears and your cheeks flushing rouge as your pussy starts to throb beneath your underwear.
This was so, so wrong on so many levels — but for the last few weeks your body was in need of having some kinks worked out. Whether it was from the stress or from the occasional fantasies about Reiner, you needed something to help you relax.
Maybe that was what he was counting on this whole time.
With you in his lap, one of Reiner’s hands runs down your back to your hip — giving it an encouraging pull to keep going. The other sits on the top of your ass, giving your cheek a squeeze when you grind yourself down on his thigh. That pretty little whine you let out makes him groan in your ear.
He takes his glasses off as they start to fog up, throwing them unceremoniously on top of his desk. With another upward bump of his thigh between your legs, he lets one of his hands run up your thigh as your tight skirt hikes up your legs.
“F-Fuck, that’s it. Just relax and ride my thigh like it's my cock, sunshine.”
You gasp as your hips start to move a little harder, your pussy clenching around nothing as you slide back and forth against his thigh. It didn’t take long for you to soak your panties, the scent of your arousal making his cock twitch in his pants while he catches your lips with his.
His stubble scratches deliciously against your cheek as his tongue tangles with yours, muffling your moans and his grunts. It took every inch of his will power not to bend you over his desk right now and fuck the stress out of you, but not yet.
But then your hand reaches for his already loosened tie, completely ripping it off of him and throwing it aside.
Fucking Christ.
He growls against your mouth, his hand on your ass tightening its grip and helping you grind down on his leg.
“God damn it, [name]. I wanna feel you ruin these sweet little panties before I tear em off myself.”
His other hand that was on your hip slides beneath the waistband of your skirt, his fingers circling against the soaked fabric. He nearly moans when he feels how wet you were.
“A-Ah, gonna come. Wanna c-come all over your thigh—“
You mewl, back arching and hands clawing against his shoulders as your pace quickens. When a particularly sharp moan bursts from your mouth, he smashes his lips against yours to mute it. No one needed to find out their CEO was letting his assistant ride his thigh did they?
“Ha, don’t wanna give away what we’re doing in here, do you?”
He laughs, low and breathless as his fingers quicken their movements on your clit to double the sensations between your legs.
“Or do you want them to know that I’ve been aching to fuck my favorite assistant?”
“R-Reiner please, I'm about to..!"
With a quiet moan and a final thrust of your hips, his words tip you over the edge and make you come in your panties — right on top of his expensive slacks.
Not long after, he soils his pants with his own release as he groans against your neck. He can feel some of your fluids leak through the fabric as you gasp and pant near his ear, and he swears he can feel himself starting to harden again.
“Good fucking girl. Best damn assistant I could ask for."
He plants an affectionate kiss to your neck, licking at the sweat dripping along the curve as he pulls his hand out from your panties.
"Now why don't you strip down and bend over the desk for me? It's about time you get your bonus." He purrs as he begins to unbuckle his belt.
Looks like the idea of quitting might not be so appealing after all.
Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson x f!reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content.
Word count: ~1.2k
Summary: Sigtryggr allows his mind to run wild while ruminating upon the idea of penance. For the Kinktober prompt "impact play". A part of the Hymn for a Heathen universe, but can also be read as a standalone fic.
Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
The low burning fire in the hearth bathed her in a soft orange glow as she knelt before the makeshift altar. Sigtryggr reclined in bed, bare chested with one arm bent behind his head against the pillows as he quietly observed her. The prayer she recited was spoken too softly for him to make out the words, but it was not that that held his attention captive. His eyes raked over her nubile form, the silhouette of her body lit up through the thin cotton of her nightgown, the swell of her hips and bottom made more prominent when propped up by her bare heels. Sigtryggr was tightly wound with impatience, eager for her to finish her prayers so that he could drag her beneath the furs and add further to the sins which she would need to ask her nailed god to forgive her for.
The moment she climbed onto the mattress, he was upon her; he grasped her waist, pulling her against him and ran the tip of his nose along her jawline, making her giggle. When she finally stilled, settling herself against his chest as he idly stroked her hair, he drew in a breath, allowing himself to appreciate the warmth within their small home – not just the fire, or the furs they laid beneath, but the way the heat of her skin leeched into his. Glancing down at her, seeing how innocent she appeared, his lips curved into a small smile as his earlier thoughts returned to him.
“How does your religion punish so called sins?” he asked conversationally, toying with a lock of her hair.
Her eyes lifted to his, narrowing suspiciously. When he didn’t laugh, she lowered her gaze once more, her fingers stroking over the furs that were draped across his waist. “Well, there is penance, fasting and prayer,” she began, “for more serious offences there are pilgrimages, public apology and even excommunication.”
“Hmm,” the sound rumbled in his chest as he stretched languidly, tugging her hair gently to force her to meet his eye. “So, no physical punishments?”
Her brow furrowed momentarily in confusion. “None that I have seen.”
“So, you have never received a flogging?”
She gasped softly, clearly shocked by his question. “No, never. I pray to the Lord for forgiveness for all of my sins.”
“Even the sin of running away with a Heathen, of allowing him to defile you night after night?”
He grinned wolfishly at her, and her cheeks blazed with embarrassment as she ducked her head, pressing her face against his side to hide her shame.
“You should not say such things,” she muttered.
Sigtryggr chuckled, tightening his arms around her. “You know, once, back in Wintanceaster I witnessed a man dressed as a Christian priest being whipped by a whore in a pillow house.”
“Stop!” she scolded, swatting at his chest, and he laughed, gathering her against him before capturing her lips with his.
The fire had burned to embers, though there was still light enough to see how she undulated atop him, illuminating every wicked roll of her hips as she impaled herself over and over again upon his aching length, mewling wantonly as her eyes fell closed in pleasure and she braced her palms against his chest. Sigtryggr grasped her waist with enough force to bruise, panting as he guided her movements. His gaze raked from the bounce of her breasts to the place where they were joined, unable to get enough of her like this – she was utterly at his mercy, yet felt as though she had the control.
Letting go of her waist, he raised his hand, bringing the palm of it down upon the jigging swell of her rear in a sharp slap. She yelped, though more in surprise than pain, and he felt her inner muscles tighten reflexively around him.
She liked it.
He repeated the motion upon the other side, the crack of skin upon skin loud in the quiet gloom of their abode, and this time she moaned – a loud, almost animalistic sound that tore instinctively from her throat as her movements became faster and more erratic.
Sitting up suddenly, he hauled her off of him, ignoring her squeal of surprise as he manhandled her to drape face down across his lap. The weight of her body, poised bottom up over him, pressed his erection, still glistening with their combined arousal, almost painfully into his lower abdomen but he didn’t care. He was possessed by the idea that held his mind captive and needed to see it through to its end.
“What are you doing?” she whined, squirming feebly to free herself, but Sigtryggr held her firmly in place.
“Making you atone for your sins, Christian,” he purred in response, running his palm gently over the curve of her rear and the backs of her thighs.
He smirked as he heard the hitch in her breath and brought his hand down quickly upon the fullest part of her bottom, watching with satisfaction as the flesh jiggled with the impact, and turned pink. She cried out, her back arching, but she made no move to wriggle free again – instead she bowed her head in quiet acceptance.
“I want you to count them out for me,” he instructed her as his thumb rubbed soothing circles against the heated skin of her buttock, “can you do that? I think ten should be sufficient.”
She whimpered, but gave a weak nod, and something wicked glinted in Sigtryggr’s eyes at the total submission in her response. “So obedient,” he whispered.
And then he brought his hand down again, surprised and impressed when she started her breathy count from one, not having counted the first among the blows she would receive. He happily obliged, bringing the flat of his palm down again and again, each one slightly harder than the last. He watched in perverse fascination as her flesh bloomed red and her cries became louder and more wanton – her slick glistened wetly in the dying firelight, testament to her enjoyment of this. It made him ache to the point that he was almost relieved when it was over – it had been as much a punishment for him as it was for her.
Grasping her hips, he coaxed her onto all fours, the abused globes of her arse on full display, making his cock twitch in anticipation. When he pushed back inside of her, the glide was almost effortless, he had never felt her this wet before and it wrenched a groan, low and throaty, from him. The warmth and grip of her was exquisite. He had barely thrust an inch when she came, sudden and violent, her body shuddering as she tightened and spasmed around his girth. It triggered his own release, and he threw his head back, gripping her hips like a lifeline as he held her flush against him, jerking and spilling inside of her with a hoarse cry of pleasure.
Heaven, Valhalla, whatever it was, he had found it inside of her tonight, and he would gladly deliver punishment after punishment if it meant ascending to these heights once more.
Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson x f!reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content.
Word count: ~1.2k
Summary: Sigtryggr allows his mind to run wild while ruminating upon the idea of penance. For the Kinktober prompt "impact play". A part of the Hymn for a Heathen universe, but can also be read as a standalone fic.
Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
The low burning fire in the hearth bathed her in a soft orange glow as she knelt before the makeshift altar. Sigtryggr reclined in bed, bare chested with one arm bent behind his head against the pillows as he quietly observed her. The prayer she recited was spoken too softly for him to make out the words, but it was not that that held his attention captive. His eyes raked over her nubile form, the silhouette of her body lit up through the thin cotton of her nightgown, the swell of her hips and bottom made more prominent when propped up by her bare heels. Sigtryggr was tightly wound with impatience, eager for her to finish her prayers so that he could drag her beneath the furs and add further to the sins which she would need to ask her nailed god to forgive her for.
The moment she climbed onto the mattress, he was upon her; he grasped her waist, pulling her against him and ran the tip of his nose along her jawline, making her giggle. When she finally stilled, settling herself against his chest as he idly stroked her hair, he drew in a breath, allowing himself to appreciate the warmth within their small home – not just the fire, or the furs they laid beneath, but the way the heat of her skin leeched into his. Glancing down at her, seeing how innocent she appeared, his lips curved into a small smile as his earlier thoughts returned to him.
“How does your religion punish so called sins?” he asked conversationally, toying with a lock of her hair.
Her eyes lifted to his, narrowing suspiciously. When he didn’t laugh, she lowered her gaze once more, her fingers stroking over the furs that were draped across his waist. “Well, there is penance, fasting and prayer,” she began, “for more serious offences there are pilgrimages, public apology and even excommunication.”
“Hmm,” the sound rumbled in his chest as he stretched languidly, tugging her hair gently to force her to meet his eye. “So, no physical punishments?”
Her brow furrowed momentarily in confusion. “None that I have seen.”
“So, you have never received a flogging?”
She gasped softly, clearly shocked by his question. “No, never. I pray to the Lord for forgiveness for all of my sins.”
“Even the sin of running away with a Heathen, of allowing him to defile you night after night?”
He grinned wolfishly at her, and her cheeks blazed with embarrassment as she ducked her head, pressing her face against his side to hide her shame.
“You should not say such things,” she muttered.
Sigtryggr chuckled, tightening his arms around her. “You know, once, back in Wintanceaster I witnessed a man dressed as a Christian priest being whipped by a whore in a pillow house.”
“Stop!” she scolded, swatting at his chest, and he laughed, gathering her against him before capturing her lips with his.
The fire had burned to embers, though there was still light enough to see how she undulated atop him, illuminating every wicked roll of her hips as she impaled herself over and over again upon his aching length, mewling wantonly as her eyes fell closed in pleasure and she braced her palms against his chest. Sigtryggr grasped her waist with enough force to bruise, panting as he guided her movements. His gaze raked from the bounce of her breasts to the place where they were joined, unable to get enough of her like this – she was utterly at his mercy, yet felt as though she had the control.
Letting go of her waist, he raised his hand, bringing the palm of it down upon the jigging swell of her rear in a sharp slap. She yelped, though more in surprise than pain, and he felt her inner muscles tighten reflexively around him.
She liked it.
He repeated the motion upon the other side, the crack of skin upon skin loud in the quiet gloom of their abode, and this time she moaned – a loud, almost animalistic sound that tore instinctively from her throat as her movements became faster and more erratic.
Sitting up suddenly, he hauled her off of him, ignoring her squeal of surprise as he manhandled her to drape face down across his lap. The weight of her body, poised bottom up over him, pressed his erection, still glistening with their combined arousal, almost painfully into his lower abdomen but he didn’t care. He was possessed by the idea that held his mind captive and needed to see it through to its end.
“What are you doing?” she whined, squirming feebly to free herself, but Sigtryggr held her firmly in place.
“Making you atone for your sins, Christian,” he purred in response, running his palm gently over the curve of her rear and the backs of her thighs.
He smirked as he heard the hitch in her breath and brought his hand down quickly upon the fullest part of her bottom, watching with satisfaction as the flesh jiggled with the impact, and turned pink. She cried out, her back arching, but she made no move to wriggle free again – instead she bowed her head in quiet acceptance.
“I want you to count them out for me,” he instructed her as his thumb rubbed soothing circles against the heated skin of her buttock, “can you do that? I think ten should be sufficient.”
She whimpered, but gave a weak nod, and something wicked glinted in Sigtryggr’s eyes at the total submission in her response. “So obedient,” he whispered.
And then he brought his hand down again, surprised and impressed when she started her breathy count from one, not having counted the first among the blows she would receive. He happily obliged, bringing the flat of his palm down again and again, each one slightly harder than the last. He watched in perverse fascination as her flesh bloomed red and her cries became louder and more wanton – her slick glistened wetly in the dying firelight, testament to her enjoyment of this. It made him ache to the point that he was almost relieved when it was over – it had been as much a punishment for him as it was for her.
Grasping her hips, he coaxed her onto all fours, the abused globes of her arse on full display, making his cock twitch in anticipation. When he pushed back inside of her, the glide was almost effortless, he had never felt her this wet before and it wrenched a groan, low and throaty, from him. The warmth and grip of her was exquisite. He had barely thrust an inch when she came, sudden and violent, her body shuddering as she tightened and spasmed around his girth. It triggered his own release, and he threw his head back, gripping her hips like a lifeline as he held her flush against him, jerking and spilling inside of her with a hoarse cry of pleasure.
Heaven, Valhalla, whatever it was, he had found it inside of her tonight, and he would gladly deliver punishment after punishment if it meant ascending to these heights once more.
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