showering with your fav who gets embarrassingly hard when you accidentally squirt your cleanser that is the same consistency as his cum across your tummy or chest
not freaky but im so 💔 i have a secret f/o crush .. its not as serious as john ofc john is my husband forever and ever and ever, but its fun with my sidepiece f/o too but i cant ever talk about him romantically on my main/any social because i have a non sharing moot 💔💔 whoops 💔💔
lee shaw x fem! reader (monarch: legacy of monsters)
⁓1.9k words
coworkers to lovers, cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, marking, mentions of injuries, blood and alcohol (no consumption)
coming across mutos and titans, then having to escape them, always pumps adrenaline through your veins. billy and keiko had fucked off to do their own thing the day before, left you alone, and whatever they did had royally pissed off the critters that had driven you to take shelter in a small house you and lee had stumbled across.
at least the locks and windows held when the creatures tried to follow you in.
while the mutos were barely tall enough to reach your knees, they still were insanely annoying to deal with, to get rid of. both you and lee sustained some scratches from kicking and punching your way through, fending them off, until lee managed to push you into this hut and pressed himself against the door so it stayed shut until you barricaded yourselves in.
you have a few smaller scratches below your neck, by your collarbone, from when one of the mini-titans tried to latch onto your face and you luckily managed to divert its route before lee shot it off of you. he got left him with some scratches on his forearm, because even if small, they sure packed a punch.
so as soon as the crowd outside had dispersed, bored of fruitlessly scraping against the walls, and lee found a half empty bottle of liquor, he urges you to sit down so he can clean off the blood and use the alcohol to disinfect your wounds.
"why do they always get the fun part while we get stuck with cleaning up their bullshit," he mutters, and you laugh softly in reply.
"is it really that bad to get away from their constant cuddling and stay with me for a night?" lee glares at you, rolls his eyes, mumbles his answer when you just fix him with a playful grin.
"you know i like spending time with you."
you fall into relaxed, comfortable silence while lee concentrates on your chest, cleaning off the blood with gentle wipes of the rag he found and cautiously revealing the scratches the muto's claws had left in your skin. you're already glad enough that he let you clean his wounds first, considering he's usually way too stubborn to even show that he's injured, and the broken but dried bruise on his arms pulls slightly when he adjusts your top to reach the cuts better.
because you're looking up at the ceiling, head leaning back against the wall so lee has enough room to work and knees pushed together since his thighs bracket yours in order to be close, you don't see how much he struggles to stay composed. how much he fights to keep his eyes off your bared throat, the skin so pretty and smooth and just begging to be marked. bitten.
his breath comes out in a small shudder, and you hum, fix him even at the angle of your gaze, all droopy and tired eyes.
"need a break?" you tease even as you wince at a harsher dab of the fabric, and lee sighs. he can't give in, can't follow the desires that had built in his body and heart over the time of you working together and are all but ready to burst out.
"almost done," he huffs instead, busying himself with the small droplets of blood he missed so he doesn't pay attention to how he's basically straddling you. to how warm your body feels right in front of him. to how low cut your tank top is, even if he's wearing basically the same one.
"aww, wanna get away from me this quickly?"
lee's eyes snap up to yours, mischievous and matching the grin on your lips, and he breaks, comes close, almost nose to nose.
"don't fucking tease me like this, or-"
"or what?" you chuckle as if the sight of his stormy, dark eyes doesn't send jolts through your entire body, right to your core until it throbs.
you're quiet, he's quiet, his chest heaving as he musters you for any sense of reluctance. but you simply grin, take a step closer until your breath mixes with his.
"or what."
lee's restraint finally breaks, when he pulls you into a kiss that's desperate right from the start, needy and deep and all teeth. his tongue bullies its way into your mouth when you gasp, and your hands land on his soft stomach as you gladly reciprocate his kiss.
your top is gone quickly, pulled over your head with clumsy movements, and his follows suit once he pushes his suspenders down his shoulders. lee nudges you down onto the bed, still kissing you, only adjusting so he's properly straddling you on the creaky mattress, your legs around his middle after being pushed apart by his thick waist.
the second you bare your throat for him again, he moves to your jaw, your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse and making your back arch into his chest. he has you caged in beneath him, the tip of his nose nudging your head to the side so he can pull the skin of your throat between his lips and mark you as his, as he has wanted to for far too long. and even if you wanted this to be only one night, he's going to make damn sure that it'll be just as unforgettable for you as it is for him.
with one hand in your hair, he keeps your head still so he can nibble at your neck, move lower to where the scratches are so he can place a peck to the injuries and mark the skin right next to them with his teeth as well.
your hands are insatiable, running from his side, over his chest, landing up on his shoulder before tangling in his hair, tugging until he groans raspily at the delicious sting. his dogtags clink softly against your chest when lee leans in even more, nudges a broad thigh against your already fluttering core when he subconsciously grinds his hips down into yours.
you curse lowly, push him back so you can get air back into your system, and for a split second he's worried if he went too far, made the wrong call-
but your pupils are blown out, eyes dark and hungry, and you arch up so you can snap open your bra and pull it off your body. lee sits back on his haunches and helps you tug your pants off, dragging your panties right alongside them when you lift your hips to aid him.
his pants are next, belt unbuckled hurriedly and briefs bunched down just enough for him to line up with your cunt. lee halts, huffs out a sigh.
"need to prep you, baby-"
"don't care," you interrupt him urgently, hook a leg behind his back, push him closer until the tip of his already flushed dick presses right against your entrance. it sinks in ever so slightly with a shared moan from both of you.
with a few shallow thrusts, lee bottoms out, and the tightness of your pulsing walls around him punches the air out of his lungs.
you don't give either of you much time to adjust when you whine, buck your hips up, and lee shudders above you, trying desperately to keep enough restraint to not involuntarily hurt you. but you grab for him, beg him to fuck you, that you'll take whatever he wants to give you, and he groans. at a shaky first thrust, you moan, uncaring about the stretch still sure to make you feel sore come morning. your throat is bared once more, like an invitation to mark you up properly and not just with the faint hickeys he already left, and at realising that you're alright, he surges forward.
the pace he starts up is frantic from the start, too desperate to take things slow, especially when you meet his every grind and don't care when the zipper of his pants catches on your inner thigh, makes you yelp quietly into his mouth when he kisses you again.
he's all but rutting into you like an animal in heat, desperate and messy and frenzied when your heat engulfs him oh so perfectly.
"fuck, been wanting this for so long," he pants out into your mouth, lips parted and brushing against yours when neither of you can properly hold a kiss anymore.
"could've had me much sooner," you moan back, voice breaking when he changes the angle of his hips and the tip of his cock drags over your g-spot, and lee lets out a breathless, almost delirious laugh.
"right there?"
you nod quickly, fingers digging into his bare shoulders, and he already plans to wear only his tank top when you reunite with billy and keiko again - simply so he can show off the red crescents your nails are sure to leave. a hiss leaves him at the pain, and he drops his head to mouth at your neck once more, accidentally biting down a little too harshly when you clench around his dick and lock your ankles behind his lower back. it keeps him deep inside of you, no matter the fact that if he could have his way, he'd never pull out again, even if it restricts his movements.
neither of you care, too lost in the pleasure, and he adjusts his angle just enough to make your back arch almost painfully into his front until your chest meets his, the chain of his dogtags pulling taut between you at the pressure.
"close-" he warns you, and you whine softly when his hands rake through your hair, cage you in, pull your head back until he can pant into the bend of your throat.
"cum in me, lee, please!" you beg so pretty, so needy, that he can't help but falter in his pace. your words alone are enough to make the coil in him snap, almost violently and entirely too overwhelming.
lee comes undone with a rough groan of your name, and the feeling of his spend filling you up through frenzied thrusts, enough to push some of it back out and make your inner thighs glisten and stick to his, makes you follow suit. a weak "lee-" gets lost against the ceiling when his fingers tighten their grasp in your hair.
"fuck, fuck-" his forehead meets your collarbone, damp with sweat as even now he pushes through, rides out your high to make sure you feel as incredible as your body made him feel - no matter if it pushes him into a harsh overstimulation, has his thighs tremble in effort.
your hands, once on his chest, run up into his short locks to pull him up and into a kiss that conveys every single emotion you're feeling - lust, hunger, devotion. adoration. love. it's as much of a confession of feelings as you can muster right now, breath- and boneless underneath the man you'd been pining over for the past few months.
a low chuckle hits your ears when you properly come down from your climax, get the feeling back into your body, and you meet lee's warm, still dark eyes.
"go on a date? with me?" he asks softly, voice still raspy from his high as he comes down alongside you, can feel his dick soften inside your still fluttering heat. the feeling of your cum mixing with his, starting to seep out of your core, makes his heart skip a beat.
you smile, blissed out, and tilt your head as best as you can with him still holding it in place.
"gladly. stay like this?"
lee grins.
"gladly."
author's note: this is totally not my way of coping about ep 3
One second he’s spilling inside you with that raw, broken groan—shoulders shaking, breath stuttering, his whole body going tight as he buries his face in your neck—and the next, he’s slumping down on top of you, chest heaving, letting out a long, shaky “ho—ly shit…”
You’re still whimpering quietly beneath him, watching the aftershocks ripple through his muscles.
“Easy, cowboy…” you murmur, stroking his hair. “You okay?”
He huffs out a breath, exhausted and blissed to hell, and gives your hip the laziest little rub with his thumb. His smile is all dazed pride and disbelief at how hard he came.
Then he winces lightly when he starts pulling back.
“S’too sensitive,” he mutters, still breathless. “Just—lemme—”
But the second you feel him trying to leave, your legs lock around his waist. Your arms hook behind his shoulders. You drag him right back down into you—into the warm, soaked pulse of your cunt.
True jolts.
“B—baby—?” he rasps.
Then you whisper it against his cheek, soft and need-drunk:
“Don’t pull out.”
Everything in him stutters.
His hips jerk forward on instinct, pushing his half-hard cock deeper into you. His breath breaks on a quiet, strangled whimper, one hand gripping your hip like he’s trying to brace himself against the wave of overstimulation that crashes over him.
“Oh fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. “Oh—fuck, honey—”
He isn’t angry at you—he’s angry at the way your pussy can undo him, rip the breath from his lungs, make him lose his damn mind even when he’s too sensitive to think straight. It’s a helpless, frustrated groan, the kind a man lets out when he’s being pushed past every limit he thought he had.
You kiss the corner of his mouth, sweet and coaxing. “Stay with me… just like this.”
True lets out a shuddering breath, forehead dropping to yours.
“Damn, baby…” he whispers, voice rough and war-torn. “You’re gonna kill me.”
But he shifts, settles between your legs again, fitting himself closer—deeper—because you want him there. Because you’re holding him there.
And after a long, trembling moment, he starts moving.
Barely-there thrusts. Shallow. Slow. Careful. But enough to make him gasp into your mouth.
“You don’t… want me to pull out?” he murmurs, like he’s losing his grip just saying it.
You shake your head, tightening your legs around him.
And True breathes out a desperate, reverent:
“…okay.”
🏷️ ─── ‧ ˚ ꒰💌꒱ true will always give you what you want... ₊ ˚ ⋆
@witchygagirl @walkerofshield @yeetaliano @novfr @archangelswing @xojadeelizabethox @bartonsparrow25 @hesaidgirlyoubetterhavefun @ghost-ina-tree @katieandersstark-blog @theloverofstuff @reedusw1fe @inafieldoflilies @bizarrescribblez @kc-readsss
best friend! zook who talks you through giving him head bc you've never done it before and you trust him, but it feels way to good and he keeps losing himself when you're just looking up at him with wide, curious eyes and following his every instruction and ahh
Ი︵𐑼 a/n: this one is doing a lot to me actually. best friend zook has my heart!
۶ৎ 1.2k words mwah !!
ʕ·͡ᴥ·ʔ
The air in Zook’s living room feels heavy—charged with the kind of electricity that exists only before a storm, or right before you do something you can’t undo. You’re sitting beside him on the couch, close enough that your thighs brush. Denim drags softly against the thin fabric of his basketball shorts, a friction that feels louder than it should.
The conversation has been circling this point for twenty minutes now. Lazy teasing. Half-joking confessions. Your lack of experience set against his easy, practiced confidence. You feel the moment tipping, the atmosphere shifting like a weight settling into your chest.
“You really haven’t?” Zook asks. There’s no judgment in his voice—just curiosity, softening the sharp edges of his usual manic energy. He tilts his head, eyes searching your face with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. “Like… never?”
“Never.” you admit, barely louder than a whisper.
You trust him. Somehow, impossibly, you feel safe with someone who thrives on chaos. Zook has always been protective of you in his own way.
“Okay,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Okay. We can fix that.”
The implication hangs thick and hot between you. You don’t miss the way his shorts have begun to tent, fabric pulled tight. He’s half-hard already—just from talking, just from the idea of showing you. The realization sends heat straight through your chest.
Zook shifts, lifting his hips and pushing his shorts and briefs down in one smooth motion. He frees himself, and your breath catches hard in your throat. He wraps a hand around his cock and strokes slowly, almost sheepish. It’s vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen from him—bravado stripped away, replaced with quiet want.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet yours.
You nod, unable to look away. You’ve seen him shirtless a hundred times, but this is different. You’re really looking at him now. At the way his breath hitches when he notices your stare. At how fully hard he’s become, flushed and heavy in his hand, moving with a lazy rhythm that makes your heart slam against your ribs.
You slip off the couch and lower yourself between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet, its roughness keeping you anchored. When you reach out, your fingers tremble as they wrap around the base of his cock. He’s hot and solid in your palm, pulsing faintly.
Zook’s gaze flicks between your face and your hand, dark and unfocused. He grabs the hem of his t-shirt and bunches it up against his chest to keep it out of the way, exposing the happy trail down his stomach. His muscles tighten when you give him an experimental stroke.
“Fuck,” he groans, low and helpless.
You stroke him again, tentative, worried about doing something wrong.
“You can squeeze me harder,” he breathes. “You won’t break me. I promise.”
You tighten your grip just slightly and drag your hand up his length. His hips jerk off the couch, a guttural sound tearing from his throat before he swallows it back. You heard it. You felt it. The reaction sends a rush of confidence through you—heady and intoxicating.
You lean in and drag your tongue slowly up the underside of his shaft, tasting salt and skin. When you wrap your lips around the tip and suck gently, his reaction is immediate. His face scrunches, eyes squeezing shut as his hips buck, thrusting deeper into your mouth.
You pull back with a wet pop, giggling as you glance up at him. “I saw that in a video once.”
Zook lets out a breathless laugh, face flushing pink. He looks embarrassed by how his body betrayed him, but his eyes are warm, soft. “That was… really good,” he admits. “You’re a natural.”
Encouraged, you lean back in. This time you take him properly, movements unsteady but eager. You bob your head, awkward at first, then finding a rhythm. You hollow your cheeks and suck harder—and Zook’s smile vanishes instantly.
His head drops back against the couch, eyes rolling until they disappear. His breathing turns ragged, lips parting on shallow gasps. His hands twitch at his sides, lifting like he wants to grab you, guide you, take control—but he stops himself. His fists clench into the cushions instead.
He’s letting you lead. Letting you explore without rushing you, even as tension coils visibly through his body. That restraint—the care—keeps you going.
It starts to overwhelm him. You feel it in the way his thighs tense beneath your hands, muscles jumping. The heat of your mouth, the novelty of you kneeling here for him—it’s too much. His hand finally leaves the couch and settles at the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. Not forcing. Just guiding.
“Relax your jaw,” he murmurs, voice strained. “Easy… just take it.”
He’s unraveling. The cool composure he usually wears is slipping, piece by piece. Every time you glance up at him—wide-eyed, intent—he loses another shred of control.
“Use your hand,” he grits out, hips twitching despite himself. “The part you can’t take. Stroke it.”
You follow his lead without hesitation. Your hand tightens around his base, slick and warm with your spit, syncing with the slow pull of your mouth. The motion clicks into place—almost instinctive—and his breath breaks into an unrestrained gasp.
Something in you shifts. The innocence melts into focus, hunger sharpening your gaze. You feed off every shiver, every sound he makes.
Zook watches your face closely—the flush in your cheeks, the way you’re clearly getting off on this. On him. That’s what breaks him.
“F—fuck!” he gasps.
His legs tense, shaking. His chest heaves, stomach tightening as he fights for air. He’s in awe, staring down at you like he can’t believe this is real.
“I’m close,” he warns, voice cracking. “I’m gonna cum—”
You don’t stop. Your grip tightens, strokes slowing and deepening. He shakes his head frantically, trying to say something—maybe that he can’t hold it back, or that he’s about to ruin you in the most sinful way—but when you shake your head no stubbornly , his eyes widen.
“Shit.”
The tension snaps. His whole body goes rigid as he cums, groaning brokenly. You slow but don’t pull away, mouth still wrapped around him as he spills. You feel every pulse, every twitch, thick ropes of his seed filling your mouth.
His hips jerk, pushing deeper, and you whimper softly. The vibration sends him spiraling, groaning louder until he finally nods, desperate, begging you to stop.
You slide off him slowly, swallowing. Zook just stares at you, chest heaving—completely wrecked, and suddenly more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he doesn’t know where to put them, eyes flicking everywhere but your face.
He lifts a shaky thumbs up. “You did… alright,” he says, smirking through a wrecked voice.
You gasp and smack his arm, offended. He laughs—real and breathless—and the tension finally breaks.
As you stand, knees aching, he clears his throat and gestures a little awkwardly.
“Hey, uh,” he says hoarsely, still catching his breath. “Could you grab some napkins?”
You nod and head for the kitchen.
Zook stays frozen on the couch, staring at the doorway, heart pounding hard enough it almost hurts. He needs napkins because you—his best friend, the person he’s trusted with everything for years—just crossed a line with him. And he let it happen. He wanted it to happen.
The reality of it sits heavy in his chest now, impossible to ignore. He runs a hand over his face, cheeks burning, stomach tight with a mix of nerves and something hotter that won’t settle. You didn’t just fool around—something between you shifted, and he knows there’s no pretending it didn’t.
Nothing is ever going to be the same.
🏷️ ─── ୧ ‧₊˚ poor zook... now he's wrapped around your finger ⋅
@witchygagirl @walkerofshield @yeetaliano @novfr @archangelswing @xojadeelizabethox @bartonsparrow25 @hesaidgirlyoubetterhavefun @ghost-ina-tree @katieandersstark-blog @theloverofstuff @reedusw1fe @inafieldoflilies @bizarrescribblez @kc-readsss
lewis ford x fem! reader (overlord)
⁓2.5k words
friends to lovers, angst, smut, mentions of syringes, nightmares, weightloss, death, injuries and war; size kink, unprotected p in v, multiple rounds, consensual somnophilia
lewis had taken the serum. fuck, it felt wrong, he felt wrong, too strong, too much, too many thoughts about not making it out, too many thoughts about you. the second your image slips into his mind, everything other than the pain in his chest and the burning in his veins fades into the background.
he'll make it back to you, whatever the hell it takes.
you've been his closest friend since childhood, your early teenage years, even through the awkward outfits and hormones and growth spurts. even through the years he's realised he had fallen for you without noticing it, but never confessed. he didn't want to admit his feelings when he got the draft letter before his deployment, because he knew fully well it would only hurt you that much more if he didn't survive.
so the moment the hook sunk into his chest, he dragged himself off, plunged the syringe into his arm and felt the tar run through his body, all he could think about was his mother telling you the news, could practically see you break down the second you saw her with sad, teary eyes, standing in front of your apartment.
that, mixed with knowing boyce was about to die if he didn't do something, is what helps him fight, continue even through the searing pain.
his death would devastate you, break you. completely.
and it's you, the thought of you, that keeps him kicking, keeps him alive through it all.
for the rest of the war, lewis hides his injuries, his body's changes, so nobody would realise how quickly he's healing if he does get hurt; only allowing himself a breath in front of his squad since they know the lengths he went to to keep them safe, and they protect his secret so he doesn't get found out and killed. even worse, experimented on.
throughout all of it, you're always on the forefront of his mind - you got him out, he's gonna make it home.
and he's gonna make you his.
every casualty report has you shake with anxiety, every call from his mother has your eyes tearing up in hopes it's not about what you think it is. you had almost given up hope over the years of not hearing a single thing from lewis, even if he did write to his mother from time to time whenever there was a chance. he just didn't want to risk giving you hope before ultimately dying, but his mother does write back - and the letters that reach him tell him all he needs to know about your fears of him not making it back, of you losing weight, always looking tired but still putting up a smile whenever you visit her or help her with groceries.
when lewis finally makes it back stateside, he has to force himself to visit his mother first, as the serum in his body screams for him to be with you after pretty much imprinting on the thought of you. after a long hug, careful of his new strength since he didn't want anyone to know or realise what was so fundamentally wrong with his body, and a bit of talking, she realises that he's antsy and smiles.
"go find her, lewis, that girl has run herself ragged over you. i know you're home and safe now, that's all i needed."
he thanks her, tries to be cautious while hugging her once more, tells her that he'll come over for dinner within the week. but she simply smiles knowingly, because she had realised your and his feelings before either of you ever did.
your apartment door is the only thing separating you now. he has the key, somewhere in his belongings that he left with his mother when he terminated his lease before the war, but he didn't want to just barge in. he knew his appearance would already have you stagger.
once he had rung the doorbell, your muffled "one second!" makes his heart all but slam against his ribcage. and when you open the door, see your best friend as he sees his, both of you freeze. he's alive. you're right in front of him. he's alive.
before his mind can tell him to stop, his body reacts, and he pulls you into a searing kiss, one that has you gasp only for him to use the chance and push his tongue into your mouth so it can tangle with yours. it only takes you a breath before you're pulling him inside, kicking the door shut with a slam that surely alerts your neighbours - but you can do the talking later. right now, you just need to feel each other, desperation coursing through both of your veins.
a moan of his name leaves you when he picks you up effortlessly, has his dick ache while he carries you to where he knows your bedroom is. once you're set down gently on the bed, like you're made of glass, lewis takes a breathless moment to admire you beneath him. chest heaving, the comfortable shirt he subconsciously recognises to be one of his that he left at your place ridden up to expose your soft stomach.
"lewis-" he doesn't give you time to continue when he moves down and over you, kissing you once more with fervour and barely restrained hunger. his name falling from your mouth this pretty makes him let out a low growl.
you hesitate for a second when you tug his shirt over his head with urgent fingers and see the ugly, raised scar that remained from the hook, and mutter a quiet, careful "you okay?". but he just pulls you back into him, mumbles against your lips that he is, now at least. you accept it, know that he'll explain at some later point, and every thought flies from your mind when he rolls his hips into yours. even through the layers of clothes still separating your bodies it's entirely overwhelming, because feeling him, like this, alive and finally yours, feels like a dream neither of you ever want to wake up from.
it's as if lewis' body lets out a breath of relief when he finally tastes your skin, his lips and teeth and tongue at your pulse, feels your bare body under his calloused hands. you feel like heaven after all that hell he endured in italy, then france, and while he promises you that he'll take his time with you properly later on he needs to feel you right this moment.
"take what you need to feel like you're home," you whisper into his kiss, and he swears that he could melt, keep you in his embrace for all eternity or however long the serum will want to give him.
he had already noticed that the tar made him fill his muscles out a little more, but he never thought about his dick gaining some girth as well until he wraps his fist around the base, lines up with your already glistening core, groans when he struggles to press even the tip fully into you.
you whine underneath him, trying to spread your legs a little further to ease the stretch as he has to work himself into you with shallow grinds of his hips. he watches on in awe when you slowly take him, gasp and whimper and moan at the feeling.
when at last he manages to sink into you completely, bottom out with a final thrust, his hips stutter and he rasps out a low "fuck, sweetheart, you're heaven" because he finally doesn't feel the ache of his body anymore, only you wrapped around his cock so beautifully tight.
you can barely breathe, you're so full, but you manage to grab for him and pull him down into a kiss, inadvertedly have him reach even deeper into you. fuck, he has to adjust as well, you're almost too tight for him to properly move, but when you give a choked up "please move, lew-" he starts up a frantic pace, rough and deep, just the thing the both of you need. you're mewling and whining and pawing at his shoulders because your head is absolutely empty besides the thoughts of how full you are. how he's home. alive.
lewis' dark eyes stay on your face, observing every little detail flicker across. the pleasure he sees, the way you keep trying to hold his gaze but struggle, the little tremors your body gives under his large frame. with a glance, he angles his head to look down to where you're so intimately connected, groans raspily when he sees how wide your legs have to spread to accomodate him. how perfectly you take his every wild thrust. how perfectly you take him.
everything is too much and not enough at the same time - he knows he's different now, he knows he could hurt you, but you feel so good and he's waited so long for you, knows you waited so long for him as well. every little scrunch of your nose and tremble of your body has him realise just how thick he is, but before he can even check in if you're alright you're already shaking your head, choking out that he better not stop.
you still know him too well.
it's not long before you come undone, overwhelmed by the fact that he survived, reciprocates your feelings, feels so good covering your body with his own so fully as his hips snap into yours hard enough to leave the skin sore. neither of you can manage proper words by this point, instead letting out sighs of pleasure, weak sounds muffled through bitten lips and rough groans buried wherever his lips land.
lewis follows suit not long after you, hips faltering in their ruthless pace when he fills you with his spend, fucks it deeper when he doesn't stop even then. one round isn't going to be enough for the serum, he realises, he needs more, and you're more than happy and willing to give him everything he needs.
he excuses it by being pent up, having thought only about you for the past few years, that he needs to get this out of his system and take you apart properly and thoroughly, over and over again in all the ways he imagined having you.
you're weak, exhausted, sore, dripping with his cum by the time lewis is finally done, by the time he finally fucked himself out fully. with trembling legs, he just barely pulls out to collapse next to you, tucks you against his chest and refuses to let you go far. you can clean up tomorrow - he almost didn't make it out, only did because of you, so he's going to make sure you're his. filled with him, surrounded by him. he needs you close.
softly, still a little shaky from exertion and the orgasms he pulled from you, you let your fingers graze the scar on his chest.
"later, i promise sweetheart."
he seals his words with a soft kiss, and you believe him.
once he does explain it to you - he trusts you with his life and more, he knows you'll believe him - you're shocked. terrified. not of him, never of him, but of the horrors he had seen and lived through in his deployment. when you promise that you'll love him no matter what runs through his veins, that you'll always be by his side and do whatever you can to keep this secret, lewis can't help but groan.
next thing you know, he has you pressed against the wall, your legs around his waist because he needs you again right that moment - he was so scared that you'd be disgusted, scared of him, but you're so willing to love his entire being with your own that he can't help the hunger, this deep rooted desire.
he hid the changes, hid the injuries, so nobody would realise how fast he was healing, stuck close to his squad so they could cover when he did get hurt. and all the while, you were his only thought, and now he has you, all of you, and you want all of him even if you know what that means. even if you know that your life will never be completely normal again.
so you always make sure to stay as low profile as possible, always care for any side effects that might be there, even if they're only that hunger.
especially then.
another nightmare of not making it out, not making it back to you. lewis knew he'd have them, hell, he had them even before ciel blanc, but that didn't mean they didn't shake him. he needs you, needs to feel you to push those thoughts and memories out of his mind, needs to know that you're there. that he's home.
you wake up to lewis already pressing into you carefully but oh so desperately, splitting you open even as he's gentle and slow. rather, at least as slow as he can manage.
"lew?" you mutter blearily, and when he knows you're awake, he grunts a quiet "needed you" into your skin as he sinks in further and you whine drowsily, hand landing on his wrist as he cautiously bullies his length into you. he still struggles a little, that girth will always be a bit much, but your body is so pliant when still half asleep that it's easier than usual.
both of you let out sharp gasps once he's finally fully inside of you, buried to the hilt, hip meeting hip. your head is thrown back, and he presses soothing kisses to your bared throat as you adjust, whispers praise into the skin.
it doesn't matter how badly he needs you, he'll always give you that pause, that out if it's too much. he'd never forgive himself if he hurt you, if he didn't stop - he loves you too much, you're much more important than any physical need. just as much desire is in his body, it's evenly matched by restraint, so he can hold himself back. you're not getting hurt in any way if he can prevent it, and that includes by him.
lewis adores how you always let him in no matter what, cling to him half conscious, mumble how big he is and how good he feels when he starts to move with languid strokes that have his waist slap softly against the back of your thighs. he won't last long, neither will you, the haze of sleep multiplying every sensation tenfold and making your walls flutter around his dick in the matter of minutes, your subsequent release making his thrusts just that much wetter and smoother.
you're all but whimpering for him, breathing his name like a prayer, and when he follows suit and tips over the edge it's deep, hot, long ropes of his cum as he fills you up with a groan of your name.
his mind is quiet again, body tired and spent, and he lets himself stay buried inside of you, wraps his arms around your middle to lay on top of you. kind hands almost immediately travel to his shoulders, into his hair, as you catch your breaths and work to get your heartbeats even again.
"better?" you murmur, low and almost gone again, and his nod brings you the rest of the way back to sleep.
"much better."
author's note: lewis please come home... the kids miss you....
as i said on main im rewatching overlord and Im Horny watching ford beat the shit out of this evil guy like KEEP IT GOING BABY GET BLOODIER 😁😁 FORD YOU’RE GETTING SO MUCH HEAD FOR THIS TONIGHT!!!!
now hold on im gonna sound crazy and weird maybe bcuz i forgot cooper canonically has mommy issues so would that transpire into a mommy kink or- 💥☄️💥🔥🔥💥☄️💥
[they all shared have a kink for my boobs idk if theres a word for that IM SO UNINFORMED WITH THESE THINGS ..]
- walker (BREEDING/PREGNANCY KINK 100000% DUH if he could he’d want a billion walkerbunlings around, but i had to stop at 2 but we still get it on like that hahaha) (along with that…Gulp.. he’d have a lactation kink too i think WHOOPS HOW’D THIS GET HERE..) (size kink too because hes big.. gulp.)
- lee (also the same because its literally canon he’s got a breeding kink like.. HELLO IS THIS THING ON HOW IS THAT CANON..?)
- dud (idk if theres a word for it but he just likes being the submissive one most of the time HDHSJ) (he also loves hair tugging.. and i think smell would be another thing too mmm dud musk 🤤)
- true (bondage kink duhh he likes to tie me up cowboy style yayy 😁) (smell too MM MM SWEATY COWBOY SCENT..)
- anders (period kink as we’ve discussed duh) (also rough-ish but never where it’s harmful so slapping/spanking mhmm mhmmm)
- ford (oh yk his ass gets hard when i call him ‘corporal/sir’ + when he’s more directive/giving orders like YES!!!!!!!)
[ for now i’m stumped with ray, zook and cooper and d.eputy anders so i’ll have to think on it.. i’m feeling one for ray but i feel embarrassed about it but let’s just say he’s a dilf so .. wait tbh maybe he’d have a breeding kink too BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT!! ]
i was having a hard time figuring out which f/o of mine would have a period kink that isn’t a prior f/o of mine for obvious reasons CONGRATULATIONS ANDERS YOU GET THE PERIOD KINK CARD WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THIS GOOD SIR? 🐰🎤 [anders silent but because he has no shame]
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
germansingergirl
