noe

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ noe 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

. french-carribean black girl writing for other girls of color . 18 . she/her . infp-t . aquarius . i like monyon . unlabeled

. I write mostly smutty stuff, one shots and reader inserts but feel free to ask anything.

. snk . dcu . mcu . avatar . mha . cod . football . enhypen . & more

. dni > racism . homophobia . misogyny . ableism . pro-israel . etc... + minors . excessively religious people (who would spread their beliefs anywhere) . trauma dumpers .

. will not write > zoophilia . big age gaps . doodoo related kinks . incest . ddlg . child x adult . only girl in group of boys trope . mlm . masculine reader . tradwife trope .

overall my fics are inclusive for women, meaning that i will not mention skin color, physical traits, hair texture etc. and won't include pictures of girls to represent the reader cause when i see them and the girl is white, i lowkey don't wanna read it anymore cause that's not me ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ 

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

DCU . bruce wayne . a slice of you (4/?)*

COD . simon ghost riley . imagine (1/1)* . könig . big boy (1/?)*

SNK . Eren Jeäger . drabble* . Connie Springer . Regrets (1/1)*

FIFA . Kylian Mbappé . off season* - coming soon . Erling Braut Håland . lover boy* - coming soon

feel free to make any request

part one, part two, part three, part four

You told Bruce you never wanted to get married. Not with him, not with anyone, ever. It just wasn’t your thing. You didn’t want to bind yourself to any man no matter how much you loved said man. 

Men have shown just how disgusting their nature was to you for years, and you know that no matter how long you’ve known one, they just can’t ever be fully trusted. 

So you told him about the marriage thing, not really elaborating on the reason why, just staying vague because how do you tell your partner that you won’t get married to him due to previous “experiences” with many married men who dared to wear their wedding rings with you. 

You know that at least Bruce is rich enough to not make you do free labour for him but still, it’s for the principle, you just don’t want to get married. Period.

It’s very confusing to you how Bruce forgets that. Sometimes he’ll be talking about ring shopping and white dresses like the decision has already been made when you’ve specifically said no. It breaks your heart every time, you feel betrayed, lonely even, it is as if he never took you seriously. 

One morning at the manor, before the sun was even up, while he was rambling about some people talking about ‘his wife’ in the media, you felt like you’ve had enough. You snapped, the tension and unspoken truths just too heavy to ignore anymore. 

‘Bruce, we’re never getting married’ you say in a too aggressive tone, to which his brows furrow. He takes a sip from his coffee and tries to soothe you, to make you calm down but you just can’t 

‘My love, we can’t just stay in this unlabeled state forever…’ he then replies in his paternalist tone that you hate (and love sometimes). He’s acting like you’re just an addition to his lifestyle and not another entire human being that had a life before him and that can have a life after him. You hate it when he acts like your savior.

You guys argue back and forth for a while, making the whole house tremble. You feel like the man isn’t putting himself in your place; he is just trying to change your whole being, to make you fit in with the ladies when not too long ago you were another hoe on the streets. 

You’ll never be one of those rich women who have been raised with these codes, putting value in marriages and opinions. You’re a survivor of this fucked up society, one who wasn’t meant to be here but still, here you are.

Bruce ends the conversation, not bearing to fight with the love of his life before the day even started, not wanting to see that there is an issue between you. He does what he usually does, puts on his suit and leaves for work, abandoning you in this suddenly cold place that you don’t feel like you’re a part of anymore.

It’s frustrating, you want to leave. Everything that you guys have built together now seems ephemeral and your previous worries are beginning to come true. You’re losing everything once again. 

You waited all day for Bruce to come back, rambling and marinating in your (justified) anger. You just wanted to smash his head through the wall, steal all the cash in the manor and escape.  

You loved him but right now, your mind was so polluted with negative thoughts that your morals just disappeared for a moment.

You wrote in your journal, writing like you weren’t talking about the one who loved and took care of you while he was at work, worrying all day that you stopped loving him, that you would really leave and forget about him when you were the best thing in his life.

Bruce sent multiple texts throughout the day. Gentle ‘i miss you’ or ‘i’m so sorry baby’ texts accompanied by multiple heart emojis while you wouldn’t even bother to look at your phone when it buzzed. He definitely realized he made a mistake and he wanted to make you forgive him but nothing really was good enough for you. 

Hours later, the night still young, Bruce entered the sitting room where you had been for a while already, watching an old show on the cubic tv. He had a bouquet of tropical flowers in his hand that he bought on his way home, not over-the-top, just enough for you to feel special, which he gave right away to you with a shameful ‘i’m sorry’ leaving his lips.

You were a little less mad, getting up from the in-floor couch to be at eye level with him while your hands gently grabbed the bouquet. 

‘i didn’t want for you to feel pressured, i just…i thought it was better to make things official between us’ he says, his eyes not leaving yours even a second, watching your tired expression.

You reply with still a bit of bite in your tone, saying how you don’t need papers to show love to someone, and how hurt you were from him trying to force it upon you. It’s the beginning of something, a real conversation about your future that doesn’t involve light hearted words and wandering hands. 

Your honest words make his armor break down. You guys sit and talk for what seems like hours. You open up to him for the first time and he does as well. It is new to the both of you, the concept of communicating with the ones you love to try to not lose them over stupid stuff. It’s new, it’s hard and even feels a little shameful, but you’re happy to do it with him. 

You both realize that you have in fact a lot more in common, being outcasts in the family that you’ve had and created, mourning loved ones, hiding under defense, hurting others to protect yourselves…And it now all makes sense to you. The thing behind your partner was just a bunch of fragile flesh, he was like a cut that never had the time to heal properly.

After the nth apology, Bruce takes refuge in your arms, pushing you down on your back and resting his whole weight on your body. He doesn’t know if he’s going to cry or not, but it doesn’t matter because you’re here with him. You also wrap around him for comfort, the heat between the two of you feeling like a cocoon impossible to shatter. 

You hug for a minute, trying to be as close together as you can, feeling like you’re both alone in this world. He lifts his large frame over your body, kissing your shoulder gently before holding himself up above you. He cried a bit, you notice, but he looks so calm now.

Your fingers make their way behind his neck to drag him closer to you once again so that your lips can connect. The kiss is slow but very heated, it’s full of passion. You both are exposed in this moment, the shells that you have built around your respective selves crumbled completely, leaving room only for real feelings and sincerity. 

You roll over him, not breaking the kiss yet and gently sneak your hand between the both of you to unbutton his pants. Your lips part from each other, looking slightly swollen and shining from the saliva. The look he’s giving you is so tender, he can only see you right now and doesn’t want it to be any other way.

… 

After getting undressed, Bruce guides you back on his lap, his length poking out from under your hips, leaking everywhere on his tummy just waiting to be buried inside of you. You didn’t want him inside yet, not ready for the moment to end so soon, so you grind your hips gently against him, slowly watching his pink tip disappear under your heat while your fluids melted together forming wet squelching sounds. 

His blue eyes never left yours while you dragged your folds over his manhood. They’re desperate, revealing a man completely bending to meet your expectations in the best way possible.

He came quicker than expected, seemingly really enjoying being under you for the first time, sticky semen now making everything much messier.

At that point Bruce was driven by overstimulation, shaking at any motion of yours or his while his hand desperately clung to the couch, and when you finally sank down on his girthy member, he almost lost it. He reached for you, hoping to manage to grab anything for support while he felt like his body was giving up on him and the facade he built. 

You could feel his burning fingers grabbing onto your skin like a life line while he couldn’t hold himself back from thrusting up into you. The feeling is much too intense for you to hold your body up, forcing you to lay onto him, allowing the man’s tongue to reach your sensitive parts. 

He wrapped his arm behind your neck, holding you closer than ever while his tongue lapped at your ticklish neck, keeping your attention away from his dick stretching you out so rapidly. Bruce’s other hand grabbed on your ass, gripping on your cheek just enough for your little anus to be exposed which he loved to tease gently with the tip of his index, never getting actually inside. 

The mixture of his kisses, caresses and thrusts was your breaking point. You began to feel the familiar knot tighten into your stomach oh so slowly but very dangerously and when it snapped, your whole body shook, showing the waves of your orgasm washing over you until you calmed down. 

The whole time, Bruce kept his length buried at your deepest point, waiting for your hearts to slow down again after this intense session. He took his arms and hands off of you, using them to cup your face instead to admire your beautiful face, his mind imagining you here, near him forever, no matter the label that you decide to call it.

‘love me’ he says while his thumb strokes your cheek. 

You settle next to him, lying on your side, wondering how you managed to get someone like him. 

‘even if you don’t want to get married, even if you won’t raise children with me…at least, do this for me.’ He murmurs, not losing the vulnerability from earlier even after your frenzied love making.

You nod silently, scooting a bit closer to settle in his arms, your sweaty bodies sticking together in a way that feels like you both are only one being right now.

He kisses your forehead and closes his eyes, not waiting for any answer or promise because right now, he had everything he needed in his embrace.

you.

...

“what are you looking at?”

dark alleys, drunkards and dealers, all at the same place. It used to be what your daily life was made of. You know what these streets made you do, you remember them vividly.

What stuck with you the most was the ache in your legs at the end of each ‘shift’. An excruciating pain going from the joints of your hips all the way down to your tippy toes that made going back home horrible. You would find yourself, sitting in the first train next to the workers who had to go to work early while you were just going home from it, humiliated by the state of your aching body and forced to take their insistent looks until you reached your stop.

It would be the same every morning.

Being a hooker meant being invisible to the public while being the most exposed one out there. It was like being naked in the woods while having a disgusting opened wound on your back that could get infected at any moment. That’s how vulnerable you were. It was an unbearable lifestyle to you.

…

Sometimes, while driving through Gotham, Bruce's chauffeur would drive by East River, where you used to work, and while Bruce would talk to you to distract you, your eyes couldn’t leave the window, watching intently at every faces, familiar and new, every shop, every single piece of litter on the ground and it had an odd feeling. It felt bad. It felt wrong.

You used to be counting wrinkled dollar bills on the sidewalk in your cheap lingerie set with nothing to cover yourself but an old, bleached stained Adidas jacket while the morning sun rose. So now, driving around this part of town in Bruce's Bentley with Jimmy choo heels at your feet felt like an insult directed to every single person who was in your former situation.

Bruce felt it each time, with the way you’d fidget with your clothes, how your face muscles would slightly contract in this way that he’d see too often that meant you were upset about something. But he never knew what to do about it, so he never says anything. He only rests his hand over yours for support, almost like a silent ‘i’m here’.

…

At night, after dinner, Bruce watches you get undressed, it’s always such an intimate moment between the two of you. You, who had been so comfortable showing your body to strangers, walking the streets with your nipples almost out without a care in the world, struggled each night to show yourself in front of your partner. You struggled to take the garments off of you mentally due to the fear of rejection that still lingered, and physically with the pain that came from wearing your heels all day that made it too difficult to stand, taking away from your ability to move, putting you in a place of weakness once again, taking you back to the days where you’d throw your heels on the floor before going to sleep, paralysed by the fatigue. Bruce likes to help you in these moments, taking off your shoes, then your tights to end up with your dress, freeing you from these invisible chains that the women who come from money have to put on each day.

He never pressed you, just waited, not making the moment sexual when you didn’t intend for it to be. Only enjoying your presence, your body, appreciating it in his mind, no word ever leaving his mouth to comment on it. Bruce didn’t ever stare at you, he saw, he observed, he noticed. You weren’t on edge when you were with him, never worried about someone judging you or clowning you.

Occasionally he’d leave a kiss or two on your skin. Shoulders, neck and face were his go-to spots in these moments.

With Bruce, each kiss meant something. The moment his lips graze your skin, it’s like an intimate language is spoken and embeds deep into your veins. The touch of his hands wasn’t like an electric shock, it felt more like slow waves, luring you slowly into the depths of his desire without you even noticing.

He’d take off your silks delicately, keeping his lips that you loved so much on your burning hot skin, all while slowly pushing you onto the bed.

At first, you didn’t allow yourself to enjoy it, because you didn’t allow yourself to enjoy sex and intimacy as a whole anymore, so why would this be different. But as Bruce noticed it, he made sure to keep pulling the strings that made your self control unravel. Kissing, licking and sucking the most sensitive parts of your body, and knowing how responsive you are to those, without him even having to pay attention to your heat yet, were the things that drove him crazy.

It’s only when he’d see you having enough of his teasing that he would really get to it. Working to build up the pleasure to its maximum before allowing himself to let go, and god it was hard, but he would do anything for you to enjoy his touch even for one second only.

From the way he would use his hands to arch your back further into the mattress to the way he held your body up when he’d thrust up into you. He had always a way of making you crazy but that wasn’t without losing some of his own sanity himself.

Each time he’d feel your skin, he would feel privileged to have access to such a human being. Making love to you, having access to the doors of heaven themselves, feeling every single bump and crevice on your skin, hearing your sweet sounds from the moment they leave your throat, it was just the best thing ever to him.

His deep thrusts would make you forget everything for a moment. Making every pain suddenly bearable, every worry vanish, every drop of anxiety disappear and it could go on for hours, drawing lewd sounds from you while your bodily fluids would mix together.

Even when you thought you were done, he would beg. Bribe you with big wet kisses right next to your lips and soft pleas. ‘One more my love, only one more’ he’d tell you, lying through his teeth, knowing that he never gets enough, and you would always agree. The feeling was too intoxicating to abandon, his hips too close to yours to part already and his eyes looking into yours like that, like he did something bad, made you crumble each time.

He could take you from the side, making sure to bury his semen deep into your vagina, while holding your leg up firmly for you to feel every ridge of his cock, the feeling much too stimulating to the point where you’re drooling over his hand that he set in front of your mouth to conceal your screams.

Bruce’s hips would keep hitting harder and harder, like he’s aiming to enter your cervix itself as if he could get any deeper than he already is, and at this point you’re hyper aware of every sensation. Your breaking point is most of the time when he comes to assault your neck while being close to his own edge, the tip of his tongue abusing your ticklish spots and making you almost cry from the intense pleasure.

He would make you cum, and the clenching from your orgasm would be enough to drive him insane, milking him dry like he hadn’t come already that night. His thick nut takes its place in your scorching hot cunt, dirtying it with its filth, before Bruce pulls out to smear it everywhere. He watched your ass glisten with his cum while his fingers pushed the last of it inside your pussy and at the edge of your asshole. If you didn’t love him that much, you would think that this thing that he does is disturbing but you don’t, you let him watch, let him touch and appreciate the aftermath a bit before you leave to clean yourself off.

He makes you forget everything. The struggle, the pain, the fear…And actually sees you, and listens to you. After a hot shower, you settle into the bed next to him, your body fitting naturally into his arms while he strokes your hair gently. ‘I love you so much’ he’d whisper, kissing your lips so sweetly and slowly before telling you to sleep, accompanying you into a deep, warm and comfortable slumber while promising to never let you go.

…

Do not listen to floetry while writing

connie felt like shit

He fucked up, and now he needs to do better, for you. But he knows you’re not an easy one. He knows there’s no second chances with you and it kills him, but in reality he is aware that it is his own fault and no one else’s. 

He did not have to do what he did, to flirt with someone else like that just cause he wanted a bit more attention when he had you all to himself. He thought the grass was greener next door but turns out he just fumbled the only person that was perfect for him.

When you found out, his heart shattered in a million pieces. Seeing you just straight up breakdown like that was incredibly difficult for him and he could see how affected this made you. He didn’t realise how impactful these stupid messages would’ve been but now he knows, and now is too late.

You screamed, cried, cussed him out and slammed the door of his apartment in his face. He followed you outside his building until you reached your car, desperately trying to make you stay a little longer, hoping that his excuses would turn out to be enough for you but he knew that it was already over, so he watched you drive off, feeling powerless about the situation. 

After that, he tried to reach out to you in several ways, he called, texted, emailed, wrote love letters to you and even asked his mom who was in the same yoga class you were in to talk to you, which she refused to do since it was his responsibility, not hers, and she liked you way too much to ruin the dynamic you both have. 

Connie felt helpless, like nothing could work, like it was actually over between the both of you. Which is why he smoked much more often after you left, but even that felt dull, because what was the point if you weren’t next to him. He tried…he tried so hard to get you back but the only thing that could make you two get back together again was not possible for him to do, he couldn’t go back in time!

He kept repeating to himself that he has got to move on, that you can’t hold him back from living. But each time he felt a little better, something would remind him of you and he’d spiral all over again.

That was until Eren’s 23rd birthday. 

The house party had been going on for a few hours but Connie remained the whole time in eren’s room with a few other guys, drinking (too much), passing a blunt and half listening to what they were saying while scrolling on his phone. Connie was already contemplating on going home when Eren barged into the room, all excited, his pupils dilated from taking whatever substances people were giving him. He looked straight at connie and said “your ex is there”

Connie’s heart stopped. He hadn’t seen you in *months* cause you were avoiding him, and now you were here, so close to him…He needed to see you, to talk to you again, to kiss you. So he got up and followed Eren among the crowd of people downstairs until he saw you. 

You were breathtaking, standing out among the hoards of people, under the red lights while your friends dragged you to the bar to get a drink. You hadn’t noticed connie, yet, but he sure did see you. The man followed your friend group in the kitchen, leaving Eren alone in the living room and closed the door. It was too late, when you realised you were trapped with your ex, to escape this place, so you sighed, waiting for him to say something while your friends minded their business. 

“i’m sorry” was the first thing he said. “Amor, i’m sorry” he reached out to grab your hands but you weren’t responsive, just looking at the ground like a perfect emotionless doll while he was on the verge of crumbling. The heat, the weed and the alcohol made this so much more intense to him that he didn’t even care to humiliate himself anymore. He wanted you to see him again. 

“say something” he pleaded, intertwining your fingers together to bring you closer to him. Connie could smell you, hear your ragged breath, and see the rise and fall of your chest. You were just as nervous as him.

“I don't want to talk to you connie, i told you we’re over” you replied bluntly, the words coming out like you learned them by heart for this exact situation. 

“Baby please…you don’t have to forgive me just- just let me explain” 

He knew there wasn’t shit to explain. He crossed your boundaries, you ended the relationship, easy, but this man was too down bad to let you, the love of his life, go. you thought to yourself for a second, then nodded.

He took you outside, said some bullshit that didn’t make any sense and as he was about to cry, you stopped him 

“Con please don’t-” You didn’t really know what to do to make him feel better so you took him into your arms. He settled naturally, fitting perfectly into your embrace while your hands rubbed his back.

that’s how it started. Back rubs turned into scalp scratching, then caresses on his face, and then he kissed you and from that moment it was already over. 

Fucking your ex in the back of his car while he was that drunk and high was a bad idea, you knew it from the start, but the poor pathetic man was pounding into you so good, mumbling sweet words for you only to hear into your ear while his cock kissed your cervix in such a heavenly way that it made you lose all sense of rationality. He couldn’t hold you closer than he was right now, he felt as if you’d vanish if even one finger left your perfect body right now so he kept holding you, not caring about the marks he’d leave on your skin. 

your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck when he increased the pace, making your vision blurry with pleasure. At this point, he just wanted to cum to take you back home and make love to you like you deserved, so he chased his high. When he felt his orgasm coming he didn’t hold back at all like he would usually do, he stayed inside, completely unbothered about the fact that he was about to come straight into you. He released his thick white ropes into you, his fingers gripping your hair incredibly hard for some support as his body shook from exhaustion and stimulation. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying each other's presence for the first time in a long time and then he finally sat up, pulling his pants up and watching you with loving eyes. 

“‘m sorry mama” he mumbles, holding your face before leaning in and kissing you, taking time to feel your lips against his properly “i’m an asshole, and you shouldn’t forgive me…but…fuck” he ran a hand across his sweaty face, breathing in

“i can’t be away from you”

Your stomach fluttered, you couldn’t stay mad at him, you loved him too much and you knew he wasn’t lying right now so you made the wrong choice once again and let him take you home where he released everything, the pent up frustration, sadness, regrets…and you took it all. 

Of course!!!

Soft life (fluff) part one, part two, part three and part four

Living with Bruce has only been soft and relaxing so far. It has been feeling like an endless summer vacation where you would get pampered all day every day by your wonderful, crazy rich partner.

To be honest, you don’t want to call him anything, because your relationship is too vague on your side to put words on it. You keep telling yourself that you’re just a hoe and all of this is only a little fantasy of his that you can profit off of for a little while.

But to Bruce, it’s obvious, you’re his wife, and even if it’s not official yet, he will make it official, he is just waiting for you to fully trust him and his love.

Each morning, you wake up next to him, admiring his chiseled face and messy hair while he snoozes. He looks peaceful when he’s with you, which is so different from his usual serious demeanor that he uses to hide his real emotions. That's what his world is all about in reality.

You don’t know why you can’t open up fully to him, and it kills you because he’s been nothing but perfect to you. The thing is that working with men like him, who used to only view you as an inanimate object of their pleasure, made you wary, always on alert, and it forbade you from being in a relationship for a long time, but Bruce was here to change that.

When Bruce opens his eyes and sees you first thing in the morning, his heart fills with happiness. He’s happy because you didn’t leave during the night, you’re still close to him, and this means another day he can spend admiring and coddling you.

…

During his days off, Bruce is literally stuck to you all day. It’s not often that he can get a day only to himself, especially with everything going on, so he makes sure to use them to be with you the longest. From the moment Alfred brings you breakfast til you close your eyes to sleep, by his side of course. He just has to be close to you all the time, it feels natural for him to be.

Choosing clothes for the day? He can help you with that, he will even help you put your clothes on. Maybe you wanted to try working out a bit? No problem, Bruce will assist you at all times, which he insists is just for your safety but deep inside you know that he’s just obsessed. You're going out for a walk in the city? He’ll hold your bag for you, please just let him be with you.

…

Right now you’re just perched up on the balcony, smoking your cigarette, a bad habit you picked up years ago, while watching the landscaper shape the trees and bushes with the faint sounds of his tools that you find oddly relaxing. The morning sun caresses your skin, veiling you in its warmth in a way that feels like a hug.

Before, you wouldn't even allow yourself to enjoy the sun and the little moments, only focusing on working, finding places to sleep and making the most money, but now, you can finally breathe, take a break, cleanse yourself and reboot.

Reaching the end of the cigarette you go to grab another one on the small table next to you but someone stops you. Bruce’s big arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up in the air, making you squeal lightly in surprise. For a moment you could even believe that you were a normal couple.

‘No more my love, it’s not good for you’ he says while taking you inside, managing to snatch the cigarette from your fingers, pecking your neck and cheek playfully before setting you on the ground and kissing you properly, like you deserve, all while holding your waist in a soft manner to keep you steady.

You melt into the feeling, and it’s not just a kiss and an embrace, it's the feeling of stability and peace that takes over your body.

The feeling of not having to worry about where you will sleep tonight, about if you’ll have enough coins to put in the laundromat or even if the people you’ll encounter won’t be too harsh on you. That’s what life is about and Bruce is the one showing it to you.

He loves you and he knows that you’re starting to believe him…

…

Bruce has never been so in love.

No woman has ever made him feel the way you did. Bruce Wayne was a billionaire, one of the richest men alive, he could have any woman ever, and he’s never complained about it either. It’s just that you were different, not from his circle, not accustomed to his ways, his values. He was from the part of the population that could live life at the fullest, while you were forced to try to survive each day hoping for the next to be better.

When he saw you, it was like he saw god itself. He thought a woman so beautiful could not or should not graze the same earth he and his filthy body did, but you do. You didn’t look like the women he saw daily, you weren’t draped in silks and pearls, you weren’t hiding like a prize either, you were just standing here, half smoked cigarette in mouth with a cheap faux fur coat around your shoulders. you were freezing, it was obvious, but quickly stopped shivering when you saw his expensive car slow down towards you.

“looking for something?” you asked in this suave voice that you mastered over the years, knowing that it was the most efficient way to get what you want with his kind. His blue eyes stayed on yours for a few seconds before he mumbled something about a hotel room downtown with a deep voice. You thought to yourself, a hotel room might be nicer than an uncomfortable backseat, so you jumped in his car without asking more questions.

The drive was oddly quiet, you just sucked on your cigarette while trying to stroke his ego by complimenting his ride until he told you to stop wasting your breath on him.

“and throw this cigarette out would you” he then said with quite an authoritarian tone you weren’t expecting to hear from him. You didn’t really understand the meaning of all of this since he himself had a cigarette pack in the cup holder, but decided to not comment on it and quietly obey, throwing your cigarette out the window.

That was the night you met with Bruce, a man that you never expected to be able to fall that hard for a hooker like you. After that, it all went really fast. He was soon covering you in designer clothes and ridiculous jewels, teaching you lady manners and being the support you were looking for so long.

On monday he took you shopping, on tuesday you dined at a fancy secret restaurant uptown that only crazy rich people knew about, and by sunday you were already back at the crappy apartment you were sleeping at to bring some of your old stuff back at the mansion, ‘your new home’ he’d say.

Bruce was infatuated.

So in love that for the first few weeks of this sickening, forbidden relationship, he was completely unable to touch you, not wanting to stain your soul with his filthy one. He would look at you all night, naked, while you’d try to lure him into your strings to keep his trust but he couldn’t. He wasn’t a great man, no matter what he did to try to be one, but oh how he wanted to be a good man so much, for you, to show you that you could choose him for more than money but even if you didn’t, he’d stay your sponsor, he only cared about being close to you.

After the second month of living together, you began to wonder when it would end, when he would realize that there’s plenty of other girls like you if not better than you, but each time you would try to voice these thoughts out to him he would silence you with his mouth on yours, slowly dominating you to make you feel cared for, or his length sinking into your delicate cunt, trying to make you feel better because you should never feel threatened by anything or anyone. You were the goddess he wanted to worship.

Sex with him was on another dimension completely. It would start faintly; you reading by the fireplace or even just sitting on the bathroom sink in your little sheer robe while he would brush his teeth, and bruce being himself, not being able to keep his hands to himself. He would take your fingers, play with them, look at you nails, kiss your palms before looking into your eyes, with love and adoration. He would say ‘I love you’ in that tone that makes you fold and manage to get you to come closer to him. You would then make out, slowly, sensually, his hands wandering on your back, your waist, groping your chest, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slipping a finger under you clothes.

Bruce was a nasty man, which most people wouldn’t assume due to his serious attitude in public. He’s the type of guy to, when eating you out, really eating everything, never neglecting one single inch. He would happily turn you around to attack your butthole after he considered he had spent enough time between your folds, and the same applies to your perfect nipples that he loves to tease with his teeth before even thinking of reaching your heat, your pits that he licks so eagerly while breeding you raw and embedding his cock in your warm walls, even your toes that he abuses when you’ve had a long tiring day spent shopping or trying to socialise, and everything else that he can reach. He’s passionate about loving you and about making love to you. So much that nothing seems too extreme or too much for you, you deserve the best.

To him you’re not just a hooker, you’re the woman of his life, the one. There’s nothing that you could ask for that he wouldn’t give to you even if you asked for his life, and that’s what this insane man called love.

…

HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH

It’s just a little something b4 uni kicks my ass again

Imagine being könig’s tiny girlfriend. To be honest any height would be tiny to könig and he likes that quite too much.

You two met at a bar, on a winter night after you both spent a shitty day. He was with a few of his friends and you were alone just drinking a ridiculously sophisticated cocktail and scrolling on your phone just to congratulate yourself for surviving this awful day.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You seemed so peaceful and calm, the complete opposite of his rather anxious self. König kept looking at you until one of his friends pushed him to go talk to you.

Maybe it was the alcohol because it went smoother than he thought it would. It maybe went too smooth because on the first night, he fucked you senselessly in the back of his car.

It just all felt too good. You with your little frame under him, squeezing his abnormally large cock with your tight cunt as if you wanted to drain him from every single drop of cum left into his body.

He never felt that good during sex. He’s been with girls before but none of them ever made him feel that good so he knew he couldn’t let you go.

…

This relationship evolved from just seeing each other to fuck, to staying the night at each others places, then seeing during the day and finally he asked you to be his girlfriend.

…

The night before now, könig slept at your place like he does most of the time now, leaving his apartment almost abandoned. Your head is laid over his broad chest, one of his hands holding your body close and the other running over his month old buzz cut that he should buzz again, while he rants about a guy bothering him at work.

You’re not actually carefully listening anyway, you just like hearing his accent. His gut wrenching accent that makes you finish so fast each time he praises you.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You suddenly hear, getting pulled out of your little daydream.

König is looking at you with his bright blue eyes and a slight frown on his face.

Of course you’ve been hearing what he said but have you been listening? No, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings but you’ve heard about this thousands of times and always come to the same conclusion.

“I knew it…” he says before getting up

“No wait könig” you cling to his gigantic body.

“I wanna make it up to you”

…

You wished you never said that…

Imagine being Simon Ghost Riley’s ex wife who he can’t forget. You two have a son together and after being on a mission for a few weeks, he wanted to take him out somewhere for some quality time since you had full custody.

Even though he’s been away for only a few weeks, you two haven’t seen each other for months now.

…

Simon knocks on your door hesitantly. He wants to see you, he needs to. But when you open the door, he doesn’t know what to say.

You’re so beautiful, you changed but you’re glowing.

You just greet him with a simple “hi” and let him in. Simon walks in, lowering his head so he doesn’t hit it on the doorframe and you both sit on the couch and wait…

“He’s not here” you say, breaking the silence and trying to make the situation less awkward after a moment of silence.

“Where is he?” He asks with his deep voice and thick British accent that makes your heart melt each time.

“He’s at his friend’s birthday, he’ll be back later…in a few hours” you reply not daring to look at him in the eyes.

“In a few hours…aight” Simon passes a hand through his short blond hair, trying to think of something to say.

…

You two have been trying to hold a decent conversation for an hour now, catching up on your respective lives. He tells you about the struggles of his job and you tell him about whatever’s been bothering you lately…until you felt his gaze lower to your hand, especially the finger where your ring is placed, the ring he placed. The ring you can’t get rid of even though you tried to.

“You still have your wedding band?”

He asks as he stares at the ring he passed on your finger a few years before, as if he was mesmerized. He wished to do it again, and again… see you all dolled up in your pretty dress for him with that beautiful smile on your face. You two were so happy that day, like it was the best day of your lives.

He wished he could fuck you again like the night of your wedding, slowly and steadily. It was so intimate, just the two of you, his hair tickling your jaw as he pounded into you. He remembers the way your arms were wrapped around his neck and the way your hands would move to touch his hair. He remembers the sloppy kisses he gave you while he was listening to the soft symphony your moans were composing.

Simon snaps out of his transe when you answer

“Yes…it’s a pretty ring after all”

He nods.

He feels dumb for thinking that you two still had something; you moved on and it was clear.

He doesn’t want you to know that he kept the ring and a few of your things too. He doesn’t want you to know that you’re the one in his mind when he’s alone jerking himself off and overstimulating his soaked cock trying to recreate what you would do to him. He’s ashamed. The shirt that you forgot to get back from him had already been stained with his cum so many times that it doesn’t even smell like you anymore.

You already moved on but he didn’t, he never forgot your dates where you’d be just the two of you on the couch watching an old crappy movie. He never forgot the long hours he’d spend sleeping on your pregnancy belly while you’d caress gently his freshly cut hair. He never forgot the way your son would grab his big tatted arm in his small hands…He never forgot the feeling of your pussy squeezing him and taking him so well. The way you’d ride him on nights he felt tired, or the way your tongue would swirl around his tip, trying to milk every drop of cum he had left in him.

Simon loves you, he loves everything about you and never stoped loving you…

…

…that’s why you’re on the couch right now with his face buried in between your thighs. Simon’s tongue passes through your folds and teases your clit slowly while you scratch his hair. He’s so good for you, going a bit faster each time he hears you whimper.

The tip of his tongue teases your soaking hole while your toes curl around nothing.

After a moment of this sweet torture, he finally decides that his pants were getting too tight and stops licking you. He lifts his eyes to look at you, his face all red from embarrassment as your hand leaves his hair.

“Please, let me fuck you like you deserve” He asks politely while you’re panting heavily. At this point, his dick is the only thing you’ve been wanting. It’s been a while, too long.

You agree with a nod and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you up and put you gently on the kitchen counter. He used to make love to you for hours on it, it was the perfect height. He could fuck you from the front with your legs over his shoulders or from the back with your boobs pressed against the cold granite countertop.

He takes a moment to appreciate your body and watches you all vulnerable and needy for him. He wants to make you cry, to make you beg for more because he knows you will want more. He’s the only one who knows what’s best for you.

As you adjust your body on the counter, Simon hurries to take his fully hard boner out of his pants and boxers. It’s bigger than you remember, covered of his precum and ready to stuff you full of his semen.

You bite your lip in anticipation the moment he grips your thigh to holds it up. He’s so hot when he’s on top, his eyebrows are furrowed as he lines up his dick with the hole of your soaked cunt.

He puts it in with a low “fuck” escaping his lips. You feel so good around him.

Simon pounds into you, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, making sure to leave dark bruises on your skin. He’s loosing himself into your folds feeling your burning walls squeeze his cock too much for him to hold his orgasm.

He burries his dick deeply into you, his tip kissing your cervix at each thrust and eventually it begins to feel too stimulating, too good. Simon cums into you but doesn’t stop his hips from moving. The white substance drips down to the counter and his moans are higher and louder. Now, his thrust are messy and uneven because of the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling trying to bring you to your climax.

You reach it eventually, your own juices melting with his as you two are panting messes. Simon looks at you, at your beautiful face he missed so much. He won’t let you go again.

…

About an hour later, after a good shower, he randomly decides to kiss you and mumbles “I love you”

His dorky ass has been dating you for 5 months only but already thinks about your future together. So it just makes sense to him; your name has to be permanently engraved into his skin.

The day he got it, you were at home peacefully minding your business, on your bed, scrolling on your phone when you saw that Eren posted a new story.

You clicked on it and It was just him with his usual blunt between his fingers, listening to music in his car, blowing smoke by his nose…and showing off his new tattoo.

You directly recognized your name.

“I swear-“ you thought to yourself before hitting the ‘calling’ button on FaceTime. You were clear about him getting tattoos without thinking first but he never listens.

He answers and says before you get to even open your mouth “I’m on my way jus’ wait” and then hangs up.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and know it’s him.

“don’t be mad” he says holding your waist and sliding one of his hand under your shorts clearly indicating to you how he’s going to make it up to you.

“You’re a psycho” you roll your eyes

“for you” he answers looking like a freak in love (which he is)