𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒

𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟;

summary: bertholdt loved his new little toy -- the highest tech available on the market, a brand new innovative VR set that fully taps into your senses, bringing you into whatever fantasy world you desired. the best part? the cute girl on his friends list that he just couldn't get out of his head.

pairing: bertholdt hoover x f!reader

warnings: smut, online relationship, meeting in person!, virginity loss, unprotected sex, slight praise, fluffiness, friends to lovers, partly takes place in a virtual fantasy setting

notes: heyo!! here's a little piece i loved writing, for the lovely @tadokorochann, who has the best fucking ideas i can't even deal <3 stay lovely, i hope you enjoy!!

Work had never felt so long, Bertholdt thought to himself as he eyed the little clock on his car radio. In just under an hour, he'd be ready to jump into his favorite hobby and spend time with his favorite person. It was the perfect set-up for blowing off steam. The shit day answering calls and dealing with angry customers weighed on his shoulders heavily, but none of that would matter once he was home.

He scarfed down an unimpressive dinner. He showered, even fixed his hair to be presentable despite the fact that nobody would even see it -- perhaps it was a slightly nervous habit, but it didn't matter -- Bertholdt was ready to see you.

Even if it wasn't... you, exactly, it still was, in a way.

A familiar melody chimed in his ear upon donning the headset. Swirls of color lifted to life in front of his eyes, bright and harmonious. Bertholdt relaxed back into his aging gaming chair and let the giddy smile consume his face.

Everyone needs a hobby, right? Something to fill the void. Bertholdt certainly did, when he ordered the newest VR set on the market almost a year ago. The tech was groundbreaking; fully immersive like nothing else before it, and all-encompassing to the senses. It was really something amazing to experience (even if it burned a pretty little hole in his wallet) and quickly became part of his nightly ritual, keeping him up way longer than his body appreciated.

The biggest and most popular game available for such new technology enraptured him immediately: Planes of Eldia, a high-fantasy MMORPG that plopped you right in the middle of a massive world filled to the brim with strange creatures, breathtaking scenery, and, of course, no shortage of players to aid or hinder your journey.

It was his first week of playing when he met you.

Bertholdt wandered himself around the cute, quaint village his avatar lived in, eventually picking up a little fetch-quest from the inn-keeper to go collect some rare mushroom that only grows in a certain cave outside of town. He figured it'd be easy enough. Such missions were standard fare for the fantasy games he was accustomed to.

Lush grass licked at his calves as he walked, cool and dewy against the thin fabric of his low-level gear. He could hear birds chirping in the trees; a river running not far away; the coo and caw of mythical creatures that made these kinds of woods their home. Bertholdt eyed the barely noticeable gap in the tree line up ahead. He was closing in on his destination.

Traversing the forest had been too calm. Palm-sized, scaly beasts bawked and took flight if he drew too near. Fuzzy mouse-like creatures scurried themselves up the trees to avoid his booted feet. Nothing even spared him a glance as he passed by, weaving his way between impossibly tall trees until the thick of it finally broke into a rather bare clearing. The grass was dotted sparsely with tiny pastel flowers. It led like a trail up to a dark, eerie crack skirting along the side of the mountain before him. Bertholdt eyed the scene. He took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of the ocean not far away, reeling at the way the wind brushed at his hair and nipped his cheeks.

He figured it'd be easy enough, but he quickly realized he was out of his element -- quite literally. Right as his fingers brushed along the thin cave mouth, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures burst from the darkness in a powerful stream, knocking his avatar back on his ass. A cacophony of screeches and caws grated harshly through the air as they swarmed, enough to make his teeth ache and grit strangely in his mouth. Laid out, defenseless, Bertholdt slapped his hands over his ears, but it did little to drown out the relentless screaming surrounding him and draining the health bar hovering over his head.

He closed his eyes. Surely he'd wake up in his virtual bed soon, pockets a little lighter after suffering the respawn fee -- but the swirling dark clouds that accompanied the 'dying' mechanic didn't take over his vision as he'd expected.

"Dude, what are you doing?!"

A savior in mismatched armor, a diamond among the rough tree line.

"You don't even have any ranged abilities yet. You gotta pick up a crossbow or something, man, you're fucked against stuff like this!"

The first time he met you, you saved his ass. And you never let him forget about it, either.

It was months ago when he made his first friend in Planes of Eldia, who just so happened to be a sweet, higher-level mage. You didn't mind gifting him gear and weapons, you didn't mind escorting him through quests you'd already completed. Bertholdt felt babied by this objectively better player, utterly dwarfed in skill and abilities, but you never minded.

You were cute -- well, your avatar was cute, he had to remind himself. He felt drawn to you in embarrassing ways. Whenever he'd log on, he'd check to see if you were also online. He'd travel to your avatar's home a few villages away, feeling much like a nervous teenager when he knocked on the door. It was just a game, he had to remind himself.

Just a game.

Eventually, you two played nearly every day together. It became a ritual of sorts: Bertholdt would get off work, put on the headset, and you'd almost always be waiting. The gentle greetings and little laughs were a symphony to his ears. So many nights stretched far too long, sometimes not even getting anything done in the game. Hours of just talking felt like minutes when it meant he could lie in a field of grass next to you.

"You... you have an online girlfriend?" Reiner had smirked at him from across the table one night, amusement dancing behind his golden gaze. Bertholdt blanched, nearly choking over his beer. "No, no! She's just... a friend, on the game, who happens to be a girl," he sputtered and glanced away. The restaurant surrounding them felt too quiet for the friendly conversation to take such an embarrassing turn. Distant forks scraped against plates and patrons chatted to one another, yet Bertholdt felt like he was trapped in a closet with his oldest friend, pressed into an inescapable corner. He picked at a fry on his plate absently.

The blonde arched a brow, clearly inquisitive after that reaction. "Well, you sure spend a lot of time together. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," he hummed and paused to take a bite of his meal, "I finally pin you down and now I feel like I know everything about this... friend."

The sound of phone chimes suddenly broke into their space -- three dings, back to back -- and Bertholdt stiffened in place. A hole was burning in his pocket and anyone half blind could see it. Reiner blinked at him and the curious way he molded into a rather ghoulish statue under the dim lighting. "...Don't tell me that's her."

"Okay, I won't."

"Bert, buddy," Reiner swiped the back of his hand across his mouth a little unceremoniously, clearly loosening up after his third beer, "listen. You like her, don't you?"

The brunette didn't reply, instead choosing to take an inappropriately massive bite of the burger he'd been neglecting. He started talking earlier and didn't notice the rapid pace that took over him, words simply spilling from his usually timid mouth at breakneck speed, dripping with puppy-like excitement. It was rather unusual, Reiner noticed immediately, but he simply grinned and soaked in the gleefulness radiating from his friend.

Bertholdt looked guilty, but really, he felt torn.

He knew the answer to Reiner's question. Of course he liked this girl, how could he not? The connection was nearly instant and completely automatic. He'd always been a rather shy individual, finding it hard to communicate and find a comfortable space around others. People were intimidating. People were confusing.

But you were kind. You were sweet, you made him laugh, you looked at him like he held no flaws.

Maybe it was naive of him, a man in his twenties falling for someone over the internet like some lost puppy, someone he had never met in person. Naive or not, he knew what Reiner was going to say -- it was written all over his face, that slightly wry smirk slipping into a rather tight line.

"Do you know what she sounds like?" The blonde asked next. Bertholdt nodded and swallowed, not really tasting the food in his awkward reverie.

"We talk every day."

"And she... sounds like a girl?"

Okay, maybe he didn't quite know what Reiner was thinking. He assumed there'd be some light ribbing, not an entire interrogation.

"Yes. God, Reiner, what are you getting at?"

The man across from him held his hands up in a show of defense, dipping his head a tad. "I'm just saying, there are some weirdos out there, man!" he flicked his golden gaze over Bertholdt, calculating his next words carefully. "Do you know what she looks like?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly, but faltered after a moment of thought. "Well... I guess not. I haven't asked for a picture or anything."

Reiner laid his palms flat on the table. A steady look washed over his relaxed face. "Bert," he said sternly. His name never felt heavier coming from Reiner's mouth. The brunette shook his head, heat rising to the tips of his ears.

"W-Who cares what she looks like? She's my friend, we just play games together, nothing else."

Except, there was something else. He'd just rather keel over on his plate before admitting it to the skeptical mass of muscle across from him.

Bertholdt remembered the first time he felt a line had been blurred, past the casual flirting and prolonged eye contact that was so beautifully normal for you two.

Digital stars hung in the sky, twinkling little holes punched behind a swirl of pastel colors, painted like careful brush strokes. That particular corner of the gigantic map was your favorite. The sky was always dark, but the gentle glow from the aurora above served as the perfect night light. Soft blues and greens lit up your cheeks and glistened in your eyes. Bertholdt felt dizzy watching you, felt his breath nearly sucked from his lungs when the realization hit him like a sack of bricks.

It was just a game, sure, but he was smitten. The avatar sitting at his side was just that: a character.

But when you -- your digital form -- laid your head on his shoulder, he could feel the pressure. He could feel the heat radiating from you, feel the butterflies in his belly.

He knew he was in deep.

"Have you ever seen something so pretty where you live?" you asked, tone dreamy and voice soft. Bertholdt shook his head gently without needing much thought.

"It's pretty boring where I'm from, honestly. Not much to do around here," he replied. Briefly, he thought about you, most likely sitting thousands of miles away in some city he's never heard of. He thought about what your daily life might consist of, outside this magical realm you traversed together nightly.

It became easier to be bold in this virtual setting, no matter how real it felt. Bertholdt slowly snaked an arm around your form and let his fingers ghost over your waist, something he'd be petrified to do in person.

"Ugh, me too. I visited Paradis with some friends last year, and it was so fun. Made me super jealous that my town is just so... bland, even if it's not that far away."

Bertholdt looked down at you. "Not far from Paradis?" he asked. A sense of excitement leaked into his words, one he hoped you didn't catch onto.

"Yeah. It's like, a ferry ride away."

No fucking way.

Bertholdt straightened himself. Suddenly, the hilltop you two lazed on felt sky-high, his heart catapulting into a slightly frenzied state. "Do you live around Liberio, maybe?" he asked, a little shake in his voice.

He could tell he caught you off guard with the way you snapped up to look at him. The answer was plain as day, but the satisfaction of hearing you confirm it felt too delicious to pass up. "No fucking way," was all you said, but it was music to his ears, easily stealing the breath from his lungs.

The VR was revolutionary, impeccable and immersive, allowing you to feel everything your character would -- almost everything, anyway. Bertholdt knew his actual heart was threatening to burst in his chest. He knew he was probably sweating in his gaming chair, and he knew Reiner would have a field day with this information if he ever caught wind. What the brunette didn't know, though, was how real it would feel when you planted a kiss on his cheek.

Not just the sensation -- of course he'd feel it, he felt everything that touched him -- but the implications behind it. You were a real person, somewhere not far from him, someone he absolutely adored, and you had kissed him. On purpose, no less.

At least he wasn't crazy like Reiner inadvertently made him out to be. It wasn't all in his head. All the hours spent together, all the late nights, all the texts that made him glow while he was supposed to be working... it wasn't nothing. It wasn't silly, it wasn't weird. It was real. You were real, somewhere, and he needed to settle some things before he went insane from self-doubt.

Despite his outward skepticism, Reiner was a good friend, with good intentions. Bertholdt knew it all came from a place of love, even if it left a sour taste in his mouth sometimes, which is why he even allowed this Scooby-Doo-level scheme to transpire in the first place.

The cafe was quiet, but not empty. A few students dotted the tables, typing away on laptops. A little group of women clad in athletic gear chatted amicably just a few seats away. Bertholdt tried to sip away his nerves, the coffee burning his mouth in his haste. A new text tore his gaze away from the front door he'd been burning a hole in for the past five minutes.

Reiner: You look like you're about to shit yourself

He rolled his olive-colored eyes, shooting a pointed glare at the blonde sitting not-so-casually across the building. Reiner tilted his head with a grin before biting his croissant.

The blonde came as backup, a safety net in case things went horribly wrong with this... date? Would you even call it a date? Maybe it'd be too forward to assume. Sure, he'd held your hand; you've hugged plenty of times; you've kissed his cheek, and he's kissed your forehead. But this was all virtual, Reiner was quick to chirp in.

Truthfully, Bertholdt wasn't sure what to expect as he waited anxiously. What if things were painfully awkward? What if he didn't know what to say, what if he clammed up like he tended to do in social situations, and you thought he was some weirdo from the internet?

What if you didn't even show up?

Reiner: This is taking forever

Bertholdt heaved a sigh, staring at the phone laid on the table. As much as it pained him, he agreed with the sentiment, nerves frayed like a man on death row. What a painful, mortifying mistake this could be. What a--

"Bertholdt?"

He must've missed the door chime, must've missed the little gasp hidden behind the fit of self-depreciation he'd immersed himself in because he certainly missed the girl that walked cautiously up to his table and stood before him. Wide eyes slid up your form to settle on your face -- your strikingly familiar face that he'd actually never seen before, except, he has.

Just... digitally.

You looked exactly like your avatar, which came as a stark surprise. People usually embellish their characters, making them wildly more interesting or attractive to live their best fantasy life -- but you, standing a little ways away with your fingers fiddling at your sleeves -- you were so familiar, it made his chest ache and stomach flip dangerously.

He managed to mumble out your name, disbelief accidentally dripping from the syllables. A jovial smile crept over your cheeks, hidden by the hand you slapped over your mouth rather quickly. "No way, no way," you muttered, voice raised an octave in what he hoped was excitement.

Any sense of confidence he held in your little virtual world completely dashed away, knowing how stunning you actually were in person. He suddenly felt bashful, hot prickles rising under his skin as he stood up.

"Woah, you're really tall," you gawked, staring up at him with a gleam in your eye.

Reiner let his mouth hang in subtle disbelief as he watched the scene play out. He'd suggested the plan in wholesome concern, fully expecting to console his heartbroken friend over a few beers and maybe a little shit-talking session -- never in a million years did he expect a beautiful girl to waltz in, let alone bury her face in Bertholdt's chest as he timidly wrapped his arms around her. The two men made eye contact from across the cafe, sharing the moment of shock.

Reiner was a good friend -- he knew when to make himself sparse.

"Sorry I'm-- I'm really nervous, to be honest," the man before you said breathily, swiping his hands over his jeans. You'd felt how stiff he was during your hug, the energy radiating off of him like a live wire. As incredibly flattering as it was, it also fed your anxiety, making your hands shake just the slightest bit, but you laughed it off, enraptured by the adorable blush dusting his cheeks. "That's okay, I am, too," you replied gently, trying your best to even out your tone.

Bertholdt looked down at his drink. Something clicked, making him jump a little bit. "I'm so sorry, c-can I buy you a coffee?"

Your stomach fluttered, unable to look away from him. "I'd love that, thank you, Bertie," the nickname slipped out so easily, but it nearly threw him on the ground, his face and neck now a deep red.

"It's no problem, anything for you."

You weren't sure what you were expecting from this little plan. To any outsider, it was undeniably risky -- meeting up with some guy from the internet, alone. The fact that he asked you to choose the destination was a good sign in your eyes, though, as if you personally needed more reassurance... despite not knowing him in real life (yet), you knew there couldn't be a malicious bone in Bertholdt's body. The man was honey personified, extremely respectful in all of your interactions thus far, even when the playful banter turned a little less than platonic.

As he sat across from you, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, you knew he was a shy thing; the way he would bounce his gaze between you and his drink made you squirm with adoration. Nobody else in that little cafe felt relevant as you talked, minutes slipping away until the sun began to dip behind buildings outside.

How long had you been there? The parking meter certainly needed to be fed, or you got slapped with a ticket already, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Your favorite person and the only man on your mind for the past year or so was finally in front of you, laughing at lame little anecdotes and strange stories from your life as if you were the most interesting person in the world. It felt so normal, so natural, it's like you hadn't had the wind knocked out of you just hours before.

"It's getting late," you said suddenly, sighing into the empty space inside your cup. Bertholdt glanced out the window, blinking in surprise. "I guess so," he replied, "I didn't even notice."

You smiled coyly. "I take it you're enjoying yourself?"

"More than I'd like to admit." The brunette ran a hand through his hair, all but forcing you to take note of the prominent veins that ran up his forearm, hiding under the rolled sleeves at his elbows. He'd dressed so nicely, it made you swoon inside. "Well... okay, call me crazy--"

"You're crazy, but so am I, because I already agree with whatever you're going to say," you found yourself leaning across the table, eyeing him with a heated, curious gaze.

Bertholdt chuckled -- a deep, rumbly noise that lit a fire under you. "Don't agree too quickly, you'll get my hopes up. I was just wondering... would it be weird if we, I dunno," he looked away shyly, fiddling with the long-empty cup between you both, "spent some more time together tonight?"

At your grin, he flushed deep again. Oh, how adorable this giant, bashful teddy bear was.

"I-I mean, like, maybe a movie or something? I'm sorry if it's weird. I just... I've had a lot of fun, I really like being around you, and I don't want today to be over."

Reaching over, you laid a hand over his, nothing but syrupy sweetness in your voice, "I'd love that, Bertie."

He really should've cleaned. It's not often he has guests in his apartment, let alone gorgeous women, so the space seemed embarrassingly lackluster as Bertholdt guided you inside and flicked on the lights. "Sorry for the mess," he mumbled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, and you waved him off immediately, muttering a playful 'shush, you're fine' in reply.

It's not like he could've predicted bringing you back home. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if he'd be meeting you at all -- and now, there you were, curiously gazing at a few framed photos hanging on his entryway wall. You looked utterly adorable, smiling at the image he knew to be his graduation day; he stood side by side with Reiner, red gowns draped over them and wide smiles plastered on their faces. "You look so cute here," you cooed, a sense of adoration dripping from your lips.

Bertholdt chuckled meekly. His stomach was tying knots around itself at a rapid pace. "Thanks. You look cute, too," he replied before he could think it over.

"Oh, do I?"

"Y-Yeah, stunning, actually."

The air felt heavier as you looked at him, your hands drawn together before you, lips pursed in the cutest half pout he'd ever seen.

Bertholdt was never good with women. He could feel himself crack under your gaze, nervous energy surging him further into his apartment in a feeble attempt at diffusing the tension he depicted as discomfort. "S-So, make yourself at home," he cleared his throat and set his keys on the granite countertop separating the kitchen from the living room.

Truthfully, you were on cloud nine. Despite only just meeting him (formally, anyways), your mind wandered to dangerous territory as soon as he sheepishly brought up extending your night. All these emotions that had built up for so long were finally coming to a head, in one way or another, and the need to explore it outweighed your frazzled nerves.

Fuck, it felt good when he complimented you. It felt good when he looked at you; it made you feel whole, complete, admired for everything you were. There was something so different about having that deep emotional connection before any inkling of physical attraction -- but that was most definitely there, too, burning deep in your belly and making your thighs squirm a bit.

His couch had never felt more comfortable than it did with you snuggled on it. It was impeccable, really, how smooth everything seemed to go despite how devastatingly nervous he was inside. Part of him wanted to text Reiner, maybe to gloat just a little bit, to revel in how he finally felt wanted by a beautiful girl that just so happened to lean into his side so casually it was like she was made to be there.

But, no, Bertholdt couldn't tear himself away from the moment, even for all the satisfaction that blabbing to the blonde might bring.

You hummed, utterly content in this mans hold, your core swirling as he rubbed little circles into your arm. His smell was intoxicating, something so clean and masculine and new but it felt so comfortable, so familiar in a strange way. How odd of a feeling, to be enamored with someone for so long and finally be able to feel them under your fingertips, take in their scent, even taste them if you so chose.

The thought brought electricity to life under your skin.

The movie still played idly on the TV, though truthfully, nobody was paying attention. Bertholdt realized this when he chanced a peek down, being met with a heavy gaze through thick lashes. His heart hammered in his ears.

"Hi," he breathed, so easily sucked into the beauty pressed against his side.

"Hi," you mirrored, nearly purring once he squeezed you closer, your head falling naturally against his chest. An experimental hand laid across his abdomen, spurring surprise at how toned he felt under the soft cotton. "This okay?" you cooed gently.

Bertholdt sucked in a sharp breath, feeling himself tense up as your fingers explored the peaks and valleys of his stomach. "Y-Yeah, that's okay," he watched you closely, deathly curious to see exactly what was happening before him.

"Bertie?"

The way you said that little nickname always made him melt. Though you could probably call him anything and he'd be quick to swoon.

"Mhm?"

With a tilt of his head, you leveraged yourself to lean up his torso and plant your lips across his own, eyes fluttering shut before you could spy the way his face immediately flamed up. Bertholdt's body lit up in record time, his skin searing and mind reeling -- it took a few seconds before he pulled together and leaned into you, but the action was eager, needy, incredibly charged. The sound of your lips working against each other overpowered the film, but was barely a thought in his mind over the subconscious screaming your intimate affections spurred in him. Embarrassingly enough, with a few swipes of your tongue against his, he could feel his dick growing harder and harder, just inches away from where your hand now played under his shirt. The man groaned softly into your mouth, worming his hand up to brush your hair away in utter adoration.

You pressed your thighs together, the fire between them becoming overwhelming as his hands curiously began to roam over you. He was so gentle, so cautious -- you leaned yourself further into him, shifting your hand down to grasp his thigh, but gasped into his mouth when you accidentally brushed over his bulge.

"S-Sorry," he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, "I'm... you're really pretty, and I just really like you--" it was Bertholdt's turn to gasp when you palmed him through his jeans, pressing down with teasing force.

"Don't be sorry," a catlike grin spread over your plump lips, "I don't mind at all. I really like you too, y'know." You bumped your nose against his in a sweet little nuzzle, completely eating up how his breathing quickened with your gentle rubbing. A few short, involuntary jerks from his hips completely fed your ego, ushering away any nerves that threatened to fray in the heated moment.

"Is it okay if I...?" he pressed his forehead to yours, finally prying his eyes open to watch you, uncertainty laying heavy in his green gaze. A coy giggle spilled out in all your excitement, taking his hand and pressing it against your chest, kneading a little bit for extra measure. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you could feel his cock twitch.

A cute hitch caught in his throat when your hand fell away from his, his guide lost. "I... um," he pressed against the soft swell curiously, "h-honestly, I'm not the most experienced."

You pecked his lips, heart swooning when he eagerly pecked back. " 's okay, Bertie, neither am I."

"Really?"

Playfully, you squeezed at his hard length. An unmistakable tingle pooled in your core when he slipped a delectable moan against your kiss-swollen lips.

"Really. But I feel so... comfortable with you. I'm down to try some things out, if you are," your words were honey, and he was soaking up every bit he could, his heart utterly slamming against its poor cage. Bertholdt nodded eagerly, eyes falling shut again with a hard swallow. "Y-Yeah, yeah, I'd like that, a lot," the slight quiver in his voice made you notice the throb between your legs.

Bertholdt was so addicting in every sense. The smell of his sheets gripped you, pulled you in, made you think about how gruff his morning voice would sound or how cute he'd look with sloppy chocolate bedhead. It was almost too perfect, how at ease you felt under his careful touch. The incredibly flustered look splayed over his face once his cock was freed sent you into a horny tizzy -- it was perfect, if a little intimidating: long, flushed at the tip, drooling precum as it hung heavy between his toned thighs.

"I-I've thought about this a lot," he breathed, saddling himself between your bare legs, "it doesn't feel real. You're so gorgeous, so perfect," he shyly traced his thumb up and down your drooling lips, mesmerized by the sheer amount of wetness pooling already. "I'm so fucking glad you're here with me."

Electric jolts shot through you once he found your clit, swollen and needy and begging to be played with. Instinct made your legs squeeze together around him, even if all your lust-riddled brain wanted was to open up as wide as you possibly could for more of his delicate touch. Bertholdt watched in near astonishment as you writhed under his hold, one hand settled gingerly on your thigh and the other rubbing sweet circles against your hot button.

Succulent moans slipped from your lips, giving him the biggest confidence boost in the world. "Keep doing that," you cooed, "feels s'good," eyes fluttering shut, your head nudged back against his pillows in a state of bliss. He listened obediently, swirling your clit, and pressed his silky cockhead against your heat. With all your juices nearly dripping out of you, he barely needed any pressure before he was slipping between your lips, the new sensation sending shivers down his spine. "F-Fuck," he hissed quietly, even more pre dribbling out in his excitement. Needy, nearly throbbing, you wriggled your hips against him.

"More, need more," you whined.

"You want more?" the brunette breathed, rocking against you, dipping just the very tip of his cock inside and pulling out again. "Please," came your desperate reply, "please fuck me, Bertie."

The request alone nearly made him cum. With a groan, Bertholdt urged himself further at a careful pace, faltering a tad but not relenting on your sensitive little clit. Stretching around him, the unique sensation left you a bubbling mess, gripping onto his forearms hard enough to leave little crescent moons along the lightly tanned skin. "A-Am I hurting you?" he gasped, pausing mid-thrust and leaving only half his long cock inside, despite how desperately he wanted to bury himself all at once. He wanted to get lost in you, in your warmth, your wetness, but not at the sake of your comfort. Feverishly, your head thrashed side to side, eyes popping open to catch his hazy gaze. " 's okay, I'm okay, I promise."

"Want you to feel good," his chest, slick with a light sheen of sweat, heaved so deliciously. It looked like he was falling apart at the seams. "Are you ready? C-Can I keep going?"

You bit your lip. Such a sweet fucking man, towering over you in all your indecency, tripping over himself to make sure you were alright. With a little mewl, you raised your hips, sucking in more of his hard dick. "More, more," you begged, "want you t'fill me up..."

It was all he needed, a strained little moan accompanying his push into you. Pelvis to pelvis, Bertholdt couldn't believe the sight in front of him. The woman he'd been hopelessly in love with, splayed out on his sheets, face twisted up in pleasure that he was more than willing to provide. It was real, you were real -- the pressure in his lower belly was absolutely real, coiling aggressively fast as he slid in and out of your wet pussy. The sensation was addicting, he decided, your gooey insides massaging him so perfectly it was hard to stop, and even harder to keep himself contained. "Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, forcing his eyes shut as he tried to find a rhythm between hip thrusts and messing with your clit. The circles grew sloppy, but he couldn't find it in himself to correct it, every moment drawing him closer and closer to release. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bertholdt gasped, his hips stuttering along with his words, " 'm so close," he nearly whined, completely in love with the way your body sucked him in so greedily. Your hands found their way to his chest, lightly scratching down to his abs, tipping closer and closer to your own orgasm with his delicious words and needy moans. " 'm I gonna make you cum, pretty boy?"

The brunette lost the battle, that coil inside him completely snapping under your sticky sweet words -- muttering incoherent praises, Bertholdt hung his head as he came, thrusting deep inside you to bury himself as far as he could. A tiny bit of sense knocked back into him with your wiggling, enough to pick up the pace on your clit while his cock eased in and out of you slowly, riding out the tail end of his orgasm and feeding your own.

Clenching, spasming, your cunt sucked onto him desperately, a silent cry falling out of you and sucking all the air out of your lungs. This was so incredibly different than cumming against your own fingers, hitting so much deeper and scratching an itch you didn't know you had until Bertholdt satisfied it so intensely. "So good, so fucking good," he panted, easing himself out of you once your muscles began to relax.

The glow that settled over you both was intoxicating. His room felt hot, heavy, as if there wasn't enough oxygen for your needy lungs as you tried to recover with shaky legs. He laid beside you, trying to muddle through the wave of emotions crashing against him as he gazed at your breathless form in his bed.

"Thank you," Bertholdt said rather innocently, pressing his nose into your messy hair.

You giggled. "Thank you, what an excellent host you've been."

"My pleasure," he sighed. It felt like he just ran one of Reiner's impossible marathons, leaving his muscles weak and brain foggy.

"Yeah, speaking of... do you mind if I use your shower?" your thighs pressed together, acutely aware of his cum threatening to dribble out of you. A strange sense of pride coupled with slight sheepishness filled his chest when he realized what you meant, agreeing immediately and taking you on a little tour of his apartment, starting with the bathroom.

"So, you do have an online girlfriend."

Reiner was looking rather smug, leaning against his forearms on Bertholdt's counter. He studied the little photobooth strip of you both stuck to the fridge as the brunette rummaged around in it. Bert looked happy, kissing your cheek in one of the squares, beaming in the next.

"Not just online," the taller man mused, "she's coming over later, so don't make a mess."

Almost like a proud parent, Reiner straightened and grinned, playfully dusting off the spot he just occupied. "Alright, alright," he mused, not missing the way Bertholdt smiled so effortlessly as he crossed the kitchen. It was refreshing to see him so happy. "I'll get out of your hair. You have fun on your little date."

Waving him off, Bertholdt grinned into the sink as he washed the vegetables for your dinner that night.

You were real. Not just you as a person, not just your feelings for him -- you two, as the inseparable berserker and mage duo -- your connection was real, infallible, undeniable.

God, he loved that damn VR headset.

Once again JJK nation, I am asking for your assistance in finding a post. I can’t remember which site it was on but it was a Sukuna x reader where you are his wife in the Heian era. One of your servants falls in love with you and Sukuna doesn’t let him live but he shields your eyes from the carnage 😭. If y’all find it please let me know it’s living in my mind rent free.

If not, anyone got recommendations for Heian era Sukuna x spouse reader? I am astronomically down bad.

#151 Lawlight

Achromatic

Light has been told his whole life that meeting his soulmate would change the way he sees the world. Well that is true, but he’d much prefer if everything had just stayed black and white.

Baking with Mami Tomoe

Making sweets with Tomoe is the best

Tomoe will try to make it more entertaining for you other than baking in quietness

If you don't know how to bake Tomoe would teach you the basics first

In the first few tries you were actually really good for a beginner which made Tomoe impressed

Tomoe will let you choose on what you want to make first

The both of you would sometimes scold Bebe for eating some of the ingredients

Sometimes you and Tomoe would have food fights and playfully boop each other's noses with flour or complete each other on whose the best at baking

In the end the both of would eat the sweets that you made with Bebe and drink tea

I changed my L&DS VA language to Korean bcs i was curious and Caleb’s voice sounds so familiar. He sounds like MM’s 707 and when I googled for his Korean VA, apparently the guy who voiced 707 voiced Caleb too 😳

Also, I love how MC calls Zayne “oppa” in Korean. It’s cute 🥺 And he calls Caleb “oppa” too!

Puella Magi Kumo Magica

Quick sketch ik

Brothers

warmth

JJK Men | Reactions to you saying “I love you” during sex

❧ Choso, Toji, & True Form Sukuna

❧ Warnings: fem bodied reader, rough sex, size difference, slight/hinted angst, dacryphilia

“I love you.”

Choso’s eyes are wide as he looks down at you, cock throbbing inside of you even as your words have left him frozen to the point that you’re not quite sure he’s breathing.

“Ch-Choso?”

The noise he makes is somewhere between a sob and a moan as his eyes get misty, and you brush a little of his hair behind his ears - both to see his face better and to stop it from tickling you as it hangs down. You tighten your thighs around him, hoping to get a more solid response from him, and when that doesn’t jolt him from whatever path his mind was taking him down, you clench his cock gently.

His arms give, as he lets his full body weight fall on top of you, suddenly giving you frenzied sloppy thrusts. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, moaning and panting until he can finally form his thoughts into words, even if they’re hot and slightly muffled against your skin.

“I’m that special? That you love me?”

You run your fingers through his hair, trying to stay coherent even as his thrusts get harder and harder, thick head of his cock outright battering your sweet spot as his emotion moves him to be much rougher than he usually was.

“Y-yes, Choso. I love y-“

“I love yoooou.” He can’t help interrupting, face still buried and arms pinned helplessly beneath you like all the strength left in him was only able to go straight to his hips in pursuit of rushing you into joining the orgasm that was now fast approaching him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Toji is tricky. Soft when you need it, rough when you need that too, even if you don’t realise it. But then he’s not there when you need him, not all the way. Between the coy smiles and teasing words, plucking the very things you want to hear straight from your mind to present to you in a way that makes you second guess the nature of things between you two, he still has a gauzy slip of distance between you two. You know there are things about him you don’t understand, and you think he’ll never give you the opportunity to.

Still, when he’s fucking you like this it doesn’t just feel like fucking, it feels like more. With his hand on top of your head to keep you held firm beneath him as he rolls his hips into you in that way that has tears forming at the corners of your eyes. With his scarred lips kissing away the dew as it slips past your fluttering lashes and down your face. With his words low and sweet and filled with assurances that you were made for this, made for him.

He’s holding you so close and so tight, like you might just fly away if he didn’t, like you mightn’t let him take care of you like you needed if he doesn’t keep you wrapped up in him. It’s not all that different from how you treat him in a way: slow approach, soft words, but you haven’t quite gotten to the part where you pounce. Where you grasp him as tightly as he has you, wings flattened to writhing sides, because you don’t think you’re strong enough to hold him like that.

So you keep with the soft approach, slow and steady, this time adding sweet words as you let a breathy cry slip past your lips - half hoping he might not hear it.

He does, both hands holding your face now, brushing your hair back, beckoning you to open your eyes even as his hips keep moving you deeper into delirium. “Hm?”

You look at him, hoping he can see how much you meant it in your eyes, hoping to see the same in his, but he’s as unreadable as ever.

“C’mon, say it again.”

You don’t know if you can, but he pushes you the way he always does, like only he truly knows your limits.

“I wanna hear it again, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

All sense slips away when Sukuna is pounding you like this, hips snapping viciously, cock finding depths you did not know were there each time he presses forward. You’ll say anything, do anything, while he fucks you until all you have are your basest instincts. He just always manages to turn you into something you don’t even recognize and loves every second of it.

He’s grinning, chuckling and panting all in one as he watches you - hips held in the air by his lower arms, shoulders sliding against the hard wood, feet planted on the floor beneath you like they were truly aiding in the balance you were long past having. His upper arms move between groping roughly at your breasts, or making sure you watch him as you drool and whine and beg for more even as your eyes are rolling and your body is on the verge of collapse.

He tells you this is the real you - pushed to the brink, hair matted, sweat clinging to your body until you’re unsure how he can keep such a firm grasp on your slippery skin. You make noises you didn’t know possible, noises that would embarrass you if you didn’t have that pride lodged in your chest at knowing Sukuna sounded just as feral when he fucks you.

The thoughts that come to you in moments like these, when you can form any thoughts at all, are so muddied that you can’t tell if they’ve truly come from you or if they’ve been picked up from the string of filthSukuna chants from all mouths.

“This is how it’s meant to be.”

“This is what I’m good for.”

“I need it.”

“I love it.”

“I love you.”

For once, you try to keep clear headed on the tip of his cock, trying to find the source of such an admission. Your eyes try to focus, only to be met with the same wicked gaze you’ve been performing under all along. So you repeat it, hoping to parse if it had been your voice in the first place, if it felt as jarring and fulfilling as it had before.

“I love you.”

He bends down, massive form covering you, obscuring everything but him as he bites down onto your shoulder, drawing weak cries from you as you clamp down harder on his cock - yet another orgasm approaching at his behest.

“I love you.”