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frantic-fiction · 4 months

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Shattered Glass 18+

(Gif: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: Astarion finally makes do on a promise.

This is part 2 of Secluded Evening. (Could be read as a stand alone)

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral fem receiving, PnV sex, unprotected sex, biting (of course) Astarion being a lovesick fool

Word count: 2.6k

Astarion threw another log on the fire; a flurry of embers took flight, dancing in the cold night air. The rest of the camp had already settled in their tents. You were nestled between his knees about five feet away from the flames. A throw blanket cascaded down your shoulders—a notebook on your lap.

He studies the rapid strokes of your hand from over your shoulder. The rough lines of charcoal were blooming into an identical copy of Laz'eal. Astarion pulled a strand of hair away from your eyes and began to weave your locks into a simple braid. He doesn't have a hair tie, and knowing you, you've lost yours. So, he twists the pieces, and once done let's go, kissing the crown of your head.

You barely acknowledge him, and when you suddenly shove the pencil over your shoulder, Astarion chuckles, taking it from you. He watches you begin smudging the charcoal with the pad of your finger. You're adorable when your art consumes you. Every time, it captivates Astarion.

This was how most of your nights were spent. Not always precisely like this; sometimes Astarion brought a book, and sometimes your hand got too sore to draw, so Astarion read to you as you curled on his lap. But as long as it was spent in each other's company neither of you cared much for the activity.

Astarion adored these nights the most, primarily because he could feast his eyes on your beauty without you shying away or throwing a stupid joke at him to break the tension. You were perfect in every way, and when he opened his heart briefly and confessed the broken pieces of himself and the motivations that led him to you. All you did was look at him with unspoken love and hugged him.

Your relationship became something more after that. Sex was not what drew the two of you together. For the first time in 200 years, Astarion had someone he trusted with his every sense of the word. Someone who wanted more than his body and showed their love for him without words. Someone he wanted to spend every moment of his life with despite the fear that thought causes him.

Astarion thinks he loves you but can't find the words when his mouth opens. He's always struggled with expressing his true feelings, but he wants to try with you. He wants to bear his heart to you and show you all that you mean to him. And with all the trust you and Astarion have established, one thing has become a very big problem.

You have begun to treat Astarion like glass, as if one sexual touch will break him. And frankly, it's pissing him off. Astarion finally has complete control over his body and a partner who he trusts. A partner that can bring him to his knees with a simple giggle and to put it bluntly, gods you were fucking sexy.

He's frustrated, horny, and has no idea how to ask for anything he wants. And for fucks sake, if he wakes from a meditation to have you grinding against his erection again, he just might explode.

In his frustrated musing, he didn't notice that you had placed your sketch pad away. He only noticed when you cupped his jaw and moved his eyes to meet yours. "What are you thinking about, handsome?"

It takes a moment for Astarion to collect himself as he stares at your soft smile. "I was thinking it's about time we get you, my sweet, to bed," he pecks your lips before grabbing your wrist and entwining your fingers. You nod and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

Astarion holds the flap open, and you duck inside. Kicking your pants off and into the corner, you unceremoniously plop down into the pile of cushions. You began sharing a tent in the shadow curse lands. Astarion found out pretty early on that nightmares of Cazador were less likely when you were in his arms. And thankfully, you slept better, too.

You prop yourself on your elbows and silently watch Astarion move about the small space, removing his outer clothing. He seemed to be stalling, almost like he was silently debating with himself. Astarion is in his underwear when he seems to come to a conclusion. He takes a deep breath and moves towards you. Kneeling by your feet, you watch as Astarion hesitates, his hand resting softly on your shin. Hesitation is soon replaced with a devilish smirk that stretches across his lips.

"Whatcha thinking about pretty boy?"

Astarion doesn't say anything, just slowly begins to crawl up your body before capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. His knee is between your legs; your hands are around his neck, pulling him flush against your body. You sigh softly into his mouth, moving your hands to caress his cheekbone.

He tongues the seam of your lips, and you are quick to gasp, giving him access to lick deeper. Astarion's hands are caressing up and down your curves, cupping your breast and tugging the metal bars of your nipple rings. His mouth moves to your throat, sucking hard at your jugular.

"W-wait!" You choke out, causing the elf above you to freeze. He's quick to remove himself from you, putting some distance between your bodies.

"Shit, did…did I do something wrong?" Astarion's voice cracks; you've never heard him so unsure of himself. You pant hard but are quick to sit up and fall into Astarion's lap, his arms instinctually wrapping around your waist.

"No, gods no," you sigh, cupping his jaw and pressing your forehead against his. The tension in Astarion's shoulders drops, and he squeezes you a bit harder.

"Then what is it, my sweet?"

That has you pausing to figure out the best way to say this. "What was your plan?" Shit, that didn't sound good

"My plan! Are you serious?" He's already pulling away, shutting off completely when you pull him back tightly.

"No! Th-that's fuck, that's not what I meant, Star," at least he's not trying to run, but he's as stiff as ever. "Astarion, I will be as blunt as possible because I care about you. Were you trying to have sex with me because you felt obligated?"

This isn't what Astarion expected you to say because he can't mask the look of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut. He does this twice more, but you don't rush him, you push stray curls behind his ear and wait.

"No." His voice is small. He clears his throat before speaking again, stronger this time. "No, I want this, and I would appreciate you stop treating me like fucking glass."

“What?”

You're flipped over, and suddenly, on your back, Astarion's body pressed closely against yours. He ruts against you. His cock was hard, feeling painfully constricted in his underwear. "I appreciate your patience with me, darling, but I need to clarify one thing to you right now."

Astarion licks a long stripe up your collarbone, ending just under your ear. You moan softly, trying desperately to roll your hips up into Astarion. "I have never wanted someone more than I wanted you. So, if it's okay with you, my sweet, I'm going to take the rest of our clothes off, and you're going to finally let me feast upon the sweetness between your legs."

You whine and buck, trying to get anything from Astarion's unmoving body. "Tsk, no, no, my sweet. Use your words." He purred, nipping your ear.

"Please! Yes! Oh gods, Astarion,"

Once the words leave your lips, you're tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. After you are both fully undressed, Astarion shoves you back onto the cushions. You expect him to pounce but he hovers staring down at your naked body.

Astarion's deft fingers grab your foot, and he presses a soft kiss to your inner ankle. A pang of heat flared through your lower abdomen. He kisses up to the top of your calf before giving a playful bite. You release a soft yelp, and Astarions lavishes the bite with his tongue. He slowly moves up to your inner thigh, leaving various bruises in his wake.

You're gasping as he ghosted over the spot you wanted him most. His breath fans over your dripping cunt, and you swear he's about to give you what you want. Then he kisses you. Just one small peck on the public area just above your clit, before he retreats. You cry, and one of your hands card into Astarion's white locks.

“No! Please!”

He begins the same slow ascent up your other leg, paying just as much attention. "Now, as much as I love those beautiful noises you make for me. Remember that our camp members are trying to sleep; you can be a good girl for me, right?" He gazes up between your parted legs, and you nod and swear if he asked at this moment, you would have given him anything.

"I thought so," Astarion purred before licking up the entire length of your pussy. You moan out and swiftly clap your hand over your mouth. Then suddenly Astarion is a man starved.

His hand grips the underside of your thighs hard and pulls you down the bed as close as physically possible. He sucks, and licks, piercing his tongue sloppily at your dripping cunt, and you're a mess of pleasure. Your grind against Astarion's face, his nose rubbing beautifully against your clit. If it weren't for Astarion's hands keeping your thighs parted, you probably would be crushing his head in your desperation.

A low groan rumbles from Astarion's chest, and he focuses his attention, sucking tightly on the bundle of nerves. He slips his first and middle finger into your cunt and curls up, causing you to gasp for air.

"S-star…oh gods!" You cried, and he was ruthless with his assault. Astarion pumped his fingers quickly, the sloppy sounds of his mouth mixed with your muffled moan. Your stomach was coiling with pleasure, and you were embarrassed with how fast Astarion was picking you apart. "I'm close." you whimper, rolling your hips against his face.

Astarion, after a moment, releases your clit. Still pumping you with his fingers, he looks up at you, chin glistening with your arousal, a smug grin lazily plaster on his lips. "Come for me, love, be a good girl."

With the last few slips of his fingers, the coil snaps, and you're falling apart. Eyes unfocused, muscled tight, the silent gasp of ecstasy stuck in your throat. Astarion watches in amazement and arousal as you come apart so thoroughly with just his mouth and fingers. His cock is aching pre, now dribbling down the shaft.

Once your orgasm slows, you feel the immense need for more. And with Astarion still nestled between your legs, it has you moving without thought. You push Astarion back and plant yourself on his lap. You mash your mouth against him, chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Astarion groans and cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your palms roam down his chest, smoothing down his abs until you come to his neglected cock. It's swollen and red, and when you grip it softly, Astarions hisses into your mouth, bucking into your palm.

Smearing the pre-come around, you slowly work your hand up and down Astarion's dick in long, languid strokes. His eyes glaze over, and he moans, head dropping to your shoulder. Astarion's cold hands fondled your breast, and he leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulls the metal piercing softly with his teeth.

You whine and tug on a fist full of Astarion's hair, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. "Fuck, darling." Astarion moans, moving to give your other breast equal attention. Your positive marks will be littering your body for days following. And the thought alone causes you to clench your thighs.

You pump your hand faster, and Astarion meets everyone with thrusts of his hips. He claims your lips again in a sloppy dance of wet tongues. Then suddenly Astarion stills your hand.

"If you keep this up, I'm not going to last much longer." Astarion's pants, nudging your nose with his.

"Isn't that kinda the point, handsome?"

"Not if I want to come apart feeling you clenching around me," Astarion's voice is breathless, and you moan at the thought. He kisses your cheek, then your jaw. Trailing his way to your neck. "Would you like that, my sweet,"

Whatever power you had over Astarion had just turned to dust. You bite your lip and nod quickly, letting Astarion push you on to your back. You part your hips, and Astarion slots right in.

"Words, my love. You do know how much I love your voice." Such a fucking tease.

Linking your arms around his neck, you pull him down, hitching one of your legs over Astarion's hips. "Please…I need you to fuck me."

"Shit…" Astarion groans. Taking himself in hand, he smears his dick with your arousal before filling you agonizing inch by inch.

The two of you let out a collective cry of pleasure, and you feel complete. Astarion pulls out and slams his hips back, ripping the oxygen from your lungs, and sets a steady pace. You clutch at his shoulders, digging your nails into exposed skin. The slick sounds of Astarions pumping in and out of you were depraved and did nothing but fill your lower abdomen with molten lava. Astarion wholly consumed your senses.

The coolness of his lips left lingering kisses on your arched neck. The smell of bergamot and rosemary flooded your nose with each shaky inhale. The saltiness of any skin you could taste. It was too much and not enough all at once.

The scrape of Astarion's fangs graze his favorite feeding spot, and you grab the back of his head. "Yes! P-please…" and soon, the icy pierce of his teeth is followed by the cool tingle of pleasure that flows through your body.

Astarion grunts as soon as the blood touches his tongue. He ruts faster against you, grinding you into the blankets. He has to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your voice from waking the whole camp.

But what can you do? Nothing. Not when his other hand begins to roll your clit in tight circles matching his thrusts. Your hands trail down his back, legs hooking tightly around his torso. The angle of your hips changes, and Astarion is pounding into the spot that has you seeing stars. You're close, and you try to say so, but Astarion hand is still tight around your mouth.

After a last mouthful of blood, Astarions peppers kisses over the bite. "I know, my sweet, I'm…fuck I'm close to."

His fingers are rubbing your clit faster, and his hips aren't letting up the brutal pace. Your legs are quaking, and you feel like you might faint. You clench tightly around him, and then you fall apart. Suddenly, Astarion's hand is gone, and his tongue is in your mouth, capturing every whimper of pleasure you give. And with a few more swallow sloppy thrusts, Astarion falls over the edge with you, filling you with his spent.

Astarion continue to languidly kiss you, both hands cupping your face like you are the most precious creature on the plane. He barely grinds his hips, feeling the last of your orgasms fade until you are both too sensitive.

And it's like someone cut the puppet strings. Astarion falls limply onto you, blanketing your body with his. You comb softly through his hair, gently pulling out any knots. Astarion kisses your shoulder before rolling off of you.

It is silent for a while as you stare into each other's eyes. Astarions is the first to speak. "I love you," His words were barely above the whisper, and if you weren't staring intently at the man, you might have missed it.

You're speechless. Were you dreaming?

"I still believe you deserve more than the broken man before you. But you've chosen me, and I have felt true happiness for the first time since waking up in my grave. And well-"

You don't give him a moment to finish before you're in his lap and tackling him into an embrace. "I love you, Astarion."

The dopey grin on his face has you breaking into your own. You press your forehead to his, and he hugs you tightly. You don't know what tomorrow brings. But being here, seeing Astarion's smile, and knowing he loves you just as much as you love him. It feels like you can do anything.

Okay, friends, this was just so fun to write. Let me know what ya thought. I swear all the love and support I've received from my last few posts have been so amazing. I'm so excited to show you more!!!

If you liked this, maybe you'll like one of these?

Happy Birthday (fluffy)

Reoccurring Nightmares (hurt/comfort)

Tag list?: @heartfully10

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #reader insert #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #smut

2K notes · View notes

joonberriess · 9 months

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⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”

TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”

WORD COUNT — 2.6 k

“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.

“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.

“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.

“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”

Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.

You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.

“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.

Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.

“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.

You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.

You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.

Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.

You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.

Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.

He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.

You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”

“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”

You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.

Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.

Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.

“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.

Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.

Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.

“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.

“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.

Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.

Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”

“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.

“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.

Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.

“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.

You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.

Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”

“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.

“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.

Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.

Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”

With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.

You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.

Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.

“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.

Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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satoruxx · 9 months

Note

omg so like i saw ur event open and uhm what afe akaashi + this side of paradise by coyote theory 🫶

pairing: akaashi keiji x reader | 2.1k+ words summary: college au, student akaashi, pining (ofc), basically reader monologuing about her crush on akaashi for 2k words (i mean same), both of them are introverted af tho, which means they're both idiots (i'm speaking from experience hehe), nerds being nerds, overall just lots of fluff and overthinking !! a/n: AKIIIII hello hello <333 ty for sending this in lovely !! can you believe this is my first time writing for a haikyuu character?? and it so happens to be akaashi skhfkdjds i adore him !! this was so cute to write i was kicking my feet and giggling. i remember being obsessed with this song a few years ago and now that i wrote this i've been listening to it on repeat !! anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe <3

literature class was by far your favorite one of the day. you liked the stories you got to read, because it meant that you could fall into a world of your own and let your mind race with ideas. you liked how kind the professor was, passionately speaking about a subject only few could teach. you liked that it was an afternoon class, not too early for sleep to still be clinging to your eyes and yet not too late for the day's exhaustion to hit your body.

and you liked the way akaashi keiji looked as he intently listened to the lecture.

it was an accident at first. you'd gone into the lecture hall on the first day as early as you could, just so that you could scope out the corner most seat. the one away from the front where all eyes rest, but close enough from the far back so you could still pay attention. it was a fairly unpopular place to sit, so you wouldn't have to worry about any chatty seatmates trying to pull you out of your comfort zone.

only after a week of class, during one of the more boring lectures when your focus was waning and your eyes were wandering, did you notice him. akaashi keiji sitting in the row in front of you, closer to the other side of the room but angled in the perfect position for you to see his side profile.

his fingers curl under his chin as he rests his face in his palm, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose precariously. he doesn't seem to mind though, eyes roaming over the board before settling on the professor again. occasionally, he'll look down at his notes to jot something down and then fidde with the pen mindlessly.

you just think he happens to look very pretty.

not that you'd ever tell him that.

no, you'd much rather stay hidden in your quiet corner of the lecture hall, where you can simply observe from the side. where you can avoid opening your mouth because oh god you know if you ever spoke you'd make an absolute fool of yourself.

it's better for you to remain alone, because that's how you've always preferred it to be. that's how you like it.

you think maybe that's why you're drawn to akaashi keiji.

he reminds you of yourself. always alone but never unhappy. he seems to enjoy solitude, just like you do. even when you manage to catch a glimpse of him around campus, he is by himself, nose buried in a book or pencil dragging against sheets of paper. he'll occasionally have headphones plugged into his ears, drowning out the world in a way you know all too well.

you like that about him, how similar he is to you. sometimes your friends will tell you that you need to socialize more, because human interaction is healthy and required and oh so important. they're right, but they don't understand how difficult it can be when you're so used to your own company. or when your brain is constantly conjuring up ideas on how strange you must look or sound. you think you'd much rather wait for the opportunity to socialize to fall right into your lap, not seek it out yourself.

so yes, in your opinion, it's completely acceptable to settle for just admiring akaashi keiji from afar. every time you sit in literature class you're grateful enough to just get the chance to see the small things he does. which pen he'll choose to write with for today's lecture, or whether he'll forgo paying attention to instead bury his face in a novel. that's enough for you.

but right now you need to push thoughts of akaashi keiji out of your head. you need to focus on finishing your reading assignment for literature class. and you want to focus, but it seems like every where you go someone is intent on making it as difficult as possible for you. you head to the library, and it's oddly loud in there. you try to find an empty classroom, and they're all filled with students. you just need a quiet place on campus where you could be alone and focus.

but you can't find any. you're about to give up and head back to your apartment when you spot a small alcove in one of the campus gardens, hidden by stone walls and leafy vines.

you send a quick thanks to the heavens and take a seat, making yourself comfortable and pulling out your book and notes. you don't know how long you sit there, cut off from the outside world as you read through pages and pages of the story, occasionally taking notes and rereading passages. you're only aware of the way the sun travels across the sky, indicating that time is indeed moving. you like it here, in this little space away from the rest of society, and you think you could remain here for so much longer.

"what do you think of it?"

you look up and your stomach drops as your eyes take in akaashi keiji standing over you, his bag slung over his shoulder. you only gape at him, not having enough time to prepare yourself for this sudden interaction. all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"the book. what were your thoughts?" he asks again, pointing down at the novel laying in your lap. you have to force yourself to stop staring at him and open your mouth.

"it's ridiculous." you answer lamely and akaashi's lips quirk upwards.

"it's a shakespearean tragedy..." he says and you suddenly think that your answer might've been a dumb one, but then he's nodding in what seems to be agreement. your breath catches as he bends down to take a seat next to you. "...of course it's got themes of ridiculousness."

the soft fabric of his sweater brushes against your skin and you almost choke, because your palms feel sweaty and your heart is racing and you think you might be breathing too loudly and-

"i felt the same way." he says, his finger coming to rest on one of the sticky notes you've put in the margin, where your summarized thoughts are scribbled down. "though i firmly believe desdemona was the true victim of the play."

you're still blinking at him owlishly, and you can practically see the way his shoulders drop as he attempts to withdraw his forwardness. "i'm sorry i shouldn't have-"

"i agree," you say hurriedly, effectively halting his words. "she deserved better than what she got. if i were her i would've blamed him for killing me instead of myself."

akaashi blinks, before a light smile graces his face, and he's nodding along with you. "for sure. leave it to the male main character to make the ending all about him."

you laugh before you can stop yourself, fiddling with the corners of the page. "i think we're dumbing it down a little too much."

"we probably are." akaashi muses, his fingers coming up to nudge at his glasses before they slip down his nose. he pauses for a second, glancing at you carefully before speaking again. "you...sit in the row behind me, right?"

oh no, has he noticed the way you stare at him? does he think you're creepy? you don't even want to hear what he has to say next. what if he-

"this is usually where i come to read alone. i've never seen anyone else here before." he continues, looking around the hidden little alcove.

you panic subsides and you immediately feel guilty. "oh shoot, i'm so sorry. i was looking for a quiet place to finish the book and i passed by here. i didn't mean to-"

akaashi is shaking his head immediately, hushing your apologies with a laugh. "no no, it's alright. i didn't mean to make you think i was angry about it. i don't mind sharing this spot. it works wonders when you need some quiet time."

maybe it's the tone of his voice or the way his eyes shine behind the frames of his glasses, but you find yourself relaxing before you can process it, giving him a half smile and a small shrug. "that's nice of you. i just...know how annoying it can be when people invade your space. especially when you want to be alone."

akaashi pauses, giving you a curious glance before his faces eases into a warm smile. he nods just slightly before shrugging. “that’s true. but…i don’t find myself all that annoyed right now.”

it’s obviously not meant in any other way but friendly, but that doesn’t stop his words from making your heart race. you only give him a shaky lopsided grin and try to take a leap of faith.

"well how did you feel about the ending monologue?" you ask, and akaashi chuckles, easing into the wall behind him as an invisible weight is lifted from his shoulders. he begins to answer your question, and a slight feeling of pride bubbles in your stomach.

you're actually talking to akaashi keiji. you took the leap of faith.

and it pays off because akaashi remains there with you for hours after that. you both take turns ranting about the novel, eventually drifting off into other topics that have the two of you easily conversing like you had been friends for years. by the time night has fallen and you both are packing your things, you're wondering why you were ever nervous to begin with.

“i’m glad that you found this place. it’s really peaceful.” you comment with an easy going smile and akaashi returns it almost immediately.

his tone is light when he speaks up. “you’re welcome back here anytime.”

you end up taking him up on the offer many times afterward.

a part of you worries that maybe he might find you annoying. but he always just gives you that soft smile, patting the ground next to him as he allows you to invade his space over and over again.

besides you don’t know this yet, but he only allows this for you.

because truthfully, akaashi keiji has thought you were pretty since the moment he first saw you in literature class. he’s not prideful enough to deny the way his eyes have drifted over to you during the lectures. to watch the way you tap your pen against your lips or to gaze at you when you doodle on the corner of your notes.

but he figured these feelings were something he'd keep to himself because god knows akaashi was nothing if not introverted. he would never have even dared to approach you and open his mouth since he knew in his gut that he would somehow fumble his words once he was in front of you. so why would he risk it? he wouldn't, he decided. he had made up his mind.

but then you're in front of him, curled up against the stone walls of his reading spot, all immersed in your book and his legs are carrying him forward before he can even process it. and then he's blurting out all these words while cursing himself internally because he can practically see the hesitation in your face as he basically forces you out of your comfort zone. why did he do it? he loved seeing you in your own little world, an easy smile on your face as you enjoyed your own company. now he's shattering your peace, dragging you out of it by the ankles and he wants to kick himself.

but you're always such a pleasant surprise, welcoming him into your space like it's nothing. and he knows it's not nothing. if there's anyone who can understand what a struggle it is to reach out a hand to someone, it's him. but he's grateful you built up the courage to continue a conversation with him. because now he finally has his foot in the door, and it's given him a confidence boost he sorely needed.

now that he meets you almost everyday in your shared little corner, talking about the most mundane and trivial things like it's always been a thing between you two, he feels better about what's to come. because he's dragged you into his space too, and you've become so integral to it that he can't imagine what it was like to be lonely in the first place.

but hopefully, you like being lonely with him too. because soon enough he's going to blurt out his true feelings in the form of a shaky jumbled confession, and all he can do is hope and pray you feel the same.

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 1 year

Note

Hii! Do you think you could do soft!Dallas Winston x female reader that likes art (drawing painting sometimes photography) headcanons please? Thank you so much and it’s ok if you don’t want to do it. ❤️

A/N: I wouldn't consider myself an artist, but I did complete an oil painting class once, and I make a lot of little crafts. I'm more into the non-popular forms of art, like photography and crocheting actually, embroidery too. But yeah! I hope you like these, Non!

If you’re into art? Regardless of what medium it may be, you’re gonna have the perfect muse

All it’s gonna do is feed his ego, but please oh please draw/paint/snap pictures of Dally

He’s got a sharp face shape those eyes, regardless if you’re following the Book!Dally or Matt Dillon!Dally

I love both, personally, but y’know, sometimes people have different, opinions, that’s cool too

But back to the art, he’s perfect as a model, if you ignore the part that you’ll probably have to really try to get him to pose for you

But most of the time? You won’t have to, I think he’s just kind of photogenic like that, especially when he wants to be

After posing for so many mugshots, I think he’d appreciate being photographed by someone who actually cares about him, y’know?

I highly suggest just taking photos of Dal when he doesn’t realize it too, I have a feeling he would make some super epic facial expressions and just have the best look on his face

For example, the face he’s making when he tries to light a cigarette and lighter won’t strike, the smile on his face when he’s standing and fooling around with Johnny, the way the corners of his eyes get a little softer whenever he’s looking back at you

If you weren’t taking pictures of him, he’s gonna try and photobomb your pictures or mess with your camera

He thinks he’s being funny, but he’s really just being annoying, I apologize in advance on Dally’s behalf

But hey, there’s a bunch of other things I could go on about, but I’ve got more art mediums to cover-

If you want to paint him….I wish you best of luck, he can be a little whiny and definitely doesn’t have the patience to sit while paint is drying

My suggestion to you is to paint as much of Dally as you can when he’s willing to sit, maybe end up bribing him with a few kisses and the promise of a date or something like that

And when he doesn’t want to sit? Just work on the background

Eventually, he’ll get bored of not having your attention, he can be kinda of needy like that, and he’ll come back, asking if you need him to sit again

If you’re not painting him, maybe you’ve got a school project or just painting for fun, but Dally will constantly pester you about what you’re doing, why you’re doing it that way, why you’re using those colors with that brush

He’s annoying, alright? I don’t know what else to tell you

But he’s very proud of your work. If it’s hung up anyway, he’s very quick to go check it out, even if that means taking a trip back to school and walking through the hallways

If anyone has something to say about your art, they’d better start running <3

If you just like to doodle? Maybe just use pencils, colored or not?

I cannot emphasize enough how sharp Dal’s cheekbones are and how much fun they would be to draw

Just? *waves vaguely to his face* what can’t you love about that?

An artist’s dream, just look at that face and all the juxtaposition-

But yeah!

Draw him, draw on canvas, draw in sketchbooks, draw in the corners of your notebooks, the margins of your papers, Dally will love all of it

If you draw him something, something small, he’ll tuck it into his wallet, I promise

Will he tell you he did that? Probably not, that’s too cheesy for the big, bad Dallas Winston

But I’m telling you it’s gonna be there, so just trust me on that <3

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years

Note

Ok, seems dumbass S/O x Riddler is going good so time for another one.

He says once again that she's an idiot out of frustration and she says "But you love me?" But this time there's no teasing in her voice, instead she ask it quietly and looked worried. Like she isn't sure anymore. I want boys to show her love.

BTAS, JL, Arkham

A/N: as a wee simpleton myself this hit home for me rip

Trigger Warnings: None really, just some mean, mean green beans but only for a minute, then it gets fluffy

Riddlers x Dumb F! Reader - I Love You, Idiot!

Batman The Animated Series Riddler:

The desk was riddled with blue prints, scattered post it's, pencils and pens. Some new and sharpened. Others used, blunt, and only eraser heads.

Edward growled in frustration as he crumpled up another mock up for his next puzzle toy, and tossed it over his shoulder. It just wasn't working. It wasn't up to his standards. Too simple, already done before, or not good enough.

"Hey Eddie, did you drop this?" You came into the room after knocking softly and hearing no response. You saw the crumpled piece of paper and picked it up.

You and your nonsense and nonsensical questions.

"No…Y/N. The paper I clearly crumpled up and threw away over my shoulder…I did not drop. God you're so foolish sometimes…"

"But you still love me right?"

Edward dropped the new pencil he grabbed from his desk and his eyes widened. Oh, he really should watch what he says around you. His face fell when he turned around and saw you weren't joking either, you really wanted to know.

Your head was down to the ground, you were rubbing your arms, and your feet were shuffling.

He got up from his chair and wrapped his arms around you in an embrace.

"Of course I love you, I love everything about you, your smile, your laugh, everything. They bring me more comfort than any riddle or puzzle. I'm so sorry I shouldn't take my frustrations out on you…" He kissed your forehead.

You started giggling softly. "No, no I do ask pretty stupid questions at times, I just care so much I think with my heart than my head.."

"I would rather you ask them all the time than to never hear you at all."

You blushed at that, causing Edward to grin and keep peppering your face with kisses to keep you smiling and laughing.

Young Justice Riddler:

This recon mission was taking way longer than he planned.

None of his usual tricks were working, the network he was working with was flimsy at best. He didn’t have to worry about the corporation figuring him out, he couldn’t get too deep without being disconnected.

He was just minutes away from tossing everything onto the floor, but he realizes he probably couldn’t lift it all and didn’t want to make a bigger fool out of himself.

“How’s it going, Ed?” You plopped down in the seat next to his, looking over his shoulder.

Ah, yeah and there was you. At least he didn’t have to suffer alone…but he would much prefer the quiet.

“Well, as well it did thirty minutes ago.” He grumbled crossing his arms over his chest in a huff.

You bit your lip. Thirty minutes ago was a long time ago…

“Uh, how well did it go thirty minutes ago?” You asked meekly.

Ed groaned. “Terribly, it’s going terribly, Y/N! I’m still stuck on this stupid firewall cause of this stupid spotty connection. And to top it off I’m stuck with someone stupid!” Ed wiped his face and groaned again in agitation.

Nothing was working and nothing was going right.

“But you still love me…right? Even though I’m stupid?”

Everything stopped in that moment. The minute those words fell from your lips everything shattered. Edward didn’t care about the mission, the connection, the firewalls, anything. Your words rang in his ears and his brain.

Oh my God!

He quickly turned in his seat next to you and put both of his hands on your shoulders. Normally, Ed would be too flustered to even touch your hand, but the panic that settled over him hurting you took over whatever shyness he usually projected.

“I-I-um…yes...yeah...I-I do. I-I’m sorry I just, I’m just frustrated that something so simple isn’t being…simple..” Ed’s face was getting redder by the second. He really did care, but he hoped it spoke more in his actions than him having to verbally say them out loud…like now.

Edward almost jumped out of his skin when your hands reached up to your shoulders to grab his hands and bring them to your lap.

“D-Do you really mean it, Edward?”

Ed cringed, he hated it when you called him his full name. He’s grown quite attached to the way you sweetly call him “Eddie.” But that’s also how he knew you were being serious in your question.

He had to do something though, he did care about you, a lot. This was all still new to him but he didn’t want to lose you now, not over something small.

After gulping down the frog in his throat. He took both of your hands in his and squeezed them. “I-I do, I l-love you, Y-Y/N…even when you’re being…s-silly!”

You giggled before lunging at him in a hug. “I love you too, you dork!”

Arkhamverse Riddler:

It didn’t sound good at all.

Loud clunks and clatters of metal, tools, and chairs could be heard down the sewer corridors.

You really, really shouldn’t be down here. You should stay in the upper level, in the bedroom and wait like he asked.

But you were worried. You swore you could hear him curse something out, maybe in pain? He’s probably just frustrated again…oh, but what if he’s not though?

Forget it, he can be mad, call me stupid, I don’t care…I have to know. He’ll probably just call me stupid regardless.

Your heart hurt a little at that more than likely assumption. At first you thought you could just keep pushing it away and keep ignoring it then it wouldn’t hurt you. Little did you know you were one more “stupid” away from a complete break down.

You knocked, but Edward didn’t respond. You opened the door and there he laid in a heap on the floor of parts and tools.

“Oh my God! Edward are you okay?”

Edward groaned as his hands cradled his head like he’s subsiding a headache. Until he looked up at you with cold green eyes.

“What? What’re you doing here, Y/N?! How many times do I have to tell you not to come in unless I say so!” Edward was already boiling from a concoction of exhaustion, frustration, and stress. When he saw you deliberately disobeying him, he was seeing absolute red.

“E-Ed…I-I I heard a lot of commotion! I didn’t know what happened!” You tried to defend yourself, but you were already shrinking away from him.

Ed scoffed. “You don’t know anything! I’ll yell for you if I need you, what part of that is so hard to understand? Even someone as stupid as you could surely follow those simple instructions!”

Your bottom lip started bobbing, your throat started constricting itself. Tears filled your eye ducts. “Y-You still love me, though…right? T-That’s why I came down to check on you…cause I love you…I just wanted you to be okay.”

Silence hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating.

Whatever white steaming rage, Edward felt had quickly dissipated at your choked out words. When they finally registered in his exhausted mind, he sighed in defeat.

“I know…I know…I…I do love you.” He muttered but you could hear him.

Your eyes widened at first, you hadn’t expected him to actually respond, let alone actually reassure you.

“W-wait, really?”

Ed chuckled tiredly, “yes, really, dear. Please next time just, I will call out if anything happens…”

You nodded. “O-okay…Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“If-if I can say…I think you should come to bed now…”

Ed opens his mouth about to rebuke your suggestion, but then he realized he was even too tired to do that. He walked up to you and hesitantly took your hand in his.

“I think…that’s probably best too.”

You gasped at the gesture, but held onto his hand tight in yours as you began walking out of the workshop together.

#riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #batman the animated series riddler x reader #batman the animated series edward nygma x reader #btas riddler x reader #btas edward nygma x reader #young justice riddler x reader #yj riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #arkhamverse edward nygma x reader #ri writes

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monsterfloofs · 1 year

Text

Eldrich Entity x Anonymous Reader (Sfw) part III

( Headspace buddy got a traditional drawing of them done. It has been so long since I have fooled around with a tonal drawing in graphite and black colored pencil. ^-^ ) Before I used to paint digitally or use markers or paint, this was my medium of choice, so it was a nice throw back to my younger art days!)

“Miniscule beings with grandiose emotions.”

You blink blearily, the bed room was dark, only a faint trickle of light was seeping into the room. The voice in your head has woken you up. Although it didn’t sound like it was talking to you. Your body ached and you had to pry yourself from the covers. The washcloth laying in a crumpled heap beside your pillow. A hand pressed to the small of your back as you shuffle out into the kitchen. You must have been laying down all day to feel this sore.

You look around briefly for your cell phone, before reading the clock on the stove. You could barely make out 8pm written in dark digitized marks. You groan softly and rub your eyes with your hand.

“You have not eaten all day.”

You feel your stomach plummet as you could feel attention on you.

“. . . Nope.”

“Will you?”

A flick of irritation glanced across your mind. What did this thing care if you ate or not? It probably was slowly consuming your brain or something like some ungodly abyssal slug. You tried to stuff the emotion down, make it small and unnoticeable.

“Maybe.”

“You resist my suggestions, even if it is for your own betterment?” The voice mutters with a mirrored annoyance and you give a soft huff.

“. . .Welcome to humanity.” You hum, going to the fridge and crinkling up your eyes at the sudden bright light that flicks on as you open the door.

“Buh. . . I second thought. . . I don’t know if I can eat. My stomach feels a little iffy.”

You push the door close with the tips of your fingers, leaning your forehead against the cool metal.

“I detest that simile.”

“What simile?” You mutter.

“I do not, in any way shape or form, wish to consume your being.” The words were punctuated with disgust, and a fair share of indignance. “I am no slimy invertebrate.”

You give a small laugh, a twitter of almost mirth. Realizing how impossible and insane the situation was. It was like a lightbulb lit up in your mind, you had a shouting match with some kind of cosmic god. Now. . . you’ve been going around insulting it. They could hear you, they could hear everything. All the thoughts you never dared to say out loud. If this didn’t show you succumbed to madness, or perhaps were fairly mad to begin with, you weren’t sure what to think anymore.

“You. . . kind of do look like a slug,” You dared to tease, feeling a strange wave of annoyance wash over you that wasn’t your own. You titter with laughter again, putting a hand over your mouth to hush your giggles.

“I do not see why this is funny,” They hiss at you. “Perhaps I shall change my mind after all.”

The giggle fit ebbs away, and you feel tired again.

“I dunno. Sometimes humor helps. If you saw things from my perspective this would be utterly terrifying.”

Silence.

You tilt your head, waiting for some kind of response. When there wasn’t one you sigh, turning around to face the stove. You jump about a foot when you see the starlight being hovering by the kitchen table.

“Ho-my god,” You rasp, “I wish you would say something, that is so freaky.”

The tall shadowy being looks down at their hands, clawed fingers slowly curling towards their bright luminescent palms.

“. . .”

You stare at the figure, studying them quietly. Their skin did look like some kind of strange dark sea, or flowing galaxy. with dots of light that swirled around it. With branchlike horns that turned into wispy plumes of smoke. They didn’t have a multitude of limbs this time, or many angry writhing smoky tendrils. This appearance looked, what you take a very vague guess at, was what they looked like when they were calm. You remember the dreams of this huge mountainous creature, and the lake of swirling stars you had been thrown into. With a voice so loud and deep you thought it was going to shatter your ears. Like being too close to pumping speakers and their thrumming vibrations.

“You’re. . . a lot bigger than this,” You found yourself saying out loud in a quiet voice. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And this fragment thing. . . you mentioned,” You ventured forward. “It's like . . . a miniature version of you, right?”

“That is correct.”

"So. . . how come you know English and. . . Earth stuff?"

The horned head shifts to look up from their hands.

"Shared knowledge. You speak this language, while a piece of me is bonded with you, I share your experiences."

You make a face and they tilt their head.

"That's. . . really creepy. . ."

"You're uneasy."

You nod and purse your lips, "Most. . . most people would be. . ."

You huff and your eyes shift, this really brings a whole new meaning to getting inside someone's head. . . yikes. You go back over to the kettle still making a face.

You decide that you are definitely going to need some tea.

“I. . . would prefer that you stay out of my headspace. . .”

Fingers turn the knob on the stove, listening to the click fill the empty space until flames slither around the kettle. You fiddle with the knob to adjust the heat.

“It’s. . . kind of like invading someone’s personal sanctuary. I would rather not have all my thoughts and feelings be shared. . .”

And what did they absorb already? You felt your heart give an uncomfortable flutter. They were able to learn a language in only a few days. And speak with nuances that a native speaker could, where it almost felt. . . normal. How much did they already know? How much did they already learn from you, cracking your mind open like a clam and examining your thoughts. You glance at them, where the being stood, unmoving and unblinking.

“And. . . what’s your purpose in being here anyway. . . ? You’re not. . .”

You hesitate how to phrase the words.

“No. I did not come here to set in motion ruin this planet.” The little dots on their skin flaring brightly as a few tendrils manifest and whip with sudden irritation. “Your people are akin to ants to me, one does not wage war on miniscule creatures, ones that have proven that they can easily destroy themselves.”

You wince. “That’s. . . that’s part of the personal space thing I meant. . . But. . . ah. . .” You rub your face with your hands, anxiety growing in your chest.

“What I need to ask, the most important question I have is, can I trust you? Obviously, I don’t really have much choice in the matter. You can do just about whatever you want, I just. . . need to know if I have to submit myself into a psych ward and wear a tinfoil hat for the rest of my life.”

You watch the tendrils slowly, wrap back around their flowing form. The horned head bowing.

“I shall not harm you.” They intone. You give a shaky sound, turning your head so you can discreetly wipe your eyes.

“Okay-“ Your voice is unsteady and high, “I’ll uhm, trust you, I guess. . .”

You blink, and look down, as black starry water begins to swirl around your feet.

“Ah-h-hey?”

“You have shared your sanctuary with me, I shall return the gesture and show you mine.”

You watch as the black waters raise higher, engulfing your world back into that starry time void.

Except it wasn’t a black floating void anymore. You stare around a new and strange place. The same swirling star patterns twist and circle along the walls, floor and ceiling. It reminded you of a starry maze, some pathways looked like they go on forever, others took twisting turns and disappeared around corners. A floating staircase of light in the middle of the space that spiraled up into nothingness.Twinkling spheres and shrapnel of glowing rays floated dreamily around it.

“I come here when I need time to think.” The being at your side mused.

“Does. . . does it help?” Your murmur weakly.

They turn to look down at you, “It helps get my mind off my thoughts. Come.” They gesture with a hand before their form starts to glide over the floor. You look uneasy, before you tentatively walk after then. “We— We sh-should probably turn the kettle off.”

They look back at you, and you watch as one trailing tendril unwraps from their body and rises upward through the ceiling. Once it wraps back against their body you nod awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck before you pace yourself beside them.

“Do. . . you have a name?”

“If you must have one,”

“It. . . I would rather call you something other than a voice in my head,”

“Orthcursus, some have called me.”

“And why. . .” You pause, but Orthcursus fills in the rest of your question.

“Simply, to observe, I had not realized my visitation would affect so many around me. I needed a way to move quietly without making many dream of things they weren’t ready for. When I realized planting myself in the surrounding area drew people towards where I lay. A human had already approached me. They fell, and I chose to conduct through them to save their life.”

“Conduct. . .”

“Human beings are made up of water and electricity, I passed a line of my own energy through you to stop the fall. I also hadn’t realized it would also bond us together. Realizing that this would serve my own purposes, I chose this small form, and why my true form is no longer on this planet.”

You have a brief flash of a vision, a tendril shooting your body and curling around you. You press your hand to your heart uneasily.

“So I’m. . . powered on Eldrich energy o-or something?”

A soft scoff, “Not exactly, I made an impression on you, and when I had realized that I had caused a space. . . the only thing I could fill it with at the time was myself. We are bonded, that is. . . the closest word I can use that is available to you.”

“And that’s why you can’t just close the gap and leave.”

They shift slightly and make an uncomfortable sound. “If. . . I was to. . . pull away from this body, the force would pull you along with me. I have tried to pull away, without avail.”

You pause, looking at them. “I. . . Oh. What. . . would happen if. . . I got pulled along?”

“. . .I suppose I could try it, if you wish,”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Ahhh I’m g-good thanks, I’m still wrapping my head around what you j-just told me.”

Your fingers tighten around the fabric over your collar. You pause to take a deep inhale, counting your breath.

Denial to Acceptance.

“It. . . sounds like some kind of corny sci-fi movie.” You give a nervous laugh, “But I. . . I can’t deny what I have been seeing. . . or h-hearing the past couple of days.” You raise your hand briefly towards your surroundings. “Or the logical explanation is. . . I’m in a coma.”

A huff above you, and a dark hand opening palm up towards you. A light blue palm glowing faintly. “Perhaps this will convince you.”

You glance up at them, before taking their hand with your own. The palm is warm, the back of the hand is cold. You startle slightly as the hand splits apart into tendrils that twist up your arm and give it a squeeze.

You laugh, a strange mix of surprise and unease. As their hand reforms, you rub your arm. Orthcusus’ fingers slip back into your open palm. Your thumb gently rubbing circles into their hand.

A faint smile tugs at your lips.

—

The Cell Phone:

You crouch at the bottom of the canyon, staring at a smattering of glass. “You know. . . I should have realized something was wrong when I didn’t know where my phone was. I guess I’ll have to get a new one.”

“Are you ready to leave now that you’ve found it?”

You stand up and stretch, “Mmhm, I guess it’s time to go to the store.”

A breeze whips around you and you hold out your arms, letting yourself dance in the wind.

A starry portal bubbling up underneath your feet.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

You give a wide smile, without a care in the world. “Yup! And you can’t stop me!”

A soft deep voice chuckles as you wink out of existence.

#monster x reader #monster x human #exophilia #sfw #floofyocs #eldrich being x reader #eldrich being x human

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muertawrites · 2 years

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I learned a bit about metal subtypes because I was bored and while Eddie likes trash metal and they don’t generally wear makeup and nail polish. I can see reader putting on eye makeup and nail polish on him for funsies. He complains the entire time but in reality he LOVES the attention and care you put into it, how close you are to him and gentle. How you have to hover over, what if you accidentally tripped and fell on top of him? Oops how’d that happen 🤷🏽‍♀️

i, personally, would hire myself as a stylist for the band. none of them asked me. none of them even wanted me. but i'm blowing the lead guitarist and have an abundance of halloween accessories so they can't get rid of me.

lmao honestly tho he would like the attention, they all would. hyping them up before gigs, making them look like their heroes, they would eat it up.

convincing eddie to wear a button up shirt for a gig would be a hard sell. but you have a vision, and it's one of naked chests and heavy chains and pure, hot, gruesome sex. so you wrestle him into it and only close less than half the buttons, showing off his "cool tatties" god i cringe at him sometimes and slapping on a chain (with your name on it) to go with his signature guitar pick.

if that didn't knock everyone in the front row up, the way you ratted his hair into a perfect mess definitely did.

nail polish he definitely digs. he's horrible at doing it himself because he has zero patience, but he loves letting you do it because "idk man it's just magic how you get it to work" (your trick is to use acrylic paint and quick dry clear coat so he doesn't have to wait around. this is also my trick bc i am also not patient.) also likes the excuse to hold your hand and pet your hair and give you very sloppy, intrusive neck kisses while he has you close.

eyeliner and other makeup however? he's not into it. don't let the hair fool you - he's a manly man. plus he's very energetic, and he gets super sweaty during gigs, and he doesn't want any of those cancerous chemicals getting into his eyes ("eddie you smoke fucking cigarettes don't talk to me about 'cancerous chemicals' ")

the one time you convinced him to let you put eyeliner on him he hated it. pouted the whole time, flinched when the pencil got close to his eye, took one look in the mirror and made you remove it. the only reason he even agreed to let you do it was because you sat on his lap while you did.

no matter how many times you tell him it's tacky, eddie wears t-shirts for his own band while performing. he actually does it just to annoy you now. for one gig he convinced the entire band to wear their t-shirts on stage and could not stop laughing during the set at how pissed you looked. he thinks you're so CUTE when you're peeved at him <3

speaking of t-shirts, you love to make homemade ones for him. you punk them out, spray painting stenciled letters with bleach and making strategic cuts that you mend together with safety pins. his favorite shirts are the one you made that says "security" across the front (a-la hayley williams of paramore) and the one that says "groupie". even when he's dressing the part, he's gotta be a goof.

eddie bitches constantly about your wardrobe direction but honestly he loves when you make a fuss over him. most of his complaints are playful, just to tug at your strings a little bit.

the one thing you don't let him do is perform completely shirtless. the groupies are already vicious and, despite eddie only having eyes for you (he has literally walked past groupies trying to flirt with him in order to get to you, man's whipped), you want to keep some of him for yourself. (he kind of prefers it anyway, since he's actually pretty self conscious of his body. he's still got a lil baby fat around his stomach that he doesn't like anyone but you to see.)

#eddie munson #eddie asks #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson #corroded coffin

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lake-archive · 4 months

Text

Drabblecember Day 15 - Being Sick

Prompt List - Fling Posse Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Genann (Gentaro/Ann)

Words: 600

One cough. Two coughs. Three coughs. Four coughs. Five coughs. And so on and so forth. Honestly it was not the most pleasant sounds to anyone’s ears and Gentaro surely did not take any pleasure in it either. Having it constantly in his ears got tiresome really fast, almost annoying. He couldn’t work in peace. But that was just one of several reasons. The other was that this was rather worrisome. Who would be this insane to run around in the cold with a cough like this to begin with? A university student, that’s who. All to not miss classes.

He looked up from his piece of paper, the one he had been writing on for a while now, or was trying to. Right across the table was Ann, them eyeing their laptop, or trying to. Because they had just been sitting there, swaying to the side while being feverish red. Their hands typed sometimes, very slowly and one word per minute… If that. It was all too visible that they were not feeling all too well. But when asked they would always say: “I’m fine… All good…” but shortly after a sneeze or cough came out of their mouth.

The sight was literally unbearable and had him nearly lose his calm composure. Without them noticing he decided to pack up his belongings, which was the paper and the pencil, before getting up to walk to the other side of the table, where Ann was, still dazed from their sickness it seemed. He didn’t even care at this point, he just couldn’t look at it anymore. “Thou shall not run around like this.” It escaped from his mouth, the strain audible despite him trying to mask it before suddenly picking them up from their chair without them noticing at first.

In fact, it took them seconds to register that they had been picked up from one moment to the next, being carried like a bride. “Eh!? Yumeno–Sensei, what—” They tried to protest yet he eyed them with an unusually sharp gaze, silencing them. It allowed him to speak up at least. “Thou can barely concentrate in this state. I have no choice but to carry thee home.” He explained, their eyes going wide. “Eh!? N… No need, I am—” “Please, do not try to fool me.” He interrupted, sighing. Even he knew how unusually serious he was sounding right now.

There was no room to protest, he wouldn’t let them in fact. They were more than aware by then, staying all silent and even looking around for some time. Perhaps they could draw the conclusion that there was no use and it was time to admit defeat. Or they just were in a state too hazy to think properly. “F… Fine…” They mumbled, just barely loud enough for his ears to catch that. “C… Can I just… Pack my things first? I’d rather not leave any of it here.” “Fair enough. But after that, it is straight home.” They nodded. Gentaro had no idea what overcame him in this moment all of a sudden and yet he had not been questioning it at the time. It was sudden, somewhat overwhelming perhaps, at least for them. And yet the two had not talked about it ever since it had occurred. Maybe it was for the better. And even if Ann had brought it up again, if they had ever asked him for his reason, he would have told them the following: “I see thee as one of my friends.” Friends… Yeah, right. ‘Just a friend’. That would have been a lie.

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 10 months

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Roses, pencil, caress for alpha steve and little one, even though, I kinda wanna know with curtis and honey too, only if you wanna 🥰

I did answer Roses and Caress for Alpha Steve and Little One here

And Roses for Curtis and Honey here.

So I will pick a random one to replace.

Pencil- Do you own a journal?

Steve: "Yes, I have some from when I was with the Howling Commando's team. Looking back on it now, it was how I coped with our missions. I haven't looked at them in many years, but I know that my entries would have shown another side of the Alpha and me that I don't wish to be again."

Little One: "No, I have never tried journaling but I would like to, I think it might help me sort through some thoughts and feelings that confuse and overwhelm me sometimes.

Cupcake- Are you a good cook?

Little One: "I think so! I love to bake and create dishes. Sometimes when I am all alone at the cabin, I will blast the radio and just let myself go in the kitchen. Never know what I am going to make. Some of them have been really good."

Steve: "More than good. You can smell whatever she is cooking all the way at the garage and I can just see everyone wanting to go pay my mate a visit. Sometimes they do and they get lucky cause she always makes extra. Myself, well I can do breakfast pretty good. I make a mean egg scramble that is my usual feed a crowd meal."

Pencil- Do you own a journal?

Honey: "Yes, ever since I was a kid I have had one. I try to write in it every day, but you know how life is. I feel like if I didn't have a journal stashed on my nightstand, I would be a little lost. It's really eye-opening to see all the different stages of my life I have gone through."

Curtis: "I mean I should but nope, maybe it's a habit I will pick up later. I can already see the wheels in Honey's head turning to get me one. I do have some that were my mom's given to me by that side of the family, it was a way for me to know a bit about her when I got older. They are very special to me."

Caress- Do you like to snuggle?

Curtis: "Absolutely! I love holding my partner and touching her. It is my way of saying 'I'm here' without having to say anything. If Honey really didn't like it, I would of course respect her and stop, but for me, it's important in the relationship. I want to be able to hold her and show her love and affection. Some of my favorite times are when we are watching tv together and she is curled up against me."

Honey: "Curtis is very touch affectionate, and I never realized how much I enjoyed it till I got to experience that feeling. With the right person, it isn't suffocating or uncomfortable at all. Many times he pulls me back to bed for five more minutes just before we start our day. Getting to experience that type of commitment has been incredibly monumental for me and I appreciate getting to have it."

Cupcake- Are you a good cook?

Honey: "I can get by with the basics. Nothing gourmet though, I took some classes but never could get the delicate fanciness of some of it. If you want some chocolate chip cookies, a thirty minute meal or something from the crockpot though, I'm your girl."

Curtis: "Don't let her fool you, everything she makes I have enjoyed. I'm good, living as a bachelor I was quick to learn. I don't mind takeout but that shit gets old fast. I prefer cooking on a campfire or grill but I can make you some pretty good stew or chicken and biscuits. Those are my cold weather go to's."

Honey: "Okay, not to brag but I will say I do make the best pancakes."

Curtis: "Fuck yes she does. It's not bragging if it is the truth."

#curtis and honey #alpha steve and little one #soft asks #alpha steve and little one answer #curtis and honey answer

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honeyhellsbells · 2 years

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Hello! Are your matchs ups still open? If so i would like to request one for the arcana. ( And i dont know if i am able to request 2 fandoms, but if that is possible i would also like obey me, if that is not possible than that is totally fine!)

I have no gender preference.

I am really into painting and drawing. I mostly draw animals and frogs and i also like to animate. I also like to read and play games. I really love stardew valley and fe3h. I am also a big fan of horror games you can play with multyple people, like phasmophobia and the forrest.

I also like tarot because i suck at making decisions and use it to choose the best decision for whatever i was planning to do.

I will fight anyone whos rasict or homophobic or any shit like that. But other than that im a pretty calm person. I like to help people in every way i can, i tend to put other people infront of my own mental health and shit. I can also be very sensitive when someone i had no bad feelings about starts being mean to me, especially when they start talking shit about somthing im proud of like a drawing i made.

People have also told me im funny, so imma just put that here. Im a very smart yet stupid person.

I love animals, i even love the onces who scared the shit out of me like spiders.

I am a organised person in a really choatic way. My desk is a mess but i know where everything is.

And yeah i think thats it.

Have a nice day!!

Your Arcana Match Up would be…

Asra Alnazar!

You would probably have met this white haired magician as if it seemed determined by fate. After being single for a while, drawing cards regarding your love life seemed almost like a last resort. But maybe now would be a good time to start being a little more assertive, maybe it was finally your time. And there they were: The Fool, a new beginning was on the horizon; The Lovers, strong emotions, passion and maybe even a soulmate that was about to walk into your life; and finally The World, happy outcomes, a bright future and the completion of this current stage of life.

And just as the Arcana came to speak to you so did he: the magician sat suddenly right in front of you, with bright eyes and an even brighter smile he would tell you that it must have been fate, for he had pulled the same cards just moments before.

Loving Asra can be very easy, he has a gentle soul with wit and snark that sometimes rival his kindness. Like you he sometimes prioritizes the needs of others before his own, especially when it comes to his loved ones, but when his beliefs are challenged or the abuse hurled at someone is not justified in the slightest, he will skip the calm before the storm and unleash hell like no other on the soul unfortunate enough to cross him.

If you are the one who was wrapped up in the argument, he might be a little torn. For one he has as strong of a moral compass as you and everything in him is pushing him to join you, on the other hand, while he knows that you are unlikely to get physical, he cannot say the same of the person you are arguing with.

In the end he will prefer to take you away from the situation, distracting you with the promise of food, a hot drink or a cuddle session, whatever it is that will calm your temper, until you felt comfortable again.

In the quiet moments you like to share, he enjoys just watching you draw or paint, giggling to himself as he watched Faust dangle from your shoulders with the end of her tail wrapped around a pencil or brush, helping you complete your work in her own unique ways. He keeps all the works you gift him, if you feel comfortable enough about them, he will display them around the shop and your home, otherwise he will gather them in folders to look at whenever he feels a little down.

To those close to you, your relationship seemed like the perfect happy ending of a fantastic fairy tale and you know what? For once everything was exactly as it seemed. ------------------------------------------- For Obey me your Match Up would be... Belphegor! Most people think this demon cares for little else but sleep and his twin and while they would be....mostly right, there is still more to this funky cowboy than meets the eye. He very much enjoys napping with his head in your lap as you draw or play a casual session of Stardew Valley, only piping up every once in a while to demand some head pats or any other kind of affection. But he also enjoys sitting next to you, screaming his head off along with you at the scares that the horror game you are playing is throwing at you. When it comes to giving you critique, he most certainly doesn't have the most refined way of doing so. He isn't trying to be mean for the sake of being mean, but he also doesn't want to waste his breath with coddling you. For a while he will merely give you his honest opinion on the pictures and drawings you present to him, often unintentionally hurtful since he doesn't explain himself very well; it often sounds like he hates your work since he only tends to point out what he thinks would need improvement instead of praising what you did well. Only once he actually makes you cry, he realizes his mistake. As a demon, being kind is something no longer second nature to him as it was during his time in the Celestial Realm. But he can learn. He takes his time to sit down with you, asking you about your art, what inspires you and about the techniques you used, even if he doesn't necessarily understand them. Instead of pointing out mistakes as he used to, he tries to understand the effort that went into it, allowing you to tell him about the progress you have made since your last work. He will still give you his honest opinion, that part has not changed, but he will make sure to give you constructive criticism instead, praising what he thinks you did well, and now giving an explanation about what he doesn't like, without sounding condescending anymore. A relationship with this demon is a learning experience, but for you he will do anything to make it work.

I hope you like your Match Up!

#matchup #the arcana #asra alnazar #anon #obey me #obey me belphegor

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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 2 years

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𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Sam Winchester x Reader (HEADCANON)

***early 2000′s playlist to set the scene!***

GIVE IT UP FOR THE STANFORD BOY!

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

- You’re taking a theology course at Stanford and while the course itself is intriguing, there’s something else that always steals away your attention...

- Or rather, someone else.

- In the third row from the front sits a student that you can’t take your eyes off of. He’s tall, he has a kind smile and his hair is ruffled. Sometimes it gets in his eyes and all you can think about during lecture is pushing it away from his forehead.

- You notice that he’s always sitting in the same seat. While everyone else shuffles around to find a new spot each day, this student claims his place in the third row without a problem.

- This means that he’s an early bird. Always a step ahead of everyone. On time and orderly. You’ve made it a habit to match his schedule, so you attend class earlier in the hopes of catching a seat near him. Despite your best efforts though, he always makes it there first. Day after day, you find him reading or jotting down notes before the professor begins.

- One day you snag a seat beside him. You’re nervous and can hardly concentrate. You’re acutely aware of his “ahh’s...” of understanding of the course material, his light chuckles at the professor’s corny jokes, and the broad strokes of his pen during note-taking.

- It’s when his elbow brushes against yours that you let out a small gasp and drop your pencil. It falls down a couple rows and you can’t retrieve it without disrupting the lecture. He stops writing and turns to you. “My fault,” he amends. He reaches into his carrier bag and pulls out a spare pen. “Here, take this,” he whispers. “My treat.”

- Since that day, you’ve made sure not to sit next to him anymore. Why risk making a fool of yourself again? Better to find a good seat a couple rows away and admire him from afar. As for the pen? It’s now your lucky pen and you carry it around wherever you go.

- Weeks of neglecting your professor’s lectures, choosing instead to swoon over the mysterious student have finally caught up to you. An exam is scheduled in seven days and you have no idea where to start your studies.

- You decide to hit the books. An all-nighter at the library never hurt anyone, right? RIGHT?

- So wrong.

- You head to the library and start studying up. Angels and demons; a contrast... The issue of eternal damnation vs eternal paradise... Discourse between European philosophies regarding the morality of the soul and biblical rhetoric... Yeah, what a perfect way to spend the night.

- Your head is aching but still you push on. After you’re through with Demonology: an introduction, you sit up and stretch. Then you walk to the library’s Christianity and Catholicism section to search for the sequel; Demonology: II

- Why did you take this course again??

- As you peruse the bookshelves, you can’t help but silently curse that cute theology guy for distracting you. Who does he think he is showing up to class looking like that?

- You’re reaching for a book when a hand touches yours. You jump back, startled. “Sorry about that,” someone laughs. “Here, let me.” He drops down on a knee and picks up the fallen volume. He looks up and smiles at you.

- He’s wearing multiple layers of clothing and has a carrier bag slung lazily across his shoulder. He picks up the book and hands it to you. “Sam Winchester,” he says, extending a hand. “Don’t I know you?”

- When he figures out you’re from his theology class and are having trouble studying, he insists on helping you.

- SAM WINCHESTER IS A GENIUS. He tells you he’s pre-law but knows so much about... well, everything! He’s especially well-versed in the supernatural and offers his own fun facts about certain pagan deities and demons, speaking about them almost as though he’d met them himself..

- You’re awestruck and tell him how amazing he is for knowing all this. It’s here where he clears his throat, smiles nervously and looks back down at his papers. “You’d be the first to think so.” He says quietly.

- Sam loves coffee and offers you a cup every few hours. In fact, he offers you a lot of things throughout the study session. Pens, pencils, notes, papers... Even if it’s clear you don’t need a thing, he insists. Beneath his kindness though, is a nervousness from being around you...

- The exam comes and goes, but you and Sam continue studying together. Every day he saves you a spot next to him in class and every night you book a seminar room in the library just for the two of you.

- You learn a lot about him in the next few weeks. He’s a model student, he’s always dreamed of becoming a lawyer, and he’s very reserved. It’s clear from the offset that Sam doesn’t like to talk about his family or past, so you don’t pry.

- Three weeks later, the exam grades come back. Sam gets a high 90% which is typical. You’re too scared to look at yours but Sam snatches the paper playfully and checks for you.

- He smirks and turns the page around. “Congratulations.” He says. “85%.” You squeal and wrap your arms around him. When you pull back, Sam is looking at you, a warm expression on his face.

- “Sam?” You ask. He doesn’t say anything but tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Congratulations,” he says again in a near whisper. Then he leans forward and kisses you.

- Since that day, you and Sam have been inseparable. When he walks around campus with you, it’s always with your hand tucked neatly into his while he carries your textbooks under his other arm.

- Your fall semesters together are usually spent on campus, studying under the shade of the trees. Sometimes, you both lie down on the grass, your head on his chest while he tells you scary stories- Sam has quite the imagination. Other times, he gets sensitive when you ask about ghosts and monsters, so he shrugs it off, opting instead to read you something straight out of a textbook.

- Winter semesters are spent at the college café. You both order your favourite drinks and lounge in the plush seating while students come and go out the door. Some of your favourite moments are when Sam types away at his laptop and you lean your head against his shoulder, eyes closed as the scent of coffee beans and lattes waft around you.

- Sam loves listening to music. He’s a total CD burner and has dozens of playlists on his iPod ranging from soft rock to history podcasts and true crime audiobooks. He never listens to music while he’s studying (it distracts him), but you can usually find him in bed, staring up at the dorm ceiling while music blares from his headphones.

- He’ll never admit it, but he’s a tiny bit emo at heart (we all know that he’s an angsty man!). Sometimes you’ll hear Fall out Boy or Evanescence blaring from his headphones, maybe even The Fratellis (He loves Chelsea Dagger and Whistle For The Choir)... It is the early 2000’s after all.

- On occasion you’ll catch him listening to old classic rock hits with a small smile on his face. His eyes tend to get glassy when he does this...

- Sam bought you an MP3 player for your birthday. He burned a mix of his and yours favourite music so that you can have a part of him wherever you go. He dedicated James Blunt’s You’re Beautiful to you for obvious reasons.

- Sam is a little weird. Sometimes you feel he’s a bit too invested in keeping up appearances. He tries to sell the image of being a normal college boy, but you know that he’s hiding something.

- It’s the little things that tip you off. His refusal to talk about his family and childhood, the small sigils sketched into the margins of his notebooks, the silver blade hidden underneath his pillow... But mostly it’s the salt. How much salt does a guy need?

- Once, you found a salt shaker in his carrier bag when you asked to borrow a book in class. Another time, you visited his dorm and found a dozen packs of table salt hidden around the kitchen. Hadn’t your theology professor mentioned that salt was used in rites of purification? You’re beginning to suspect that your boyfriend is either consuming an alarming amount of sodium, or is a cult member.

- Hopefully, it’s the former.

- Sam is a total nerd and spends most of his time studying. He seems almost obsessed with over-achieving. Though most of his friends take college for granted, it’s almost as though Sam is afraid that if he doesn’t give it his all, someone will snatch it away from him.

- Most of your dates together consist of quiet evenings in. Though Sam is sociable, frat parties aren’t his scene, so he’d much rather spend some downtime with you watching a movie in his dorm, or just lying in bed talking.

- Sometimes when you sleep with him, you wake up in the middle of the night to his low groans and mumbling. Usually you wake him but other times you listen to his sleep talking and wonder what part of his past caused the restlessness. In most of his dreams, Sam talks to someone called Dean.

- Sam likes physical contact. He’s always touching you in some way. At night he sleeps with you in his arms, his head nestled in the crook of your neck. During the day he’ll hold your hand while you walk to class together. He just really needs the security of your touch.

- He doesn’t have many pet names for you. It’s always Y/N, or “hun” if he’s feeling particularly affectionate. He would rather show you his love through deeds like fresh cups of coffee, soft caresses, and second-hand notes rather than call you goofy names.

- Sam’s not into intense PDA. Don’t expect anything more than a quick kiss or a handhold if the two of you are out with friends. He has always been a bit timid and prefers to keep his love life out of the spotlight.

- When the two of you are alone, Sam feels more comfortable showing affection. His kisses are warm and tender. He always smiles against your lips and holds you tight. He feels he can be most vulnerable with you, so don’t be surprised if he steals kisses All. The. Time.

- You usually sleep in his dorm. Sometimes the two of you talk until the first rays of sunlight shine through the window. You like to fall asleep in his Stanford hoodie. The crest and school colours are faded but it smells like him and feels like home. When the alarm blares in the morning, Sam is always the first to hit snooze and wake you up with a kiss on the cheek.

- Breakfast is quick and surprisingly healthy. Though you’d never pass up on a plate of boxed pancakes, Sam prides himself on a balanced diet. He cooks egg white omelettes and frittatas for you when you’re not running late to class.

- Dinner is usually a low-key affair, BUT he does like to surprise you on occasion. Sam enjoys taking you out to local bistros every so often and treating you to cozy plates of small-town food. Just remember, Sam is a student so money is tight. Maybe the restaurants aren’t the fanciest around town and the food isn’t exactly gourmet dining, but with Sam Winchester by your side, does it really matter?

- From morning to night, your relationship with Sam Winchester is perfect. He’s intelligent, compassionate, loving, and you adore him for it.

- One night you feel Sam climb out of bed. You hear the sound of a struggle and sit up. You’re just about to investigate when something catches your eye. You look out the window and see a sleek black car parked in the shadows. “Dean?” Sam asks from somewhere outside the bedroom. You recognize the name and whip your head around.

- Things are about to change.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Yoohoo! Give Peppermint Kiss a shot!

Hey everyone!!! This was my first HC AND first Sam piece... sooo yeah.

Omg I LOVE, LOVE. LOVE the vibe of early spn episodes and college boy Sam is just so cute! Okay confession time: I kind of sort of wish that I was a teen in the early 2000′s, what a time, am I right??? Movies and tv shows make it look great but then I think of the perks of being a teen now in 2021 sooo yeah, I guess I’m good where I am lol. A girl can dream, I guess.

Alright, off the crazy train again... thanks for reading!

If you’d like to be tagged in any future Supernatural fics, just tell me in the comments... or visit my taglist! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Supernatural fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Dean, Christmas with TFW series, etc…)

tagging the wonderful: @the-chaotic-cow @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan @andthevillainshallrises

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

Note

An idea:

Hero and Villain going to the same therapist but don’t know about the other. The therapist knows both of their secret identities obviously and has to deal with them complaining about each other separately

Bonus scene:

Villain finds out that therapist knows Hero’s secret identity and tries to trick the therapist into revealing Hero (can be flirting, snooping in the office, etc)

Btw, I think you’re doing fantastic with your writing! I honestly can’t believe you haven’t written in so long— your recent work flowed perfectly. Thank you for sharing your talent for writing on tumblr!!! Also I just realized how long this ask is sorry I didn’t mean to overwhelm you lol

Answering my first ask (((finally)). I'm kinda nervous lol! Thank you so much for the sweet words, @glowing-alpaca (it wont let me tag you), that makes me so happy to hear. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you pictured, but this is the direction my brain wanted to go lol I haven't written anything based specifically on someone's request before so I really hope you like this!!

"Villain?"

The villain blinked and Doctor Meadows' office came back into focus. He shook his head slightly to dispel the thoughts nagging his attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked whether you gave what we spoke about last week a try? We talked about finding productive ways to express your negative emotions." Her voice was soft and void of judgment. "You have a creative mind, have you tried anything that has seemed to help you so far?"

Villain's gaze followed the curve of her pen as the therapist jotted a note down on her notepad.

"How can I possibly be productive when that fool in colored spandex is always barging in, getting in my way? What am I supposed to do, mm? Throw some pottery at him?"

The therapist's hands folded in her lap. "Even if you can't control the situation in the moment, you can still find ways to better prepare yourself, then you'll be equipped to process the aftermath in a healthy way. You can't keep Hero from doing things that act as triggers for you, but you can implement some techniques to control yourself better."

Villain scoffed. "What, you want me to try soaking with a bath bomb, sing kumbaya? Nothing will change until that cockroach is out of my way."

Despite the chill to his voice, doctor Meadow's expression was warm and gentle as she regarded him. She was much more sincere than the cold and demeaning therapists he'd met with at the previous facility he'd tried; or the doctor who cowered in fear when he showed up to his first appointment.

"I am confident that with time and effort, we can find a solution that will help you, villain. But you have to put your best foot forward. You have to invest enough in yourself to sow the desired outcome." Doctor Meadows held his gaze without fear, kind eyes and soft smile settling his restless energy.

She always had a way of snuffing out the tension that corded through him and wound him tight.

They had a connection, and Meadows seemed genuine in her care for him. Sometimes he even wondered if she felt more for him than that.

Villain huffed and glanced around the room, taking in the colorful artwork on the walls, the comforting throw rugs, pillows with silly inspiring catchphrases, and soft furnishings making the space feel inviting. He found it far more disarming than the sterile white, desolate offices he'd visited before.

The therapist continued after allowing him a moment of quiet to consider her words. "I understand that we are a ways away from you being in a place where you feel comfortable giving up your...occupation. I believe that we can work our way there, but for now, we have to take steps to minimize your destructive behavior. The intent behind your actions is the key to why you are compelled to do the things that you do. If we start there, we can make changes that are healthier for you and those around you. What things best calm you and make you feel grounded?"

You, he thought, but didn't say.

"Chaos," he said instead, dazzling her with a sharp smile. He crossed his legs, leaning back on the plush lilac couch.

Doctor Meadows didn't flinch. "So when you feel like your life and personal environment are no longer in your control, it comforts you to inflict that same helplessness on other people? To help you feel less alone."

Villain stared at her. Anyone else would have run and hidden at the look on his face.

Doctor Meadows waited patiently for his response. "Do you feel that that is a correct assesment?" she prompted.

Villain straightened to lean forward in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was low. "What gives you that impression?"

"When Mr. Ma--" her eyes widened as she cut herself off, correcting herself, "--when [Hero's superhero name] isn't around, you--"

"What did you say?"

For once, the therapist's blood ran cold at her mistake. "Pardon?"

Villain braced his hands on the table between them, slowly rising to his feet. He towered over her. "Hero. You know his name. Tell me his name."

Doctor Meadows pursed her lips. "I can't do that, Villain. Doctor-patient confidentiality states--"

"--He's your patient," Villain interrupted again, his smile something too sweet, too manic, to be sincere. Like poison.

The therapist tracked his movements while still looking steady and unshaken.

"Doctor Meadows. Juliet. You want to help me, don't you?" he purred, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If I knew who he was, I could solve all my problems. Not to hurt him, just to keep him out of my way."

His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. She shuddered in a soft breath, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I am not at liberty to share my patient's information. You should be grateful that I don't share yours."

"Sweetheart, let's not pretend I'm just any client." Villain gently took the pencil and notepad out of her hands, setting them aside. Their gazes interlocked.

"Villain--"

"Juliet," he countered, voice honeyed. His free hand landed at the small of her back and he could feel a shiver run through her.

"Villain," she said, tone giving no room to argue. "If you are not willing to respect my rules and the policies I am required to follow, I will be forced to transfer you elsewhere."

He paused at that. The silence stretched. Could he stomach losing her? His therapist, his Juliet, the only person who came close to understanding him?

How dare she threaten to abandon him?

Finally, she shifted slightly under the dangerous look he studied her with.

"Villain. Do you understand?"

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat. He clenched his hands at his sides.

She smiled again, and it looked like home. "Good. Take a deep breath. Let's try a few new exercises together to help you manage your emotions."

Part 2

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @vlerlove-deactivated20210701, @feyriddle, yet-another-heathen

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my writing before. I prefer doing a general list instead of individual ones since that is tedious to keep track of. Let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

#this isnt my best but i spent a lot of time on it and that counts for a lot! :)#why am i always writing at 2 am #i have problems #didnt edit very much but its fIIINE #hopefully i can get to some continuations you all have requested soon :)#civillain x villain #writeblr #flash fiction #short story #my writing #hero x villain #villain x civillian #fiction

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istorkyou · 2 years

Text

The Break (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x reader

Warnings - Language, alcohol use, mentions of divorce.

Synopsis - Your best vacation ever.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed :) )

@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @nothingtolosebutweight @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @threekeysandkiwis @petite-hime

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The rest of the day passes much like the morning: naked, fooling around and fucking.

“Do you want to go out and get some dinner?” He asks as his hand runs through your hair, your head on his chest, still sweating from your last orgasm.

“I thought no clothes were allowed today. Room service?” You tease him.

“I did say that, didn't I? Problem is, I’m starving, and if we don’t get out of this room there is no way I will eat anything but you for the rest of the night.”

You smirk at his words. “Fine, but I’m having another shower,” you move away from him and he grabs your face turning it towards him.

“Oh yeah? Repeat of this morning?” He says into your mouth then kisses you. You pull away from him.

“No, my vagina needs a break. I’m locking the door behind me!” You hop out of bed and do as you say.

In the shower you let the water run over you with a smile on your face. This man is making you feel more desired, more beautiful than your ex has in the last 5 years. It’s a perfect fuck you to him that you

are having a holiday fling before the divorce mediation starts next week. Not that you will ever tell him what you have been up to, sometimes an internal fuck you is as good as an external one.

You finish in the shower wrapping up in another towel and leave the bathroom.

You find him standing at the end of the bed looking down at an outfit. He went into the wardrobe and picked out clothes. You frown at him and look at what he has picked out. It is your work clothes, tight pencil skirt, a black fitted button down shirt, your high heels. Your amour.

“These don't look at all like the clothes you were wearing when we met or the ones you bought from the shop. Wear this out. It’s sexy as fuck,” he tells you.

“I’m not wearing that. That’s a work outfit.” You go into your wardrobe, pulling out the red jumper dress you bought yesterday.

“As nice as that is, you are wearing what I’ve picked out for you.” His tone isn’t controlling, or rude. It’s factual, like he has no doubt you will do what he says. You frown at him.

“Why?” You ask. He shrugs.

“I told you, it’s sexy. I want you to wear it for me please.”

You are the boss in most areas of your life, having someone tell you what to do, what to wear feels so exciting. You smirk at him and lick your lips.

You look over his outfit. “You get to wear jeans and a t-shirt but I have to dress like I’m heading for a day at the office. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Alright, if you promise to wear this I will swing home and change. I will meet you here..” he scribbles an address down“..in an hour. Reservation under my name.”

“Which is?” You huff out a laugh.

He laughs loudly, like he’s only just realised he has been a nameless man to you for over twenty four hours. “Ivar Lothbrok.”

“Ok. Deal. Are you going to stand me up, Ivar Lothbrok?” Your eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Are you going to stand me up, Y/N……” he looks at you, raising his eyebrows, waiting for your surname.

“Y/N is enough, I think.” You smirk at him.

“Ok, be mysterious if you must, woman.” He walks to you, tips your face up to meet his kiss. “I will see you in an hour.”

--------------------------------------------------------

You head out to meet the taxi exactly an hour later, you know it’s a 10 minute ride to the restaurant and you don’t want to get there before him. You’ve decided that if he isn’t there already you will leave. You won’t wait a minute for him.

The taxi drops you off and you enter the restaurant, greeted by the hostess

“Reservation for Ivar Lothbrok.” You smile at her, trying to cover your nerves. She checks her screen, nods and looks up to you.

“This way please.”

The restaurant is very big and busy. You follow her to a table near the back of the room. You feel the familiar prickle of self consciousness, walking through such a packed place, on a weekend, in these clothes.

The hostess stops in front of a table and steps to the side, revealing Ivar sitting waiting for you. A fleeting look of relief crosses his face before a cheeky smile replaces it, he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

Ivars eyes travel over you, smirking at the outfit. “Thank you for wearing it, you look sensational.”

You take in his appearance. A casual, light grey suit with a simple round neck, black T-shirt and black pocket square. He looks incredible. You don’t know what you expected him to wear but it wasn’t this.

“You like this?” He holds his jacket open a bit so you admire him.

“You look good,” you say trying to sound casual as your eyes roam over him.

“You think I look better than good, I can see it on your face.” He raises one eyebrow.

“Arrogance and confidence are divided by a very fine line, Ivar,” you lightly scold him and he chuckles at you.

“I’m just saying it as I see it. You blush easily. It’s fucking adorable but it gives you away.” He tells you, making you blush even deeper.

He orders a bottle of wine for you both and it’s a great choice. You settle into the conversation easily. The waiter comes to take your order. Ivar orders for you, which you are surprised at, but he pretty much orders what you would have so you don’t challenge him.

“So, Y/N. What do you do?” He enquires.

You don’t want to talk about yourself. You don’t want to know much about him and don't want him knowing much about you. You want to keep this casual, about sex. Your life is complicated at the moment and you just want a break from being you this week.

“Corporate shit.” Your reply is noncommittal, you take a big mouthful of wine.

“Is that your official job title?” His face is amused. “No last name, no job information…” his eyes run over you. “Fine, don’t tell me anything then,” he smirks.

“Do you like working in retail?” You ask him, trying to shift the focus off yourself. He gives you a puzzled look, then clarity passes his features.

“Oh! I don’t actually work in the shop. It’s my brother's store and he had an appointment so I was covering for him. I am starting a new job next week,” he tells you.

“Doing what?”

“Corporate shit,” he tells you, smiling in a self satisfied manner. You laugh at him, you suppose you deserved that.

There are a couple of seconds of silence between you.

“So, how long have you been married?” He asks out of the blue, completely catching you off guard.

“W..what?” Is all you manage to say. Your brain starts racing with questions.

“Married. How long?” He repeats, his eyes bore into yours. He doesn’t seem pissed off at you. Just matter of fact, again.

It’s not often you are lost for words but you are now. How does he know? You know your eyes are darting around, trying to avoid his. So much for keeping it casual and light. You can feel your whole face burning up.

“I.. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“How about the truth? Don’t look so freaked out.”

“How do you know I’m married?” You choke out.

“You’ve got a tan line on your ring finger,” he gestures to your hand.

You look down, you hadn’t even noticed. A fleeting sneer passes over your face. Can’t even get rid of the evidence of him even though I threw the ring at his stupid face.

“Fuck my life,” you don’t know you’ve said this out loud.

“It doesn’t bother me by the way. You are away with work and want to have some fun. That's fine with me.” He shrugs.

“I’m…” The waiter brings over your food at the moment and it gives you a second to gather your thoughts.

You clear your throat when the waiter leaves.

“I am married. You are very observant. I am in the midst of getting a divorce. It’s messy, very messy.” For the first time you aren’t looking him into the eye. It’s too personal.

“Are you really getting a divorce?” You can tell by his tone that he thinks you aren’t being honest. “You don't have to lie to me. l wouldn’t think any less of you if you are just a bored wife looking for some fun.” A patronising chuckle leaves him, like he thinks he knows everything about you all of a sudden.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze. What a total prick. You harden at his words. You put on your professional demeanour, you deal with things better like this.

“I don’t lie. Ever. I’m not a fucking cheater. Your opinion of me doesn’t matter, be it positive or negative.” Your tone is harsh and you are pretty sure your fave matches.

His mouth opens and he shakes his head but you don't let him speak.

“Just a bored wife? I wish I had the time to be bored. I was here for work. I am taking a few days off before I head back to my shit show of a personal life. You were a welcome distraction from it,” you put your cutlery down and start to put your coat on and pick up your bag, “but now you’ve pissed me off so I’m leaving.” You tell him as calmly as possible, but you know your face is giving you away.

“No, no! Don’t leave. Please.” The slight panic in his tone makes you stop. He has reached across the table, his hand on yours. “I’m sorry if I insulted you.” He says in a genuine tone, “that truly wasn’t my intention.”

You glare at him trying to decide what to do.

“I’m sorry. Please stay, Y/N. Let's finish our meal. We can change the subject, unless you want to talk about it?”

His confident demeanour has slipped slightly. You can see he’s regretting his flippant words. You put your bag and coat on the back of your chair and settle back into the seat.

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people. I don’t want to talk about it with you, Ivar. We aren’t friends. You aren’t my therapist. I don’t need you for emotional support.”

“Why are you getting a divorce?” Totally disregarding what you have said.

You want to tell him it’s none of his business but actually, he might be a great person to just let it out to. You’ve been keeping it inside for a hot minute, skirting around the subject with your friends and family, too ashamed to let them know the extent of what you saw, as if it somehow reflects badly on you.

“I found him balls deep in his secretary. In his office. Isn’t that the most fucking astounding cliché you’ve ever heard?” You've actually said the words out loud. To say it so candidly is a giant relief, You didn’t know voicing it would be so cathartic.

“You feel a bit better saying that out loud, don’t you? I can see your shoulders look less tense” Ivar observes. “Take it from me, as someone who has had the immense pleasure of fucking you, the man is a total moron.”

You huff out a laugh, turn your usual shade of beetroot and shrug a bit at his words.

“So, you don’t need my emotional support? What do you need me for?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively

“Orgasms.” You reply simply.

“How long are you here for, Y/N?”

“A few days,” you answer him with a shrug.

“May I know your last name yet?” His eyes narrow.

You smirk at him. “No you may not.”

You eat the rest of your meal at ease in each other’s company. You chat generally, about the city, a little about his past, you don’t tell him any other personal information, the divorce talk was enough.

When they bring the check you both reach for it, it’s just an automatic reaction for you to go for it.

“You better take your hand off that check immediately.” His face is like thunder at you, his eyebrows drawn together in irritation.

“I’ve seen the labels on some of your clothes, how much you spent in my brother's shop, I know you have money, but don’t insult me by trying to pick up this check. I invited you out for dinner. I will pay. Do you understand?” His tone is low and assertive. You withdraw your hand slowly and he nods at you, his face softening. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, force of habit.” You tell him and look down at your wine glass.

“Wow, your soon to be ex husband is an asshole, isn’t he? I mean aside from the secretary fucking but you paid for lots of stuff as well, didn’t you?” Ivar shakes his head. You just wave your hand as if to bat away his words. You don’t want to talk about him with Ivar.

He pays the bill and you both head out into the chilly evening together. You stop outside and turn to him.

“Thank you for dinner, Ivar. Thank you for the last 24 hours. It’s been very, very fun.”

“Why are you speaking to me as if I’m not coming back to your room with you? You told me you wanted orgasms from me and I haven't given you anywhere near enough yet. Let’s go.”

“Ivar….” You start, you aren’t even really sure what you want to say to him. You don’t have the time to think about it because his hand is on your throat, firmly but gently, minimal pressure but assertive nonetheless. His thumb is stroking your skin.

“Don’t argue with me. I can feel your pulse under my hand, it’s quick. Let’s see if I can make it quicker.” He moves his face to your neck, his hot breath spreading out over your skin and he places an open mouthed kiss over your pulse point, running his tongue over it back and forth before pulling away.

“Thought so. I felt it speed up on my tongue. You want me to come back with you. I will respect what you tell me though, even if it isn't what your body is saying. So, what are you telling me?” He pulls his face back, waiting for your answer.

“Come back with me,” it's a no brainer for you, you smile at him shyly.

“Good answer.” He kisses you and you head back to your hotel.

He makes you come so many times when you get back you lose count.

Chapter 4

#ivar x reader #vikings au #vikings history #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #modern!ivar #modern ivar au #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #vikings modern au #ivar vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar fanfic #vikings

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Sugar | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: he’s smart, he’s sensitive, he’s sexy, and he pays your tuition. sounds like the perfect guy, right? he would be, if it weren’t for that pesky thing of him being married. for most girls, it’s a dealbreaker, but you have a little secret: it kinda turns you on.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut, semi-public sex (in a car lol), infidelity (it’s in the summary y’all), choking, wedding ring kink, daddy kink, implied age gap, sugar daddy relationship

The last few minutes of class passed excruciatingly slowly, to the point that when you took breaks from tapping your pencil on your paper to glance up at the clock only to see it hadn’t changed at all, you wondered if time had somehow managed to stand still while your professor continued to ramble about, ironically, the way time dilates inside black holes.

“Before I let you go, I want to review the grades on last week’s quiz…”

You suppressed a groan as you waited for her to get on with it; you already aced it, what other discussion needed to be had?

Finally, finally, she let you all leave and you were already halfway out the door, beaming as you clutched your books to your chest and jogged out of the building to the parking lot. His car was waiting for you there, parked at the furthest and darkest end of the lot for some reason, and you knew what waited for you inside even if the windows were tinted too dark to see through. You were too happy to even notice the cold night air blowing right through your cardigan, jogging to the car and swinging open the passenger door.

“Hi!” you smiled as you hopped in.

“Hey baby,” Bruce purred, leaning in for a kiss. You expected a quick peck but instantly it was obvious that he was up to something, with the way he pulled you closer and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Bruce,” you giggled as you pulled away slightly, although it was kind of a moan, too. “What’s the occasion?”

“I missed you,” he shrugged. “Is it so strange that I missed my girl?”

Your thighs clenched together at the pet name, but your hands pushed him back gently when he leaned towards you again. “At least let me set my books down first!” you protested.

He chuckled but let you go, and you maneuvered to set your books down in his backseat, feeling his gaze on your ass as you bent over and not exactly minding it. There was a dark shimmer in his eyes when you came back, scanning over you slowly.

“Where are we going?” you asked, already expecting a certain answer since he had made no move yet to put the key in the ignition.

“We’re not going anywhere, angel,” he explained. “I didn’t get to see you all week and it’s been killing me.”

Of course, it was technically possible that he meant he just wanted to sit in the car and catch up with you, but the way his voice got deep and husky made it clear that wasn’t his intention. You bit down on your lip as you glanced down to the misshapen crotch of his trousers, letting your hand slip forward to rub his thigh and just barely ghost against his cock. “I missed you too, daddy,” you whispered.

You felt his length throb against the back of your hand, at the same time you heard him groan softly. “How much did you miss me?” he asked darkly.

“So much,” you nodded quickly.

“Show me how much,” he instructed, sitting up a bit to unbuckle his belt for you. You did the rest, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out of his boxers. It felt so hot and hard in your palm, so thick you struggled to keep a hold on it sometimes, but you licked your lips as you leaned down and took the head into your mouth. He instantly pushed your head down further with a hand on the back of your neck, moaning as you swallowed more of him. “Fuck, baby…”

You smiled a little, though you suppressed it since it would interfere with the task at hand, continuing to stroke the part of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet. With practice you’d learned to take all of him, but it required warming up a bit first. That said, this didn’t feel like a ‘take it slow and fool around’ sort of night. He was already bucking up into your mouth and you could feel that he was on edge from the way his fingers tightened in your hair.

“Fuck, so good for me,” he praised with a sigh. “You like sucking me off in the parking lot like this, honey? Right after school? You think someone could walk by and see you with your mouth full of my cock?”

The windows were tinted, sure, but it was possible… and the idea made heat spread between your thighs.

“Just like that, baby, choke on it,” he groaned, all but fucking your mouth at this point— and you loved it. You knew you were getting embarrassingly wet and you didn’t even care that you were in his car in your school’s parking lot anymore: you wanted him to fuck you, so much so that you were starting to gyrate your hips to get some friction against the seat. He must have noticed when he reached over your back to spank you, making you jump. “Look at you, needy little girl— rubbing yourself on my car like a desperate slut. You’d better not make a mess, that’s Italian leather.”

He didn’t usually talk so degradingly to you, but it was definitely working for you, which became sort of a vicious cycle because as he mocked you for your desperation, your arousal grew which fed the very desperation he was mocking in the first place. You moaned around the cock in your mouth, the vibrations clearly getting to him as you tasted more of his salty pre-cum hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna come in your mouth— get in the back,” he demanded quickly as his voice became more strained. Not needing to be told twice, you popped off of him and climbed into the back; he wasn’t as agile as you, but he followed semi-awkwardly and slotted himself between your legs. With his cock already out and you wearing a skirt, he could rub himself on you through your panties— which was unexpectedly intense, due to how sensitive you’d become.

Your head fell back against the seat as you moaned lowly. “God, Bruce, please…”

“You must not want it that bad if you’re calling me Bruce,” he chuckled, leaning in to suck a mark on your neck. There was something so hot to you about how unfair it was that he could mark and claim you any way he wanted, but you got in trouble if you got lipstick on his collar or left something of yours in his car. The reminders of this affair and its forbidden nature just turned you on more.

“Daddy,” you corrected with a whimper, “I need you to put it in me— fuck me, please.”

“You’re sure you’ve earned it?” he asked, his smile brushing against your ear. You nodded feverishly, clutching at his shoulders tightly. He reached down and delicately pulled your panties to the side, groaning a bit when he saw how wet you were and beginning to rub the swollen head of his cock through your folds.

“Please,” you sobbed gently, repeating the words over and over until he finally pushed into you in one long, slow stroke. You choked on your moan— when you went so long without seeing him, he was always just a bit too big, stretched you just a bit too wide, went just a bit too deep inside you. You hissed through your teeth as you processed the pain, but it burned in exactly the way you needed.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “so fucking tight, goddamn…”

His hands gripped your thighs to hold your legs open, and you realized you could feel the hard metal of his wedding band digging into your skin. Why did that, of all things, make your walls flutter and clench around him?

“Baby,” he grinned, “you really did miss me… your sweet little pussy is fuckin’ gripping me, doesn’t wanna let me go, huh?”

Your face burned but you loved the way his voice sounded when he got like this.

“You’re not gonna let me pull out, are you?” he realized with a little smirk. “You need me to fill you up, is that it?”

You nodded, gasping a bit as he started to move faster. “Yes, Daddy.”

"You're already getting too loud, pretty girl," he hoarsely mocked you. "Somebody could hear you, remember?"

You whimpered and bit down on your lip. The head of his cock was dragging right over your g-spot, making your toes curl as pleasure twisted in your gut. "Can't help it," you explained between moans, "you feel so good… I love your cock so much, Daddy, please just don't stop."

"I might have to, if you can't keep quiet," he groaned.

"Make me quiet," you begged gently— and before you could even worry if he wouldn't know what you meant, he wrapped a hand around your throat.

The loss of air just made everything more intense; you felt fuzzy at the edges, like your sensation was blurred, and it made shivering tingles erupt wherever he touched you. You could feel his ring against your neck; fuck, it was everything.

He laughed a little as he started to fuck you faster and harder, hips slamming into yours until the sound echoed around the car.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you? I can feel it,” he informed you through his teeth. “I can feel it around my fucking cock.”

You nodded against the hand around your neck, gasping when he gave you a reprieve from the pressure. “Yes, Daddy,” you cried as you clutched at his shoulders tightly, “I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

“I’m never gonna get over how sensitive you are,” he purred, leaning in until you felt so small underneath the weight of his body. “You love your Daddy’s cock so much, hm?”

“I’m gonna come,” you whimpered as you hugged onto him tighter, shocks of pleasure shooting up your back as he tightened his hand around your neck again. You weren’t sure if it was the orgasm or the inability to breathe that made your vision go spotty and dark, but either way it was overwhelmingly intense as it washed over you. Shivers erupted over your skin and made your thighs twitch where they were pressed against his hips, his belt digging into the sensitive skin there (although you didn’t really notice, too busy falling back into a silent scream).

The noise you made when he let go of your throat was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh, despite those being opposite actions. The most intense waves of it had subsided, and yet you felt like you were being pushed to your limits as he plunged into your sensitive channel with renewed vigor. Thankfully for your poor vagina, it seemed like he was close to the edge, spurred on by the pulsing of your walls.

“Please come, Daddy,” you begged weakly, “want your come in me, please—”

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I will, baby, you feel so good, fuck!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of his cock swelling and flexing inside you, his movements starting to falter as his head fell back— and, with a deep, throaty moan, he pumped his come into you. You hummed contentedly as he collapsed against you, catching his breath.

There was something sort of romantic about a quickie in the back of his car, despite all odds. Maybe romantic wasn’t the word, but definitely sweet for the way you twirled a wavy strand of his hair around your finger as he laughed breathlessly.

“I… didn’t mean to come so fast,” he admitted as he pulled his softening cock from you and slipped it back into his pants, sitting next to you and resting his head back on the seat with a sigh.

“I couldn’t have handled much more,” you giggled, “so it’s all for the best.”

“You can handle a lot more than you think,” he remembered, conjuring in your mind images of those times he’d brought you to the edge over and over until you were sure you would pass out and/or lose your mind. The memory made your cheeks warm as you cuddled into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

It was a comfortable silence as you relaxed against him, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths as they started to stabilize and slow down a bit.

“Oh, how’d you do on your quiz?” he asked you, and the sudden change of topic made you laugh quickly before you answered.

“I got a perfect score,” you beamed.

"Hey, that's great," he smiled back, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. "I think you deserve a treat for that."

"Does getting my brains fucked out in the backseat of your car right after class not count as a treat?" you laughed.

"I guess it does, but I mean something a little more… expensive."

"Bruce, baby, you're gonna spoil me," you giggled, nuzzling your head into his neck as he wrapped an arm around you.

"That's the idea," he explained. "Once I get enough energy back to move again, I'll drive you to a jeweler and get you something sparkly."

"When do you need to be back for her not to get suspicious?" you asked, chewing your lip nervously as you remembered that you had to be careful of those sorts of things.

"Ugh, I don't fucking care," he groaned.

You looked up at him, resting your hand on his chest in a show of sympathy. "Did something happen? Is she picking fights with you again?"

"Let's not talk about her," he suggested, pulling you closer. "Let's talk about you."

"What about me?" you asked with a scoff.

"Let's talk about you, coming with me to Tokyo in February."

"...what?"

"I have to do this medical conference thing there, and I thought it'd be the perfect trip to bring you along. I only have to be there for a few days but we could stay longer if you want to do more touristy stuff, spend more time together…"

"Bruce, I have school," you reminded him.

"And you're at the top of all your classes," he dismissed. "You can afford to miss a few days. I want you all to myself, even if it's just for a little while."

"I could say the same thing."

"And you should," he countered, "because this is your chance. Think about it: just you and me, in a huge suite in a fancy hotel in Tokyo, laying in bed all day, making love for hours—"

"'Making love'? Is that what you think we do?"

He chuckled a little. "It could be. Or I could tie you to the bed and make you come until you scream so loud the other rooms complain to the front desk."

You shuddered, knowing full well that he was capable of that. A few months ago, you'd walked into class with a lost voice and a new Coach handbag. You thought about that night every time you saw the purse and you wondered if that was the real reason he bought you new stuff on nights like that.

"Will you come with me?" he asked again.

"Sure," you decided with a little smile. "But you're too good to me, I swear."

"Not true at all, you deserve so much more than this," he refuted as he kissed your neck. "Next time I take you somewhere, it won't be because I had a work thing there— and it'll be wherever you want."

You were too distracted by his lips on your skin to really notice what he was saying. At the moment, despite knowing how incredible a trip with him would be, you couldn’t imagine anything better than this; the back of his car, in your school’s parking lot, with his arms around you and his come leaking out of you onto the leather. Still, you weren’t going to stop him from buying you something sparkly if he wanted to.

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #idk if anyone will read his but i dont CARE look at his fucking ARMS in that gif asgkjashgsjg #yes i made the gif and it made me so thirsty

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