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#I need to send out a survey or something
sunnibits · 2 years
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the whole ‘lesbians inexplicably attracted to con o’neill’ thing is so funny to me as a bisexual, because here I am thinking like ‘wow I’m so pathetic and my taste in men is so cringe’ but meanwhile right next to me you’ve got all these people having a full blown sexuality crisis over the same fucking guy
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boneblushed · 7 months
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Is it chill that you’re in my head?
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synopsis your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.
wc 2.6K
“He’s looking over here,” James sings under his breath, his brown eyes full of mirth. He’s balancing on the spindly hind-legs of his library chair, the Potions essay he’s supposed to be doing laid out in disarray.
You send him a reproachful look. “You’re being malicious.” When you turn back around to face Davey Gudgeon’s table, there’s a split second of eye contact before he ducks his head down abashedly, his cheeks a brilliant rouge.
He has a crush on you, apparently. Sirius and Remus had overhead him talking about it on his way down to breakfast this morning—about how prefects rarely escaped unscathed after sharing something as intimate as a Saturday night duty.
James Potter, your best friend and a royal pain in your ass, finds this revelation abso-fucking-lutely hilarious for some reason. Asshole.
“Au contraire,” he murmurs, the grin on his face audible, “I’m being a world class wingman.”
The look on his face is downright dangerous. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, unperturbed by the frown on your own, a warning. Easing forward until each hind-leg finds the ground with a resounding thud, he cups his hands around his mouth, whisper-shouting, “Oi! Gudgeon!”
Davey Gudgeon reddens further, a feat you didn’t think was possible until now. He glances over at James dismally, a furtive expression on his face. “What?” He mouthes, sending you this weak half-smile. It’s sort of sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself smiling back at him on instinct.
“Come over here, you bludger,” James chastises, like that’s the obvious next step. To be fair, it probably is to him — he’s never shied away from flirting with the girls he fancies, a self-proclaimed dating aficionado with way too much chat for his own good.
Davey hesitates, his nervous gaze flitting to you momentarily. He looks as though he wants to do just that, but isn’t sure whether his crush on you is reciprocated. Sweet.
He has gentle eyes, too, pretty juniper with bright specks of burnt ochre. A nice head of brown hair. If it was cold outside, you bet he’d offer you his Quidditch jersey without hesitation.
You think you need sweet, all things considered. You’ve known James Potter all of seven years now, had a wretched crush on him all of five, and never once has he indicated that his aforementioned expertise could ever extend to you.
It’s high-time that you gave your pathetic heart a rest.
“You’re making him miserable,” you mutter, ever-reproachful.
Davey hasn’t moved yet, though you’re sure he wants to, his hands braced on the table in front of him apprehensively. He keeps looking between you and James, surveying his options; in order ease his anguish, you decide you’d better make the decision for him.
You push your chair back and stand up, it’s spindly legs scraping against the vinyl floor forebodingly. James looks up in surprise. “Where r’you going?”
“To Gudgeon’s table.”
“Why?” James urges, perplexed. He half-stands too, his features a smidge less mirthful than before.
“So you’ll stop,” you reply, frowning down at him.
He raises his arms in surrender. “I’m stopping.” A pause. In the beat that passes, his assessing gaze falls over you in paces. “You’re not… you’re not keen on him too, are you?”
You think on this, cocking your head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe? He’s kinda sweet.”
“But he doesn’t even have the balls to come over here and ask you out properly,” James whisper-shouts, mildly exasperated.
You’ve never once called him sweet.
He’s had this tragic crush on you for all of seven years, and never once has he been on the receiving end of such a fond adjective. He’d only made a fuss over this Davey situation because he was sure it was just a jibe — no way someone like you would be interested in a guy like Gudgeon, no way you would even entertain the possibility of more than friends.
Right?
James wants that more than friends thing with you, bad. This morning, when Sirius’d brought up Bludgeon’s crush on you—sniggering violently—he’d snuck a glance at your features to ensure that it wasn’t reciprocated. He’s sure he’d caught a bit of second-hand embarrassment, though maybe it was actually just tender hearted diffidence. Maybe Davey fucking Gudgeon had something that he somehow didn’t.
Right now, James’d give up his head boy badge and Quidditch captaincy to acquire that something. His chest hurts terribly. He runs his sloven fingers through his unkempt hair, sending you another look of bewilderment.
“Because you’re here,” you reprove. “Course he’s not going to come over when the James Potter is taking the mickey out of him.”
You say his name like it’s an insult. James’ heart plummets. “I’m not — he’s welcome to come over,” he argues quietly, chagrined. “Besides, he’s going to have to get used to me if he wants to be your boyfriend.”
“Why?” You frown. “I always bugger off when you’re with another girl.”
“That’s different,” James insists, frowning in tandem.
“How’s that different?”
They aren’t you, James thinks vaguely. His poor heart blunders for the umpteenth time this afternoon. “None of them are girlfriends.”
“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter. James swears he hears a hint of spite in your tone. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. M’going over.”
James slumps back into his seat reluctantly. He knows that you’re right, begrudging as that revelation may be — he is always flirting with one girl or another, though that’s more so to pass time than anything particularly serious. Never you. You’d see right through him, anyway. Besides, the last time he tried, it’d been so disastrous you’d assumed he was joking.
It’d been at that Halloween party they’d had in the Gryffindor Common Room last year, firewhiskey flowing and sweet treats piled atop every surface.
You were wearing this gorgeous, albeit bemusing, costume of a Muggle someone — Wonder Woman, or something, James didn’t quite understand it. Showing a lot of skin. Your pretty eyes were accented by rouge glitter, lips all glossy, and your exposed limbs and bare waist had eased his heart right into his throat.
And James Potter didn’t often find himself lost for words, but it appeared as though this party was one of those exceptions.
“Woah,” he’d murmured, wolf-whistling lowly. He was in this ridiculous, Babbity Rabbity costume (courtesy of Sirius, who was a cackling pot), feeling entirely out of place when you looked so beautiful. “Christ, Y/N, who’re you meant to be? The hottest muggleborn at Hogwarts or something?”
You’d rolled your eyes then, because no way he was serious. “Don’t tease, James. Did you guys manage to snag any cauldron cakes?”
He’d been too busy to insist his sincerity, fond gaze travelling down your bare limbs, slow. Lingering on the wafer of exposed waist between your corset and skirt. He’s still agonised by the want to touch your soft skin; that wretched Hogwarts shirt tuck has prevented this from happening.
“By the fire,” he’d answered after a beat, dazed.
And when you’d fallen out of earshot, James’ eyes still trained on your figure, Sirius and Remus’d come up behind him, the latter wearing Muggle-manufactured fangs. (Supposedly, he was meant to be a vampire.)
“You’ve got a tragic affliction, James,” Sirius’d tutted under his breath, faux-apologetic. “How’re you somehow able to flirt with every girl in this room except the one that matters?”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered back at the time, though as he thinks back on it now, he realises that Sirius was right.
For some reason, with you, he always manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He watches Davey scramble to straighten as you near his library table, the heat on his neck rising until his entire face is in a flush. And you’re smiling as you sit down beside him, this sweet, unabashed smile that looks too much like feelings reciprocated. Something in James’ ribcage cracks, an ugly emotion springing forth from within it. But he’s immobile, hands on the table and furrow in his brow, agonised by the fact that you’re looking at Davy all fond, not him.
Never him. You ask a question—James is trying his best to lip-read, but it’s difficult not to get carried away staring at your mouth. Davey nods, and then reddens some more. Then you stand up, feelings-reciprocated smile on your face as you walk back over to the table you’re sharing with James.
“He looks pleased,” James mutters grumpily.
You frown. “You don’t.”
“You’re doing charity work,” he answers, ignoring the insinuation. “You know that, right?”
“James,” you sigh, “you’re being unkind.”
“Because he’s punching.” But James knows this is unfair. He’s pretty sure every bloke in Hogwarts would be, if it was you and them.
“James,” Sirius calls, bemused. “You coming mate?”
Its autumn in Hogsmeade, and they’ve reached a cross roads.
The path to the left of them leads to the Hog’s Head Inn, one of their favourite haunts in the village due to its relative unpopularity. To the right, where James is glancing furtively, the cobblestone pavement takes them toward the Three Broomsticks. Where you are. With Davey.
Remus shares a knowing look with Sirius. “Think he’s in the mood for one of Rosmerta’s butter-beers, actually.”
James groans, scrubbing his calloused palm down his face slovenly. He knows exactly what he’s insinuating; Remus always has been the most astute of the lot. “Don’t bloody start.”
Sirius grins then, reaching for James and throwing an arm around his neck. “Reckon you’re going to need something stronger than butter-beer if you’re planning on watching Gudgeon snog your girl.”
His heart plummets. There’s that ugly emotion again, rearing its contemptuous head at him. “Wormtail’s there too,” he tries, shoving Sirius off. “We should go say hi.”
“Oh yes,” Sirius allows, his brown eyes full of mischief. “The one Marauder with a girlfriend. You after some tips, mate?”
“Cut him some slack, Sirius,” Remus chastises, though there isn’t much fire to his tone as he says it. “Reckon he’s miserable enough about the fact that the one time he fancies a girl she isn’t interested.”
James frowns, sending the pair of them a look of determination. “Look, shove off, both of you.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens further, keenly resolute. “I just want to check on her, alright? Make sure that bludger isn’t pulling anything funny.”
“Right.” Sirius nods soberly. “Or snogging her to death.”
“Fuck,” James groans again, his insides squirming. “You’ve gotta stop putting that image in my head.”
He turns toward the path to his right, the cobblestones plush with Autumn leaves, when he spots your figure in the distance and freezes. Coming closer. You look beautiful in this matter-of-fact, effortless way that makes James’ heart stutter; your pretty eyes are alight with mirth as you catch his gaze, this fond smile on your lips that makes him want to kiss you. Bad. He swallows thickly, his chest a pathetic mess.
Sirius and Remus must spot you too, because the pair of them beginning walking backward toward the Hog’s head, their eyebrows raised in tandem.
“She isn’t with the bludger, Prongs,” calls Sirius, a knowing lilt to his tone. “Now’s your chance.”
“My chance?” James asks, distracted.
“To snog her, you idiot.”
But James doesn’t hear him. Partly because the wind’s picked up, mostly because it’s difficult for him to concentrate on anything but your growing closeness.
Once you’re within earshot—more of you to agonise over, exposed waifs of skin like a siren song—he stumbles forward clumsily.
“Y/N,” James breathes out, pleasantly surprised. “Where’s Davey?”
You grimace, looking over your shoulder furtively. “I’ve just escaped him.”
James’ stomach deflates, relief washing over him in waves. He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Escaped?”
“Don’t,” you warn, frowning sternly. “He… he’s alright, really. Just doesn’t really know how to hold a conversation.” You grimace again. “Or take a hint. Like, at all.”
“Yeah? Why’d you say that?”
“Well,” you begin, and then you shiver, moving closer to James without meaning to. “Christ, Potter, you’re a really good wind shield, y’know that?”
“At your service,” he murmurs, inching forward too. “You were saying?”
You gaze up at him, the rough planes of his face ever present, and you’re struck by the revelation that he doesn’t need an old Quidditch jersey to keep you warm. He’s a furnace of body heat and cedar-wood cologne.
“Well,” you continue, voice low, “after two butter beers and absolutely zero chat, I’d sort of assumed that he’d have realised that this just isn’t going to work.”
“But…?”
“But,” you grimace, “he asked me out again.”
The way your features twist as you say it, as though that’s the last thing you want to do, wrings any residual jealousy he may be feeling right out of his stomach. He’s struck by this suddenly, overwhelming urge to caress your jaw and pull you closer.
“And let me guess,” James murmurs, grinning fondly. “You said yes.”
“I said I’ll see.”
“I worry all this charity work’s going to be the death of you, Y/N.”
You crinkle your nose up at him, punching his chest playfully. “Don’t you start James Potter.”
James raises his arms in surrender, still grinning. His gaze lifts above your head to take in the footpath behind you, and he finds himself looking right at the burly figure of Davey Gudgeon trudging toward the pair of you.
“Bloody hell,” he mutters, raising his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about him not being able to take a hint, huh?”
You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder bemusedly. When your head whips back around to face him, your eyes are wide and a little tortured, dappled by the warm, orange hues of Autumn. A damsel, James’ thinks, dazed, as if that’s a normal thought for a eighteen-year-old bloke to have. He’s already spiralling over kissing you and it’s been all of five minutes.
“Is he looking over here?” You ask, your voice low.
James’ eyes dart back to Davey. “Uh, yeah?”
“Good.”
You wrap your arms around his neck hurriedly, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. James takes a second to recalibrate, his poor heart a mess, but when he does, he’s quick to circle your waist and pull you closer, his strong arms firm and torso warm on your figure. It’s a deft kiss, chaste as it is agonising, though kiss enough for him to memorise the feeling. The buttery taste of your lips, the perfect way they appear to mould against his.
It’s a tandem emotion — you’ve revelling in this kiss far more than you should, the arduous pressure of James’ lips on your own. He’s going to leave a mark. He tastes like sugar quills and feels like the death of you, his sloven hands pressing into the bare skin of your waist.
When you do finally pull away, your cheeks are warm and you’re a little breathless. “S’he still there?”
A beat passes. James doesn’t look up.
You mistake his pause for unease, and grimace abashedly, looking away from him. In hindsight, you aren’t sure what possessed you to kiss him like that — you want to pretend it was to stave Davey away, but your traitorous heart says otherwise.
God, you think, it was a really good kiss. If only James liked it as much as you did.
If only you knew.
“Sorry,” you add in a hurry, still grimacing. “I — I wasn’t thinking, I just didn’t want Davey to come over here and I —”
“Y/N,” James interrupts, his voice rough, gravelly around the edges. “Stop talking.”
You let out a breath. “Why?”
“I want to pretend you kissed me because you wanted to, just for one more second.”
“What?” You ask, your eyes wide. “Why?”
James thinks, isn’t it obvious? He’s still marvelling over how perfect your mouth is.
“Because,” he admits quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
You don’t know what to say to this. Your still chest to chest with less than an inch between your figures, and you can feel your poor heart struggling to free itself from its cage. “You have?” You say, suddenly bashful.
James nods. His pupils are a little blown, his unkempt hair a mess, and he keeps his gaze trained on your lips as though he’s being paid for it. “And listen,” he murmurs, reaching forward to thumb over them softly. “Don’t worry about Davey Gudgeon.”
“Why not, James Potter?”
“Because I’d sooner die than let that bludger bore my girl to death again.”
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vixstarria · 4 months
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Missionary with the lights off
We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.
Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader
18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV
Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much
Approx. 1,800 words
You woke up in Astarion's tent.  
Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.  
You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.  
The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep. 
He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.  
You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred. 
“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you. 
Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.  
“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.” 
“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally. 
“The night at the clearing..?” you offered. 
“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked. 
“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned. 
Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking. 
You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.  
“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.  
“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.” 
“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way." 
“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.  
“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?” 
“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?” 
“Right there,” you breathed.  
“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.  
“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.  
Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.  
Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was. 
You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.  
Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.  
However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.  
And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.  
The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.  
One heartbeat... Two... Three... 
Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.  
Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.  
Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt. 
You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee. 
All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock. 
You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.  
You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.  
Finally, you felt complete.  
There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him. 
You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.  
“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed. 
There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside. 
“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.  
"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted. 
Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute. 
Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came. 
Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. 
“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.  
“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.  
Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.  
Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts. 
“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.” 
“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.  
“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you. 
“That can be arranged,” you purred. 
There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.  
“We could always die today,” you shrugged. 
“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.” 
Bonus scene: 
“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!” 
“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.” 
“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.” 
“We need you, Astarion!” 
“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!” 
“Save us, Astarion!” 
“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?” 
“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”  
Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.  
“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.” 
“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...” 
~~~~~ 
Mark me as yours - fic re the following day
I have a whole series with these two, check it out
AO3
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bakugoushotwife · 7 months
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kinktober day eleven: monsterfucking kink
>>> guys this one may be my fav day ngl...as you can tell by my blog's entire theme that this is my biggest and most violent fantasy i need dragon king bakugou in the worst way please oh my god please
>>> EDIT 10/11: MHA LEAKS OMFG THIS DROPPED THE DAY MHA LEAKS BAKUGOU IS BACK MY GLORIOUS KING!!!!
>>> starring: dragon king!bakugou x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: monsterfucking, bakugou is a hybrid, no prep, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, dark content, kinda forced marriage? mating bonds, uh, i think that's it. >>>wc: 2.9k >>> event masterlist
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it was the new king’s coronation day, and as tradition demands, he shall have his pick of the finest women in his lands. you were brought forth amongst a host of other ladies deemed pretty enough for the young king to choose from. you were the only one of them that seemed irritated by the prospect, all the other girls were tittering and combing their hair while discussing their chances of being picked to be the dragon king’s new bride. he examined you all in a line, sneering at all the smiling and fluttering lashes—sending them crying from the room. he pauses on you, his gaze was stern and fiery but you didn’t hesitate to square your shoulders and meet it. he’s surprised; you don’t smile or extend your hand for him to kiss. you challenge him, you tell him with that strong set jaw and steel stare that you won’t be easy. he feels a pull on his heart, something he cannot yet explain. he likes you. 
you tilt your chin up, almost like you’re the one sizing him up. you’re so regal and amusing to him that his mind is made up instantly, but he gives you a few more minutes of looking him over, hoping to see some semblance of interest on your face. king bakugou was a hulking form of a man, towering above everyone in the room. they always were bigger than the normal humans, but he was larger than any of the dragon shifters you had ever come across. the room almost didn’t seem big enough to contain him, and it was his castle. his burlap trousers balloon around his lower half, but it seems there were not shirts big enough to fit the new king of dragons, only a long fur cloak that fastened with a golden dragon broach stretching across the broad expanse of his chest. he was tanned and scarred from years of flight and battle, and muscled even more so. he had hints of sparkling scarlet scales trailing along his collarbones with pointy teeth that alluded to his other form. his biceps bulged as he folded his arms across his chest, admiring you as you admire him with a satisfied smirk on his face. you didn’t throw yourself at him like the rest, and he doubted you would yet still, but you weren’t shy to let your eyes linger on him. he likes you. 
he smirks your way, grunting his approval. you were the perfect match. you certainly were the most beautiful creature of his kingdom, and your womanly figure assured him that he would sire several successful heirs with you. you captivated him and you had not yet spoken a word, though the young king could feel that fierce tugging on his heart again, something he now recognizes to be his mating bond the longer he looks at you and the stronger the feeling grows. 
“mine.” he says simply, nodding at you in content. his right hand man and fellow dragon shifter steps closer, handing his friend and king a fur pelt similar to the one he wears before retreating back into the onlooking crowd. the king unclasps the matching golden dragon, swinging the covering over your shoulders and snapping the jewelry back into place with a surprising nimbleness. this was the first of many gifts the king would dole out for his mate and queen, but this is the first one to mark you as his. you’re shocked to be chosen, convinced he would take your surveying for disrespect and brutalize you here to send a message— but alas, the most explosive dragon ruler in all the lands chose you as his bride. “you are my mate. we will marry in two moons. dismissed.” 
he looks over your head when he says this, ending the celebrations in favor of alone time with his chosen. his gaze has a hint of boredom to it as it glides around the room, red and fiery with unspoken strength and power behind them. you straighten yourself under the weight of your new cloak, bowing your head out of respect, albeit so quick it made the king exhale heavily through his nose as if to chuckle. 
“you are amusing, mate.” he says, extending a warm battle-worn hand to push your hair away from your neck. he lets it rest against your shoulder, smirking at how small you were compared to him. it was overwhelmingly apparent that he could do anything he wanted to with you, and you weren’t necessarily opposed to the concept. you started this day with immense rage and dread at having to go before the king and be selected like a prize horse. but he surprised you, even being every bit as brute and brash as everyone said he’d be, his eyes sparkled when they came across you. he declared you his mate—-a huge deal for a dragon shifter, and shrouded you in the engagement cloak without so much as a second thought. there was no arguing with the king, nor his mating bond. your soul was created to nurture his, and vice versa. he felt this snap into place instantly, as a mortal, you probably wouldn’t feel the strength of your connection for several days to weeks. it was an honor, one you couldn’t believe was bestowed upon you—but you certainly weren’t complaining anymore. “i like you.” 
you feel your body warm a bit from something as simple as his touch. he’s rough around the edges, and certainly doesn’t know how to be gentle or verbose, but his statement makes you smile warmly anyway. “thank you, my king. i’m quite amused as well.” 
he lets his hand slide from your shoulder all the way to your hand, clutching it tight as he brings it to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss. your scent makes his heart skip a beat, and he wonders if he can make it through the next two months without ravaging his sweet maiden. 
the days pass, slowly, but they pass. your king brings you several gifts and trinkets, filling your new chambers with tokens of his affection and fondness for his mate. the dragons were known for this, and your mate was the brightest and biggest of them all. so never did he go out to fly without returning with a clutch of presents. he was always so proud of himself as he showed them to you, shoving all the perfumes and jewels in your hands with a boastful grin. 
“i found these for you. wear them.” he grunts, roughly pulling you into his arms for a crushing hug. he was working on it, but he manhandled you on accident a majority of the time, not used to interacting with women. you were getting used to it anyhow, only giggling and nodding your acceptance, cooing at how beautiful all the gifts were. he preens in your praise, eager to earn the deep affection that the bond produces. 
you couldn’t deny that the bond was starting to affect you, as if you needed any help falling for the monster of a man meant to be your husband. he was kind and loving to you, and you couldn’t ask for much more. he was feared and revered, if you were dumb enough to cross him or his kingdom—soon to be your kingdom, then you earned the punishment of his hellfire tenfold. you wouldn’t find yourself begging for lives to be spared as you stand in the crowd while watching the king dole out sentences. he was brutal, and scary, vicious and primal in every way. his servants tremored in his wake, and though his people loved his protection, they feared his wrath. you were truly the only exception, and it was mystical for everyone to see the fierceness that abounds for his soon to be wife, his forever mate, his queen. and they could only hope your loving tenderness would tame the wild king. 
he took meals with you, showed you around his dreary and plain castle, easily agreeing to your every decoration suggestion and insisting you do whatever you want—this is your home now too. he even took you on rides in his gorgeous dragon form, letting you see how beautiful the sun setting over the kingdom was, flying you to different nations, journeying close to the seawaters so you could feel the salty wind on your skin. he forced himself to sleep in his own quarters at night, trying and struggling to abide by common decency. 
when your wedding day finally arrived, the king was more than ready to make you his queen officially—and then cart you to bed where decency would be the last thing on his mind. the ceremony is gorgeous, the image of you in your wedding gown was never to be forgotten on him, even though he couldn’t wait to rip it off of you. his brain had already geared into the darker side of things by the time you were being shown to your now shared chambers, and he could not resist his mate any longer. 
you weren’t faring much better. however this mating bond usually affected mortal women, it had you ready to climb your king like a tree. as soon as the doors were closed, he was on you, shoving you backwards while hastily tearing at your dress. you assist him in getting it over your head with only minimal rips in the fabric. you can’t bring yourself to care as you fall back on the bed with his body covering yours like a blanket. he’s snarling, but he’s not angry, just eager and too impatient to think about all the lessons he’s learned in being gentle. he scoops you up and tosses you up towards headboard, and you swear you can see steam billow off his form as he eyes you down, watching you lay and spread for him. 
“it’s been hard…waiting for you.” he complains, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the floor. the moment is so intense, you can feel the air thicken, smell the need permeating the air. he’s breathing heavily already, tugging at the weaving strings keeping his pants closed. your breath hitches when you see his scales glisten in the moonlight, the outline of his cock pressing against the troublesome burlap material. you pant out and nod, knowing the growth before you was only the first hint of what he had to pleasure his mate with. dragon shifters are larger than mortal men in every way, reflecting their dragon status in several different physical markers along their bodies, scales along their collarbones and spines, long mane-esque hairstyles, and of course their cocks. he steps out of the clothing, his massive leaking dick slapping up against his abs with a loud smack, you moan. 
his ashy patch of hair and the scarlet scales glistening against his hip bones direct your attention to the monster cock you married. he’s long, thick, curved, lined with veins and a throbbing pink tip leaking his pre-cum in droplets on the bed. it was easily half the size of his thigh, both length and width wise. he fixes himself on the bed, shredding your panties with sharp talons and eyeing your tiny hole. he has all the intentions to stretch you a bit, to get you soaked to accommodate him but when he looks back up at you, you’re drooling. 
you can’t imagine how good that’s going to feel inside you. all the times you had touched yourself out of curiosity or even genuine horniness would hardly compare to this, to the man it’s attached to—the way he watches you like a predator tells you there was nothing in this world that would prepare you for what he was about to do to you–what you wanted him to do to you. “i know…” you say after taking a deep breath, reaching for his face. “i’ve had to wait just as long.”
you squirm in place, lidded eyes flickering from his endowment to his eyes and then back again. “just wanna feel my king…i know you’ll fill me up so well.” you coo, batting your lashes. 
he’s not in the right mind to banter with you, the only thoughts crossing his brain at the sight and scent of you was to ravage. he grips your hips tightly, trying to will himself to be stronger and give his new bride the treatment she deserves. he should prepare you like a gentleman, but unfortunately the young king is unable to will himself to be gentle. you seem to read his mind, nodding and spreading your legs a bit further, allowing him to get settled in the space you provide. he wastes no time in lining up with your entrance and bottoming out. he knows it’s sadistic that he enjoys the way your eyes cross at the sensation, the burning and splitting stretch ripping a sob from your throat. you clutch at his arms, the natural slick you produced just from your own anticipation aiding him in the glide. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him so he can also adjust to the feeling of your virgin pussy gripping him like a hand-tailored glove. he can’t fight the groan that leaves his lips, mindfully keeping his talons retracted as he rakes his hands over your plush stomach and wide hips, stopping to paw at your thick thighs and fat ass. he’s already rendered speechless, only able to grunt and groan as he starts to move, putting your legs up to his shoulders as to not face any resistance. you cry out at the new angle, absolutely feeling the searing heat of him splitting you apart, but you love it. you move your hips against his, head digging back against the pillow at the newfound pleasure.
it’s so hard for him to go slow, especially as you fuck yourself into him and cry out for more. your body takes him so well, as it was designed to, but he still didn’t expect it to feel and look and sound so good. he can see himself in your stomach, the spikes along his base curling into you and hitting every spot so well. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good, his cockhead drilling into your womb so hard it has the corners of your vision turning white. 
he’s growling, unable to repress his animalistic side completely. he leans forward, snapping his hips to yours as your wanton moans fill the room. he lets his tongue lave over your neck, making you gasp out at the feeling. “mate–i need to mark–bite..” he rumbles in your ear, goosebumps rippling over his body when you whine out and nod. 
“please! bite me, got those teeth f’r a reason—” you plead, your small hand guiding his face to the crook of your neck. your eagerness makes his cock twitch, your enjoyment paramount to him just as much as claiming his mate for the first time. he abides by your wishes, sinking his teeth into your flesh and clamping down, feeling you do the same around his dick. you moan out, clawing at his back with your own kind of talons. he can’t stop, driving bruises and bloody spots all along your neck and chest. he’d never go too deep even in his lusty haze, his primal instinct to protect his other half would never allow him to cause permanent harm. he admires his work, “pretty mate, my teeth marks.” 
he grunts out, gripping your hips and roughly turning you over, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you into a deep arch. you scream at the new angle, some blood trickling down your neck and pooling between your breasts. he’s entranced by the shape of your body beneath him, how his hands take up your entire waist and the way your ass ripples as he hammers into you. you’re struggling to hold your body up under the force of his thrusts, gripping the covers beneath you for dear life. he reaches around your hip, locating the sweet bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. your hips falter when he presses his touch to your clit, a little sob coming from your lips as you begin to fall apart. 
“pretty. coat my cock.” he grunts, cock jumping again as you nod and fall forward, your pussy spasming around him like crazy. he feels the rush of you, sending him shuddering towards his end too. “g’nna take my heirs.” he groans, slamming your hips back into his as he spills into you for the first time. 
he pulls out quickly to gather you up in his arms, laying on his back with you protected by the expanse of his chest. you’re incoherent as his seed trickles out of you, and as bewitching as the sight is, he wants you to give him several warrior princes and princesses. so he slides his hands between your legs and chuckles as you jerk when you feel his fingers stuffing his cum back inside. you whine, so sensitive but yearning for all of his touches. he grunts a bit, leaning over to smooth your tousled hair and gently kissing the bruises and shallow wounds he gave you. his kindness touches you, and you relax into his body with a grin, knowing he would hold you to his heart’s content and then have the servants run a bath for the new dragon queen.
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ervotica · 3 months
Text
𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
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pairing; azriel x fem!reader
summary; and so i cry the light is white and i see you
when your wings are taken from you in a brutal act of torture, you see no way to ease your grief. your mate is there to guide you back when you need him most.
warnings; hurt/comfort, ANGST, suicidal ideation, sorta suicide attempt, in depth descriptions of injury
The wind stings at your flushed cheeks where you stand at the edge of the rooftop. It's dark, iridescent balls of light expanding at every edge of your vision as you take a step towards the lip of the roof that overhangs from the house. Wetness clings to your eyes, threatening to spill over your itching waterline when you gaze down to the sea of lights below.
You long to feel the whip of the breeze against your face as you rise and dive into the night sky, to scream and yell at the top of your lungs as your wings flap behind you in tandem with your family.
You'll never feel that again.
You've been a shell of yourself since the day your wings were taken. Had them brutally cut from your body, hacksawed until all that remained were jagged stumps in place of gorgeous, thick corded planes of muscle. Naked. Half the person you once were. Your back is a myriad of scars, still healing and bruised, ripples of broken flesh marring your once untouched skin.
You are broken and ugly and miserable.
It took weeks to even walk again, weeks of rehabilitation, physical therapy with Madja. Weeks of sobbing in your mate's arms as he held you upright, of wanting to claw your way out of your own skin and scream and rage until something snaps you out of this living nightmare. Weeks of Azriel having to force you to eat and drink, to get outside in favour of withering away in your bed.
You're teetering on the edge of the building now, swaying in time with the gusts of air that threaten to send you toppling onto the street below.
"My love, what are you doing?" Azriel's voice breaks you out of your haze, but you don't move; you don't make any effort to step away from the edge. One wrong move from either of you and you're dead.
"I miss flying," you croak.
"I know you do." His voice oozes with pity and it sends rage hurting through your veins like the white-hot lick of a flame. You stumble, swatting Azriel's hands away when he surges forward to wrench you back. Your pulse roars in your ears and you lose focus of his speech, each pleading word blending into one another until you don't bother to decipher the words at all.
"Come back to me," he shouts over the ringing in your ears. "Come back to me, mate."
The name seizes your muscles, pours into your soul like molten lava and solidifies, heavy and unforgiving.
"Why?" you whirl around, heels hanging over thin air, nothing to break your impact were you to fall - or throw yourself - from this great height. Azriel's unnaturally still, not moving, not breathing- calculating how long it would take him to dive after you if you were to slip. "Why do you call me that? Why don't you run from me, leave me here now I'm not of use anymore."
He takes one step, and then another. Sweat beads on your brow despite the frigid chill of the night- his scarred fingers outstretched, waiting for you to take them. The golden thread inside your chest pulls taut like a bowstring. He's calling you home.
"You are my mate." he says. "I need you. Come back to me, my love."
"I'm ruined, Az." The words stick in your throat like syrup. "I'm no good to anyone, anymore. All I'll do is burden you." A sob rips through you. "You won't be happy with what I am now. I just want you to be happy."
The confession almost brings him to his knees.
Something snaps inside of him; eery calm replaces terror as he surveys you with narrowed eyes and a tilt of his head.
This is not your Azriel.
This is the feared shadowsinger- who wears a mask of cool wrath, who bows to no one. A calculated facade of composure.
"You are not ruined," he growls. The glacial fury in his voice has your breath catching in your throat, your insides freezing as if his words have wrapped icy fingers around your throat. "You are my mate, and you will step down and come to me. Now."
You find yourself complying without question, moving away on wobbling legs until your limbs give out and you're tripping over your own feet, hurtling towards the ground. As fast as the mask appears, it slips away, pure, unrelenting relief cascading down the bond.
Azriel's already there, hooking his arms beneath your own to shoulder your weight, a hand atop your head to anchor your body to his own even as you shudder and scream and soak his leathers with angry tears.
"I know, my love. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, the words a whisper into your hair as you claw at him, legs buckled and utterly useless. You're settled against thick muscle, tucked under Azriel's chin where he's lowered you both to the ground.
"I'm nothing," you gasp against his chest. "I have no place here anymore. I'm useless."
His hand is an anchor against the back of your neck, grounding when he squeezes the malleable flesh to draw your gaze to his own.
"You are everything."
The welcome pressure on your neck lulls you into drawing a long breath. Azriel deflates, hazel eyes trained on the rise and fall of your heaving chest.
"I am nothing without you," he continues on. "You are my life and my heart. Were you to die, I'd go by your side with a smile. I can't bear the thought of living in a world where you do not exist."
His wings twitch where they're tucked behind him. Your trembling fingers splay against the sharp angle of his jaw.
"I'm sorry," you croak. "I never want to leave you." His knuckles drag across your cheekbones, brushing away the tears that stain your balmy face. "I don't know how to live like this."
His lips press to your temple, brow nestled against the wisps of windswept hair at the crown of your head. He smears a kiss there and ventures lower. One against your jaw, your chin, in the crease of your brows.
And then he slants his lips over your own. Your muscles go soft, ragged breaths evening as he parts your lips with a swipe of his tongue, a hand splayed against the base of your spine as you sag. He brushes your nose with the tip of a scarred finger.
"Come on," he murmurs, urging you to stand. When you do, he tucks you into his chest, arms slung over your shoulders in a crushing embrace. "I will do anything to make this easier for you, my heart. I know it will be difficult, and I know it's scary. But stay with me."
Your arms tighten around his middle.
"Always."
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runnning-outof-time · 3 months
Note
K, congrats on 3.5K and I was wondering if you can make something about “Why’re you looking at me?” and it’s Tommy or John having a crush? AAAAAAA
Thanks for sending this in, E!! @writers-hes I’m sorry it took me so long to write!! I just had to go with Tommy for it because (if you haven’t noticed already) he’s my fave to write for! The thought of this made my giddy haha. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
Strictly Business
Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: smoking, drinking
Word Count: 1186
Summary: When a business associate doesn’t show, Tommy and (Y/N) make the most of a dinner…and try their best to keep their true feelings under wraps.
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“Do you really need me here?” (Y/N) asked for the umpteenth time as she sat down across from Tommy at the table they’d been led to. She didn’t expect to be dining at some posh establishment today, but for Tommy Shelby, she’d drop her plans and do just about anything if he asked it of her.
Yeah…not the best mindset logistically thinking, but what can she say…she was smitten with him. Problem was that he hardly gave her the time of day with it came to that. Strictly business. That’s what they agreed on.
“I do,” Tommy nodded, fishing a cigarette out of its packet so that he could perch it between his lips and strike a match to light it. He cleared his throat then as he crossed his one leg over the other and sat back, looking around for the person he’d be meeting.
“Guess that’s that then,” (Y/N) commented, more so to herself than anything, as she grabbed the napkin and draped it over her lap. She then began to peruse the menu because hey, if she was going to have to be in this fancy establishment, she was going to sample their wares.
The waiter came over to their table moments later and (Y/N) took her time to chat with him, asking him what he recommended, what was popular, and what would pair well together. She must’ve took around ten minutes trying to figure out the dish she wanted to order. Once she did, the man turned to Tommy. He kept it simple, ordering a whiskey.
“You’re really not ordering anything?” (Y/N) asked him after the man left.
“I figured that if I got hungry, I’d take something from your plate,” he answered honestly, a grin teetering on his lips.
“Bold of you to assume anything will be left,” she countered, her grin matching his.
Tommy just pursed his lips at her statement, trying to stop his grin from growing bigger than it already was. He then accepted the whiskey from the waiter and brought it to his lips, thankful he had it to hide what he was really feeling. Strictly business.
Time passed as the two waited for the business associate to show up. Nothing much was said, but nothing really needed to be said. Tommy and (Y/N) had become accustomed to sitting in silence, and more often then not, they found it peaceful. It was comforting in a way.
About a half hour had passed now, and there was still no appearance of said business associate.
“Is this man coming?” (Y/N) questioned, her brows furrowed.
“He said he would be,” Tommy dismissed her question, sipping on his third whiskey. The fact that he was sat here instead of out making sure everything else was running properly kind of irked him. The only reason he wasn’t marking it as a complete bust was the fact that (Y/N) was there.
“At least we get a meal out of it,” she commented as the waiter brought her dinner out. She smiled up at him as a thank you before surveying the delicious plate of food that was placed in front of her. A wider smile grew on her lips as she looked back to Tommy. “Well…at least I got a meal out of it.” She couldn’t help but correct herself, her teasing statement making Tommy roll his eyes at he fought his grin back.
(Y/N) dug into her dinner, making sure to make an exaggerated comment about how absolutely delicious the food she chose was. She was enjoying her dinner so much that she momentarily forgot he was even there with her.
Which is why when she looked up to see his eyes focused on her with the slightest smile dancing on his lips, she thought her heart was about to jump out of her body. She’d never seen Tommy look at her in that way. It was almost as if his eyes were twinkling, the shade of blue present in them just about making her breathless.
“Why’re you looking at me?” she broke the silence. While she didn’t want to ruin the reverie that had been created the second their eyes met, she had to say something or else she might have combusted on the spot.
“Hmm?” he simply hummed, and (Y/N) wanted to groan. He’s purposefully making this hard on me.
“Why’re you looking at me like that…like you just were a few seconds ago?” she repeated her question.
“What was I looking at you like?” he asked, his brows now raised.
“Don’t make this tough for me, Tommy,” she huffed, her heart going at about a mile a minute. His expression didn’t change. (Y/N) huffed again. He’s really gonna have me spell it out to him. “You were looking at me like…I don’t know, like you were dreaming or something,” she tried her best to explain it.
“I wasn’t dreamin’,” he shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Well you looked like it,” she shot back, sending him a glare that a smile was trying so hard to break through. Tommy lazily shrugged off the conversation, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. (Y/N) shrugged also, focusing - well trying to focus - on her meal once more.
“I was watchin’ you,” he stated after a few minutes had passed.
“Oh yeah?” (Y/N)’s eyes shot up to match his once more.
“Yeah,” he affirmed, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke out slowly before continuing, “I enjoy watching you. Brings some quiet to me mind.”
“Oh yeah?” she answered with the same question she asked before, although her voice was softer this time around.
“Yeah,” he nodded again, leaving it at that, even though he wanted to say so much more to her. He wanted to tell her just how much she had helped him since he met her. Tell her how he couldn’t get her off of his mind, even if he tried. Strictly business.
The conversation ended there, and (Y/N) tried her best to focus back on the meal in front of her. Something was burning in her mind though, something that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.
“Tommy…?” she spoke again after a few more minutes had passed.
“Yeah?” his eyes were on her in a second. They never really left.
“There was never someone coming to this dinner, was there?” she just had to ask him.
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he answered with a vague statement, although his eyes told her a different story. See what Tommy didn’t know was that (Y/N) had gotten pretty good at reading his eyes. She’d never call him out on the truths he brushed over though.
Instead she pursed her lips to hide her smile. “Strictly business?” she checked with him after a few beats of silence.
“Strictly business,” he answered with a nod, ending the conversation there. His answer was short and succinct, but his eyes told her differently.
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*tags in reblogs so that hopefully they get sent out
MASTERLIST
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cevansbrat0007 · 8 days
Text
Hello, Duchess
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Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 
Well, that couldn’t be right. 
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
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Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 
“As much as I can be.” 
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 
“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 
But not now. 
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END 
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Sweet Renegade Series Tag List
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babydollmarauders · 5 months
Text
OH CHRISTMAS TREE — JAMIE DRYSDALE
jamie drysdale x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which y/n is decorating the christmas tree with her best friend and comes to terms with some deeper feelings
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, fingering, p in v, praise, dirty talk, i think that’s all?. (3k words)
notes: welcome to day 3 of the 12 days of kinkmas! please enjoy some soft friends-to-lovers with JD!
p.s. i wrote this prior to us learning that Jamie and Trevor no longer live together, so let’s just pretend they still do for the sake of the fic
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“do you think Trevor is gonna come home tonight?”
my best friend shakes his head at my question, handing me another ornament from the brand new package we bought at the store today.
“definitely not.” he chuckles, “when he goes over to her house for a hang out, he never comes back until the next day.”
Jamie uses air quotations around the words ‘hang out’, which makes me cringe, squeezing my eyes shut as though it’ll help clear my thoughts of Trevor having sex.
“oh, i did not need to imagine that.” he cackles when he sees my horrified expression, nearly doubling over in laughter.
my hand finds its way to his shoulder, slapping against his hoodie covered body.
“you asked!” he shrugs, “i didn’t think you’d picture it!”
“my mind wanders!” i defend myself, elbowing him in the arm as he stands completely upright again. “just gimme the last ornament.”
he finally sobers up, handing me the final ornament and allowing me to hang it on the tree before we step back to survey it.
“we still need to do the topper.” he concludes and i nod, stepping over to the plastic bags on the coffee table.
i rummage through them, my hunt ending when i finally spot the sparkly tree topper. walking over, i strain onto my tiptoes, flexing my arm as far as i can reach to try and place the decoration, but i still come up short.
“let me help.” Jamie gruffs, and i drop back down onto flat feet, expecting him to place the topper himself.
but instead, he stands behind me, his hands coming up to grip my jean clad hips, and lifts me up. taking me by surprise, i quickly place the topper on the christmas tree.
“is it straight?” i ask, peering down in await of his approval, just in time to watch him drag his eyes away from my ass.
was he checking me out?
“yeah, looks good.” i have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh, my mind immediately drifting, wondering if he was talking about the tree or my butt.
he slowly lowers me, my body sliding through his loosened grasp, and as my feet begin to reach the floor, his hands slip up the hem of my sweater. his chilled touch against the heated skin of my abdomen sending goosebumps along my body, butterflies erupting in my stomach.
Jamie tenses, his hands lingering even after my feet are flat against the hardwood, and a light shiver wracks my body.
i like it.
i mean, i know i’ve always tiptoed the line between platonic and romantic feelings with Jamie. even when we first met, i had hoped we would be something more. but then we became best friends, and i never thought there was any chance of us becoming anything else. so i locked those feelings away, living in quiet delusion that they never existed. but now i’m forced to face them again; forced to come to terms with the fact that they’re still there, and i still want more with him.
i turn my head, glancing over my shoulder and locking eyes with my best friend. and suddenly, it’s like i can see into his mind, reading him like an open book.
he likes it too.
i blink and all too quickly, Jamie is dropping his hands, stepping back hurriedly.
“sorry.” he mutters, casting me a small yet forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
i turn to face him, fighting the urge to pull him back to me.
“there’s no need to apologize.” i can only hope that i’m accurately conveying my underlying feelings. that he understands that i mean my words and also that they hold a deeper meaning than just dismissing his apology.
“there’s not?” his eyebrow raises, his hand flexing in front of him as though in a mental battle with himself; whether or not he should touch me again.
my head shakes slowly and i step closer, gazing up through my lashes to meet his eyes. my hand wraps around his wrist, scanning his face to gauge his reactions and emotions as i guide his touch back underneath my sweater and onto my waist.
his fingertips lightly skim my flesh, his sight cautiously flickering between my eyes and my lips. he must find what he’s searching for, because within a moment, his palm is pressed flat to my body, his fingers curling around my waist as he draws me even closer to him. our bodies are mere inches away from each other now, toeing the line between friendly and loving.
“do you…?” he trails off but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand his meaning. i hum in agreement.
“do you…?” i repeat, my vocal inflection rising as i trail off; a question of my own, not ready to make the final jump unless i know for sure.
Jamie groans, finally pulling me flush against him, “god, yes.”
my best friend wastes no time in crashing his lips upon mine, his free hand tangling in my hair to tilt my head back.
a quiet moan travels up my throat, blocked by our locked lips which leave no choice but to vibrate against them.
he pulls away just slightly and i instinctively chase after him for a second.
“how long have you felt this way?” he whispers against me, simultaneously walking backwards, pulling me with him until my knees are resting on either side of him on the couch.
“since we met.” my confession is breathy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on mine again. “i thought i would get over it- that you didn’t see me like that.”
“fuck, i saw you like that.” he sounds pained, his grip tightening on my hips to keep me in place as i attempt to roll them against his. “of course i saw you like that.
“you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind. fuck, how could i not see you as more when you’re literally my dream girl? i never wanted to be just friends with you.”
i whimper at his words as he connects his mouth to my neck, pressing a trail of open mouthed kisses from my collarbone to my jawline.
“the amount of time we’ve wasted-” i’m cut off as he rolls his hips up to meet mine, a broken moan drawn from my lips at the feeling.
“shhh, don’t think about that.” he mutters against my skin, “we know now.”
his grip on my hips loosens as he guides them down to meet his. his lips finally meet mine again, suckling on my bottom lip as i sigh in pleasure.
“bed.” i huff as he pulls away. “let’s go to your bed.”
his arms encircle my waist, holding me to him as he rises to his feet, allowing me to lock my legs around him.
he’s efficient in making his way to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us and dropping me onto his mattress.
“are you sure?” his blue eyes gaze into mine; swimming with concern.
i nod frantically, my fingers coiling through his belt loops to tug him back to me, “absolutely.”
he whines lowly, cupping my face gingerly with his hands.
“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this.”
he bends forward to kiss my lips, kneeling down on the bed between my spread legs.
the kiss quickly develops back into something lustful and intense, my hands shaking with pent up desire as they clutch at the hem of his shirt. i play with it, subtly letting him know that i want it off, but he just chuckles against my lips.
“use your words, pretty girl.”
i mewl at his remark and the way his swollen lips brush against mine.
“off, please.” i whisper through panted breaths. “i don’t want anything between us.”
he backs away, maintaining eye contact as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, drawing the t-shirt underneath with it. i bite at the inside of my bottom lip, taking the chance to memorize every detail of his torso.
every freckle, every curve, every hair or birthmark being lasered into my brain.
he’s so perfect.
his nimble fingers drop to the button of his jeans, unfastening them and pulling them down until he’s left in nothing but his boxer briefs. his half-hardened cock bulges through his boxers, and the sight has me grinding down into the mattress.
he’s gonna ruin me.
“your turn, sweetheart.” he gives me barely any chance to do the work myself, his hands pulling my sweater over my head.
i push my staticky hair over my shoulder, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull my jeans off of my legs.
i’m sat clad in a black bra and mismatch panties, but under his gaze, i find no reason to be embarrassed that i’m not wearing something sexier.
“beautiful.” he murmurs, as though not telling me, but acknowledging it to himself.
i scoot further up the mattress, allowing him the space to crawl to me. his hands and knees sink into the soft surface as he comes to hover above me, capturing my lips with his.
one hand steadies himself as the other explores my body, grazing over my breasts as it runs down my chest. my body shudders in response and i can feel him smirk into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over the padding that covers my peaked nipples.
i yearn to feel his skin against mine, the heat of our bodies mingling; pushing me to arch my back as i slide my hands underneath to unclasp my bra.
he draws back as i slide the straps down my arms before flinging the garment onto the floor.
my nipples pebble against the frigid air, goosebumps littering my body, and i breathe heavily under Jamie’s stare, mentally urging him to do something.
“you’re fucking perfect.” he growls, dipping down to latch onto my breast. his lips close around the stiffened bud, his warm tongue circling as he sucks, and a cry of pleasure echoes off the walls as my head tips back, burrowing further into the pillow behind me.
“Jamie.” my back arches toward him, desperate underneath his touch.
he pulls away with a wet pop, kissing across my sternum and over to the other side while his fingers come to pinch and pull at the nipple he just abandoned.
“i need you.” i breathe out, voice cracking as my hands bury into his hair, pulling him back up to look at me.
“yeah?” he teases. his touch slides down my abdomen until he reaches to waistband of my panties, and as soon as i nod in permission, his fingers are slipping past the elastic band; dipping low into my wetness.
my eyes roll back as he glides his middle finger through my folds, using my slick as lubricant to circle my swollen clit.
“so wet for me.” he groans, his face burying in my neck as his lip find their place against my throat once more. “i could slide into you right now, don’t even need any foreplay.”
i moan, my hips rolling against him as he slips one finger into me, his thumb replacing to continue the contact against my clit.
“but i’m still gonna make you come on my fingers.” he states, curling the finger inside me to push against the spongey spot that makes my toes curl. “then i’m gonna make you scream on my cock. gonna fuck you like you deserve.”
he slips a seconds finger into me, providing me with the familiar pleasurable stretch as the ever growing knot in my stomach tightens further and further.
“Jamie, i’m gonna-” i can’t even finish my sentence, my jaw dropping slack as he finds the sweet spot just behind my ear.
“you gonna make a mess on my fingers?” my abdomen tightens as i clench around his fingers, my eyes squeezing shut as i whimper his name. “taking ‘em so well, like such a good girl.”
and just like that, the knot snaps, his fingers continuing their pace as he rides out my orgasm.
he pulls his head back, watching as my face scrunches in satisfaction, my breath catching in my throat as my hips stutter.
“so pretty when you come for me.” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of my panties as i come down from my high.
my eyes flutter open, my blurry vision focusing as i watch him lick his fingers clean of my release.
my hands fly down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging recklessly.
“please.” i cry and he smiles sultrily, knocking my hands away in order to replace them with his own.
he pushes his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and the bed. his erection presses between us, his tip red and glistening with precum.
his fingers hook into the sides of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them to the side.
“i need you.” i purr, my hand wrapping around his base and causing a shiver to wrack his body.
he moans, leaning over to rummage in his bedside table as i slowly pump his length. the foil packet in his hand is ripped open with his teeth before he shoves my hand away, rolling the condom down his shaft.
my legs spread even wider as he positions himself between them, sliding his cock through my wetness.
my body convulses slightly as his tip drags across my sensitive clit; and at my reaction, he smirks, repeating his actions and making me whimper.
“please,” i beg, “don’t tease me.”
he enters me with shallow strokes, taking his time to make sure i’m throughly stretched out and ready for him.
my legs clamp around his waist, my hips rolling up to meet his thrusts.
“so tight,” he sighs, his head tipping back as i bite my lip to hold in my sounds. “like you were made for me.”
as soon as he’s completely inside me, he pulls almost entirely out before pumping back in, his hand sprawling across my lower stomach to apply a light pressure.
“Jamie!” i squeak as his tip continues to hit against my g-spot with each thrust, my hands flying up to clutch at his back.
my nails dig into his skin, surely leaving crescent indentations in his pale skin.
“that’s right, pretty girl.” his voice is tight and strained, barely heard over the squelching sounds of his dick inside of my wet pussy. “scream my name.”
with each roll of his hips, his pelvis brushes against my puffy clit, my body shaking with pleasure as he fucks into me.
“feels so good.” i shudder out, craning my neck to pepper kisses against his shoulder and throat. “don’t stop.”
his pace quickens, and after my first release, my second is rapidly approaching, the pressure building in my stomach.
“fuck, i’m not gonna last.” he gruffs out, his hand slipping down from my stomach to my clit, rubbing in figure eights.
“i’m so close.” i tell him breathily, my toes curling as i clench around him.
“shit, shit, shit.” his hips stutter, his thrusts growing faster and sloppier as he chases his high.
“Jamie!” my back arches, holding my breath as my legs begin to shake around him, the pressure in my abdomen quickly releasing as i come around his cock.
my vision goes white behind my eyelids while he curses, spilling out into the condom as he continues to fuck me through our releases.
“you’re fucking perfect.” he grumbles, his weight dropping onto me as we both come down from our orgasms.
the room is silent besides the sound of our heavy breaths, and we lay there for a moment in quiet bliss.
“i love the way you whimper my name from your pretty little lips when you come.” he breaks the silence, rolling off of me.
a hiss leaves my lips as he slides out of me, sensitivity in overdrive after two orgasms.
“i love you.” i whisper, turning my head to gauge his reaction at my admission.
a warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparking with joy as he leans in to kiss me, “i love you too.”
unlike the last, this kiss is gentle and sweet, dripping with our aforementioned love, rather than lust.
“let’s clean you up.” he murmurs, rising from the bed.
he pulls his boxers back on, helping me into his t-shirt before he retreats from the room. when he reappears, he holds a wet washcloth.
kneeling between my spread legs, he swipes the washcloth through my folds, cleaning me of my own cum, and my hips buck up at the sensation against my overworked clit. he chuckles at my involuntary reaction, setting the washcloth in his hamper before helping me back into a clean pair of his boxers.
i stand to the side, my arms hugging my body as he changes his sheets, throwing the old ones in the washer and replacing them with fresh powder blue ones.
it’s only seven in the evening, but exhaustion plagues my body, forcing out a yawn, and he peers down at me with loving eyes.
“nap time?” he questions and i nod sleepily, humming in agreement.
he guides me back to the bed, tucking me in before he climbs into his side. his arm wraps around me, pulling me against him under the blanket, and a lazy smile gathers on my face as he cuddles into me.
he presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck before burying his nose into my hair, sighing in contentment.
the room is quiet, aiding me in my efforts to fall asleep; all the way up until i hear footsteps against the wooden floors outside the bedroom, my brows furrowing at the sound.
“is that…?” my question is quickly answered when the bedroom door flies open, revealing a hyper Trevor.
“yo, Jimbo, tree looks good!” the tanned boy grins, bouncing happily in the doorway before his sights lock on his best friend and i.
his eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ shape before he smirks, “FINALLY!”
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orchidniins · 2 months
Note
Do you write for George? If so can we get some smut💋 Loved your first, btw!!!
Island Loving | George Clarke
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Summary: You and George are away on holiday, enjoying your time together, but you two can't seem to keep your hands off of each other. Pairings: George Clarke x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: Anon, thanks for the request! This took me so long to write, like I had planned to get this out 2 days ago, but oh well. This is also my first attempt at writing smut so I apologize if it’s a bit awkward. Also, this was originally supposed to be maybe 2k words, but I got carried away. Hope you enjoy!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"You sure what I packed is enough?", you ask, rummaging through your closet, tossing clothes haphazardly in your attempt to pack for the hot climate.
"You've about packed the whole closet", George remarks, lounging on the edge of your bed. You shoot him a deadpan look as he continues, "We're only going to be there for three days, how many more clothes do you need?" he teases. "Didn't we just go shopping like a week ago?"
"Oh, piss off George," You playfully throw the shirt in your hand at him, hitting him square in the face, which earns a laugh from both of you. In that moment, a rush of gratitude floods over you for the amazing three months you've spent together. From spontaneous adventures to lazy Sundays in bed, every moment with George had felt like a dream and you truly felt like you were the luckiest girl.
You and George were friends before you started dating, and while you've been on group trips before, this would be the first time it's just the two of you. So when George surprised you with tickets to the Maldives for your birthday, excitement and anxiety swirled within you.
"You know what? I give up," you declare, throwing your hands up in defeat as you survey the chaotic scene in your closet.
As you start picking up the scattered clothing, George chuckles and joins in, the laughter lightening the mood. Despite the nagging feeling that you might have forgotten something, excitement bubbles within you at the thought of uninterrupted time with George. Both of you had been busy, making this getaway a much-needed break. And let's face it, having a shirtless George around all the time was a definite bonus.
———————-
As the sun began to set, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, you and George lounged in the pool, the cool water providing relief from the day's heat. Earlier, you had spent the day exploring the stunning beaches of the Maldives, George's laughter echoed through the air as you both raced each other along the shoreline, the warm tropical breeze tousling your hair.
It was late afternoon, as you relaxed in the pool, George's toned physique glistened in the fading sunlight, his abs defined and glistening with droplets of water. He looked effortlessly handsome, and you couldn't help but admire the way the sunlight danced across his chiseled features. Leaning back against the edge of the pool, you watched as George swam towards you, his crystal blue eyes locking with yours.
"You know," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "I could get used to this view." His words were accompanied by a playful grin, and you couldn't resist teasing him in return.
"Is that so?" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you swam closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. George's gaze softened as he drew nearer.
"Are we still the only one's here?", you question, scanning the area. You had been the only ones around the pool for hours now; the last few people leaving over two hours ago. George's gaze doesn't falter though, remaining fixed on you.
George closes the distance between you, the gentle rippling of the water drawing your attention back to him. An inaudible gasp leaves you mouth at the sensation of a hard muscle pressing into the space between your thighs, sending a wave of heat surging through your body.
His hands find their way around your waist, pulling you irresistibly closer, while his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your fingers trace the contours of his toned chest, feeling the warmth emanating from his skin. The tension between you was palpable, each breath charged with desire as you both leaned in for a kiss, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both in a haze of longing and heat.
The heat of the pool seemed to intensify as your lips move in perfect harmony, the throbbing sensation between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. Despite the empty pool area, the possibility of an unsuspecting guest or hotel staff member stumbling upon your heated makeout session added an exhilarating edge to the moment, igniting a daring boldness within you as you contemplated just how far you could push George.
You trail your hands down his chest, savoring the sensation of his hard physique beneath your fingertips. George responds with a bite to your bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from you.
Your right hand moves down to rest right at the hem of his swim trunks, frozen there for a moment as feel George's lips disconnect from yours and attach to your neck instead. He begins to roughly suck at the soft, supple skin at the crook of your neck, leaving a dark red mark in the process.
You continue to tease him, relishing in the reaction he was giving you. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds of the deep guttural groans that escape his lips as your fingertips brush over his clothed cock. His groans get louder as he feels the constricting cloth of his swim trunks rub against his erection.
Your palm rubs harder at the bulge in his trunks, driving George absolutely crazy, and he hadn't even gotten his cock out of his trunks yet. George's grip on your waist gets tighter, his nails slightly digging into your side, the slight pain makes you wince in pleasure.
With a smirk playing on your lips, you pull away, moving your hand away from his cock and placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away gently. Your flushed face betrays the mix of afternoon heat and the arousal coursing through your body.
George protests, his voice husky with desire, "Don't test me, love."
You look at him innocently, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "What are you talking about? It's getting late, and we have other things to do. Come on," you say, slightly moving back in the water.
You turn around and confidently walk to the ladder, pulling yourself out of the pool giving George an enticing view of your glistening skin and the curve of your ass in your skimpy bikini bottom. You make sure to look back at him over your shoulder as you grab your towel and walk off, completely unfazed, leaving George hard and needy in the pool.
———————-
The rest of the day had flown by quickly, and now the two of you were getting ready to go out for your birthday dinner. You were all but expecting George to get you back for the scene at the pool, but so far, nothing ha happened.
You stood in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup. You were absolutely in love with your look; You had on a midi-length blue silky dress, its low back and plunging neckline accentuated your figure exquisitely and the thin fabric was an absolute god send in the hot Maldives' climate.
Meanwhile, George leaned casually against the bathroom door frame, already dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of olive slacks. His intense gaze followed your every move. To him, you looked nothing short of a goddess, and he still couldn’t believe how the hell he had managed to pull you.
“You look stunning tonight Angel”, George says as he walks into the bathroom, coming to stand behind you. Your dress did not leave much room for the imagination, or a bra, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch you. As great as that dress looked on you, he thought it would look even better pooled around your ankles.
“Thanks Georgie, ” you replied, leaning closer to the mirror, focused on your eyeliner.
As George’s hands come up to rest on your hips, you straighten up, your exposed back coming in contact with his firm chest. The proximity makes you aware of just how close he had gotten. You look into the mirror for a second, catching George’s eyes locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled lust.
It was a look you knew all too well. That hungry look was all you needed to know that George was extremely horny right now and that was enough to send the blood rushing down to your bundle of nerves.
Whenever he got like this, he tried to get as close to you as humanly possible, craving any form of physical touch. And when he called you "Angel", you knew there would be no reasoning with the man, especially after that stunt you had pulled earlier today.
His hands start moving up and down your waist, sending shivers down your spine. Though you had no intention of missing your reservation (which was very hard to get, by the way), you still wanted to see what else you could possibly get away with.
You lean down again, this time to put on your lip liner, subtly pushing your hips back ever so slightly more than before. You become acutely aware of the growing hardness pressing against your ass and his grip on your hips becomes tighter, confirming your previous suspicion.
George leans forward, brushing your hair to the side, and starts to gently pepper kisses along your back, the sensation leaving a delightful tingle through your body.
You stand up again, pretending to go through your makeup bag, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. Suddenly, you hear George let out a low chuckle from behind you. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "I know what you're doing," before placing a a few kisses behind your ear.
As George's warm breath tickles your ear, a delightful shiver courses through your body. He turns you around, your back pressing against the counter, his intense gaze locking with yours. A charged silence fills the air, thick with anticipation and desire.
"You've been doing this all day," George murmurs, his voice heavy with want. "Be careful there angel. Don't tease me if you can't handle the consequences of your little game." Your heart races at his words. With a subtle smirk, you lean in closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.
He takes hold of your chin, tilting it upwards, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips sending a jolt of electricity through his body. You meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes, your voice dripping with playful defiance as you taunt, "Oh, and what consequences might those be, Georgie?" Your hand rises, fingertips lightly brushing the flesh revealed by the unbuttoned shirt, teasing your boyfriend further.
You run your hands down his clothed abs, settling right above the hem of trousers. But before you could move down any further, he places his hand over yours, halting your movements. "Well, let's just say," he begins, guiding your hand to place it on the counter next to you while you grip his shoulder with your other hand "keep testing me and you might just find out."
A surge of eagerness courses through you at his words, and you playfully roll your eyes, trying to mask the effect he has on you. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you challenge, though your heart races with excitement.
With a devilish grin, George leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "Why don't you stick around and find out?" he murmurs, the air between you crackling with tension.
"I'd love to, but we have a dinner to get to," you say, slowly pushing at his chest, not wanting George to get his way so easily. But then, As George pulls you closer by the waist, your breath hitches, your back arching as you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. "Nice try." Before you can protest, he closes the distance between you, his lips engulfing you in an intense kiss, fueled by the tension building throughout the day.
He hoists you up onto the counter, his movements assertive yet gentle, as he deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth and your hands move up to tug at his hair. You feel George's low groan reverberating through the kiss, adding to the intensity of the moment, all thoughts of dinner slipping away from your mind.
His lips travelled down to your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along the sensitive skin, each kiss only intensifying the need to want his lips someplace else. He kisses the hickey he had left earlier that day, sucking a little extra hard on the already sore skin. A moan louder than you intended left you lips and you could feel the bastard smirk against your skin.
His hands bunched up your dress, almost hiking it up to your waist, as George dug his fingers into the soft exposed flesh of your things. His fingertips traced a slow antagonizing path towards the place you needed him the most. As his fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, he remarks with with a smirk, "Already soaking wet, are we?", The mere friction through your underwear was enough to weaken you, turning you into putty in his hands.
You hum in response, bucking your hips forward, craving more friction and pressure against your aching core. “Slow down there angel, I haven't even gotten started with you yet." he says in a low voice.
George gently lifts you up and slides your panties down to your ankles, taking them off and throwing them to the side, the cool air now hitting your exposed cunt. Suddenly, George's hands grip tightly behind yours knees, spreading your legs wider, pushing you back, your back now hitting the sink. "Fuck," you gasp, as he starts kissing his way closer and closer to your core. Each kiss and bite on the skin of your inner thighs intensifies the anticipation, making you wetter than you already were.
George's gaze fixates on your glistening wet cunt, his pants getting tighter just at the sight. With a hungry determination, his fingers spread apart your slick folds, "George…fuck," you moan as his tongue licks one long stroke up your throbbing clit, your entire body shivers involuntarily.
His tongue dives into you swollen clit, nipping and sucking at your sensitive core, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body, absolutely wrecking you with just his mouth. He flattens his tongue, expertly lapping at your folds, alternating with rough sucking motions. The sensation ignites intense pleasure throughout your body, and the friction of his beard against your clit sends electrifying waves coursing through you. As you throw your head back in pleasure, your hands glide down the collar of his shirt to grasp onto his back, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders, eliciting a low moan from George.
The lewd sounds of him absolutely devouring your pussy mix in with your gasping breaths filling the bathroom with an intoxicating symphony of desire.
"I-I…" you manage to gasp, your voice shaky as you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Your body trembles from the relentless jabs of his skilled tongue against your clit.
"Can't hear you love," George's murmurs from between your thighs, the vibrations causing a delicious hum to resonate through your folds, intensifying the pleasure pulsing within you.
"God, George! I'm so close," you stare down at him, utterly aroused by the sheer amount of power that this man had over you. You're dangerously close to the edge, feeling the impending release of your orgasm ready to spill over at any moment.
He could feel your legs trembling beneath his fingers. The dirty noises spilling out of you pretty mouth only pushed George to continue abusing your cunt. As he listens to you writhe and moan in desperate need, it's not enough to simply pleasure you with his tongue anymore; he wants more. He wanted to make sure you were fucked out properly, especially after the ordeal you had put him through.
With one final lick to your clit, he pulls away, leaving your pussy trembling. George then places his arms on the counter on either side of you, leaning in to meet you at eye level. You stare at him panting, cheeks flushed and a dumbfounded look on your face. "George.." you whined his name at the loss of contact, the cool air once again hits your now neglected cunt.
"Alright then, angel, get yourself fixed up", he says, his voice dripping with playful authority as he points in the direction he tossed your panties. "We have a reservation to get to." With a teasing smirk, he walks off into the bedroom. "Go on, finish getting ready, I'm waiting.", his words hang in the air, leaving you in a state of both frustration and arousal. There was an ache in your core that could only be satisfied by his touch.
You contemplate for a second, weighing if your pride was worth the sexual frustration for the rest of the night. It didn't take you long to make the decision, "Oh for fucks sakes George", you exclaim, your annoyance evident as you roll your eyes and scream out in frustration, "Get back in here, you wanker!" You wait for a moment, anticipation building, before George came back into view, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.
"That's not how this is gonna work angel," George's words send a shiver down your spine, "If you want it, beg." the command in his voice igniting a fiery need within you. Pushing yourself off the counter, your legs shake as you step onto the cold bathroom floor. George watches you with a proud smirk, his eyes gleaming with want.
You slowly pad over to him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as you approach. Meeting him just outside the bathroom, you reach out, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you look up at him with hooded eyes. "George, please…" you begin, your voice thick with desire, but he remains silent, waiting for more.
"George, please… fuck me," you plead, your words dripping with longing as you meet his gaze. The air thick with tension between you two.
Your desperation draws a satisfied smirk to his face. He would have loved hearing you beg for longer, reveling in the power it gave him over you. However, the undeniable arousal stirring in his pants demanded immediate attention, and at this point, he couldn't resist the urge to simply lose himself in the act of fucking you.
George's lips attach to yours in a sense of urgency. He grabs onto your waist as he pushes you against the wall. "Jump," George says. Without hesitation, you obediently wrap your legs around him, your body responding instinctively to his dominant tone. His hands slide beneath your ass, supporting you effortlessly as he kneads your flesh. The kiss is raw and primal. Your hands instinctively come around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.
The strap of your dress slips off in the heat of the moment. George seizes the opportunity, pushing the dress further down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden exposure, sending a thrill through your body.
His hands trail up to cup one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. George attaches his hot mouth to your bare breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple. You moan in response, your back arching instinctively as you press your tit into his face, craving more of his intoxicating touch.
"George…" you gasp between heated kisses, "I need you right now." With a sense of urgency, you unbutton his shirt. As his shirt falls away, your hands freely roam his body, tracing the lines of his muscular form before settling on his large biceps, feeling their strength beneath your touch. George leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You have no idea how much I've been craving you all day" he murmurs, his voice filled with hunger.
"Just fuck me already," you plead, starting to get more and more impatient. With a swift motion, George gathers you in his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the bed.
George lowers you down on the edge of the bed, your lips still locked in a fervent kiss. He reluctantly beaks away, feeling your lips chasing his, not ready to break your kiss just yet.
With a tender touch, he assists you in removing your dress, which had become bunched up around your waist. He steps back a bit as he begins to unbuckle his belt, you eagerly help him, your fingers unbuttoning his pants and discarding them to the side, leaving him clad only in his boxers.
Your eyes can't help but wander to the bulge straining against the fabric, his cock hard and throbbing with desire, a visible wet spot on his boxers from the precum. With a soft moan, you find yourself unable to resist reaching out to trace the outline of his arousal, your touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.
He nudges you back slightly, and you eagerly comply, crawling further onto the bed, the desire to have him close reaching its peak. As you sit up on your arms, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with mutual appreciation and desire. George's gaze shamelessly roams your naked body, his admiration evident in every lingering glance.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on Y/N," George says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. But to you, he was the epitome of beauty itself. In the dimly lit bedroom, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the windows, George looked like a Greek god, his sculpted abs, broad chest and shoulders, and thick, toned legs rendered him utterly irresistible. While it wasn't the first time you had seen him naked, it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect he truly was.
With his eyes locked on yours, George takes his boxers off, his hard cock springing out, finally free from its confines. The tip red and glistening with precum. He takes it in his hand and gives it a few good pumps. George then strides over to his open suitcase, retrieving a condom with a sense of relief that he had packed a whole box. He rips open the packet and slides it onto his length.
With a hungry gaze, he crawls onto the bed, making his way over to you. With a firm yet gentle touch, he pushes your legs apart, settling himself between them, ready to indulge in the passion that awaits.
He rubs the tip of his cock along your soaking folds, "George", you moan out at the sensation, hands digging into his biceps, urging him closer. George's mouth trails along your collarbone, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that send tingles of pleasure courses through your body.
Without further warning, George slams into you in one powerful thrust, eliciting a strangled groan from your lips as euphoric bliss floods your senses. As he bottoms out inside you, pausing momentarily to let you adjust to his girth, a wave of pleasure washes over you. Even though he hadn't started moving yet, you already felt your orgasm on the brink of spilling over.
George grabs ahold of your hips, his grip firm as he presses your body against the mattress, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The pace of his movements drives you crazy, your mind consumed with the overwhelming sensation of him inside you. "Holy shit, George," you moan out, the intensity of the moment turning you into a trembling, moaning mess.
Hearing his name on your lips sends George into a frenzy, his own desire matching yours as he speeds up his pace, each movement becoming more urgent, more primal. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles turning white from the force of your grip as you surrender to the pleasure that consumes you both.
One of your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, drawing him closer to you as your hands come up to his back, pulling him close. You revel in the feeling of his weight pressing against you. As he thrusts faster against you, your whimpering moans fill the room.
"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," George moans, his voice laced with lust. "You take me so well, such a good girl." he moans. His words have you involuntarily clenching around him. The sensation elicits a groan from George, the pleasure of your tightness driving him closer to the edge as well.
The sensation builds with every thrust of his hips, each movement edging you towards your orgasm. "George, I'm going to c-cum, shit," you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless plea. Despite your impending release, his thrusts don't cease, his intensity driving you wild.
You can't think straight anymore, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. "Fuck, please, I can't take it anymore… I’m so close," you whimper, pulling closer to the blissful release that only George can provide.
Your voice quickly begins chanting his name along with broken moans, intermingled with George's own broken groans as his thrusts start to become sloppier, signaling that he too was teetering on the edge.
Every muscle in your body tenses, your back arching as you're overwhelmed by your impending release. "Fuck, George, you feel so good inside me… George, ahh!!" you cry out, your release a raw moan as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, leaving you seeing stars.
George continues his relentless pace, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. As your climax peaks, George follows closely behind, his release filling the condom with warmth as he screams out your name in pure pleasure, "Shit, Y/N!" The room fills up with a mixture of your moans as you both come down from your highs.
With that, George collapses over you, balancing his weight on his arms to ensure he doesn't crush you. Both of your bodies are covered in sweat, chests heaving against each other. His face nuzzles into your neck, and for a moment, you both stay quiet, just listening to the pounding of his heart—a melody to your ears.
You're the first to break the silence. "I should tease you more often," you say with a playful grin.
George pushes up to look at you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he replies, "Don't even think about it, love." With a gentle motion, he pulls out of you and lands next to you.
With a contented sigh, George pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, his hand gently playing with your hair. "Did you have a good birthday love?" he asks softly.
You look up at him and smile, "Yes, I did, Georgie. Thank you" you reply, placing a peck on his chest, feeling warmth spread through your heart as he sweetly kisses you on your forehead.
"Well, there's no way that we are going to be able to make it to our reservation," you laugh, acknowledging the obvious.
George chuckles in agreement, then asks, "Room service?"
You look at him and nod, "Room service."
The two of you spend the rest of your evening cuddling and enjoying your dinner overlooking the water from the outdoor seating area of your villa. The soft glow of the moonlight casts a romantic ambiance over the scene, creating a perfect backdrop for your special evening, knowing that you couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday with a more perfect man.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A/N: God, I suck at endings. I've been so stressed at work recently and all I can think about is going on vacation, it's all my brain let me write about. Also, Thank you to everyone who has been sending me requests, I'm absolutely loving all the ideas, keep em' coming!
Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊
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ackermanbloodline · 6 months
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A/N: Thank you for sending this request in, anon! I should've probably split this up into two separate parts since it's a bit long but fuck it. I hope you enjoy! (And your English is fantastic.)
Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings: Sexual content. MDNI/18+.
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Covetous Eyes - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader
cov·et·ous (adj.) /ˈkəvədəs/ having or showing a great desire to possess something belonging to someone else.
It has been happening for a few weeks now. 
Captain Levi has been throwing more positive feedback than usual your way during training, way more compared to the other soldiers. Whenever he does so, he makes sure it’s subtle enough so nobody else catches it. He looks around before placing a firm fist on your shoulder with a lowered voice as a compliment drops from his mouth. While very unusual and unexpected, you keep this matter to yourself. You don’t dare to confide in your “friends” about this as you know word would spread quickly across the Scout Regiment. It always does. 
Besides, the last thing you want to do is jeopardize or even risk his reputation. 
Following expeditions, it seemed like his eyes always searched for yours in a sea of blood and corpses. When his icy eyes met yours, his hardened demeanor softened ever so slightly: the crinkles around his eyes ease into smooth lines, his shoulders lower, and his downward frown of a scowl relaxes into a neutral position. You aren’t sure exactly when it started or why. But you know that at least someone in the regiment potentially cared about you and your safety. The thought gave you comfort. 
And what better person than Humanity’s Strongest?
You have recently been working closely with a high ranking officer of the Survey Corp to improve your combat and ODM gear skills: Lieutenant Pryce. He offered to help you with personalizing your gear to your body for maximum efficiency out in the field. He was a few years older than you, taller, even a bit handsome… But you had no time to think about stuff like that. Keeping things professional and friendly are of the utmost importance in these situations. 
However, that was not on your mind at this very moment. Instead, you are focused on throwing all your weight through your wrapped fists into the dummy in front of you. Lieutenant Pryce had urged that your upper body strength needed to be improved in order for the gear to be easier to use. It is late and nobody else is up. Starting tonight, you had plans to spend at least an hour or two in the indoor training area each evening to follow the Lieutenant’s advice. 
Even though you’re wearing a sports bra and shorts, you still manage to come to the cusp of overheating. As sweat lazily drips down the curve of your lower back and another down the side of your cheek, you lose yourself in the physical moment. So much so that when you feel something glide on your side, you jump out of your skin. And instinctively, you throw out a fist with no specific target. 
To your horror, it is Lieutenant Pryce, holding hand over his stomach as a reaction to your punch. Your racing heartbeat immediately settles down.
“Goddamn, you nearly just gave me a heart attack,” you breathe out as you put your hands on your hips. “What’re you doing here?”
“And you just nearly gave me a bowel perforation, I guess we’re even,” he dryly jokes as he presses gently down on his abdomen, wincing slightly. “Came to check on you, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would find you here.”
“Well, thanks, I appreciate that. But I was kind of in the zone. Do you mind?”
He chuckles, “Your transparency and commitment to the Scouts is unwavering. It’s what makes you different from the others.”
“Uh, thanks… I mean, I feel like we all should be equally dedicated to the Scouts. Otherwise why are we here?”
“Fair point. Can I help you out with your stance?”
“Sure.”
The Lieutenant stands behind you as you face the punching bag yet again. You get into your position: legs, slightly bent, hands and arms, protecting your face and upper chest. He presses his body against yours, and your eyes immediately go wide. He wraps his hands around your wrists and pulls them down slightly.
“Your core is too vulnerable, your arms should be here. Also, you should tuck your chin in more towards your chest. Spread your legs a little wider and have one step forward a bit.”
His voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle to comprehend his words. All you can concentrate on is the fact that he’s so damn close. You can feel his body heat penetrating your clothes. It makes you slightly uncomfortable. Would he be doing this to a male soldier? 
“Got it?” he asks, and it snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, clearing your throat, “I think I got it. Thanks.”
“What’s going on?”
And from the shadows, Captain Levi appears, stepping toward you and Lieutenant Pryce. You swallow a thick wad of saliva that formed at the top of your throat. Out of habit, you immediately salute your superior. Lieutenant Pryce stands next to you, unfazed by the Captain’s presence. 
“Was just teaching your cadet here a proper sparring form. Not sure what you’ve been teaching the soldiers, but it looks like you’ve been slacking.”
Captain Levi’s scowl slightly deepens, but only for a second before it reverts back to normal.
“Remind me again from today’s meeting, out of all that have ever existed in the Scouts, which squad has had the highest survival:titan kills ratio?”
“Yours, but—”
“Then until you climb higher in the ranks, Lieutenant, I suggest you affiliate yourself with matters that only concern you,” he turns to you. “And you—I don’t recall giving you permission to continue training at this hour. Your body needs rest.”
“Sir, I want to further master my ODM skills. Lieutenant Pryce informed me that improving my upper body strength can help achieve that goal. He met with the Section Commander earlier this afternoon and granted me special permission to continue training throughout the evenings.”
The Captain’s head turns towards the Lieutenant’s.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir,” you confirm. 
“Then you’ve been misinformed.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s return to Tactical Training 101: it has virtually nothing to do with the upper body,” Captain Levi walks over toward you to point and touch various areas on your body to demonstrate his points. 
You stand there awkwardly, stiff as a board. 
“Performing three dimensional maneuvers is impossible without a precise technique of body weight shifting. The legs and hips are the most crucial for proper functionality as overtaxing the muscles is a legitimate possibility. This is why improving and maintaining proper lower body strength is, on the whole, integral for overall ODM gear mastery.” 
The Lieutenant hesitates before shaking his head. 
“I would have to disagree, Captain Levi. While that all may be true, when I trained, I emphasized upper body strength and saw a dramatic improvement in how I handled the gear. Maybe we’re missing a piece of the puzzle.”
“And how would you train? What exercises? Did you take into account that you were perhaps working your lower body as well during these workouts?”
Lieutenant Pryce is quiet as you can see the gears turning in his head. You notice a pink tinge breaking across his cheeks in embarrassment. He doesn’t speak. Captain Levi’s eyes lower at him.
“I’d recommend you break out your textbooks again to ensure you aren’t misremembering any other tactical operations. It’s one thing for you to believe these things, but you’re spewing them to others and putting those individuals at risk for equipment misuse. Equipment that’s imperative to their survival.”
It’s quiet. The tension and the air is so thick that you can practically cut it with a knife. You swallow a large, awkward lump that had formed in your throat. The Lieutenant scratches the back of his neck and turns towards you, but his eyes don’t meet yours. They remain on the dirty training floor.
“I’ll see you.”
You nod, even though he doesn’t see it. And with that, he walks away without another word, and with his head hanging low. He disappears into the corridor of darkness. Captain Levi turns to you; his tone is audibly gentler.
“If you truly wanted to improve your tactical skills, you should’ve come to me.”
“Yes, sir. I know you always have a lot going on and figured I’d start small.” 
“I see. Did he make you uncomfortable?” the Captain’s eyes bore into yours. “The Lieutenant? He looked to be very close to you just now. I can have him relieved immediately.”
“What? N-” your eyebrows furrow together and you lose your composure for a split second. You take a breath and become as stoic as him once again. “That won’t be necessary, sir.” 
Something flashes across the Captain’s features. Something you can’t quite define. It feels as if the world just includes him and you. Nobody and nothing else. You desperately try to read his face to get a clue as to what is going through his mind. 
You fail your goal when he turns on his heel and looks over his shoulder toward you. 
“Get some rest, now. That’s an order.” 
* * * 
Over the course of the week, you and Lieutenant Pryce are distant. At least when it comes to tactical knowledge, anyway. During training days, he’s still very friendly and cracks jokes at you. He pushes you to do your best, pushes your body just past its limit. He insists it's for your own good. But when you vomit up at least some of your breakfast most days, it’s increasingly hard to believe. 
When everyone is dismissed for the day from training grounds, as the sun sets, you hear Lieutenant Pryce’s voice. 
“Hey,” he says your name. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Currently every fiber of your being is begging for just a moment’s peace after a long and grueling day. You’re sweaty and starving. Parched. All you wanted right now was a shower and some sustenance. Still, you manage to crack a smile in his direction and nod. 
“Sure.” 
He motions for you to talk in private. You two silently walk together and settle in the corner of a quiet, long hallway. 
“What’s up?” 
“I was wondering… we make a pretty good team, right? You and I?” 
“Yeah, I guess,” you chuckle and cross your arms over your chest. “We do alright.” 
“We do. I was wondering if… you’d… maybe want to hang out sometime. Like, outside of work.” 
Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Lieutenant Pryce is doing this. And since you have a horrible poker face, he sees your shock almost immediately. 
“I-I-I mean it’s totally fine if you don’t want to,” his face heats up. “I totally get it if not. A superior asking a subordinate out is totally inappropriate. Just… forget I said anything, okay?” 
“No, I…” 
You often find yourself doing something you don’t want to do out of the sake of making other people feel comfortable and confident in themselves. This is no exception. Call it a character fault. 
“I want to.” 
“Really?” 
You try to be the most convincing, “Really.” 
The Lieutenant smiles, “Okay.” 
* * * 
A few nights later, you find yourself waiting at nighttime by the local water fountain in your nicest clothes. Since everyone has today and tomorrow off for once, the Lieutenant and you decided that this would be the perfect day to spend some time together outside of the Scouts HQ. 
You look up at the moon hanging low in the clear night sky. You aren’t sure what you’re doing here or what tonight will lead to. But you remind yourself to take it one step at a time. Lieutenant Pryce is certainly not bad looking, and he is a pretty good soldier himself. A bit older, sure. But that’s not a concern to you. 
Who knows. Maybe this guy is the love of your life. 
Something grabs your shoulder softly and you’re up on your feet with your hands drawn toward your face in a boxing stance. You almost throw a punch out, but you manage to stop yourself. It’s the Lieutenant. With flowers in his right hand.
“Fuck me...” you swear, catching your breath and flattening your dress clothes neatly on your body. “I thought I told you to not do that.” 
“Stance’s looking better.” 
“Thanks.” 
“You look nice,” the Lieutenant’s eyes crawl up and down your body at an agonizing pace. When he reaches the flowers toward you, your cheeks heat up. Still, you smile warmly.
“As do you. Thank you.”  
“Let’s take a walk, yeah?” 
“Okay.” 
The night begins. You two walk in the darkness of the streets, all asleep at this hour. It’s nice. You’re so used to seeing the hustle and bustle of the daytime that you never thought of what it would be like otherwise. Despite the emptiness, the smell of fresh bread and freshly-caught fish linger in the air. 
You thought that perhaps the interactions between you two would be awkward, but it’s not. Quite the opposite. There are moments of silence, yes, but they aren’t awkward. Neither of you struggle to fill that void. You walk in the quiet together. 
Turns out, Lieutenant Pryce, also known as Greyson, is quite charming. He knows what to say and when. He compliments you left and right. It’s a stark contrast to the person you see dripping sweat during sparring. Almost like two different people entirely. Hours seem to pass by in a blink. When the moon reaches its peak in the sky, you two make your way back to the barracks. 
Right before you two enter HQ, the Lieutenant pulls you aside and you feel his lips on yours. It’s such a quick movement that it happens faster than you can register it. Faster than you can push him away. He stands a few steps back from you with a confused look on his face. 
“The hell was that?” you say, out of breath. 
“A kiss,” Greyson points out obviously. “I’m sorry, was that too forward?” 
“It certainly caught me off guard… why didn’t you ask first?” 
“You make a good point. Just thought it might ruin the mood. May I kiss you?” 
“Now that you’ve asked, yes. You may.” 
Greyson smiles at you and steps toward you briskly. His lips meet yours once again and your back presses against the stone wall behind you. His hand brushes against your cheek and his thumb makes soft strokes against the skin there. Once the tip of his tongue shyly brushes against your bottom lip, you gladly let him in. 
The kiss deepens and so does your breath. Your heart picks up in pace. His hand slithers to your waist and pulls your hips into his. 
“What the fuck is this?” 
When your eyes snap open, you’re met with the blinding light of a torch. You gasp and shield your eyes. Through the gaps of your fingers, you see him. Captain Levi. 
“Captain, I-I…” you begin, but don’t know what to say. 
“You. Get inside. Now.” 
Nothing but the deadliest venom drips from his voice. A stark contrast of how he usually speaks to you. Your stomach drops to your feet. 
“But—”
Commander Erwin’s voice is stern and surprises you. 
“Follow your orders, cadet.” 
You have no choice but to follow orders. Your eyes meet Greyson’s and an “I’m sorry” almost inaudibly leaves your lips. 
Just an hour later, you’re lying in bed. Unable to sleep. Your hair is sopping wet from your shower and your tongue still tastes of peppermint toothpaste. Your eyes stare up into the ceiling above you as your mind replays the events that transpired this evening. Greyson’s laugh, his smile, his eyes, his lips… how he held you. You’re not used to being touched like that. It’s been a while. 
Knock knock knock knock. 
Your eyebrows raise at the unexpected noise. Maybe it’s Greyson. Quickly, you toss your feet over the edge of the bed and approach the door. When you open it, you’re standing face to face with Greyson. But he’s absolutely disheveled. His face is blotchy and there’s a cut on his eyebrow. His eyes are bloodshot and his voice is shaky. 
“Hey.” 
“What happened?” you ask, full of concern. “What’s going on?” 
“I’m being dishonorably discharged… for being inappropriately involved with a subordinate.” 
“Come in and sit down.” 
Greyson gives his spiel. The Commander and the Captain were out on a late night walk themselves and after you left, Captain Levi apparently hit him across the face in a fit of rage, explaining the laceration. Then Commander Erwin pulled Greyson into his office and informed him of military policy of improper relationships between superiors and subordinates. 
It constitutes an immediate dishonorable discharge. 
“And… Captain Levi isn’t facing any repercussions for assaulting you? How’s that fair?” 
“You and I both know that Levi and Erwin are best buddies. He isn’t going to do anything to him. And, unlike me, Levi is indispensable.”
“That’s a conflict of interest if I ever saw it,” you mutter in between clenched teeth. “Do you think it would do anything if I talked to them?”
“No; policy is policy. There’s nothing either of us can do. Believe me, I tried.” 
You sigh and rub your eyes with frustration. This feels like it’s your fault. You should’ve just denied Greyson the date while you had the chance. Neither of you would be in this awkward position otherwise. 
“Hey,” you feel a palm land on your knee. You look up. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“Not really. The Garrison won’t take you, neither will the MPs. Not with you being dishonorably discharged. You’ll probably end up working the fields or some stupid shit like that. And it’s my fault.” 
Greyson shrugs. 
“Who knows, maybe I’ll be better at that than fighting titans. Would be safer, too. And this is not your fault. I asked you out first, remember?” 
“I guess. But in that case, it sounds like you didn’t care much for the Scouts to begin with.” 
“You could say that,” he shakes his head and sighs. You sense he’s getting frustrated with you. In your head, that’s fine, because you’re not exactly impressed with him, either. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. They’re giving me a week to pack up and get out. I don’t think I’ll stay here that long. Word is gonna get out. And I’m not sure how this affects you quite yet.” 
“Yeah. Okay.” 
Both of you get up from the edge of your bed and you two exchange a long hug as well as a goodnight. Greyson leaves and you shut the door. You lean up against it and look up at the ceiling again. A deep breath leaves your chest as you pad over to the bed again. You attempt to go to sleep, but to no avail. You toss and turn the entire night.
* * * 
The next morning, you practically feel the bags hanging from under your eyes. You’re lucky if you got two hours of sleep. And today was ODM training, which means lots of physical work. You avoid Captain Levi like the fucking plague. You’re pissed at him for what happened last night. For the entire morning, you see people whispering into each other’s ears while they look inconspicuously at you. Perhaps it’s paranoia, but you’re not one to doubt yourself. 
As you think about these things, it makes you accidentally misplace a grapple hook into a tree. You fall to the unforgiving gravel ground below, at least three stories high, and skid the top of your forehead in the process. Drops of red drip into the dirt in front of you as you set yourself up on your forearms. 
“Are you okay?” Captain Levi appears at your side, landing smoothly from the sky. He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You feel a warm trail of blood make its way down the skin of your face. He looks genuinely concerned. 
But then you think about what happened to Greyson and a flash of anger runs through your veins. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit without thinking and rip your face from his grip. “I’m fine.” 
You loop your fingers into the hand grips again and take off, leaving Captain Levi in the literal dust so you cannot hear any potential protest from him. As you soar through the air, tears fill your eyes. You make the conscious decision to remain quiet for the rest of the day. 
* * * 
You eat dinner alone in your room. You swiped some food from the Mess Hall earlier since your appetite at that time was nonexistent and you knew you’d be hungry later. You sit at your poorly-made desk, which is pushed up against some windows, and eat your meal in silence. You stare up at the full moon in a glitter spackled sky as you reflect on your day. You didn’t see Greyson all day, although you didn’t really expect to. Would he leave without saying goodbye? You aren’t sure. You really don’t give too much a damn about the guy, anyway. 
Knock knock knock. 
Speak of the devil. 
You open the door and it’s not Greyson, no. It’s the last person on earth you expected. It’s Captain Levi. You don’t bother to serve him a salute. You’re still beyond pissed at him. 
“Good evening,” he greets. 
“Evening.” 
“May I come in?” 
“You may not.” 
“In that case, come to my office in five. We need to have a chat.” 
“Sir.” 
You close the door before he can say another word. You absentmindedly slip into tomorrow’s clean uniform, which is already laid out for you. When you’re done, you make your way to the Captain’s Quarters. You knock three times and state your name. 
“Come in.” 
You twist the door handle open and enter swiftly, closing the heavy door behind you. You see Captain Levi at his desk. His demeanor is relaxed and laid back, so are his wardrobe choices: black slacks with a gray v-neck shirt. You don’t bother to say hello or serve him any kind of greeting. Not even a salute. You stand there and wait for him to speak. 
He lets out a heavy sigh. 
“It’s quite evident that this situation with Lieutenant Pryce has affected you and your performance in the field,” he begins in a calm tone, interlacing his fingers on his desk. “I called you for a one-on-one conversation to gauge the extent and nature of your relationship.” 
“It wasn’t much of a relationship to begin with.” 
“I see. In our interview with the Lieutenant, he seemed quite fond of you. Is this fondness mutual?” 
“I mean, I guess… I didn’t really know him all that well. He was nice and took a genuine interest in my role as a cadet.” 
Captain Levi gets up from his desk and approaches you. You remain unfazed when he is just inches away from your face. 
“Were there any sexual relations?” 
“I beg your pardon?” 
The Captain’s voice has an edge to it, “Did you two have sex?” 
All of a sudden, his proximity is suffocating and uncomfortable. You’re used to sergeants and other figures of authority screaming in your face… but this felt different. There’s a tension to it you can’t quite place.
“N-no… of course not.” 
“No?” 
“No.” 
“See… I don’t quite believe you there. Want to know why?” 
“Yes.” 
“Because…” Captain Levi’s hand reaches out and strokes the side of your face with his thumb. You’re frozen in place and your eyes widen. “I don’t know how anybody can be alone with you… and not turn you into a little writhing mess.” 
Your stomach drops to your feet. You feel an intense blush creep up on your cheeks. It all makes sense now. This is why he’s been so nice to you. Captain Levi of the Survey Corps has a crush on you. Is crush the right term here? You aren’t sure. 
“Captain…?” you call out cautiously. 
“Don’t play dumb when I know you’re not, cadet…” he smirks at you. “I bet that pussy is already wet for me.” 
As much as you’d like to say otherwise, he’s right. The crush the Captain had on you wasn’t unrequited. You noticed his handsomeness the moment you were drafted into the Survey Corps just a year or two ago. He was the talk of everyone: women mostly talked about his looks, men mostly talked about his strength. 
“I…” you struggle to form words under his intense gaze. “Captain Levi… what are you doing?” 
He doesn’t verbally respond. Instead, his hands reach out and grip your waist, pulling you into him. You feel his hard-on in his slacks against your inner thigh. Desire courses through your veins and sparks your libido. His hot breath fans on the exposed skin of your neck. 
“That Lieutenant genuinely thought that he had a chance with you…” he chuckles darkly and presses your hips further into his. “That’s rich. Incompetent ass.” 
The Captain’s lips press against the rigid beating of your carotid and you let out a quiet moan. His lips find yours and you’re absolutely convinced that you’re dreaming. You discreetly pinch the skin of your thigh the hardest you can to get yourself to wake up. 
It doesn’t work. You’re, indeed, in reality. 
You kiss back. Your hands find his undercut and gently wrap little strands of his hair in between your fingers. When his tongue swipes across your lip, you open your mouth in the next kiss. He tastes like leftover wine and mint. One of his hands travels further down and grabs your ass through your uniform. And a harsh smack lands on your left asscheek. The harsh contact causes you to jump in his arms. 
He pulls away. 
“Come on.”
He takes you to his sleeping quarters, which is sparsely decorated and fits a minimalist aesthetic. The only light the room provides is the candles that are lit on his bedside tables. When he closes the door behind you, his lips find yours once again. He pushes you up against the nearby wall and his hands wander all over your body. They tend to linger longer on your breasts and ass. 
He uses his strength to pick you up and guides your legs to wrap around his hips. He buries his face into the open section of your white button up. He inhales your scent. Clean and perfect. You work to unbutton your shirt so the Captain has more access to your chest. You pull it off your shoulders and it falls to the floor in a heap of fabric. You’re left in a bra and the Captain kisses every inch of skin he can. 
He walks you two over to the bed and lays you down. The bed is firm, a bit uncomfortable, even. You’re confused when he gets up and stands at the edge of the bed at your side. His bony, veiny fingers work swiftly to remove his belt. Once that’s on the floor, his thumbs loop into the waistband of his slack and he pulls those down to his thighs. He frees his cock from his dampened black boxer briefs. 
“Give me your hand.” 
You do as you’re told. Once he has it, he opens your palm wide and spits into it. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion in surprise. He lowers your hand down to his cock and closes his fingers around yours. He guides your grip up and down. It feels so good for him that you can visibly see his abs retract and expand with each ragged breath taken. 
When you get a hang of the pace and tightness he wants, his touch leaves and buries itself down in your waistband. The tips of his fingers ever so softly stroke your soaked pussy. He licks his lips and his eyes snap shut. Your hips rock up to meet his touch. When you lean over and begin to suck him, Captain Levi’s nimble fingers move quicker against your clit. Both of you two moan louder as a result. Your mouth works to worship his dick like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. 
“You’ve been starving for this cock, huh?” he taunts. 
“Yeah,” you mutter. 
“Good. Because it’s wanted you.” 
You pick up the pace even further at his words. Your fist works the part of him your mouth cannot reach at the perfect pace. Your wrist twists and turns as it slides up and down. On occasion, you stop and spit on it for more lubrication. Captain Levi’s fingers circle your entrance teasingly before pushing them in. He keeps going until they’re completely buried inside to his base knuckles. 
“God, you’re so tight,” he strains when his hips begin to slightly buck into your mouth. “All for me.” 
You look up at him and you bat your eyelashes a few times. With his other free hand, he pushes a few strands of hair back from your face and eyes. He captures his bottom lip in between his teeth. The sight of him in your mouth is almost enough to make him cum on the spot, but with lots of willpower and self control, he holds himself off. 
You struggle to give him proper oral when he hooks his fingers upward and moves his entire arm up and down. The heel of his palm pushes into your clit. When it gets too much, you plant sloppy kisses on his hip and continue to jack him off. And shiny pearls of precum drip down from his swollen tip into your hand to make up for the absence of your mouth. 
You try to match your pace on Captain Levi’s dick with his pace on your cunt but it’s impossible to keep up with. He’s going so fast, so rough. It makes your whole body shake. The most pathetic moans and squeals drop from your lips. 
“Kiss me,” you nearly beg in between whines. “Please, Captain.” 
He is obedient and lowers down to your lips. He gently removes your hand from his length and pins it onto the mattress below you. He doesn’t stop fingering you. Your walls clench around his fingers and he feels it. He revels in it. You wrap your arms around him and your nails dig into his back. 
“You’re close, huh?” 
You nod your head. 
“I’m going to make this pussy cum so many times, you’ll forget the Lieutenant ever existed. Do you understand?” 
“Yes, I… I understand.” 
“Good,” he almost smirks victoriously. “Now… make me proud and cum all over my fingers.” 
“I’m so, so close… I just… don’t stop.” 
Captain Levi nods and continues the same thing as he’s been doing for the past 10 minutes. And, in doing so, he rips orgasm after orgasm out of you. When you cum, he doesn’t stop or waiver, even when you’re a squirming mess beneath him. Your heart rages in your chest as he talks you through each and every one. 
“Tell me how good it feels … Let it out, it’s okay … That’s a good girl, I want you to be absolutely soaked by the time I fuck you … You’re so good to me … I know, baby, I know … Keep going, I know you can do it … That’s right, fucking take it.” 
You lose count after five and you nearly want to pass out. Your legs are like jelly and lethargy pulls at your eyelids. Your pelvic floor is pulsing and throbbing. You feel fucked out already, which is a gross understatement. And you know that he isn’t close to being done yet. How much more can you take? You aren’t sure. 
“Please…” you quietly beg as you try your best to grip his vein-riddled wrist at your sex. “I want you inside me.” 
His dilated, dark eyes meet yours before his lips go to your ears. 
“Are you sure you want that?” 
His tone is so low and breathy that it sends a shiver down your spine. This simple action sparks your libido again and you feel like you can go for another 100 rounds. Your eyes pop open and you wrap an arm around his neck. In one swift movement, you manage to roll him onto the bed and straddle his waist.
The look on his face is priceless, especially when you slide him inside without any warning. 
His cock slides in with a squish. He’s hard as a fucking rock. His mouth drops open and he throws his head back into your favorite pillow. His hands land on the sides of your ass. He helps aid your movements since you’re not able to ride as well as you normally can due to your exhaustion. 
He looks so pretty when he’s being fucked. The long section of his undercut spread out across the pillow, his eyebrows furrowed together, eyes slightly widened, a blood blush across his cheeks. 
You lean over and grab his chin while you use your other hand to steady yourself on his chest. Your tongue smoothly swipes across his lips and he groans. He flips you two so you’re on bottom once again. Before you can react or protest, he hooks both of your legs up and over his shoulders. He wants to get deeper. The deepest he’s ever been in anyone. When his balls press hard against your ass, he knows he’s accomplished that mission. When you feel his tip gently brush your cervix, you know he’s accomplished that mission. 
He leans up and grips the backs of your thighs to absolutely rail you. He’s pushing into you so hard and fast that you have to use your arms to brace yourself against the headboard in order for your head to not smash against it. It’s almost animalistic, the way you two are fucking. The sound of his thighs slapping up against your ass fills your ears. It’s a sound you always love. 
His cock slams up into you over and over and over again. Brushing up against that spot inside you that makes you a mess every time. You reach a hand down on your clit and rub in tight, fast circles. It makes you scream out.
“Greedy girl,” he nearly chuckles. “How foolish of me to think you had enough earlier.” 
He pulls out and, like a lightning strike, pushes your hand away to make room for his face down between your thighs. His tongue makes circles around your clit and he laps you up. Every single drop of your cum and his. The same two fingers he used earlier enter you and do the same as before. When you reach that edge, he stops. He repeats this process several times. 
At this point, your entire inner thigh area is just absolutely soaked in a mix of the Captain’s saliva and your cum. You grab his head and pull his face up to yours. 
“Please, please Captain… please fuck me.” 
“You’ve had enough, hm?” he taunts as his fingers reach down to your clit and gently smacks it a few times. It’s so sensitive and raw that it makes you wince. “You think he could’ve fucked you like this?” 
“No… not in a million years.” 
Captain Levi smiles victoriously. 
“Smart girl.” 
He reaches down to grab his cock and rubs the head over your clit up and down a few times before pushing it back inside. He buries his face in the junction where your shoulder meets your neck and snaps his hips harshly into yours. The bed creaks and squeaks while he does so. He’s fucking you hard, fast, and deep. He’s fucking you as if his life depends on it. 
His mouth travels up to your ear and begins to kiss at your earlobes, occasionally sucking on them and him breathing heavily drives you wild. It sounds like he just ran a marathon. 
“Captainnn, shit,” you moan out as you feel the coil inside you start to break again. 
“Who’s pussy is this?” 
“Yours, fuck, your pussy.” 
“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it.” 
You nod your head and he props himself up using his arms to take a good look at you. Flushed cheeks, mouth agape, eyes almost closed… in his mind, you look so good. And when he looks down at where you two connect, he almost cums. The squelching of you two coming together, the glistening of his dick, your pathetic sounds. It’s too much. 
When he keeps up the same rhythm, the same pace, it’s inevitable before you cum all over his cock. And it feels divine. He fucks and talks you through your orgasm once again, his cock continuing pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your pelvic floor clamps onto him like it doesn’t ever want to let him go. Your pussy wraps around him so well that Captain Levi is convinced that you are made just for him. 
“That’s a good girl. I need you to do that at least five more times before this night is over. I don’t care how long it takes.”
He grabs a hold of your chin and forces his thumb in your mouth for a better grip. 
“You got that?” 
“Mhm,” you say, half dazed from your orgasm still. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl, all fucked out already…” he chuckles and his other fingers slap up against your cheek just enough to leave a little bit of a sting. “Doing so well for me.” 
You come through on the Captain’s wish and cum at least six times on his cock. You’re so exhausted, you’re sweaty, your mascara is running down your cheeks, and your fingers are pruny from playing with your pussy. When you’re laying down flat on your stomach and he’s fucking you from behind, you’re completely out of energy. You lie there and take it. On occasion, his hand slaps hard on your ass. 
“Shit, I’m close,” he whispers hotly against your shoulder blade. “Gonna cum on your back.” 
You nod and reach a hand back to his thigh to encourage him to do so. He reaches in between your legs and circles your clit. 
“Captain, I… I can’t… I can’t cum again.” 
“We’ll get you there. Don’t you worry.” 
Just a few minutes later, your last orgasm rips through your body. When you cum, so does the Captain, although he doesn’t stop his actions on your clit. He pulls out and continues to stroke you both at the same time. All you can register is warm spots littering your back and his moans echoing in your ears. He stills against you and stays like that for a while. 
When you both come down from your highs, you fight the urge to immediately pass out for the night. But there is no way in hell that you’re sleeping on this uncomfortable bed. You prop yourself up on your forearms to start to get up but he stops you. 
“Hold on,” he commands. “Let me clean you up.” 
You expect him to get a towel or a washcloth. Instead, he hovers over your back and begins to clean you up with his mouth. Patiently, you wait as his tongue laps up every drop of his cum. Since there’s so much, it takes a few moments. The simple action sparks your libido once again, but you’re done for the night and don’t plan to act on it in any way. 
He gently flips you over and uses his thumb and index finger to gently pry your chin so your mouth opens. From his, a combination of spit and cum drops into yours. You stick out your tongue to make sure you get it all. Some drops onto your chin and he leans over, licks it up, and kisses you. He wants to make sure you don’t miss a drop. 
“Good girl,” he smirks down at you. 
Captain Levi Ackerman smiling… what a sight. 
“I should head out,” you motion toward the door. “Got drills in the morning.” 
“Of course.” 
You both get dressed and the Captain walks you to your sleeping quarters. You’re struggling to walk and you pray that by tomorrow morning you’re back to normal. In his mind, he is prideful. You won’t be thinking about that stupid Lieutenant for a long time. He knows he’s all you’ll think about for the next while. 
When you get in, you glance at Captain Levi through the crack in the door. 
“Have a good evening, Captain.” 
“You too, get some sleep. You’re going to need it.” 
He leans in and plants a kiss to your hairline. 
Mine, he whispers against it.
579 notes · View notes
linopls · 6 months
Text
kinktober day fifteen
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degradation seungmin x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, uses of the word 'slut', unprotected p in v, facial, i could've made it worse than i did but im so soft for seungmin don't come at me. 0.9k words
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“you know,” you say softly, swirling the straw of your iced coffee. your boyfriend seungmin is sat across from you in the only decent cafe on campus, sipping his hot latte and typing away on his laptop. “you don’t have to be so nice to me all the time.”
seungmin doesn’t break eye contact from his laptop. “it’s my job to be nice to you. it was in the boyfriend contract or something like that.”
“no, no. i mean like-” you quickly stop yourself, realizing that a conversation like this cannot be held in public. 
seungmin’s eyebrows scrunched together and he tilts his head like a puppy when he looks up at you. “say it.”
your eyes wander around the cafe, surveying the amount of people in eavesdropping distance. you stand up from the booth and lean over the table slightly, seungmin leans in to meet you halfway. the sentence you whispered into his ear could’ve made him cum on the spot.
“you don’t have to be so nice to me in bed. i’m not that fragile.”
seungmin leans back in his chair and you swear if he was in a cartoon his eyes would’ve sprung out of his head and his tongue would fall out of his mouth. he stares at you in silence for a couple seconds, mouth agape. 
“come on,” he says rather strictly. he closes his laptop and places it into his backpack. “we’re leaving now.”
“what?” you ask, not moving from your seat. 
“put your stuff away. we are leaving,” he says through gritted teeth. 
you comply quickly, throwing all your belongings into your backpack and following him out the door. seungmin grabs hold of your wrist and walks you back to his apartment, just a couple minutes away from the cafe. 
“seung, did i say something wrong?” you’re first to break the silence. 
seungmin pushes the elevator button for the fifth floor. “no,” he says softly.
as the elevator dings and the door opens, he’s pulling you by the wrist again into his apartment. before you can set down your bag or remove your shoes, seungmin has you pressed against the door and places sloppy, wet kisses down your neck.
he plants kisses over top of your clothes, in a straight line to your lower stomach. with one swift motion, he pulls your pants down to your ankles. he parts your legs with his hands and takes one of his fingers and swipes it through your folds.
“god, y/n, you’re already soaking and i’ve barely touched you.”
you moan out loudly and seungmin chuckles. 
“min, i need you,” you whimper. you grab him by the collar of his shirt. 
“desepate today, aren’t we?” he teases. he interlocks his lips with yours and kisses you gently while slowly undoing the tie of his sweats and dropping them to his ankles.
he helps you step out of your pants and motions for you to jump up into his arms. he wraps his arms around you legs and supports you with a firm grip on your ass. he walks you over to the kitchen counter and lines his cock up with your entrance.
“beg for it,” he commands and the words immediately start pouring from your mouth.
“please seungmin, i need you so badly. please.”
he slams his cock into your soaking wet hole and you wince at the stretch.
“oh come on, you can take it. you do it all the time, it’s no different,” he coos in your ear. something about his words send shivers down your spine. he’s never spoken to you like this before, its so out of character and that makes it a million times more errotic. 
you wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to thrust into you with no mercy. your nails claw at his back and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle the parade of noises coming from your mouth.
“finally quieting yourself? don’t want my roommates to hear you, do you?”
your eyes widen. you had completely forgotten that he lives with two other guys and that they might be home and could hear you both out from their rooms.
“gone completely quiet now? ashamed of how easy and slutty you are that you’ll let me fuck you in my kitchen where any one of my friends could see you?”
the sound you make is a moan you’ve never made before. you clench hard around seungmin’s cock and whine profusely as he moves one of his hands to your clit. 
“seung, close,” you moan into the crook of his neck.
“so close so quick?” seungmin purrs. “damn, you are so easy.”
“cumming,” you cry as you feel your cunt pulsing around his cock. 
“fuckin’ slut,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, harsh and quick. you whine as seungmin continues to overstimulate you while he brings himself closer to his own release. 
“get on the ground,” he spits, pulling his thick and angry cock from your hole.
you quickly climb off the counter and place yourself on your knees in front of him. he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and places the tip on your mouth.
“open your mouth, slut,” he says, jerking his cock with a tight fist. with a couple of pumps, he sprays his release all over your face, most of it landing in your mouth but some on your cheeks and dripping down your chin.
he grabs you by the chin and helps you stand on your feet. he presses his lips to yours, harshly and passionately, and backs you against the counter again.
“i know you can take me again, slut,” he says, lips against yours. “let’s go back to my room, i have something i want to try this time.”
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pov im so sorry about how late this is.
@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 
@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 
@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28
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saekkas · 10 months
Text
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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐓����
summary: dates with michael kaiser are fun, more so when they turn into a three-hour sanrio shopping spree.
notes: this is my attempt at spoiling him <3 also big thanks to @mirahua for the inspo! go ahead and *grabby grabby*
[wc: 915]
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"do you really need to buy that much?" you honestly don't know what you're looking at, and you honestly don't know whether to be concerned or amused. "you're going to rob this whole store clean."
currently, it's the beginning of july, and kaiser, being the lovely boyfriend that he is, insisted on taking you out to the mall. window shopping, he called it.
more correctly, you're taking him shopping. especially with the way he's currently filling up your trolley with sanrio plushies.
"stop judging." kaiser glares, all pout and no bite. in his hand is a small cinnamoroll plush, one that looks suspiciously like him with blue eyes and blue star patterns on its ear.
he's holding it with such love and care, and you have to stop yourself from snorting when he lifts it so that they're face-to-face. "besides, how can you resist? he looks exactly like me!"
"that's exactly why i can resist."
your words catch his attention, and he scowls, playfully hitting your face with the plush toy's hand. "how dare you!"
"i'm kidding," you laugh, nudging him back with the hand that's not pushing the trolley. "but when i see headlines of you robbing a miniso, i'm totally sending them to ness."
his lips aren't the only one smiling. his eyes are bright, his shoulders seemingly light. your boyfriend looks like a child here, comfortably in his element, even with the people staring oddly at him.
it makes you happy that he's happy. it's enlightening to see the mikka that could be. the mikka that should be.
"yeah, yeah, whatever." even his words hold a sweet lilt to them, and you can't even bring yourself to complain when he throws a hello kitty themed soda can into the trolley. "i think i'm done."
you quirk an eyebrow, giggling as you survey every item he's managed to throw in. "aren't you forgetting something?"
you watch the flurry of emotions that pass through his face. confusion, confusion, and more confusion.
his eyes stray behind you, brightening as he extends a hand to show another sanrio plushy, this one modeled with him beside it.
"no," you laugh, wrestling the very cute toy out of his hand. "you've bought enough already!"
he pouts, and it's eerily similar to the toy he was holding earlier. "but don't you want a mini me at our house? a very special, limited addition mini me, part of the sanrio collaboration?"
"nice try but we should get the thing we actually came here for." you hold back a squeal when he tilts his head, looking oddly lost.
his cheeks have grown in lately, courtesy of your cooking, and now he's looking too much like baby mikka from the photos his mom showed when you came over. too cute to say no to.
"the very special, very limited addition hello kitty headband you wanted?" you watch as he perks up at the words, making a beeline to the other side of the shop right after.
you discreetly throw the plushy into the trolly as he leaves.
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you suppose bringing your big baby of a boyfriend has its perks. not only does he come with a black card, but his fans are everywhere, letting him cut through the ridiculously long line of adults holding onto stuffed sanrio dolls.
"you should do some fanservice," you hum, holding onto a bag as he holds onto another, your free hands intertwined together. "blow some kisses or something."
there's a ruckus of screams as kaiser does just that, a smug smirk on his lips as he waves to his fans, tugging you to the exit with him. "they love me."
"careful, there." the screaming doesn't stop, not until you're both out of the mall and in the parking lot.
even then, there are a group of girls following you both around, smiling and giggling shyly, trying to catch his attention. "your head's going to become so big it won't fit through our door."
"why are you so mean?" he whines, pinching your cheek when you both finally get into his car. "don't you love me too?"
"nope." the words are out of your mouth in a second and he glares, taking your hand to squeeze it tightly. he backs out of the space, a hand on the wheel and the other in yours but the pout on his lips never fade.
you sigh. "okay. fine. i love you too."
he squeezes your hand every few seconds after that, his head turning back and forth, torn between wanting to look at you and having to look at the street.
when the car meets a red light, he steps on the breaks, leaning over the console to kiss your cheek. "what are you reading?"
you quickly show him your phone, laughing when his jaw falls at the headline written on the screen.
BASTARD MUCHEN'S MICHAEL KAISER SEEN AT LOCAL STORE, HOARDING NEWEST COLLECTION OF SANRIO TO HIMSELF.
"the nerve," he grumbles, continuing to glare at the street when you take your phone back. "what's wrong with me collecting? can't people have a hobby these days?"
he stares when you show him your phone again, this time of a comment someone posted on the article.
user mirahua: can't believe i actually simp for this blue painted red flag. can't believe he looks like hello kitty too. i hate hello kitty.
kaiser can only grumble, muttering curse words under his breath as you laugh the rest of the way home.
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acidxinxwonderland · 10 months
Text
corruption has never been so sweet
18 plus smut shot! Minors DNI!!!
Pairing: Glamrock Freddy x F!Reader Summary: Ever since you began taking the night shift as a security guard at the Mega Pizzaplex, Freddy always kept you company throughout the night. You were spoiled with his attention to say the very least, but the one time he doesn't show up you are bound and determined to find him. Once you do, it turns into a night the both of you will never forget.   
Warnings: Size difference, VERY strong ABO vibes, knotting, rutting, unrealistic sex, breeding briefly mentioned, dom feddy, marking, bonding, a little bit of blood, robot/human
Word Count: 6.5k  A/N: This is the most degenerate thing I have EVER written for Freddy, just pure self indulgence to tide me over while I write the longer fic involving him, hope you enjoy! As mentioned in the warnings this has STRONG ABO vibes, it's just written in my own way so be warned of the shameless smut, Freddy is basically an alpha. Also... I’m sorry LMAO. Keep your eyes out for a gender neutral version in the next few weeks for all you NBs out there B) Here is the ao3 link in case that’s more your style: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48255442
Being a night guard at the Mega Pizzaplex was always something you enjoyed since you began working here seven months back, despite all the walking and the sticky situations you have found yourself in you always felt comfort in a certain animatronic bear you've come to love dearly. This bear always made sure you had company during your nightly rounds, mindless chatter about his day and sharing fun jokes. Every night he would find you to walk along with you, yet tonight you haven’t seen him once.
You thought at first maybe he was in need of repairs and was stuck in parts and services for the night but when you checked to see he wasn’t there. He’s never done this to you before, it fills you with concern so you thought you might as well do a wellness check on your good friend.
You find yourself walking down Rockstar Row halfway into your shift, you weren’t supposed to survey this area yet but you just had to make sure he was okay. You peer into each green room, giving Chica a wave when passing hers while making your way to Freddy’s. While strolling past the large window you see a glimpse of him through a sliver of the red curtain, now that you know he was there you pick up your pace. You go to the door and immediately swipe your badge to slide it open.
Once the door was open you see Freddy was standing in front of the mirror, seemingly staring at his own reflection with his large hands on each side of the desk before snapping his attention towards you. It takes you seconds to realize something was off with him.
“Ah, hey Freddy. Just wanted to check in on you, I noticed you didn’t find me and well… Here I am.” You let out a small nervous chuckle, giving the robotic bear a kind smile.
“Superstar, I am truly sorry but… You must stay away tonight.” Freddy growls out in this deep, animalistic voice you never heard before, it causes the hairs to stand on the back of your neck. He pushes himself off from the mirrors table to take a step away from you. “I... I am not right.”
An expression of concern falls on your features while you notice his disheveled state. You were worried before but now the feeling was tenfold, wanting to help the animatronic you fell in love with.
“Not right? Well… I don’t mind being here if you need the support.” You say in a careful tone, almost as if you were talking to a wild animal. You take a step closer and he immediately goes back, causing a frown to tug at your lips.
“Please, it is not a good idea for you to be here at this moment.” While he talks you notice the way he rumbles each word in this dangerous tone that sends shivers up your spine.
“You could never scare me bud, I’m here for you. What’s going on with you? Do you have a glitch of some sorts?” You get even closer and this time he doesn’t back away, glowing blue optics zoning in on you.
“Do not act coy with me.” He grumbles out in that same deep tone. “Do not pretend like you do not know what is going on.” You’ve never heard him speak to you in such a way, feeling your heart plunging down to your stomach as the alarm bells in your head finally go off.
This time it was his turn to approach you and for you to back away. Although you don’t get very far, in a blink of an eye his immense paw-like hands enclose around your shoulders, continuing forward so he could roughly push you up against a wall.
“You must have done this to me, if not you then who else?” He snarls down at you, baring his fangs.
Your eyes widen, feeling the smallest sense of fear as you scramble to speak. “F-Freddy! I don’t k-know what you’re talking about!” You press your hands up against his chest plate, pushing at him despite knowing full well you would not be able to get him off of you no matter how much you tried.
“You don't?” He speaks sharply, leaning in closer to you with the look of a predator sizing its prey. “Then tell me why your scent alone has been affecting me so heavily? Why do you make me feel this way? You must have done something to me, corrupted me somehow.”
You are completely taken aback by his words, it almost felt like you were talking to an entirely different animatronic yet deep down you knew that this was still the same bear you love so dearly.
“I promise you, whatever is happening to you it has n-nothing to do with me. Please trust me on this.” You are desperate while you talk, giving him a pleading look in hopes of convincing him.
His grip on your shoulder loosens as he registers what you say, closing his eyes tightly to regain his composure. “You… Your voice, your scent.” He whispers, brows furrowing. His massive paw-like hands trail down your arm, seeming to begin to calm down..
His eyes slide open, giving you a look of remorse that brings you a sense of familiarity once again. “You’re right superstar, I am truly sorry for what I’ve just done. This was not appropriate of me at all. Please, you need- no, you have to leave.”
You feel a twinge of annoyance from his demand. “No.” You start sternly, shooting him a glare. “You really think I’m going to up and leave after what just happened? Something is clearly wrong Freddy. You’ve got to tell me bud, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on with you.”
“I-” He looks off to the side, reluctantly taking his hands away from your arms. “I don’t know exactly what I am experiencing but… I have an idea as to what it could be.” Freddy sounded so distraught, it was so strange for you to see him in such a state.
Your eyes soften from his clear confusion, still feeling deep concern for the bear in front of you.
“That’s okay that you don’t know.” You place a hand on his large arm and he appears to stiffen from your touch. “Why don’t you break it down, what are your um… Symptoms?” As soon as you asked this question his expression turned into one of shame.
He lets out a mechanical sigh, forcing himself to speak. “Well… Everything about you has been making me ache in a way I never felt before. This has been an issue since we first met, but recently it has gotten much worse. It’s been… Frustrating to say the least.”
Your eyes widened as he explained what was happening to him. A deep blush settles upon your cheeks as your already racing heart goes into turbo mode. What the hell was he even talking about?! Was he basically admitting he had sexual feelings towards you?
“W-what do you mean I make you ache. I-in what way?” You stutter out the question, convincing yourself that you had it all wrong.
“Do I really need to explain it?” Freddy growls out in this low, husky tone. You shudder out from his voice alone, body going rigid as he places a hand against the wall besides your head. “Although there is something I do know… The only reasonable explanation I have found for these feelings is a similar pattern of certain species of animals who are afflicted heavily when they enter a… mating season.” He cringes at the last words, having to look away from you in embarrassment.
You are in complete shock at his words, feeling your entire body get impossibly warm as your eyes flicker to his muzzle. You try to process what he is saying. Matching patterns of certain species of animals… He’s a robotic bear so that means…
“You’re- you’re experiencing a rut.” You bluntly state. “Because of me..? You don’t feel this way towards anyone else?”
“Yes superstar. You are the only one who is making me feel this way.” He mutters the answer out, groaning lowly. “It is just you. I’ve never experienced this before… I can’t think straight.”
The frustration was clear in his voice and you rub his large arm up and down soothingly. Despite the sympathy you feel towards him you feel like you are in a dream. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that the animatronic bear made to entertain was basically in heat and it’s all your fault. This whole situation causes your own arousal to stir deep within your core, trying your best to push past it as you give him a reassuring look.
“It’s going to be okay Freddy. Just try your best to relax for me, alright? Tell me, what’s going through your mind right now?” You keep your voice calm despite how you hear your own heart beat pounding wildly in your ears. You’re curious, having the need to know more.
“It’s like… My thoughts are muddled by your scent.” He says in a choked voice, obviously not too pleased to be confessing such things to you. “All I can think of is certain images of you, even before this. I tried my best to edit my own code when things got too confusing, but it got harder and harder every time, reappearing every time I see you. Now no matter what I do I can’t get rid of it.” He growls out the last part, frustrated beyond belief. “What have you done to me, superstar?”
All you can do for a few moments is stare up at him as the weight of his words sink in. He asked a very valid question, what did you do to him? You basically corrupted his programming merely by existing!
“Freddy, I am so sorry. I swear to you I did not mean to cause any of this.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really! Do you seriously think I somehow purposefully did this to you?!”
Freddy falls silent for a moment, looking down at the floor between the two of you. “I did think so, yes.”
You let out a laugh of disbelief and he looks back up at you with curious eyes. You let your head fall back against the wall you were still trapped against. “You realize how insane this is right?”
Freddy lets out a huff, leaning in closer. “You’re the one who made me like this superstar, whether you meant to or not.” His eyes flickered to your lips and you felt like you were going to die right then and there. A frustrated groan leaves him, finally pushing himself off of you and taking a step away. “The last measure I can take is to isolate myself completely until these feelings pass.”
You stay leaning up against the wall, eyes trailing up and down his large frame. If he isolates himself he wouldn’t be able to go through with his daily duties, it could get him in trouble, even decommissioned.
“It isn’t the last measure.” You murmur out, catching his attention.
“... What are you implying?” He cautiously asks.
You push yourself off the wall, taking a step towards him as your face feels warmer than ever before. “I’m implying,” You begin, taking his hand into yours. “I-I can help you. Since you’ve been honest with me, I’ll be honest with you. I have had desires for you since the day we met, both romantic and sexual. Since I am the one who caused this mess for you then I will fix it.”
Freddy stares at your linked hands, his brows knitting together. “Superstar… I…” He trails off before letting out a low growl that causes goose bumps to rise. “You do not need to do this. I am worried for your safety.” Despite his words he grabs onto your waist with his free hand and pulls you closer to him. “I do not wish to harm you.”
Warmth rushes to your cheeks as you are brought up against him, mustering a smile of reassurance. “Hey, you warned me, didn’t you? If I end up getting hurt somehow, it’ll be my fault, not yours. I’m coming into this knowing what is in store for me.” You untangle your hand with his to place it against his jaw, watching with interest as he immediately leaned into your touch. “Rut or not, I know you. I don't think you could ever seriously injure me even if you wanted to. Let me help you.”
Freddy’s face softens at your words, the hand on your waist tightens. “Are you sure…?” He asks with hesitation in his tone.
“I’m sure Freddy. But… How are we going to do this, because erm, as far as I know you’re pretty much a ken doll.” You glance down and he tilts his head to the side.
“Ken doll…?” He repeats quizzically.
“Yeah, like, not having a penis.” Your face flushes, looking off to the side as he leans in to you, his muzzle right next to your ear.
“If you must know, superstar. I am very well endowed.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh… I um, I see.” You muster out, feeling so taken aback in the moment. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him.
“Does this change anything?” He questions you in a tone dripping with yearning. He brings his hand up to your face, placing a gentle finger underneath your chin and tilting your head up towards him. “You must tell me now, I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”
You feel your heart skip a beat from the gentle touch, the bear you fell in love with shining through. You stare up at him now, eyes searching his own. It was clear your silence felt like eternity to him, his grip tightening on your waist to the point it almost hurt. You didn’t allow yourself to over think, finally giving him a firm nod.
“Nothing has changed. I want you.”
Freddy’s blue optics darken at your words, it appeared that was all you needed to say. He didn’t say anything else, lifting your body up with his powerful arms to push you back up against the wall.
His muzzle clashes against your lips with greed, It was cold from his alloy but you can feel every ounce of hunger from him through the gesture. Your arms fall around his neck, squeezing your eyes closed as you return the kiss with matched desire. You were already dizzy by the entire thing, feeling the air from your lungs escape you until he finally pulls away to bury his face in your neck while letting out a guttural growl.
“You smell so good my star.” Freddy rumbles, using his mouth to nip at the skin that causes small whimpers to leave your lips due to how sensitive you are. “Gods, and you sound so good too. I have been wanting you for so long.” He presses his hips firmly against your clothed sex, the feeling makes you drip with arousal.
“Freddy.” You whine out, starting to helplessly grind up against him. “M-me too. So, so long. I need you.”
“And you have me.” He murmurs possessively, one of his hands sliding down to your bottom and giving a firm squeeze. He swiftly runs his claw through the buttons of your shirt, popping each one off the material to expose your bare chest.
He leans back to look down at you, a low groan leaving him just from the mere sight of you. “Pretty girl.” Freddy rolls his hips up against yours, squeezing his eyes tight from the feeling it provided.
You take his clear sensitivity to your advantage, rubbing into him hard and fast as moans tumble out past your mouth. “Oh my sweet star.” He groans, keeping you held up with one hand as the other goes in between your legs to press the palm of his hand up against your sex.
You squirm in place as the feelings of pleasure crash down onto you, everything is going so fast and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He pushes up into your wet heat with a low growl, peering down at you with predatory optics.
“I am going to make you mine.” He snarls, bearing his teeth before ripping the front of your leggings and underwear with his claws in one go. You would yell at him for ruining your clothes if it wasn’t for his large knuckle pressing down onto your clit. You let out a sharp gasp as he moves against your engorged nub before plunging a finger deep inside of you with no warning.
Your head hits hard against the wall behind you, his finger was so big, even just that filled you up. He wiggled it back and forth, letting out a small grunt. “You are soaking wet superstar, no wonder your scent affects me so heavily.” He marvels in a gruff tone, beginning to slip his finger in and out of you at a brisk pace.
“Oh, oh fuck Freddy. God, please.” Your mouth was agape, panting out while you flutter around the intrusion, your mind was already going blank and it only gets worse when he shoves a second finger into your hole.
He leans down to bite at the neck as if he was claiming his prize, making you buck up against him as he sets a brutal pace. He pushes you harder up against the wall and you swear you see stars.
“I can’t hold back anymore superstar. I must take you now.” He warns in a low tone.
Your nails dig into the paint of his metal, feeling your thighs tremble from his words. “Take me, please take me.” You babble, scratching at his surface with eyes full of carnal desire. “I need it so badly.”
As soon as you give him full consent he pulls his fingers out, keeping you in place against the wall while he shuffles a little away from you. Your eyes trail down to his pelvic plate with bated breath, feeling eager to see what was underneath. You watch as it slides open and the large, girthy shaft emerges makes you audibly gasp. Never have you seen something such as this, it didn’t even look human, covered in soft silicone skin that looked ever so tantalizing.
“I cannot guarantee you this will not be a bit painful.” His words rumble out of him in a deep guttural pitch.
“I can handle a little pain.” You murmur out, goggling at the exotic cock right in front of you, noticing the knot at the base that makes your heart sink.
“I know you can, my superstar.” Freddy grabs the base, pumping it before lining it up to your dripping hole, he lets out a low groan as he pushes the engorged head inside of you. “My gods.” He squeezed his eyes closed once again, it was clear he was trying his best to take it slow for you as he pushed into you.
Your back arches as the large shaft stretches you out thoroughly, letting out a strangled cry from the burning sensation deep inside of you. “Oh- oh my god, you’re so fucking big.” You look down, the sight of his cock making its way inside of you made you feel like you were going to faint.
“Bear with it.” He grunts, leaning in till your foreheads touch. “You can do it, you can take it.” The hand once on his member went down to your clit, rubbing at it in an attempt to outweigh the pain with pleasure.
You let out whimpers, getting completely lost in the moment. You buck your hips, causing his cock to push in even deeper and making you both let out a gasp. He was all the way inside you now, his pronounced head pushing up against your cervix almost painfully.
Your legs kick up into the air instinctively as he continues to stimulate your sensitive nub, clenching tight around him and making him let out a long sigh of pleasure.
“Y-you can go. Please go, give me your all.” You don’t even recognize yourself as you speak, finally realizing you needed this just as much as he did.
Freddy doesn’t say a word, grabbing onto your waist with a bruising grip while drawing himself out almost all the way before slamming right back into your tight heat. Your hole gives and stretches under the assault, a loud crying ripping through your throat as he begins to pump in and out of you at a barbaric speed.
You feel your body slide up against the wall only to be pulled right back down onto his cock, the intense pounding making your eyes roll to the back of your head, only able to moan out in ecstasy as his animalistic grunts mix in.
“Take it all superstar, offer yourself to me completely. Become mine.” He huffs out in this possessive tone that makes you shiver.
“I’m yours, I’m all yours!” You gasp out, trying to adjust to the cock ramming in and out of you with no remorse. “Oh, oh god, you-you’re going to make me cum!”
“Already?” He growls, letting out a deep chuckle. “Let go for me starlight, let me see you come undone.”
That’s all you needed to hear, your wet walls clamping hard around him as you get thrown into a hard climax, practically screaming as he fucks you through it. He lets out a long groan as you convulse around him, your mind going completely blank as you continue to cry out.
“Good girl.” Freddy praises through grunts, thrusting into you with unrestrained movements that are making you lose your mind. “Feel so good wrapped around me, so tight.”
He completely pulls out of you, leaving you confused before he grabs you with his rough hands and walks over to the plush red couch in his green room. He throws you on it, fisting his cock while giving you a dangerous look.
“Hands and knees.” He orders and with the tone he used it was clear there was no room for hesitation.
You scramble into position, keeping your lower half high in the air as if you were presenting to him. “Please give me more.” You whine, swaying your hips from side to side.
Freddy lets out a deep groan just from the sight of you. You feel the cushion dip as he gets into position, one knee on the couch with his other foot planted on the ground.
“Oh I’m going to give it to you alright.” He gruffs, grabbing a hold of each side of your hips before shoving himself right back into your tight hole. You don’t even get a split second to adjust, continuing that relentless pace he set before. The new angle does wonders for you, shouting out in pleasure and pain from the way he hit your cervix.
Every thrust sends your body lurching forward, his strong grip on you was the only reason you weren’t on the other side of the couch by now. You try to lift your upper half to look back at him but he places a hand on your back and shoves you right down onto the cushions.
“Stay down.” He snarls riotously, digging the claws on your hip into your skin.
You comply, clawing at the couch underneath you as you helplessly cry out. You can can't even really hear yourself, the sound of your heart hammering in your ears as you feel your walls open up for him more and more, the pleasure piling on.
“Who do you belong to, superstar?” You barely hear his question but as soon as it registers you don’t think twice.
“You! I belong to you!” You buck back against him, hungry for more. You feel yourself lost in the sensation, focused on him and how good he was making you feel. The drag of his big textured cock along your walls was driving you to the brink of insanity.
“Let me mark you superstar. I want to claim you as my own. Be mine and only mine.” His hand goes into your hair, tugging it upwards to make your back arch while savagely grunting with each thrust. He leans down, covering your body with his own as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.
You were willing to do anything to please him, tears welling up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as you babble out. “Yes! I’ll be y-yours. Mark me!”
As soon as you give the go ahead his sharp fangs sink into the junction of your neck, making you weep out in both pain and pleasure. You feel him break skin, a small stream of warmth trickling down your neck.
After a few moments he lets go, keeping himself pressed up against your back as he humps into your twitching tunnel. “All mine, my mate.” He nuzzles into your neck and you relish in his affection. “You’re my good girl, do you have any idea how long I have waited to claim my prize?”
You can’t even muster the strength to answer him as lewd noises tumble out of your mouth, letting out a yelp as his cock hits the perfect spot. “Fuck, oh, oh yes Freddy, r-right there!”
Once again you are pushed into a hard climax, squeezing down onto his massive cock as your own juices run down your thighs. “Oh, oh my god!” He lets go of your hair and you fall down onto the cushions, weakly clawing at the fabric as you feel your energy getting zapped from you. He didn’t slow down, ruthlessly slamming into you repeatedly.
“Take it.” He speaks close to your ear, using your slick juices to pave the way for more wild, frenzied thrusts. “You are so beautiful like this.”
You writhe underneath him, not being able to keep up with the massive shaft pumping into your quivering core. Before you know it he pulls out once again to flip you onto your back, grabbing onto your legs and pushing them high into the air towards your body before slamming right back in. The new angle made you scream out in ecstasy, staring up at him with wide, tear filled eyes.
You enjoyed this position, being able to see the giant bear in full view as he violently fucks your tight cunt raw. Your face contorted in pleasure, calling out his name over and over again like a mantra. His paw goes back to your clit, only needing to give the slightest of friction before you cum again, your back arching off the couch as you go through the motions of a hard climax.
“That’s a good girl. Look at you, my sweet little prey. I’m going to breed you so good.”
Something about him saying that to you made you realize the true power he had over you, something you have never let anyone else have.
“Oh, oh fuck, please F-Freddy, please!”
Freddy grunts out savagely, his giant paw enclosing around your neck as he leans in closer, carnal lust evident in his blue eyes. “Please what superstar, what do you want?”
You feel your face flush from his question, panting out harshly as you feel his member twitch inside of you. His thrusts became more shallow, pounding in so deep you feel shock waves pulsing through your much smaller body.
“P-please, please breed me!” You feel embarrassed from your own words, wanting to look away but keeping your hazy eyes full of tears trained on his own. “I-I need it, I need you to cum inside of me.”
Your pleading appeared to only make him more aggressive, his clawed hand tightening around your neck to restrict your breathing.
“Superstar,” He struggled to get out what he needed to say in between each feral grunt that came from deep within. “You belong to me until the end of time. My mate… Mine!” He roars out the last word, shoving himself deep inside of you and pushing his knot into your hole.
You let out a soundless cry, body going limp as you feel thick ropes of his seed coating your insides. Tears slip down your cheek, enjoying the burning pain from the stretch of his knot as you rasp out breaths. “Oh, oh Freddy.” You gasp, trying your best to wrap your head around all that had just happened between the two of you.
“My sweet superstar.” He bellows, looking down at you with pure affection. His large arms wrap around your waist carefully, picking you up into a tight embrace. His hands rub up and down your shaking body, pressing his muzzle against your hair. “You did so wonderfully, took it all so well.”
You keep your head buried in his neck, panting out against metal as you feel a deep sense of comfort from his affectionate words. “F-Freddy,” You manage to murmur out despite how empty your head felt at the moment. “I love you… I love you so much.”
Freddy’s caresses pause for just a moment, making you feel as though you shouldn’t have said that to him. Just as you were about to back track he held you even tighter.
“You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say those words to me. I love you too. If I had a heart, it is yours to possess.”
Tears well up in your eyes from his words, nuzzling into him happily. You stay there for a moment, trying your best to regain your composure but it seems almost impossible.
You finally lean back, wincing from the throbbing knot embedded inside of you. “A-are you um, are you feeling better now?” You ask shyly, looking off to the side.
Freddy lets out a deep hum, his large hand falling onto your cheek and pushing your face back up towards his. “Yes, much better. All thanks to my sweet star.” He leans down to press his mouth against your forehead. “It’ll come back eventually, but I am not worried about it now with you by my side.”
He brings you closer, tucking your head underneath his chin as he rocks back and forth to soothe you. “Are you alright? I am sorry for how rough I was with you, I truly could not hold back.”
“‘M alright.” You murmur, having a hard time stringing words and thoughts together. “It hurt a bit but… I liked it a lot.”
“I’m glad to hear it, I liked it too. Although I did imagine our first time together to be a bit… Sweeter. Yet I am still content knowing you are mine now.” He trails his hand up your shoulder and to your neck, gently pressing down onto the mark he gave you earlier. “You do understand the meaning behind this, right superstar? We are bonded now, never will I do this with another.”
You feel your face get warm, moving back to stare up at him. “Neither will I.” You give him a weak smile, placing your hand over his and letting out a shaky sigh.
He leans in, brushing his muzzle against your lips affectionately, massaging at your neck with his large fingers. “I want you more than any physical pleasure could ever give me… Looks like I’ll have to properly court you now.”
You let out a breathless laugh, looking down at where you are locked together. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”
“Perhaps… But I promise you next time will be a lot more gentle, alright?”
“Gentle or not, I don’t care. I’m just g-glad we have this now. Although it’s hard to believe me of all the people in the world made you feel this way. I’m honored honestly, but I also felt a little bad… You seemed so distressed earlier.”
“There is no need to feel bad my star.” He says affectionately, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind your ear before continuing. “You eased my pain in a way no one else could. It is you who made everything worthwhile.” His voice tapers off into a muffled sigh, glancing away from you with a worried look.
“I’m sorry… If I scared you earlier. I was just so confused, and angry. It was so much more manageable at the start but when you were the only thing on my mind, it was frustrating.”
Now it was your turn to grab his face to have him look back at you. “To tell you the truth, it was a little scary. But it was also pretty hot.” Freddy’s eyes widen from your confession and you let out a laugh. “You’re always so sweet and caring, I never pegged you to be a dominant kinda bear in this way.”
“I have plenty of tricks up my sleeves.” He chuckles deeply, leaning in to pepper kisses along your face. “If I had sleeves of course.” Freddy nuzzles into your hair and you soak up his affection like a cat bathing in the sun. “Now… How sore are you?” He uses his hand to tilt your chin up for your eyes to meet.
You get lost in the glowing blue optics, your walls twitching around the shaft stuffed deep inside of you. “Pretty sore, I can feel some bruises forming and I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk straight but other than that I am very satisfied. I think this will be all that I’m thinking about over the weekend.”
Freddy huffs out a small laugh. “Oh trust me superstar, we will have plenty of more times like this to think about. Soon all you’ll be able to think of is me using this sweet little body of yours.” You let out a squeak from his words, hiding your face in your hands as your cheeks become a bright red. “Awe, I’m sorry, did I make you shy?”
“W-what do you think?” You murmur out into your hands, peeking up at him through your fingers to see the amused look on his face. You feel even more embarrassed, why did he have to be so suave?! You shift in place, letting out a small gasp from the feeling of him still deep inside of you.
“Um… How long do you think this is going to last?” You ask, gesturing towards where the two of you are connected.
“That is a very good question, superstar. I sadly do not know, this is the first time I’ve ever done this with someone.” His eyes lock down to the area, one of his hands running up your thigh. “Although you do look quite beautiful like this, perhaps I should make you stay here forever?”
You let out a giggle, rolling your eyes. “That will get both you and me into some pretty big trouble. But… It does feel really good i-inside of me.” You confess.
“Does it now? Because I swear I am in heaven.” He lets out a low hum, his finger dragging over your hip bone and causing you to shudder. He falls silent for a moment, playing with the hem of the shirt he ripped open. “Your poor clothes, I apologize, I promise once we are free I will find you a fresh pair to change into.”
You shrug your shoulders, looking down at yourself. You looked like a mess yet you didn’t mind it. “It’s alright, I’ve got plenty of these shirts and plenty of leggings. The only thing I want right now is you.”
“Then you shall have me my sweet star, till the end of time.” He leans in, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips that makes you melt. “We’ll get you something proper to eat and drink after this too, you have zapped a lot of your energy.”
All you can do is stare up at him with pure admiration, he was so caring, you can’t help but feel like he was made for you and no one else. You begin to feel a little emotional, tears building up and threatening to spill. He notices this quickly, a look of concern in his eyes but you are quick to express your feelings, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.
“Freddy, I love you, I really do.”
Freddy’s eyes soften, pressing his muzzle up against your forehead as his arms wrap around your waist.
“Oh my sweet star… I truly don’t think I could ever get used to hearing you say such a thing to me. I love you too, more than I could ever express.”
Those three words held such a deep meaning, you agreed with him, you will never get used to this. Just look at you, a human girl now officially in a relationship with a giant animatronic bear. You have so many questions about this whole situation, so much to explore with him, but you can do that later.
“You know…” You begin, letting out a brief chuckle. “This is quite the scandal you got yourself into Mr. Fazbear. We have to be careful, okay? We can’t let anyone find out.”
Freddy nods his head, moving his hand to lightly trace your cheek. “You are right, we will have to be discreet and take many precautions. I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“To keep me safe?” You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. He was so selfless, such a sweet bear. “Don’t forget about yourself. The worst thing for me is going to jail, but I’d stay there a lifetime if that means you can continue on. Just please remember the risk, okay?”
“I am willing to take this risk if it means I can stay by your side.” His claw traces over the curves of your lips, his eyes fixated on them with a fascinated look. “My beautiful girl… I will hold onto every moment of this night.”
He leans in to press his cold muzzle up against your warm lips. A shiver runs down your spine, letting out a happy, tired sigh through the kiss. Once you pull apart he lays his forehead on yours, a hand running up and down your back soothingly.
“As long as we are together, nothing can truly hurt us.” Freddy's voice is confident like everything else about him.
You were more sure than ever going into this. The direction of where this relationship was heading only filled you with a sense of excitement, you still can’t tell whether this is a dream or not. You lean into him, letting your eyes fall closed as you feel completely relaxed for the first time in a long while.
You were his and he was yours, you wouldn't have it any other way.
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ddejavvu · 2 years
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Domestic Bliss - Eddie Munson x Reader
WC: 2.2K / navi / preview / request
Summary: Eddie keeps you company during your nightly skincare routine, and it leads to the most domestically intimate moment that you've ever shared with him.
Contents/Warnings: eddie calls reader 'princess' once, otherwise no other mentions of possible gender. tooth-rotting fluff, domestic!eddie and his lovesick smile <333
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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You’re filling the sink with warm water when Eddie peers into the bathroom, surveying the mass of products on the counter.
“Woah,” He lets out a breathy chuckle, “What are those?”
“Skincare products.” You pluck your washcloth from the sink, “I’m washing my face.”
You punctuate your sentence by pressing the dripping washcloth to your face, water running down your forearms. It’s messy, but it works, and your face is properly wet for the soap you need to use.
Eddie’s intrigued, by what you’re not sure, but he slips behind you and sits on the lid of the toilet. He watches you as you pump a small dollop of soap into your hand, scrunching your eyes shut before lathering it over your face. You can’t see, your soap dripping slightly into your eyes from how messy the application process was, but you don’t miss much, just more staring from Eddie.
You scrub your nails down your skin, the rough surface of the washcloth not having cleared away enough gunk from the day. It hurts, and you wince slightly as the slashes over your face sting.
You jolt as, from the silence beside you, a soft, high-pitched, ‘boop’ is let out right beside your ear. Eddie is evidently standing behind you, reaching around your front to tap a finger against your sudsy nose. When you rear back out of shock you run into his chest, broad and warm as the soap on your face chills you.
“You scared me,” You breathe, laughing shakily, “You just came out of nowhere.”
“Well if you didn’t get so much soap in your eyes,” Eddie grumbles, dipping a thumb into the water and brushing bubbles away from your lashes, “Maybe you’d be able to see.”
As you’re washing the soap off, once again soaking the counter and your sleeves, he holds something up beside you, “What’s this?”
You can’t see what it is yet, your eyes and mouth dangerously close to getting soap in them. So you stay silent, holding up a single finger.
“‘Looks like a… potion or something,” He muses, and when you finally clear the soap from your face you turn to see him holding up one of your moisturizers. Admittedly, the bottle is oddly-shaped and intricately designed, and it would be something straight out of a fantasy world if it wasn’t filled with lotion.
You giggle softly at his naivety, applying your toner, “Eddie, it’s moisturizer.”
He raises an eyebrow, “And.. what is that?”
“It’s in the name…” Your brows dip in concern, “It.. moisturizes you?”
“Right.” He mutters, gnawing on his lower lip as he looks over the bottle once more, flipping it back and forth in his hands. “Can I have this?” He holds up the bottle, “Not the shit inside. Just, like, the bottle? When you’re done with it?”
You pluck it out of his hands, throwing away the cotton pad that you’d soaked in toner. You dip your finger into the bottle and he watches intently as it comes back up smeared with white lotion, slightly translucent, that you spread over your face. 
“I guess,” You shrug, spreading the cream around your face, “I don’t think I’ll run out of it any time soon, but you can have the bottle when I do.
“Thanks, babe.” Eddie grins at you, and even though your eyes are still stinging slightly from the soap, you stare intently at him, drinking in his giddiness.
You tap a dot of the moisturizer on your nose, a dot on your forehead, one for each cheek, and finally your chin. Part of one of the cheek splotches smears towards your nose as you apply it, sloppy coverage from how slippery your hands are. 
It makes Eddie snort amusedly, “That kinda looks like-”
“I know what it looks like, Eddie!” You cut him off, desperately trying to avoid his dirty mind. He loves getting you flustered, it’s one of his favorite things, and tonight is no different.
His grin grows, watching you furiously spread the lotion over your face, desperate to clear away any of the visible substance. He stays silent to let you have a little bit of peace, observing you fondly, but when it’s fully rubbed in he pipes back up.
“What’s that?” He cocks his head to the side, his hair bouncing slightly as he does so. You turn the label on the jar around to face him, offering a simple ‘Eye Cream’ as his explanation.
“Eye cream…” Eddie’s nose wrinkles in confusion and slight apprehension, “For, like.. In your eyes?”
“No!” You drag the word out with a giggle, swatting at his hand that’s fiddling with your other beauty products. He’s acting like a kid in a toy shop, holding everything and inspecting it to satiate his curiosity.
“It goes under your eye.” You explain, swiping a dollop of the cream out of the jar and smearing it under both of your eyes, “It helps with dark circles, you just rub it in and-”
Eddie stands abruptly, his hands reaching for your wrists and pulling your hands away from your face. You watch him silently, an eyebrow raised in confusion, but your questions are answered almost immediately.
Eddie’s hands come up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs landing just under your eyes. He slowly starts working the cream into your skin, his tongue poking out in a display of the intense concentration he’s applying to the task at hand. His thumbs are warm against your skin, gentle in their soothing strokes, and you’re certain he’s taking much longer than he needs to. His fingers grow sticky, no longer slick with cream. He seems to realize this, but neither of you want to relinquish the contact, so he stays. 
He cups your cheeks so tenderly you can feel the love radiating from him. It’s evident in his eyes, sparkling with wonder. In the soft, lovesick smile on his face that grows the longer his eyes bore into yours. In the warmth radiating through your body the longer he leaves his hands on your cheeks. 
You’re sure you’ve never felt more loved. He tells you he loves you every day, almost obsessively. When you leave, when you’re getting dressed in the morning, when you’re making him lunch, when you close your eyes at the end of the night. He shows you he loves you, when he wraps you up in his jacket on a chilly day, when he carries your bags for you, when he makes you dinner (read: tries to make you dinner). You always feel loved, but this is different; it’s suffocating, intimate. 
Emotions are oozing from you, sticky sweet as they coat the two of you. You’re sure your eyes are heart-shaped, and the way that Eddie’s looking at you produces the same effect. The contentment that fills your chest, overflowing and spilling out of you while he holds your face, makes you surer than ever that you want to spend the rest of your life with Eddie. You’re in love, helplessly, hopelessly in love, and you know Eddie is too.
You voice your thoughts, even though you weren’t sure there were any words you could use to convey their true depths, “I love you, Eddie.”
“‘Love you too, princess. So fuckin’ much,” He breathes, keeping his voice low and soft so as not to dissolve the intimacy you’re blanketed in, “That.. that doesn’t even cover it. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, more than anyone has ever loved anyone else.”
The uncharacteristic romantic monologue from him has your heart impossibly swelling, fit to burst in your chest and beating out of your ribcage. 
“I know, Eddie.” You nod, his hands never slipping from your cheeks, “I know, I can feel it. And I feel the same way. You’re.. You’re my everything.”
He lets out a shaky sigh, a hushed, ‘Baby,’ slipping from his lips before he brings you into his chest. Only one of his hands abandons your face, the other still firmly in place as he wraps the first around your waist. 
Your eyes drift shut naturally as you nuzzle your free cheek into his chest. The worn material of his hellfire shirt offers the perfect cushion over his chest as you relax into his embrace. It’s silence, it’s serenity, it’s love. He sways you gently back and forth in the cramped bathroom, all concern for the rest of your routine gone as he holds you. A strand or two of his messy hair dips down over his shoulders, hanging in front of your face. It doesn’t tickle you like it usually does, but you reminisce on the times it has as you melt in Eddie’s arms. 
Anytime he hovers over you, staring you down fondly, a few loose hairs always make it their business to ghost over your nose. You always chide him for it, berating him for not keeping hair ties on hand, but he claims that his mane is ‘too tough to tame’. A grin grows on your lips as you run through memories in your mind, and he feels it against his palm.
“What’cha smilin’ about, baby?” He queries, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“You.” You supply simply, peering up at him lovingly, “You make me smile.”
The fondness in his gaze is unmatched. He’s looking at you like a treasure, like a priceless gift given to him by the universe itself; a cosmic blessing. He treats you like one, too, his hands slipping to your hips and planting themselves firmly against the backs of your thighs. He scoops you off of your feet, setting you on the counter behind you beside your skincare products.
“I’m glad I make you smile.” He stands between your legs, his hands braced on the counter on either side of you, “It’s my favorite thing to see.”
“You’re my favorite thing to see.” You gloat giddily, love-drunk and mushy as a result of the domestic atmosphere.
“So cheesy,” He teases, but it’s not an insult. 
Affection drips from his words, and you nod in agreement. “Jus’ for you, Eddie.”
“Good.” He tilts his head up, jutting his chin out slightly, “‘Makes me feel special.”
“You are,” You barely get the words out before he’s leaning forwards, crowding you against the mirror behind you, “You’re the most special person I’ve ever-”
“Shh,” He doesn’t wait for you to finish, mumbling the words against your lips, “Kiss me.”
You do. His lips are on yours before you can even make the decision, soft and warm and plump. Your tongue juts out to lave slowly over the lower one, but no one makes any advances past that. You’re content where you are, kissing Eddie in the little bathroom adjacent to your shared bedroom. It’s your space, and Eddie is your love.
When he breaks away it’s to tilt his head forwards, resting his forehead against yours. You gaze dreamily into his eyes, even though it looks like he only has one with how close he is. You giggle softly at the image, your one-eyed boyfriend, and he’s laughing at you too, the silliness of the image adding to the intimacy of the moment.
“Okay,” He leaves one last firm kiss against your lips, slowly pulling away and looking down at the mess of products on the counter, “Which one next?”
“That one.” You point to your lip serum, “Goes on my lips. ‘S just a gloss, you can squeeze it on.”
He uncaps the tube of paste, squeezing experimentally and finding that it’s mostly empty. He finds a pocket of product near the bottom, working it up to the spout and holding it out in front of your face.
“Pucker up, baby.” He grins cheekily. You over-accentuate the gesture, giving him plenty of material to work with. He can’t help himself, leaning in to peck your lips one last time before putting the product on.  You giggle as he smears the gloss messily over your lips, using the rounded tip of the applicator to smooth it evenly over the skin there.
“Okay, rub ‘em together.” He commands, screwing the cap back on, “Anything else?”
You shake your head, too busy rubbing in the gloss on your lips to answer. He smiles proudly, taking the wet washcloth and squeezing it dry before draining the sink. He hastily pushes all of your products to the side of the counter, his version of ‘cleaning up’, and then stands expectantly in front of you.
“Ready?” He means for bed, the day long gone. You nod eagerly, reaching for him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you in with open arms, one under your butt and one around your back as you curl your legs around his waist. You’re clinging to him like a little koala, your face already nestled into his neck, lips staining his skin with sticky gloss. Nevertheless, it spreads a grin over his cheeks.
“Come on,” He starts for the door, flicking the light off in the bathroom as you exit and clutching you tighter against his chest, “Let’s go to sleep, baby.”
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tags: @shenevertricks1831 @nadixq
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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grandlinedreams · 7 months
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Ace really wants to kiss you. 
He’s wanted to for a while today, but he swears that there are forces at work against him – every time he manages to find you, you’re busy. First it was finishing up a report (you’re more diligent about those, he’ll be the first to admit that), then it was helping in the kitchen, then helping Marco with something – never staying still for too long, flitting from one task to the next. Normally Ace admires how willing you are to lend a hand to anyone who needs it – but right now he needs you, and you’re ignoring him. (Not really, but playing the victim makes him feel a little better.)
So he settles for sulking until he drifts into one of his many afternoon naps, figuring that if nothing else, you’ll come find him when you’re (finally) not busy. He’s right, because when he finally rouses, his head is in your lap and one of your hands is busy stroking through his hair, the other propping open a book for you to read. 
Noticing his movement, you glance down at him. “Finally awake?”
“Kind of,” he yawns. “Ready to stop ignoring me?”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics. “I have not been ignoring you, you just have horrible timing to want attention from me.” 
Ace stares back, cheeks puffing in defiance. “Same thing.” He reaches up, tugging at a stray lock of hair. “Don’t you love me?” 
Despite his tone, there’s an undercurrent of uncertainty that longs for reassurance – that you aren’t tired of him, that he won’t push his limits too far and push you away.
Your expression softens. “Of course I do,” you answer, sending his heart stuttering in his chest. It’s moments like these that make him wonder if he really deserves you, with the way you look at him – like he alone hung the stars for you. “What did you need earlier? Must’ve been important.”
You’re teasing him – if it’d been of real, true importance, he’d have made sure that you were told, regardless of company or current task. But it’s still important, and he grins, tugging at your hair again. “Oh yeah, super important.”
You huff a soft laugh, setting your book aside. “Care to tell me now?”
“Nah.” His tone is lower, eyes flicking to the soft plush of your lips as he rolls over and pushes up, leaning so that you’re the one forced to lean back until you’re beneath him. “I’d rather show you.” 
You look so pretty like this, cheeks pink as you stare up at him, your own gaze flicking to his lips and back. “Don’t stare at me like that,” you protest, and he snickers.
“I’m not staring, I’m admiring,” he says, lowering himself so that he’s just a hair’s breadth from your face with his own, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “There’s a difference, you know.”
This time you do roll your eyes, the action ruined by the traitorous darkening of your cheeks and it sends his heartbeat stuttering in his chest before he remembers exactly what he’s been wanting to do for the better part of the day. He leans down as your head tips up expectantly, eyes sliding shut –
Only for your forehead to collide roughly with his as there’s the sharp rap of knuckles on the door, followed by a call of your name. Hand now clapped to your forehead, you fight to keep your voice from sounding pained. “Yeah?”
“When you’ve got a minute, Pops wants to talk to you, yoi.” 
“Got it,” you answer, “be out in a minute.”
If he weren’t also trying to nurse the blow to his forehead, Ace would tell Marco what to relay to Pops in lieu of your presence – but he keeps his mouth shut and listens to footsteps fade before he lowers his hand from his forehead and watches you do the same. 
“How bad is it?” you ask, and his eyes flick to survey the damage. 
“You might have a bruise,” he tells you as he reaches to rub at the red mark gently. “Is mine the same?” You nod, and he sighs. “Gonna have to come up with an excuse for it.” He hesitates, then moves to get off of you. “Guess you’ve gotta go.”
“Hold it.” You reach up, hand snagging at the back of his neck to pull him back down. “You were going to show me what you wanted earlier.”
“But Pops–”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Ace, do you want to kiss me or not?” He does, very much so – and when he nods, you raise an eyebrow in prompting. “Well?”
He grins, eyes wildfire bright. “As you wish.”
And after a day full of distractions, Ace finally gets to kiss you.
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heich0e · 7 months
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tw religious imagery/sacrilege + mentions of blood
priest!geto who's approached by a member of his congregation, a promising, devout young man who's missed mass now for three weeks in a row, but reappears at the church one night asking to be blessed looking like a shell of the person suguru knows him to be.
"yuuta, are you well?" he asks, a comforting hand coming to rest on the younger man's trembling shoulder.
the boy—because that's what he is really, with his toes barely past the periphery of adulthood—hangs his head, his breathing laboured like he can't quite draw in a full breath. when he finally meets his priest's gaze, his eyes are hollow, and suguru sees for the first time how he appears to be drained.
yuuta tells him everything.
a demon. a succubus that came to him in the night. he hasn't slept in weeks, haunted by the memory and yearning for the next time it will appear. he's barely in his right mind as he recounts it, but suguru listens faithfully. blesses him once his story is done. promises to help him.
he sends yuuta away with that promise, and then he begins his preparations.
"well," your voice is smooth and sweet like honeyed wine as you appear before his eyes. he didn't even blink, but suddenly you're there. "you're not yuuta."
suguru smiles, gently marking the page in his book and closing it in his hand. "i'm not."
"oh," you coo—with what sounds like excitement in your tone—your eyes widening as you take him in. "a priest!"
suguru runs his hand along the front of his black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. the roman collar at the base of his throat is surely what's given him away.
your eyes flicker around you, turning slightly to survey the scene. on the floor of the church basement, geto had carefully drawn the sigils needed to summon you—the ritual he'd unearthed in an old religious text in his research. yuuta's blood had been the final element—the part of him that tethered the boy to you—that would help to make the call.
"a summoning ritual," you muse, perhaps even a little impressed, as your eyes flicker along the sigils. your gaze slides over to meet his once more. "how archaic."
"but effective," suguru notes, his tone light and pleasant, and you smile a little—though there's no warmth in it.
by your feet, beside the train of the red tendrils that cloak you—though suguru can't quite be sure whether they're silk or smoke or something different altogether—a small chalice of yuuta's blood rests. you crouch down, dipping the very tip of your finger into the cup until it's coated in scarlet. you lift the digit to your lips, licking it away with your tongue. you maintain eye contact with the priest on the other side of the room all the while.
you hum around the finger caught between your lips. "this is my yuuta's blood."
"it is," suguru agrees.
"i thought he'd be here," you pout at him, "you tricked me."
the priest laughs a little at your expression, and the sound seems to intrigue you. you lick your lips.
"so,"—you inch a little closer to the edge of the circle that binds you—"what can i do for you father?"
"you've been causing a lot of problems for poor okkotsu," suguru notes, but his tone is still surprisingly amiable.
"but he's so much fun to play with," you reply, sighing in contentment as though you reflect on your time with the young man fondly.
suguru steps up to the edge of the summoning circle as well, observing you quietly. your interest in him grows more evident with every passing second, the expression on your face so keen it's as if you're barely containing your desire to reach out and touch him yourself.
"you're beautiful," suguru remarks lightly, his eyes curving up into two crescents as he smiles at you.
your eyes widen, your ruby lips parting in surprise before a devious smile twists them upwards.
"that's blasphemy, you know," you tease him breathlessly, pressing as far forward as the constraints of the ritual allow.
suguru's head tilts to the side in confusion. "your very existence is proof of our Lord. your beauty is a testament to His divine creation. in what way could that ever be sacrilege?"
you blink, your smile slightly falling as suguru's own twists higher.
you inch back.
"yuuta will be so relieved to be free of your possession," suguru says, his tone warm and proud.
he takes a step forward over the line of the summoning circle and you flinch.
he shouldn't be able to do that.
he takes another step towards you.
"come," he says, his hand outstretched "let us join together in blessing."
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