#are we not allowed to enjoy what you intend to share?

[joelwindows7]

L R

O E

S 5

I P

N E

G C

W T

I Y

T O

H U

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[munsonluhvr]

ohhhh and i honestly need more professor!eddie x student!reader

imagine he’s her professor. he’s like 39 and she’s 19. and just a hot secret affair ahhh.. where she’s the one to intend this relationship first like seducing him and all and getting fucked on the desk all the time!! he sometimes has to hold her mouth shut because she’s so loud!!

SCHOOL GIRL CRUSH

a/n: thank u so much for another amazing request. I hope u like it! I loved writing this sm, im tempted to write a part two in the future.

synopsis: professor!eddie munson x student!reader. unable to resist your professor munson, you begin seducing him, making every visit to his office hours productive. lucky for you, all your efforts pay off in the end. word count - 4.7k warnings: 18+, explicit content // age gap relationship, throat fucking, p in v, cum eating, fingering, finger sucking.

Your ears are numb to the sound of your classmates engaging with Professor Munson, answering his questions eagerly to please the young and handsome teacher. You’re trapped in your own mind as you imagine Professor Munson bending you over his desk, his ungraded essays cluttered underneath your upper body. You imagine your thighs shivering and growing goosebumps as his fingertips graze your legs, hooking his pointer fingers onto your panties and pulling your undergarment down as slow as possible… 

“Are you listening, y/n?” Professor Munson asks as he leans against his long wooden desk, his legs crossed in front of him. You sit in the front row, of course, to be able to gain his attention. Your legs are outstretched in front of you and Professor Munson taps your foot with his. “Care to share what you’re day dreaming about with the rest of the class?” 

You blush, shaking your head quickly. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was listening.” You lean forward on your desk, resting your elbow on the tabletop, your hand cupping your chin. Bending at the waist, you push your chest forward, allowing Professor Munson to get a front-row view of your breasts that are supported by your bra. 

Professor Munson, or Eddie which is what he allows you to call him in his office hours, lets his eyes dip to your exposed chest but he catches himself quickly, coughing into a close fist. “I see; let’s switch to talking about the book we read last week that we didn’t get to talk about.” He says to the class.

 You sit in the small classroom, your other classmates scattered about the room; there’s only about fifth teen of you, the classroom big enough to fit at least thirty students. Above the chalkboard is a clock that ticks rhythmically, and you watch for the next ten minutes as the class talks amongst themselves. Today was the day you’d go for the kill, feeling as if you and Professor Munson were playing a cat and mouse game since the beginning of the semester. 

Professor Munson was young, probably in his mid to late thirties, and incredibly attractive. Though he was physical attractive, an angelic face with soft features that combine to create a beautiful face, Professor Munson also had a ‘swagger’ about himself, a confidence that you could sense from a mile away. He never dressed, nor acted, like any of your other professors, he wore black ripped jeans, various metal band t-shirts and utilized an informal teaching style.  Nonetheless you enjoyed Professor Munson’s class, though you had to admit, you had an agenda. You wanted to fuck him. 

It all started in the beginning of the semester when you first walked into the classroom. You were automatically enamored by Eddie, easily charmed by his charisma and good looks. It was then and there where you began developing a plan, each week bringing you a step closer to today. 

Over the first two months of the semester, you had frequented his office hours, finding that even though the other girls in the class giggled about how cute he was, nobody went to his office hours leaving you hours to occupy his time. Professor Munson welcomed it happily: at first he quizzed you about the class readings, forcing you to engage with the conversations that happened during class. Though as the weeks went on, your meetings became more personal, and he started to ask you about your background, where you’re from, what your family is like. You were able to get some answers out of Eddie as well; it was fair game after all.

For a while you weren’t able to figure out if Eddie was understanding your motives, or if he found you as attractive as you found him. If he did, he kept it well hidden as a university Professor should. However, the last few meetings you had gave you no doubt in your mind that now was the time to try, to attempt to discover uncharted territory of what is Eddie’s body.  

Two weeks ago, you had visited office hours in hopes of getting your midterm essay edited with suggestions from Eddie; why not try to improve your grade while trying to get fucked? You were planning on making it a quick visit, meant to leave Eddie with dirty thoughts about you. You had worn your shortest skirt, barely covering the paisley patterned panties you wore, a long-sleeved t-shirt with the three buttons at the top completely unbuttoned. With ease, and all the casualty in the world, you brought your paper, printed and paperclipped together, to Eddie’s office, coming around the side of his desk to drop it in front of him. 

“Thank you so much for looking at my paper before the deadline, I just want to make sure I get it right,” you had said, your eyes soft and doe eyed. 

Eddie nodded slightly, his eyes drifting from your face down to your completely bare thighs. “O-Of course, Miss y/n. I’m happy to though I’m sure there’s not much to be corrected.”  You spied his hands resting on his desk, and you took the opportunity to make skin on skin contact. 

You placed your hand on top of his, feeling the coolness of his silver rings that were scattered across his long fingers. You laugh softly, the reverberation causing your breasts to jiggle on your chest. “You’re so kind to me, Professor Munson.” Your fingers curled around his soft hand, and you let it rest there, taunting Eddie to almost say ‘See? You could have all this. Come find out.’ There’s no doubt in your mind, standing in his office, all alone, barely clothed, that he wanted to jump you, lifting that tiny skirt you wore to bunch up at your midsection.

Eddie’s eyes flickered to where your hands rested together and he coughed, rolling his chair under his desk to hide his lower half. You bit your lip, hoping that a boner was what he was attempting to conceal as he pushed his bottom half under his desk. You lift your hand off of his, stepping away from the side of your desk. “I’ll come to your office hours next week to see what you thought of my research?” 

Eddie nods, his eyes no longer looking to make contact with yours. “See you then.” 

The following week you had done what you said you would, making an appearance in his office hours for the thousandth time. You had begun to grow a confidence that was reassuring, probably contributing to your delusions: a professor could never let himself fuck a student, right? Not in your world. You played innocent, pretending as if you didn’t know what you were doing as leaned across Eddie’s cluttered desk to grasp your paperclipped essay with his suggestions scribbled across it, your breasts on full display. You pretended to not know Eddie was watching as you ‘accidently’ dropped your paper on the way out of his office, making of a show of bending down to show your ass that was fitted in a lace thong – and also pretended not to understand why Eddie gasped, then coughed, as you took a moment to pick up your papers that were scattered across the entrance of his office. When you were away from his office, sauntering down the hallway, you just had to pat yourself on the back for the show you just put on. ‘Damn, I’m good at this.’ You thought to yourself, a smug smile playing across your mouth. Eddie was beginning to be just where you wanted him. 

“Well, I think we’ll leave it there for this week. Make sure to follow the syllabus and read what’s required for next week,” Professor Munson said, continuing to lean against his desk. “I’ll wait around if anyone has any questions.” 

You were slow to gather your things, tucking them all away into your backpack. You peeked around you to watch the last of your classmates filter out into the busy hallway. At last, it was just you and Eddie. 

“Professor Munson, I have a question.” You say, standing up from your seat. Oddly, you were nervous, your fingers trembling, your voice wavering. Perhaps you are afraid of rejection. 

Eddie hums, his eyes flickering to where you stand. “What can I do for you, y/n?” 

‘So much’ you think. “Well, I just feel like I’m not following the discussion in class. As if reading all the material isn’t enough to understand what we’re talking about. Perhaps I need a more hands-on approach?” You say, stepping forward to where Eddie rests against his desk. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing from in front of his chest to holding him up against the desk. “A hands-on approach?” 

You bite your lip, nodding as you step closer to him again, continuing to close the gap that exists between you and your professor. “Something more.. intimate, perhaps?” You let your backpack drop to the ground, freeing your hands. You wear a zip up hoodie that’s cropped at the waist, though underneath it your skin becomes slick with sweat and nervousness. You make a show of unzipping it slowly, the sound echoing through the classroom. Outside, students shout and chatter as they walk to their next class and for a moment you’re afraid of someone walking in. 

Eddie’s eyes watch closely as your fingers work to unzip your hoodie, then shrug it off, dropping it on top of where your backpack lays across the linoleum floor. “A-Are you referring to when I called you out for daydreaming because, of course, our minds can’t stay occupied on a single topic for a long time; studies have proven that.” Eddie says, beginning to ramble. His adams apple bobs at the front of his throat, his voice quivering. 

You smile, cocking your head to the side. Crossing your arms in front of you, you take the hem of your shirt into your fingers, lifting up and off with ease. “I’m not talking about that. I think I just need some lessons; you know?” Confidence courses through your veins, pushing the disbelief that you were stripping your clothes off for your college professor into the back of your mind. 

Eddie says nothing, his eyes watching every movement you make. His mouth gapes open slightly, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting against his desk watching, he should be stopping you, but he can’t move, his mind in a trance watching you, his student, bare yourself in front of him. 

You watch closely, analyzing Eddie’s facial expressions. You interpret his face as shocked, bewildered. You decide to take it another step further, reaching behind you with both hands to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts that you’ve been taunting him with. Left in only your skirt and tennis shoes, you step once more to Eddie, finally close enough to reach out and touch him. 

Your fingers play against his face, your fingertips beginning to trace his features. To your surprise, his hands reach out to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt. Eddie maneuvers you between his legs, bringing you almost nose to nose with him. The sensation of Eddie holding on to you makes your core begin to tighten, knowing he’s finally beginning to lean into game you’ve been playing. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Eddie says, his brown eyes watching as the pad of your thumb brushes against his bottom lip. You lean forward, letting your lips hover over his. “Oh, but you know you want to, Professor Munson. I know I want to,” You say, your nose nudging into his as you let your lips get closer and closer to his. 

Eddie swallows, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue creating a tender, painful boner to form against the tightness of his jeans. He wants to so bad, ever since you walked into office hours for the first time. So, innocent you were, though Eddie was no fool – he knew it was all an act. The way you were just barely an adult, only nineteen, his young pupil, yet you had the confidence and sexual charm of a grown woman. He had fallen right into your trap, a willing victim. 

Without hesitation, you let your lips gently intertwine with Eddie’s, each movement soft and delicate. Eddie hesitates at first, your lips moving against his as his mouth remains stiff though he isn’t able to refrain for long, the feeling of your soft lips against his, the sweetness of your mouth flowing into his forced him to give in. Eddie’s hands begin to move lower down your body, his hands finding their way underneath your skirt. Before he pulls your panties down, letting the drop to your ankles, he lets his fingertips drag against your cunt, feeling the way your pulsing clit is pressed against the fabric of your undergarments. To you, the feeling makes your eyes roll back, the pressure of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your most sensitive parts making your knees weak. You whine against his mouth, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders to press your bare front into his. 

It takes everything in Eddie to refrain from pulling your panties down abruptly, flipping you face down onto his desk when you whine against his mouth. Slow and steady; Eddie wants to relish every minute he’s under your spell.  Instead, Eddie pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, letting your moistness to be revealed. You drip around his fingers, your body preparing itself for his arrival. Eddie’s breath hitches when he feels how slick your cunt is, how turned on you are from merely his presence, just from a minute or so of kissing. Eddie’s stomach twists with guilt, knowing his interaction with you goes against every university code of conduct, though he couldn’t care less. With a swift movement, he lets his pointer and middle finger plunge into you, your wet core swallowing his digits whole. 

This time, the feeling of Eddie pushing his fingers inside of you causes you to moan loudly, throwing your head back, eyebrows knitted together with building frustration. Eddie takes the opportunity, now that your lips are detached, to leave a trail of gentle kisses down your chest, centering right between your breasts. With his free hand, Eddie cups your breast, letting his mouth envelop your hardened nipple.  You hand grips Eddie’s upper arm tightly as the tip of his tongue flicks across your nipple, sending a spark across your chest, your eyes pinching shut with pleasure. In a rhythmic motion, Eddie’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, your wetness from arousal beginning to drip down your inner thighs, and down the back of Eddie’s hand, down his forearm. 

Your thighs began to tremble against Eddie’s movements, his long fingers fluttering inside you, immediately attracted to the weakest spot inside of you. You feel pressure beginning to build inside your lower abdomen, the aching feeling of needing Eddie’s cock inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut; your body overwhelmed with the feeling of pleasure caused by Eddie’s thick fingers. 

You’re caught off guard when you’re moved quickly, now the one sitting against the hardwood desk, Eddie standing above you. You frown at the feeling of emptiness in your cunt, Eddie’s fingers going missing. Through your eyelashes at Eddie, your lips in a small pout. Eddie lingers above you, his tall stature seeming even taller as you sit at the edge of his desk, the hard edge digging into the softness of your ass. 

Eddie’s eyes gaze at you admiringly, his hand reaching out to touch your face in the manor you had touched his, his fingertips attending to all your soft yet beautiful features. The world around you slows to a vibrant hum, the hallways no empty, all the other students off to their next classes. You stare back at Eddie, feeling tension hang in the air similar to how humidity hangs in the air on a hot summer day. Thick and heavy. Slowly, his fingers come to a stop, his eyes never leaving your face. The pad of his thumb brushes the bottom of your lip then pushes between your lips. You part your lips, eyes wide as Eddie places his thumb on your tongue, your lips puckering around his finger. Your eyes flutter closed again, his finger moving in and out of your mouth as you suck gently on his digit, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. 

“Such a good girl,” Eddie whispers, his voice shuddering as he feels your mouth enclose around his finger. “Such a bright student.” 

You can’t help but smile, the sound of Eddie complimenting you causing heat to creep up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. You sigh against his finger, letting your tongue cradle his thumb. Your clit begins to pulse, the anticipation beginning to kill you softly. Your eyes flutter open, letting your hands reach out to grasp his lower half, your fingers working to unbuckle his black, leather belt. Next, you pull down his fly, revealing a few inches of dark grey boxers, the outline of his cock growing more evident by the second. You let your fingers creep across the band of his jeans, using your upper arm strength to begin to tug downwards. 

Eddie pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stepping back to allow you the space to pull his pants and boxers down. You push yourself off the edge of the desk, kneeling down on the floor, in front of Eddie, to pull his pants down to his calves. Satisfyingly, Eddie’s thick cock bounces free from the confines of his jeans, his pink tip at your eye-level. With no hesitation, nor second thoughts, you take his cock into your hand, your mouth opening to welcome him down your throat. Eddie’s member bulges as you guide him gently down the canal of your throat, your lips puckering in a way that that’s you engulf him. You feel him shudder underneath your touch, his eyes pinching shut, his hand finding its way into the thickness of your hair. His fingers intertwine in your hair, allowing Eddie a good grip to guide you how he pleases. 

Eddie is only the second person you’ve ever fucked, though your positive the first time barely counts. And he’s certainly the biggest cock you’ve ever dealt with, surely ever seen. Your eyes begin to water as your throat expands to fit him inside, your throat walls beginning to ache at the work it has to do to fit him. Nonetheless, you move back and forth, tears beginning to threaten to spill over onto your cheeks, Eddie moving seamlessly in your mouth. Eddie begins to thrust gently into your mouth, his body moving in autopilot as he responds to the pleasure you provide by giving him head. You whimper and moan as he utilizes your throat in just the way he likes, Eddie deciding what temp you move at, as you hold onto his thighs for balance. 

Eddie feels himself getting nearly close, though he has no intention of finishing now. He wants his time with you to last even longer. Eddie backs his hips away from your mouth, letting his cock slip out of your mouth, a single spit string attached at the tip of his cock to your mouth. He leans forward, gripping his hand tightly around your upper arm and lifting you off the ground. With authority, he spins to around, pushing you towards the wooden desk again. Placing a hand on the middle of your back, he pushes you forward, legs pressed against the front of the desk, upper torso bent across the classroom desk. Your eyes and fists squeeze together tightly, the anticipation of feeling Eddie pushed inside of you leaving you on the very edge. You’ve waited for this moment for months. All your wildest fantasies coming true. 

Eddie gently kicks your ankles, spreading your legs apart further, gathering both of your wrists into his hands, behind your back. He leans forward, hovering near your ear. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Eddie says, his voice low. “I knew you were special when you walked into my classroom at the beginning of the semester – so perky, so eager to please.” 

You nod against the desk, feeling the muscles in your shoulder begin to burn from Eddie holding your wrists behind your back. “I wanted to be a good student, Professor Munson. The best one you ever had.” 

You hear the sound of Eddie moving behind you, feel the softness of his skin as he presses himself against you, his throbbing cock getting closer to your cunt. With his hand, Eddie guides his tip against your entrance. “How do you want it?” 

Truthfully, you wanted it every and any way. “Hard, rough. I want you so bad, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Professor Munson. Please, I just want to be fucked.” 

Eddie can’t help it anymore, the sound of you practically begging for him, the way your voice contorts into a whine. It’s the hottest sound he believes he’ll ever hear. He lines himself up with you, his tip grazing your cunt. You sigh loudly, the feeling of him teasing your throbbing cunt makes your legs shiver and become weak. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling like he could come all over your bare ass, the sight of you bending forward across his desk just enough to do the trick. But he refrains. With one hand, he spreads your ass cheeks apart, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Eddie’s heart beats against his chest, his fingers trembling with anticipation as he eases himself into you. Your slick cunt envelopes Eddie’s cock, tightening around him as he begins to thrust into you. His eyes roll back into his head, the feeling of you causing him to lose his breath. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, a whine escaping your lips. Your arms extend from behind your back out to the side, gripping onto the desk. “Oh fuck, Eddie.” You mumble, sighing as you speak. Your body goes from tense to slack, the feeling of Eddie rutting into you bringing you pure pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop.” 

Eddie nods, though he knows you can’t see him. His body moves into you rhythmically, his cock driving entirely into you. Eddie watches for a moment, the way his cock moves into you slowly, your cunt swallowing him whole, and how when he pulls back, his cock is drenched in your arousal. He can’t help but moan in disbelief. 

As Eddie takes you from behind, his motions are slow and even, though your body begins to crave more as the seconds pass. You feel Eddie’s long fingers drip your hip bones; his fingernails blunt against your skin. Needing the feeling of Eddie moving through you at a faster pace, you begin to roll your hips against him, essentially using his cock to fuck yourself. Eddie’s eyes widen, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he watches you move against him. “Such a good girl, y/n.” Eddie says, leaning over to brush your hair that has gathered in front of your face. He watches as your face softens; your lips parting as little breaths escape your mouth. “Yes, Professor Munson,” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with a soft pink. 

Your back arches, your bottom lifting higher into the air. You squirm underneath Eddie’s grip, his stance holding you in place as he takes over thrusting into you. Eddie feels his knees becoming weak, the sensation of his core tightening in his lower abdomen causing him to flinch. Eddie would love nothing to more than to come into you, thick ropes of his cum filling your cunt, giving him the opportunity to watch it drip out of you. He chooses to refrain, knowing that getting a student pregnant would be worse than fucking a student. As Eddie fantasizes about all the places he wants to come on you, he senses your legs tremble underneath him, your arms extending reaching out across the table, gripping the edge. “Yes,” your voice coos. “Right there.” You clench around Eddie’s cock, your core burning as if you’ve touched the sun, legs trembling as you reach a peak, an intense wave bringing your orgasm through your body, straight down to your toes. 

Eddie watches mystified, the way your body shudders underneath his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, soft sighs and whines echoing across the empty classroom. Just you and him. Eddie is sure your orgasming, all because of his touch, is the most beautiful sight, pretty enough to be a historical painting, hung in the Louvre. 

After a moment, your body relaxes again, becoming limp as sweat collects across your body and in your hairline. Eddie pulls himself out of you, reaching to grab your forearm. With his strength, he pulls you across the desk, bringing you to your knees in front of him. For the first time in several moments, and he gets a look at your weathered face. Your lips are red and puckered, dried spit across your cheek. Your eyes are glassy, red rimming your eyes, black mascara smudged under your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, pieces of your hair clinging to your face. You look tired, exhausted, yet you’re still so eager to please, your hands beginning to move towards Eddie’s cock that rests at your eye level. You lick your lips, missing the flavor of him inside your mouth. 

Eddie lets his fingers intertwine in your hair again, bringing you underneath his cock. You crouch down, looking up at Eddie through your eyelashes. You watch, arousal still collecting in your cunt, as Eddie strokes himself above you, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. “Come for me, Professor Munson. Let me find out how you taste.” 

Eddie’s eyes open, his eyes finding yours. Just then, ropes of cum dribble out of the tip of his cock, splashing onto your cheeks, across your nose. You lean up, resting your tongue just underneath his tip. In a slow flow, Eddie’s come dribbles onto your tongue, the sweet, yet salty, flavor causing your tastebuds to flair. You sigh, satisfaction playing across your face as you swallow Eddie’s load, more of his semen splattering your face as you do so. 

Once Eddie is finished, he’s out of breath, sweat causing dark spots across his ‘Metallica’ t-shirt. Eddie pulls his boxers and jeans up, glancing at you as he rights himself, zipping his fly and re-buckling his belt. You're slower to put your clothes on, liking the way it feels to have Eddie’s gaze on your naked body, his eyes taking in every curve of yours.  

Once you put your clothes back on, bending over to pick up your zip up hoodie and beginning to put your arms in the sleeve, Eddie coughs, standing awkwardly off to the side. “This can never happen again, y/n. This was a lapse in my judgment.” 

You pout, tossing him a glance. You bend over once more, picking your backpack up by one of the straps. “Professor Munson, please” you say, shaking your head. You run a hand through your hair, attempting to make it look as if you just didn’t get railed, by your professor, in a classroom. “We both know this is going to happen again, and again. Should I come to office hours next week?” 

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Eddie knows it’s wrong to have relations with a student, likely to get him fired if anyone were to ever find out. But you were so enticing, irresistible. For a moment, Eddie wonders how many people you’ve been with. Where did you learn to be so appealing, to move your hips in such a way, pouting your lips and batting your lashes to draw in any man you please? Regardless, Eddie wants to know more about you, learn what else you want to do with him. “Yes, come to my office hours next week.” 

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Gaze of the Moon (HOTD One-Shot)

Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You and your wife, the Princess Rhaenyra steal a moment of peace together as you prepare for the coming birth of your child.

Fic type: fluff, romance, reflection

A/N: I had intended for this to be fem!reader x Rhaenyra but it wound up GN. This is also for @hotd-bigbang's March 11th prompt.

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Did you know of that tale?" You asked softly, brushing your wife's hair back behind her ear as she lay against you in the moonlight. "About the second moon who cracked open from the heat of the sun and let the dragons out?"

Your wife let out a deep breath, the back of her skull pressing into your shoulder as she leaned back against you to peer out at the sky- up at the full moon above. She was gorgeous tonight. Radiant, round- both wife and moon.

The silver rays caught in Rhaenyra's loose hair, free tonight from tight braids and silk ribbons. The way you knew she preferred it. She'd been a wild child who'd grown into a proper lady, though you knew she yearned for the freedom of manhood. If she were a man, things would be easier. You both knew this but didn't care to dwell on it. There was no changing what was.

Rhaenyra hummed, eyes catching in the moon's gaze.

"I'm sure I remember my father telling me such a story once," she affirmed softly, lip twitching ever-so-slightly into the ghost of a smile. Your wife spent so much time stone-faced under the watchful eyes of the court vultures that even in the privacy of your own quarters she sometimes had trouble letting the cracks through. You treasured each of them like jewels as they deserved to be. "I used to stay up late into the eve and watch the moon- waiting for her to split and for the night to grow dark save for the fire of dragon's breath,' she admitted, eyes drawing closed as she thought on the memories.

"Perhaps one day, my dear wife," you said, pressing a kiss to her head before allowing your own to lean back against the cold, stone wall behind you. "Tell me, what is High Valyrian for 'moon'?"

You'd been learning her family's language for some time now, and you were certainly getting there. It was just that you preferred to hear the words from Rhaenyra's tongue. And truly, who could blame you when her voice had such royal lilt? Her voice was a balm for the mind. Or your mind, at the very least. You could listen to her speak for an age and then some.

"Hūra," Rhaenyra replied, a soft knowing smirk on her lips. You repeated it back to her, testing the syllables on your tongue. You liked the way it sounded, the way it felt. You reached a hand around her to brush over her swollen belly, round with child.

"If we have a daughter," you said thoughtfully, "Hūra is a nice name, do you not think?" Your fingers danced over her belly, and you both let out a laugh when you felt the babe kick from within her. Rhaenyra's hand joined yours, squeezing comfortingly. You hastily added, "It is not a traditional name, but I like it."

"Princess Hūra Targaryen," Rhaenrya breathed, opening her eyes to peer at her belly. "It does have a ring to it," she agreed, "and if the little one's restlessness is anything to speak of, the babe likes it, too."

You both lapsed into silence for a while, enjoying the light of the moon, the glint of the stars and the sounds of the night. It was quiet at this hour. Your favourite hour. What else could you possibly want for than this? A loving wife in your arms, a babe on the way, a flask of wine to share and the gaze of the moon on you?

"I suppose it is only fair you get to name one of our children," she said after a while. You'd almost thought her asleep in your arms with how quiet she'd been. "Why not the first. Get it out of the way, hmm?" She teased. "What if the babe is a boy?"

You chuckled softly, flicking at her arm in reply to her jape.

"Thank you, wife. Your generosity knows no bounds. I do not think the bairn is a boy, but if he is, I am quite fond of Vēzos. Best keep with the theme."

"One has to wonder where this sudden passion for celestial names has come from, my love," Rhaenyra mused. "Perhaps we will have twins. The Maester did say it was a possibility. Hūna and Vēzos. Moon and Sun-" Rhaenyra shifted uncomfortably as the babe wriggled under her skin. "I like it."

"Strong names," you added, brushing your fingers through her hair softly, aiming to detangle the few knots that caught in your fingers. "Compassionate names. Perfect for bairns destined for greatness."

You suddenly found yourself hoping for twins. A boy and a girl. Siblings to grow up together and protect each other from the horrors that lay dormant in the realm. You could picture them, age three or perhaps four, playing hide and seek in the gardens. Ages ten and four by their mothers' side on the throne. Ages nine and ten crowned joint heirs to the throne. Ages four and thirty sitting side by side on the throne. Ruling, together. Sun and Moon, over their kingdom. Their birth-right. Protecting each other and keeping each other in check. What was best for the kingdom.

The thought filled you with pride. Oh, yes, you hoped for twins. It wouldn't be long now until Rhaenyra was due. Within a month, most likely. It was part of the reason you both were staying up late at night and enjoying the peace. Once Rhaenyra commenced and completed her labours, there wouldn't be much room for peace and quiet.

And yet, you couldn't wait. You didn't like the thought of your lady-wife in pain, but the thought of your quiet chambers filled with the sounds of a babe or two growing big and strong was perhaps motivating enough for you to bear the thought of her pain. You'd be by her side no matter what, of course. Fuck the Maesters and midwives. This was your wife, your babe. You would be there to support her until she asked you to leave.

"We should retire to bed," Rhaenyra broke your thoughts as she began shifting to stand. "We both need our rest for the day to come. I believe we are making arrangements for catering after the birth."

Ah, yes. The feast the King was insisting upon for the birth of his Grand-Sire. As the birth grew closer, more plans needed to be set. Catering, colours, floral arrangements, gifts for the babe. So many things that Rhaenyra and yourself were set to arrange. You may have enjoyed setting the festivities up, but Rhaenyra would be more than happy to sit out if she could.

You hadn't told Rhaenyra yet, but you'd made arrangements with the cooks to send for the ingredients to make Rhaenyra's favourite sweets. Ones she had not had since she were near a babe herself. The rest of the food, however, you both needed to settle on. A job for tomorrow, quite clearly.

You supported her as she stood, following behind. You stretched out the muscles in your arms and legs, creaking with complaint. You could only imagine how Rhaenyra felt. You left the balcony door open to the bedchambers as you helped your wife shift out of her gown.

Once she was settled into the sheets, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief. The bed took the weight off her body and allowed her to settle in. You followed, pressing up against her back to keep her warm against the slight chill of the night.

Rhaenyra took your hand and rested it against her belly. You felt any of your remaining troubles melt away for the moment and pressed a kiss to the back of Rhaenyra's neck.

"Good night, my love," you whispered softly, rubbing your thumb over the silky material of her nightdress. "Sleep well, little one."

You drifted off to the sound of Rhaenyra's soft breathing and the quiet chatter of insects out in the gardens below your balcony, dreaming of the bairns to come, and a life well lived.

[mattybsgroupie]

secret | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); PEGGING; praising; mommy kink; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: HELLO MY DARLINGS i missed u guys so much! i know i’m gonna get severely criticized for writing this but please remember this is a fan-FICTION, nothing here is true. i do not intend to disrespect matthew in any way. i’m just gonna make a quick disclaimer that many straight men are into pegging because the male g-spot is located on their prostate — and that doesn’t make them any less straight ♡ this is a fictional story between two consenting adults but if you feel uncomfortable, please do NOT read. there’s no need to make a fuss about it. and for those who were expecting it: thank you for being so patient! it’s not proofread but i hope y’all enjoy it, thank you as usual for all the love!

requested by: anon (several, actually)

- ♡ -

“so” matt started, lips parted and furrowed eyebrows. “how… how did that work?” he asked, trying to hide his curiosity.

“well, i just put it on” i moved my hands to my thighs, mimicking the movements of pulling up my underwear. “and you know, use it?”

“that’s insane” he chuckled, scratching his beard and resting his hand on his cheek, trying to digest everything we had talked.

he started it. matt wanted to know how sex was on my previous relationships and if he was any better. of course he was, but instead of acknowledging it, we decided to debate how we used to do things with our ex-partners, both of us boiling in jealousy as we agreed to share intimate moments that happened before we started dating. 

“and there was this other girl” i teased, knowing matt had heard enough of that.

“no, i don’t wanna know” he tilted his head and raised his palms to his ears. “you can keep your strap-on or whatever the fuck that was” he said while holding his laugh, getting up from the couch and walking to the kitchen. matt chugged a cup of water, still processing all the information we had exchanged.

i dragged my feet in slow steps towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist and placing a kiss on his covered collarbone. “hey” i called, grabbing matt’s attention. “just so you know, you’re better than anyone else” i reassured him.

“yeah?” he asked while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, blue eyes staring at me in a soft, sweet gaze. “no one else fucks you like i do?”

“no one else” i giggled and jokingly punched his chest before snuggling onto his hug. matt’s back rested against the countertop as he kissed on the top of my head. “i love you”

“i love you more” he smiled, sealing our lips together before taking the lead to his bedroom. “and you know what? i wanna see you wearing that thing” i widened my eyes, not expecting he’d be interested on that.

“no, not tonight, silly girl” he chuckled at my reaction. “i’ll let you know”.

- ♡ -

matt’s chest panted heavily, his blue eyes covered in eagerness, watching me as i finished clipping the dildo on the strap wrapped around my waist. i rested my back against the headboard, waiting for matt to join me. he was so, so nervous. i could tell by the way he kept on picking the skin around his nailbuds and biting his lower lip.

“sweetheart” i called, my fingertips caressing the short hair on the back of his neck. “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, alright?” i reassured him, placing a kiss on his bare shoulder.

i felt matt’s muscles relaxing as soon as i pressed my lips against his skin, his light sigh indicating he needed to be taken care of. “i’m here, baby. nothing bad’s gonna happen, hm?” i ran my fingers through his brown strands, matt soon giving in and tilting his head to look at me. 

“i’m just—” he started and i raised my eyebrows, allowing him to keep going. “embarrassed…” he spoke in a low tone, adjusting the pillow on his lap, trying to cover his growing boner.

“why is that?” i cooed, “is it because i look too good like that?” i playfully teased him, receiving a chuckle in response as he rolled his eyes. 

“yes, actually!” matt lightened up, and my heart finally felt at ease. “you look so fucking sexy with this ridiculous pink dick” he mocked the silicone dildo, tapping it and making it jiggle. i raised my palm to my mouth, failing to cover my laughter as we both watched the scene. “at least mine’s bigger” matt said, leaning in for a kiss.

my hands cupped his cheeks while his own came to my breasts as we interlocked our tongues, fighting for dominance, making the wet sounds soon fill the darkened room. my fingers reach the pillow, tossing it somewhere else and finally exposing matt’s length. my grin grew as i saw his red, leaking tip begging to be touched. i wrapped my knuckles around his cock, matt pulling away from the kiss with a gasp from the sudden contact. he closed his eyes as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, leaving bites on every inch his teeth could reach.

i began to stroke matt’s shaft, twisting my fist in a rapid pace. i moved my thumb upwards, circling his tip before coating his cock with the pre-cum that came out of his slit. i kept on pumping matt, feeling his veins swelling up against my palm and hearing his whimpers closer to my ear. “you’re already doing so well for me” i praised, receiving a groan in response. he needed that.

my free hand moved to his thighs, strongly gripping the flesh before reaching to his crotch, waiting for his approval to keep going. matt nodded vigorously, moans slipping from his mouth when my digits touched his balls “mommy mhm— please”.

“close already baby?” i asked, unloosening my grip around his cock, but still pumping it. matt muffled a “yes”, trying his best to not cum. 

“can you be a good boy and hold for me?” i cooed, finally letting go of his shaft and placing kisses on the top of his head. matt got up from my neck, looking at me with the biggest pout, blue eyes filled with tears in frustration for not being allowed to cum. i gave him a peck before reaching for the nightstand, quickly searching for the lube and applying it generously, spreading the liquid on my fake dick, slightly pumping the lenght as matt watched.

“i can’t” he said, eyes widening. “can’t look at you while we do it” matt confessed.

“you don’t have to” i reassured him. “can you lay on your stomach for me, baby?” i asked and matt quickly adjusted himself as i got up on my knees behind him. i grabbed his thighs, dragging my fingers along his skin as i hovered over him, my nipples brushing against his back. i trailed kisses throughout his shoulders, going upwards to his neck and whispering “you look so good like this, baby. such a good boy for me”.

matt mumbled something i didn't understand as i kept on sucking his bare skin with my lips, leaving tiny purple marks on his flesh while my hands moved to his ass, groping it tightly. “mommy, d-don't tease” he said, “'m ready”.

“are you sure, babyboy?” matt nodded, slightly parting his legs. i couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. “gotta stretch you out first” i told him, once again filling my hands with lube. matt hesitated when my index reached his entrance, but i kept on rubbing my digits in between his asscheeks as i showered him with praises, telling him how good was being for me.

matt finally relaxed, allowing me to slide a finger inside. i could see his mouth hanging open as he gripped on the sheets, trying to get used to the unfamiliar feeling. i went further, barely curling my knuckles when matt let out a loud groan “mommy! fuck!” he complained as i kept on teasing that particular spot. now that i knew where it was, i slowly removed my finger, listening to matt's whines as i grabbed the silicone dildo, spreading the lube down the length before placing the tip next to matt's entrance. he seemed less worried after realizing how good it felt to have his prostate massaged, but still hesitated when i moved my hips forward.

“i'm not gonna hurt you baby, i promise” i spoke, nearing my torso on his back as one of my hands rested on his hips. “we can stop anytime you want, okay?” i reminded him, lowering my palm to meet his aching cock. matt gave me a deep sigh when i finally started to pump him again, unconsciously resting his weight on his knees and elbows, giving me more acess.

i rubbed his tip in circular motions as i gradually buried myself inside of him, the pleasure from matt's cock being jerked off helping him distract from the unsual sensation of something bigger than my fingers entering him. matt wasn't even close to taking the dildo's full lenght, and i didn't notice when the plastic tip touched his sweet spot, receiving a loud moan from matt, who tilted his head to finally look at me, not being able to form a proper sentence, babbling “keep going” along with an infinite amount of whimpers.

i started to move my hips, not really doing any effort as i fastened the pace of my strokes on his dick. i knew having his prostate touched for the first time was an overwhelming feeling, and i wanted him to feel just as good as he always made me feel. my thrusts turned lazier as matt's cries became louder, “mommy, 'm s-so close!” he managed to say.

“you can cum anytime you want, baby. you're taking me so well, you deserve it” i said as i twisted my fist on matt's shaft a few more times before his orgasm crashed over his body, making his legs tremble as he spurted the thick, white liquid over my hand. i immediatly stopped moving, allowing him to recover from his high as i peppered kisses throughout his bare skin.

matt took longer than i expected to come back to his senses. i had pulled out and taken the strap off, letting him collapse on the matress before wrapping my arms around his waist, holding him on a tight hug as he snuggled on my chest, slowly calming his breath down and closing his eyes.

“matt, baby” i called, “are you okay? was it too much?” he denied with his head before looking at me, grin growing on his face.

“so good” he said, sealing our lips in a peck. “but it's not even close to what i do to you” i widened both my eyes and mouth playfully, pretending to be mad at him “i can fuck you better than you can fuck me, admit it”

“i can't believe you're saying that” i rolled my eyes as matt brought me closer to him, both of us giggling. “show me what you got!” i teased.

“i couldn't do it right now even if i wanted to” he complained. “i'm hurt! and this is supposed to be a secret!” matt said, grabbing my thighs in order to tangle our legs. “and just so you know, tomorrow you're gonna have to take both my dick and this other fucking pink thing”.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @lov3bug @1c3b4th

[learnelle]

📚Attention All Studyblrs📚

I’d like to invite you to join the Studyblr Community, using tumblr’s brand new feature! This community is for original study related content, a place to support each other and is intended to be your new cozy corner of the internet. Let’s make this a renaissance of the 2017-2020 studyblr golden age ♡₊ ⊹📃💭⋆⭒˚｡⋆

How it works:

Join via this link.

Make an introductory post within the community about yourself and your studies.

Reblog your study related content to the community! Note: currently you can only do this on the desktop web browser version of tumblr. I’ve contacted support to see when we can do this from our phones too!

Reblog this post for reach & expand this post for more info!

How do I reblog my content into the community page?

It’s super simple! When you click to reblog your post, select the Studyblr Community instead of your study blog. You should be able to do this by clicking your blog name when you are reblogging a post.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

Some rules for this community:

This is a space for original content. If you are reposting images from Pinterest you will be blocked, this is not the place for that. Some exceptions can be made, like resharing useful study infographics with credit.

You don’t need to be a student to join! You just need to enjoy this type of content

I reserve the right to block people out of the community if I believe them to threaten the safety and peace of the members.

There is a limit to how many people can join the community. If this limit is reached, I will remove members who’s blogs haven’t been active in a long time. If this happens to you, you’re totally allowed to join back in when you’re active again!

Due to personal experiences with my privacy being disrespected, you are encouraged to not share private identifiable information like what university you attend. This rule is at your own discretion!

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

What should my introduction include?

Any information that you’re comfortable with sharing! This could include the basics like what name you’d like to be referred as, what you are studying, what your academic goals are etc.

For inspiration, check the #studyblr introduction tags

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

What was the Studyblr golden age?

This basically refers to a time where the studyblr hashtag was full of original content made by students. It has more of a community vibe back then, which I’d love to bring back! (Disclaimer: it was not a perfect time though, there was heaps of stationary overconsumption and a big focus on aesthetic notes. But the community was thriving!)

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

New Academic Year Challenge:

I will be making a studyblr productivity challenge which will start at the end of August for the new academic year! It will include prompts to answer as posts, so if you have any fun prompt ideas let me know!

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

Why I made this community:

I’ve been struggling to find active Studyblr accounts with the #studyblr tag, and honestly most of the content on this tag isn’t related to studying… Tbh I’m guilty of this, even though I identify as primarily being a studyblr for psychology & french, I realise that some of my bookish/artsy posts might have been annoying to see on the studyblr tag. (I’m sorry to anyone who has been silently irritated by this!!) I’m a bit ashamed that mildly contributed to this, and so I hope this community will balance that out!

Btw, I made this community a while back just to test out this new feature, but I’d like to credit @star-motif ‘s post for making me think about this more, and subsequently publicise the community! I hope this space will bring us back to the golden age of tumblr😊

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘

Lastly: I need help

I’d like to make an updated directory of active studyblrs, kind of like this one. If anybody has any resources on how I could put one together, or if you’d like to take on the task, please let me know!

[anlian-aishang]

Tags: levi ackerman x reader, mutual pining [coworkers] to smut, only one bed, non-sexual spitting, alcohol mention, reader wears levi’s shirt, cunnilingus, penetration, modern AU, fem!reader Word count: 10,000 A/N: thank you to @lostinwildflowers for betaing this! Birch is one my writing idols, so I am truly honored. I hope you enjoy <3

This can’t be happening.

Unknowingly, the two of you shared a silent sentiment. After a late taxi, long lines of airport security, and racing to the terminal only to be delayed for several hours, the cherry on the shit sundae - as he would put it - was the midnight arrival to a hotel with only one bed.

“You’re sure?”

The look on the nervous teenager’s face conveyed the answer before he even uttered the question. Still, Levi knew he had to ask, audibly enough for you to hear - just so you would know that he did. In the face of liability, you had to acknowledge that he had tried his best.  

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Their eyes were darting in panic between you and Levi as if you were the antidote to this angry customer. But he wasn’t angry, at least, not at them. Wasn’t the brat’s fault that Erwin booked the wrong room. “I have that in the afternoon of September the 15th, E. Smith booked a single king bed for one adult guest.”

“Two adult guests.”

They shared a lengthy eye contact. From the background, you watched their miscommunication unfold and cringed with secondhand embarrassment. You nearly burst into nervous laughter when they shrugged, “I can provide you with extra complimentary toiletries.”

At his sides, Levi unclenched his fists in defeat, “...We’ll manage.”

The plastic key cards made a satisfying sound as the receptionist slid them across the marble countertop - equal and opposite to the dissatisfaction on Levi’s face. In one smooth motion, he handed you your copy while simultaneously whipping out his cell phone. Two clicks - speed dial and call. Two rings - Erwin answered.

You couldn’t hear the other end, but you had your guesses.

Hello?

“You fucked up.”

Sorry?

“As you should be.”

For what? 

“Stuffing two adults in one bed, what made you think we’d appreciate that accommodation?”

Given the looks you’ve been giving each other at the office, I thought you might. 

Levi violently snapped his phone closed in hopes you couldn’t hear that. Thrusting his phone in his pocket, he used his free hand to snatch luggage from yours. “Give me that.” 

A kind gesture, but irritation in his voice made it confusing. You thought to grab it back and insist that you could handle it, but instead, held your tongue. Clearly, he was steaming. Any objection, even a well-intended one, you doubted it would better his mood. Walking towards the lift, you concluded that nothing you had to say would supply ice to his ire. Though, the walk, time, and your calming presence, seemed to be working, you thought as you watched him delicately pad the UP button. 

In the intimacy of the elevator, Levi allowed himself one venting word, “Idiot.” He sighed, placed his thumb and pointer finger on each of his temples, and rubbed wrinkles into his skin. “As if we haven’t already been through enough.”

Today and long before, the two of you had been through plenty together. Tonight was the first time you would pin it on Erwin. All other times, it had been your own selves and each other to blame. 

He loved the way you looked in those small pencil skirts and see-through tights, but he hated what it did to him. Meetings in which he could only stare, absorbing nothing. In the middle of a phone call, when you walked by, he would forget its purpose and stammer aimlessly. Nights kept awake, staring at his ceiling, a blank canvas for projecting his wandering thoughts: how you would look with the skirt yanked up and the tights pulled down, how you took your outfit off after work, and if you wanted his help with that. 

Countless times, you had cursed the man you crushed on. The way he ran his fingers through his hair when overworked made you want to try it yourself, to take his stressors away - or better yet - serve as the relief to them. On hot days, he loosened his top button. On lucky days, the top two. On his way out the door, he would tug his tie out from under his collar, creating a loop wide enough for you to slip your hand through and use it to pull his lips to yours - or so you imagined. Each day, Levi had fed you tastes. Over time, your craving for him had grown unbearable. 

Ultimately, this out-of-town assignment was a test, and a final exam at that. Years of studying one another were culminating in one night, on one bed. The chime of the elevator interrupted your thoughts as if it was a warning: ground yourself. The plain of Levi’s expression and calm in his pace on the way to room 845 echoed its sense: he was unriled, uninterested. 

Your read was wrong. Levi was thankful that you trailed him: with his back to you, you could not see his rouge tint, the bite of his lip, or the twitch of his cheek. As he pressed his key to the reader, held the heavy hotel door, and slugged both of your belongings atop the desk and dresser, you admired the way he moved so suavely - when actually, he considered his motions stiff, careful, and calculated. 

Neither of you bothered to turn on the light. Taxed bodies, tired eyes, and tempted temperaments shared a desire to finally climb in bed. No need to delay things any longer. Levi unzipped his suitcase, the sound garnered your attention. Immediately, you noticed now neatly he had packed, admired his organization and pristine folds, then planned that when it came your time to unpack, you would aim to shield your messy methods from the clean freak’s vision.

A gray cotton tee - matching his eyes, black sweatpants - same shade as his hair. A navy canvas travel bag topped the pile. Levi leaned effortlessly against the white bathroom door and stated, “I’ll change in here.”

You nodded vehemently, as if he had ordered you on an important mission, “I’ll be out here.” 

Cute. And at that intrusive thought, he silently ducked away. 

Unbuckling his belt, tugging his zipper, freeing his legs from his slacks, Levi tipped his head back against the wall and sighed. Every muscle in his body finally untensed, he was set free from one cage of many. His business-casual confines had been done away with. Now, he just had professionalism, work relationships, and his fucking hormones to maintain. 

His boxer briefs were agitatingly taut, struggling to constrain years’ worth of tension in their cotton threads. Levi looked down to his lap and cursed himself. Hovering around thirty, yet all the composure of a fresh young bachelor. Gradually, Levi hooked his thumb beneath the elastic waistband and loosened just a little, allowing him room to breathe. Too much room maybe as the chill thermostat air contrasted harshly with his warmed passion and drew a loud hiss. Levi clenched his teeth hard in an attempt to bar his vocals, praying to whatever power that you wouldn’t knock on the door and call Levi, you alright? It was just the kind of person you were, and Levi had come to know you well. 

That anxiety turned out to be false, for your ears were ringing: ignorant of his desires, overwhelmed by your own. Gingerly, you unzipped your luggage and fret at the sight: a little black nightgown with lace on the hems. Its sight hit you like a load of bricks, lightning to the thunderous memory of your midnight, sleep-deprived, frantic packing. That woman was giddy for the business trip with her office crush and, in that frenzy, picked her sexiest pajamas for the special occasion. Goddammit! If only you knew that he wouldn’t be seeing it from across the room as a tease, he would be sleeping next to it, maybe even feeling it if one of you crossed your half of the mattress. Cursing yourself, you dug frantically in search of something - anything - else to wear to bed, but were rudely met with only pantsuits and blouses. You bunched your nightgown in your trembling fists, but its thinness and shortness allowed it to fit wholly in your hands - foiling your coping strategy. All you could do was tip your head back and sigh to the ceiling, Fuck me.

That feeling echoed when you draped it over yourself and saw your reflection in the hotel window. Your hair was disheveled from the long day. Makeup smeared and ran down your face, eyeliner to eyeshadow. Wrinkles in your silk dress. Looks like you were already fucked. 

On the other side of the door, Levi was thinking the same thing: he was absolutely fucked. His erection stood high after minutes of waiting. Cold water splashed on his face, but his fever seemed to evaporate it. Trying to think about humbling topics, but he couldn’t get you off his mind. To make his arousal vanish, there was one thing he could do, but there wasn’t enough time for that. Even if the shower were running, Levi doubted that the downpour of water would be able to suppress the noises of slapping skin or his embarrassingly heightened vocals. Fuck. Levi clutched the bathroom countertop and sighed at his reflection. His exhale fogged the mirror just before he hung his head down and conceded. God, help me. 

His prayers ignored, you ended up knocking on the bathroom door eventually: “Levi?”

Every nerve in his body froze. He stammered more times than he would have liked before managing a stern “What?”

“Sorry! I just -” humiliated heat seemed to radiate off of you, “- take your time, I just -”

Half listening, half panicking, Levi seemed not to pay mind to your take your time - stepping into his joggers and throwing on his shirt as fast as he could.

“- can I brush my teeth?”

You were startled when his response was a quick and loud turn of the handle, wordlessly letting you in. Levi was surprised to see you the way you were: temptress dress with a toothbrush and toothpaste innocently perched in each hand. The eye contact lasted for three seconds, but you could have sworn that it was that many years long. 

The twitch of your hands and your heart’s lofty goals placed a dollop of toothpaste twice as big as you normally would. Had to have perfect breath, just in case. Not even just in case, you were going to lay beside him - mere inches away - for the next several hours. In those seconds of pondering, gravity began to spill your toothpaste off the bristles and towards the pristine marble vanity. With haste, you jammed the toothbrush into your mouth, causing you to gag on your device. 

Levi felt his erection press against his waistband and rolled his eyes at his own stupid urges. You assumed that eye roll was for you and offered an innocent grin. Not so innocent, however, was your curiosity. His t-shirt was tight, leaving little to the imagination. One arm’s reach from an array of muscles, you kept your eyes deliberately on the mirror ahead. However, your doppelganger had a mind of her own apparently, gaze falling from eye contact and onto his chest, waist, abdomen. Without even having to turn his head, Levi could see your staring, obviously more obvious than you thought it would be. With your attention on his lower half, Levi allowed himself a smirk. 

Such a silly thing, but was this the first time you brushed your teeth next to someone? This handful of minutes was inexplicably romantic, oddly domestic. Pajamas, double sinks, and the end of a long day. You had been coworkers, acquaintances, and unknowingly requited lovers, but for this one moment, you were husband and wife. 

White toothpaste lined the gap between his top and bottom lip, and for some reason, you felt your knees buckle. Levi ducked down to spit, a polite attempt to hide it. Your eyes rejected his offer, instead widening as your pupils honed in on the sight. Leaning forward ever so slightly, you savored yet loathed the way his rejection ran down the pipe. What a waste. 

Levi sheathed his toothbrush back in its protective case, a neat freak through and through, and slid it back into his tote. Sifting through, he stumbled upon a mini bottle of mouthwash, making him freeze with indecision: added freshness at the cost of spitting in front of you again? He felt that once had already been rude enough. Levi shot you a side-eye and made an unexpected eye contact: he was trying to read you, you were already staring. Mutually miscommunicated guilt, both of you felt you had been caught and snapped back to aversion. 

It came your turn to rinse your mouth, and he couldn’t help it. Levi could have blamed his peripheral vision, could have blamed the bright lights that lined the mirror, but hard-pressed, he could not come up with an excuse for why he watched you then. The streak of white that shot out of your mouth, its wake dribbling down your lips. Goddammit, you cursed your clumsiness and hastily wiped your mess with a washcloth. He knew it as well as you did: he should have been grossed out. Only Levi realized, though, how much he liked it, he was just too ashamed to admit it. 

Though his arousal screamed, his lips stayed silent. There was a time and place.

Was there? You’ve worked together for how long? All those years, they never had a time or place?

A long inhale, a slow exhale, his fingers curled underneath the cold countertop, hoping its chill would thwart the flush of his chest. Fuck how badly he wanted to kiss you then, to thumb that white stain off your chin and into his mouth, to clutch the backs of your thighs and hoist you onto that vanity. Your waist in his hands, your sex in line with his -

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

His rapid response, you mistook it as anger. While the voice on his shoulder was lust, yours was insecurity. Surely, you’re the last straw. Having to share a bed with a dork like you? He’s had a tough day. Don’t make him endure this.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

A dumbbell dropped to the pit of his stomach. Of course not, but for you to bring it up, he must have been hasty to assume that you would share the bed. Levi grit his teeth, annoyed with his lofty goals. Two slow blinks, “I can.”

That was the last thing you wanted. “N-No… I don’t - I don’t mean…” Your lips parted in stammer. Eyes darted as if the tile walls would whisper you the answer. For a moment, you cursed the beautiful neutrality of his face: impossible not to love, but impossible to read. His stillness was contagious, though, and brought you to settle on an answer, “I’ll meet you under the sheets.”

Ears burned red as they checked: was that selective hearing or was that what you really said? Before his eyes could study you, you turned on your heel and closed the door shut.

Once again, on opposite sides of the door, your sentiment was shared: Phew. 

He took a few minutes after that. When he finally walked out, he found that you had been lotioning your legs over that time. Dim glow of the bedside lamp reflected on your smooth skin. If not for the way he had come to know you, to respect and appreciate you, this sight could have been the cover of some sketchy magazine. Eagerness glazed your eyes. Your hands had been massaging your inner thighs, now a perfect shield for the gem between your legs. Levi gave the slightest shake of his head, not disapproval, but disbelief. How did you manage such effortless perfection?

Was that not everything about you, though? The most minute smile in meetings. Biting your lip when you were bored. A laugh so beautiful that it served as its own positive reinforcement, beckoning others to amuse you again. Were you the one? 

Or was it the eyes of your beholder? Maybe you weren’t perfect, maybe that’s why you were in his eyes. Despite all the signs of your singlehood - never in a rush to get home, never a mention of a date - he never truly believed it. It was a war of his flawless intuition and steep infatuation. Either you were the one for him, or he had been wrong all these years. 

Get in the bed, idiot. 

His stride was steady, captivating, as he made his way to the side of the bed. In habit, Levi crossed his arms across his torso, prepared to lift up, but caught himself halfway. No, he would not be sleeping shirtless tonight. Neither would he sleep in his loose and breathable boxer shorts, but instead, stifling fleece. Already, for one reason or another, he was sweating. Upon approach, the layers upon layers of sheets, blanket, and comforter looked even more suffocating. He caught a glimpse of the thermostat, but then of you, and found your skin laden with goosebumps. Lips rolled beneath his teeth, bargaining, but he could not bring himself to turn the AC up while your body temperature was down. Just as strongly, he refused to do anything that might make you uncomfortable, like taking off his clothes, no matter how badly he wanted to. More words would have served you both well, tearing down the artificial barrier your doubts were constructing. 

Can I take this off? 

I would love nothing more.

But you were both stupid to imagine that dialogue.

Levi slowly reclined back, sighing as he sunk into the sheets. Already, his skin was burning. He combed his fingers back through his bangs and released a heavy sigh. A heavenly trial, you read it as a hellish endurance, and instinctually apologized, “...I’m sorry about this.”

You have nothing to be sorry for, Levi pondered the response, but deemed it too much. Instead, he feigned a disinterested mumble, “It’s Erwin’s fault.”

You, on the other hand, indulged your gut feeling, “He’s done worse.”

Levi huffed a single exhale, his version of a chuckle.

You turned on your side. He loved that you chose to face him rather than the wall. He hated that he even thought of that. You were so close, he could feel the mattress dip between you, could feel your breath cool against his skin. Eyes fluttering shut, your voice was either sultry or exhausted, a glass-half-full kind of thing. “Good night, Levi.”

Fuck, what a fight, battling the urge to kiss you then and there. Your eyes sparkling, noses nearly touching, he had sworn that this was how all the shitty romcoms went, but he failed to find anything lackluster about this scene. His lips yearned to close that distance, arms ached to perch themselves at your sides. Levi redirected that energy to his hands, fisting the comforter hard as he draped it gently over your shoulders, “Night, (Y/N).”

But how were you going to sleep like this? Although you were running off a 20-hour day, you felt that sleep would be a waste. Queueing for tickets to see your favorite artist, only to close the window the moment your turn came. Styling your hair just to go and get it cut straight after. Champagne dumped down the drain. Mentally, it was an unbearable thought. Physically, your body was even more resistant to the idea. Your middle was fucking throbbing. Nipples stood tall against their skimpy silk covering as if reaching for more contact, his contact. Legs squirmed against one another, trying to smother the burn between them, but you willed them frozen: don’t wake him up. 

In your best state of mind, you would have recalled the symptoms of his insomnia: always a tall thermos of caffeine on his desk, perpetual circles under his eyes, especially the times you both worked late. On your way out, you would peek through the pane of glass on his door to wave good-bye. Now and then, he would be hunched over his desk, imprints of the keyboard on his cheek - a makeshift pillow for his crash naps. With a shred of thought, you would have realized he was likely already awake, but you were incapable of even that. It was midnight when you crawled into the king bed. Red digits at your side now read 1:40 AM, yet you knew that not one of those one-hundred minutes had been spent in sleep. Coffee in the morning, nerves on the plane, hormones now, you had left composure back at your apartment and you weren’t sure you’d get it back at any point of this business trip. I mean shit, you swore, this was only the first night.

Only the first night. One of many sure to come, right? How many nights had he gone to bed alone, kept awake with longing of having you by his side? How many mornings had he woken himself up with a sleepy mumble of your name, only to find one half of his bed empty? It couldn’t all be for nothing. Now that he was sharing the bed with you, it was all he ever wanted, yet you were still out of reach. Uncharacteristic, the most reliable man you knew was spiraling in thought. 

But to you, it would make sense: the only one who could bring Levi Ackerman down was none other than himself. He saw it a different way: you were the only one who could dismantle him like this.

You could feel his heat emanating, could see his sweat reflecting. Before you could stop yourself, your affection had boiled over, “Levi…” your voice was hoarse, having gone hours without as much as a whisper, and unexpectedly loud. His silver gaze drifted to you, depleting the last of your reserves, you mused, “...you’re hot.”

A statement, not a question. In near pitch blackness, he allowed himself a rare smirk. Levi waited until it faded to turn towards you. 

You pinched the hem of his shirt in your fingertips, nails accidentally scraped his abdomen on the way. “Want this off?” You tugged lightly, “I don’t mind.”

At the same time, you shivered, and Levi filled in the blanks to ground his wandering mind. “Cold?” His hands brushed yours on the way to the bottom of the garment. Levi bunched fists in his fabric and lifted it effortlessly up, over, off his head - as he wanted to do all those hours ago. Pent-up relief, he thrust his shirt to you and offered, “Could’ve just asked.”

You were right all along. All along, those loose button-up shirts had covered a chiseled body. He must have been curling with arms like that. A pull-up bar on the back of his bedroom door, how many repetitions did it take to get these muscles? Your eyes scanned every inch of him but could find not one flaw. Your lips were moving, but words failed to emerge. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, to tell him, but only one came through. You received his gift gingerly and muttered, “Thanks.”

This was a moment you had distantly fantasized over for years. Turns out, this was even better than you dreamed. His shirt carried a garden of mint, lavender, and tea leaves in its scent. In putting it on, you felt that you gained a glimpse into Eden. The fabric was satin soft and sheer thin. In watching you wear it, Levi felt in the presence of an angel. It highlighted the curves he loved and introduced him to ones he had never noticed before. Brows narrowed, pupils dilated in his gaze - concerned and deviant. The straight cut forced your waist and hips to confine. The small-pattern chest was clearly never meant to accommodate a body like yours. Threads were spread taut by your cleavage, nearly torn apart as they strained to cover you. In his eyes, he thought it fit you perfectly. 

Arms finally through the sleeves. Beneath them, your hairs stood on end. Again, you shivered, but could not pinpoint why. It did not take the shiver, though, to convey your state. Your erect points stood above all. Levi looked to you with both pity and admiration, his voice their lovechild: “Look at you.”

You simmered, embarrassed yet teasing, “Looking isn't helping.” You crossed your arms before your chest and bundled yourself together, “If you really care -”

He did.

“- then do something about it.”

Unfolding the quilt from the foot of the bed, turning up the room’s temperature - those were the most straightforward solutions. But Levi was not thinking straight, and he had a feeling that was what you wanted. Slowly, Levi sifted his arm behind your shoulders, when you snuggled in, he sealed his wrap with a hand at your side. 

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze descended to meet yours. Likewise, you raised your gaze to meet. Painfully aware that this was a first for the both of you - neither his passion nor your arousal would shut up about it. At the same time, watching you shiver reminded him of all the times he had silently substituted your needs. Behind on work, you never asked for assistance, but would hurriedly throw things his way if Levi offered his help. When your car wouldn’t start that one winter day, who knows how long you would’ve paced in the parking lot had he not pulled his sedan beside yours and given you a jump? A sharp pang seized his heart in realization: he thought you were close, and now you were physically there, yet you still were not comfortable enough to ask him for anything - even though you both wanted it.

“Y’know,” his thumb rubbed your shoulder, “you should learn to just ask for what you want.” 

Indeed, 2 AM haze was shrouding his awareness, too - particularly his self-awareness. Was it not him who steeped your tea in the mornings and tidied your desk before he left each night? He could have - should have - just asked you out all those times. How much sooner would this night have come if he had? Levi swore to live without regrets, but that did not stop him from acknowledging the opportunities he had missed thus far. He tossed you the takeaway he wished he had learned long ago: “Makes things a lot easier.”

At first, you thought he was chastising you. The stern monotone of his voice could chill you to the bone at times, but when you took in his expression, you felt warm all over. His brows were not knit, but perched in a tender lift. His breaths were not terse, like when he got annoyed, but slow and calm. At the same time, though, you could feel his heart pounding hard, could hear it when you placed your ear over his chest. Clouded moonlight softened those hardlined features, and again, you wondered if this was your first night together or actually your honeymoon: wasn’t this kind of pillow talk reserved for spouses alone?

A deep swallow, and the last time you checked yourself. Could he have looked any more genuine? Any more readable? Transparent? You didn’t think so. For the man of few words, this was all but an admission of his feelings for you, and it was the best look you had ever seen on him. His advice, his command, invited you to try that outfit on.

“Practice with me?”

One slight nod, so slight - you knew no one would have noticed it but you. In that, you felt your confidence soar, pulling the words from your heart to the air between you both, “Hold me tighter?”

He did.

“Pull me closer?”

He did.

“And kiss me already.”

Levi could not describe it, the feeling that overcame him when he heard your demand. Proud of you. Relieved. At peace yet exhilarated. The serenity that all was right in the world, yet the anticipation of what he had wanted all along. The nature of the kiss aligned with the latter. For two agonizing seconds, he examined you. Assured by the sight of your smile, he longed to taste it for himself. Thumb pressed to the curve of your chin, index finger perched under it, slowly yet with unwavering passion - that was the way Levi brought your lips together. 

Soft, as he expected. Expert, as you had. Initial contact was delicate, the warmup slow. Levi always went so hard at everything he did, held such a sharp tongue, which was why the way he brushed against you made your heart stop. You knew strength to be his greatest, most innate feature, and therefore you deciphered that this tenderness was a display of exertion. Levi showed no signs of struggle, though. Touch-starved for you, yet his lips chose to waltz rather than tango. His hand on your chin drifted to the back of your neck. Nape cupped in his palm, he used that leverage to drift you here and there, allowing him to taste all of you - encouraging you to do the same with him. 

Levi tasted like peppermint, the brand so sharp that it made you sneeze now and then, he had learned after enough lunch breaks. You tasted like cinnamon, the stick that baristas stuck in his chai come the colder months. When your tongues met, they created a new taste. After minutes of exchange, they became addicted to it. Their craving demanded all efforts in that search: Levi’s grip pulled you closer, you threw an arm over his back. Breaths turned to gasps, a wordless understanding of all you would do for the other: grab his mail on the way in, walk you to your car at night, and kiss until you were out of breath.

The thought had never crossed your mind, but his actions disintegrated it - the possibility that this was some selfish, opportunistic spell. Levi was nearly shaking with anticipation, his erection pained with neglect, but that did not influence his pace. Each time you thought the makeout might end, he would catch his breath with “pretty girl…” before joining you once again. His kiss was lovely, as was the spark at your middle, but his ardor was gas to your flame, and before you knew it, you were ablaze. You found your body rise against his, pushing off the mattress, and rolling to grind against the friction of his rigid figure. Levi was everything you ever wanted, and maybe you were just that desperate or just that greedy - the fact that you needed more. He wouldn’t have you any other way.

You thought twice before breaking from the kiss, one last deep plunge of your tongue to his throat before pulling away, conscious to savor the taste. “Levi…” you sighed.

A string of saliva hung between you, the clean freak calmly closed his fist over it, and you felt yourself shudder again, “can we keep practicing?”

His lips were one degree north of flat, about as big of a smile as anyone would see on Ackerman. Tonight, just the two of you here, it felt inexplicably, particularly special. “Make love to me.”

An advanced learner, you always went the extra mile. Back then, Levi had no doubt, it was the reason you had been promoted so quickly. Now, it was that you had aced the first lesson and jumped to the next: no longer asking, demanding already. Sentimental was not a feeling he knew, but proof that you were this comfortable with him was indeed something. 

His praise reflected that feeling back onto you, “That’s right, good girl.” The back of his hand brushed unruly strands from your face. A kiss on your forehead rewarded, “like that.”

Once more, he pressed his lips to yours, but it was not even a second that he stayed - just a starting point to the journey that was exploring your body. Lips slid to the corner of your mouth, down your jawline, neck, then chest. A trail of hickeys and teeth grazes was left - tomorrow’s meetings and your professionalism having vanished from his mind. His hands joined the excursion: one gentle yet relishing in its caress of your neck, the other crawled up your - his - shirt. The familiar texture of his old garment contrasted with the novel feel of your skin. Muscles twitched with satisfaction, disrupting the fluidity of his motions, but you found beauty in the unpredictability of his touch. Rose-colored lenses were blind to the signs of his weakness, instead chalking those movements up to Levi’s expertise. As you tipped your head back and sighed, Levi figured it was the first misunderstanding that had done you two any good tonight. 

On his descent, he could not help but take a stop at your breasts. Turns out, it was never just his imagination, but given your curvature, of course your buttons would have been stretched to contain you. Those blouses had been his guilty favorite for that very reason, but his tight t-shirt was taking a close second. No, that slip you wore when you joined him in the bathroom, that must’ve been the best, right? Blood rushed, pupils dilated, his body anxious for a visual refresher.

You were going faster than he could have hoped. Already, he was proud of you for having graduated to demands. Now, you had learned to act on your own - either having read his mind or listening to your own desires. Levi could not decide which possibility he preferred, but when you lifted your top and perched it at your clavicle, he was ashamed to admit that his mind had discarded all other affairs. 

Levi nestled his cheek in your cleavage, and though you were over a thousand miles away, he felt he was at home. Warm pillows cupped him, and both of you felt that the space was made for him to fill. Levi’s breath was hot on your skin, yet your nipples appeared as though you were in a winter wilderness. Of course, he took notice in all your details, and sighed in mutual enamor, “Fuck, baby…” 

It was a tone you had never heard in his voice before. Desperation and desire in a man so ever assured and disinterested, you felt your panties drip from damped to soaked. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You, too, was what you thought to say, but somehow, the word seemed inadequate. His body was artwork: a symmetric abdomen, muscular forearms, veins that stood against his skin, you longed to trace him as such. Bangs that fell perfectly imperfectly over his face, begging that you run your fingers through them: mess with them now, gel them straight in the morning. You could slice paper on that jawline, could get lost in his eyes. No matter how long you stared, and stared you had, Levi was like the sunset: even after a hard day, always breathtakingly gorgeous.

Especially with the perspective you had now. One hand cupped your waist, the other your breast, perching you into his mouth, eye contact deliberately maintained throughout his movements.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Levi’s tongue swirled your nipple before his lips audibly slurped. “To get what you want…” 

Again, the fog of the nameless hours between night and day had blinded him to the relevance his words had to himself. How long had he wanted this? How good did it feel? He had no verbal answer for it, only the fervor of his actions: sprightly tongue and rocks of his hips. As you always had, you filled his gaps: while he could not fathom the words, yours overflowed. 

“Oh, Levi… Fuck, Levi…!” your desperate cries of his name made him leak onto the hotel sheets, no longer pristine. Your harsh exhales ran currents through his hair, and suddenly, it seemed you two had traded temperatures. Now, he was the one shivering while you sweat through the shirt. For his fever, he craved one antidote. Crawling down your body, his approach to the medicine cabinet. He prepared to ask for his dosage.

“My turn.”

Huh? 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and took a good look. A good look: Levi had wedged himself between your legs. Fingers caressed your thighs with a precise pressure, a touch that tickled in a way that made you want more, yet was strong enough that he could push your hips to the mattress and pry your legs apart. You had to bunch your fists and rub your eyes to check, maybe 3 AM was just fucking with you. 

Levi read your search for reassurance and inserted conviction into his tone. His stare and voice unwavering, “Can I taste you?”

Yeah, 3 AM was definitely fucking with you, for this was too good to be true. His sharp chin dwindled above the soft of your sex. His gaze set on your soul. Both of you agreed: his hands had never felt so calloused until they met your smooth thighs. It was a dream you would have woken up thankful to have had bestowed on you, but the grip he had on you was so perpetually undeniable: this was real. Head spinning, mind raced to catch up, yet Levi’s wait was so astonishingly still. Levi knew he would make you feel good. Based on your state, it seemed he was already doing that. Now, you just had to say yes, but he would not push you towards any one answer, nor would he do anything more until you arrived at it. If you wanted it, you had to ask for it, sweetheart.

A flood of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one screaming over the other, you felt you were drowning. In your search for stability, you relied on your sense of sight: Levi Ackerman between your legs. What the fuck are you waiting for? 

“Y’Yes, Levi.” You reached down and held his forehead. As you brushed his bangs from his face, he offered another half-smile, but it was brief, for he was past the point of eager. Still, the calm in his pace remained. Slowly, his hands snaked from the backs of your thighs to the sides of your hips. Thumbs hooked between the straps of your panties and your skin. His fingers clenched over them, bringing the garment past your knees, down your shins, and off your ankles. From chest to toes, you were now entirely exposed. At first, you wrangled with embarrassment, but his infatuation was your comfort. Hunger seized his vision, thirst drove his actions. You had nothing to be afraid of. 

His earlier route, lips to neck, neck to chest, chest to torso, was now mirrored. Levi cupped your heels in his hand and lifted your feet, allowing him to plant kisses up and up your legs, drags of his tongue followed to connect the dots. Minutes gone by, and even after having pocketed your consent, he still had yet to put his mouth there. Spending time to appreciate your thighs, he wanted you to know how long he had been anticipating this, and now that he had finally landed his spot, he would be damn sure to save the best bite for last. 

Left arm wrapped around your thigh, Levi nestled his head against it, allowing his perspective to stay sound on your sex. His right hand trailed from your knee to your middle, and at last, you knew he was getting started. At first, it was his fingertips, and at that mere first touch came your sudden awakening as to how dire your desire had grown. Your hands flew back and clutched your pillow, Levi admired the tendons that rose in your wrist, and your voice, “A’Ahh!!” 

He shot one glance up to check on you, but the look on your face ensured you were more than okay. With that, he decided to repeat the pattern of his rubs. Index and middle finger paired as they rode the sliver between your lips, your arousal slickened his knuckles. Once wet enough, he would split his digits into a V, each one taking responsibility for one of your folds. When that friction ran dry, he would return to your core, a seemingly never-ending source of lubrication, to run the process back again. You should not have been surprised, for everything with him was purposed - in the office or in the bedroom. With your interior and exterior in a coat of your own clear, he would have the freedom to run his mouth, no need to lick his lips or garner more saliva. Years of anticipation, now that the moment had arrived, he was going to spend the extra seconds to make sure this went according to plan.

Your glisten was so thorough, looking at you, Levi swore he could see his own weak reflection, the blush on his cheeks, the sweat on his forehead. In that way, his plunge was accelerated: preferring to trade the sight of his unruly state for the taste of you. Lips circled to match your curves, and you quickly identified this as a familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place. Levi was kissing you with the same tenderness he had displayed in your makeout, only now, he was between your legs. His jaw stretched wide to ensure he could reach every inch, from the top of your cleft, along your crescent sides, and to the spot where they rejoined. With his mouth in control, he let his hands indulge in your body, adorned upon your delectable waist, light squeezes of your ass, and massaging the divots of your inner thighs. His lips practiced that motion with a goal of perfection. Meanwhile, his tongue distracted you from any signs of his learning. Slow, purposed drags from bottom to top made your love pool on the tip of his tongue - each accumulation swallowed with a satisfied groan. Levi’s oral was pristine, only an occasional slurp and smack, allowing both of your vocals to take the stage. Your sky-high gasps, his low and satiated moans. He lived for the moments you would syllabize his name “Le-vi…” His “there you go” always followed, implicitly begging for more.

His neck began to bob in support of his movements. With that came a whole new level of pressure and slate of angles. His sharp nose slanted against your curves, lovely opposite to your soft. Your scent and your taste moved mountains within him, and in that, he noticed: his emotional pull was just as strong as his physical. All his life, he had grown to love bitter tastes, perhaps because they had been force fed to him. You were the first cube of sugar to have landed in his drink. Now, he had honey straight from the source. Levi felt his erection press hard against the mattress, “Fuck…” he whined, “you taste so good.”

Breath caught in your throat, all you could manage was a light sigh. As your lips twitched, he generously helped, taking the words right out of your mouth. “You have no idea…no idea -” Levi moaned, “how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.”

At those words alone, you felt you might climax right then. Had he been eavesdropping on your dreams? How did he know that you had been fantasizing over that exact sentence for an unspeakable amount of time? “Me - Me too, Levi…” 

Your admission was even sweeter, lifting his feelings from indulgence to fulfillment. All the nights he had spent awake, wondering if you were thinking of him the way he was of you, your confession was confirmation that this had been requited all that time. Levi found it both gratifying and maddening: gratifying to have discovered that your feelings were mutual, maddening how many years had gone by until that discovery. Levi grew determined to make up for all that time, revenge reflected in the acceleration of his actions.

Levi shoved his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you into a shameless, unhideable angle. Good thing, he mused, no more hiding. Shoulders propped at your midthigh, keeping you perched apart. Fingers wrapped around your skin, he pulled you down the bed and crashed you onto his face. Your gasp was exhausted as you tried to keep up. Both of you knew, though: you were no match. As his tongue thrust to unfathomable depths, you likewise could not conjure any idea of how to withstand this. Nose rubbed against your swollen bud, brows narrowed in determination, he looked nearly angry. Working hard for your climax, harder than he had for anything else, even his own. 

Shit…!

If this keeps up…

A telltale tide turned in your tummy, spasms sparkled along your legs. Fingernails pierced the pillowcase, fighting off your impending loss of control. You could not delay it, not unless he - You fisted your hand in his hair, and he thought this was it. Instead, you pushed him away. “L’Le-vi…” a series of rapid pants, “hah, hah, ho’ld… on!” 

His tongue flattened still. Between the vertex of your legs, his steel attention rose to you. Not anxious, but concerned, You alright? 

“I, I want -”

At those words, he once again simmered with pride, thankful you had taken his ask for what you want to heart. After a few more breaths, you managed the minimum composure to plead, “I wanna cum with you.” 

Levi’s first thought was one of generosity, you know you can have - I can give you - more than one, right? But he knew you better, and he knew what you meant. You wanted your first to be with him, and though he was parched with thirst, desperate for the taste of your cum in his mouth, your wants were foremost his. With a deep, patient breath, he watched your twitches slow to still. When the threat of your orgasm vanished, he calmly laid one final kiss to your core, etching your taste into his memory. His silver stare swallowed you down, a mental polaroid of your pose. His palm massaged your sex in physical praise, promising that he would never make you wait again, and that he’d definitely make you cum next time.

He started to ascend back up your body, but you flung yourself forward and met him halfway. Brows arched in shock, his eyes widened briefly, you closed them with another kiss. Mint flavor of before had been washed away by the taste of you. Further evidence of his devotion, you desired to prove that you were just as committed to him. You hooked your elbow to his nape and threaded fingers through his undercut - your turn to pull him here and there, granting yourself the freedom to explore the parts of him that you had always wanted to. Most of all, the length growing harder and harder to ignore. 

Still, you were conscious to withhold your rush. You endeavored to slow your pace so that you could match the one he had performed on you. How good it felt - he deserved to feel it, too. You ran your hands down his chest the way rain slid down a windshield. Levi felt his boxers turn wet when your palms pressed upon his pecs, the buds of your hands kneading his tender patches. His exhales turned crackly, his inhales uneven. Laying kisses on each of his abs, down and down his torso, your contact held the compliments you were too shy to say. He heard them and reciprocated them: arm wrapped around your waist, bruises where his fingertips pressed - he hoped they would stay till morning, and that when you saw them, you would remember the love he had shown you tonight 

Finally, you dipped your fingertips below his waistband. Sweat glazed his hips, allowing you to slide your hands in, but at this point, there was not much room for you. His erection had taken all his threads had to offer. You spared him the begging, sliding his cotton down his outstretched legs and finally releasing him from their confinement. Soaked in his own anticipation, veins visible, his arc steep. The shade of his member matched the one of his cheeks: the pink of a vulnerable blush, the crimson of ardent lust. As he watched you watch him, another dribble of clear dripped down his length. Levi grit his teeth and cursed. From stifling heat to cool air, that drench turned from comforting to exhilarating. In the wake of his tried swears, you gently cupped your hand around his girth and cleaned him as best as you could, spreading the leakage of his tip down to his base - his shaft your path. Contrast to his stress, you soothed him as you always had, just a different context this time. 

It was his turn to cling to the sheets. Hands clawed into the comforter, you watched without shame, enchanted by the way his forearms flexed. Heels ground to the mattress, toes curled in sheets. Each motion was accompanied by either a sharp inhale or short exhale. Was it sadistic or considerate of you to keep pumping him despite that? 

Levi loathed the way he stuttered through your name, on the other hand, you adored it. Levi cupped the back of your head in his hand and tugged your ear to his lips. His breath was hot on your cusp, yet somehow, it sent chills through you. Your sex had landed atop his lap, his cock nestled between your folds, still wet from his prior excursion. Pleasure had him growling, the look in his eyes both commanding and desperate, “Let me take you.”

Obliging and insisting: as one, you leaned back and he pressed forward. Your head landed atop the plump pillow, his hand beside it. Before you could blink, he had plummeted onto your lips again. This kiss was so opposite of all prior: his tongue demanding entrance, grazes of his teeth, and bites of your lip, loud and messy. You had cut Levi Ackerman to his last thread of composure, that was where you had always wanted him.

And this was how he had always wanted you: your most unabashed, honest, purest and filthiest self. He always found it so painfully obvious, how much you strained to stay prim and proper, polite and professional at work. It was why he lived for the times you slipped up: an eye roll in meetings, the long sigh after a conference call. Levi knew that the real you was there, and now you were here: in this shared bed with his shadow cast over your skin. 

There was just one thing, though, that differed from his expectations. Desire was painted on each of your features, but they were glossed in nerves. Twitches in your lip, rattle in your lungs, eyes glistening, he feared they were tears. You cinched your hand around his wrist, and he recognized that smile. It was the kind you donned when you spilled your coffee or showed up late. Adorable, but unassured, and that would not do in this context.

“You’re nervous.” Levi did not ask you, for he knew his intuition was accurate. “Wanna stop?”

You shook your head and insisted vehemently, “No.” With a tilt of your chin and arch of your back, your lips brushed his with each word you spoke. Seeped down his throat, understanding swallowed: “I want to start.”

Levi returned your characteristic smile with one of his own. Tipping your foreheads together, “You’ll let me know if you change your mind.”

An order or a question? Either way, your heart scoffed at the idea. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? There was no chance in hell you would change your mind.

“Or if it gets too much.”

That, there was a chance of. It had taken him mere minutes between your legs to bring you to the point of screaming and to the brink of climax, but that was what you wanted. His consideration fed you calm, you fed him reassurance. The flicker in your gaze settled, meeting his of solid steel. You tucked his bangs behind his ear and affirmed, “I’m ready, Levi.”

Fronts pressed, heartbeats matching, there was only one connection left to make. By the grips of his hands on the backs of your shoulders, Levi pulled himself those last crucial inches, and closed that final gap. His tip slick with precum, your slit dripping with anticipation, yet accommodating him was no easy fit. He had spent all that time down there with the goal of making it easy on you, but watching your face scrunch and hearing your voice whine was not half bad, either. 

In fact, he had not even made it halfway in yet, and you were already writhing. Levi bit the inside of his cheek and knit his brows, careful not to push you too hard, conscious for signs of your apprehension. You sensed his wavering and clawed his back, pulling yourself further down his length.

Looking up, his expression was strained. Reaching new depths, pushing past your initial walls, his voice poured exertion. Still, he did not stop pushing. Toes arched into the mattress, calves flexed with each labored drive. Each fuck brought the two of you closer. For him, one more inch of his length. For you, one more stretch of pleasure. For the couple, a proximity you had always wanted. Each of you felt a tremendous responsibility to be the one to close that distance.

Repetition after repetition, his muted grunts melted to audible groans. The air between you was no longer saturated by your gasps alone, but his as well. His strain was the only thing that could ground you from nirvana and back down to earth. Despite his squint, he caught that transition: from the throes of sensation to the snap back to reality, all because you were concerned for his well-being. More than any sense of pleasure, your affection was what made his heart pound in his chest. Doe eyes gazed upon him, You okay?

After a series of hahs and ahs, Levi managed just a couple words, “It feels - It feels…”

Good? Bad? Your heart tensed in anticipation. Pleading and ordering, “Tell me, Levi.” 

Knuckles tight, fingers trembling, “...good!” Levi clenched his teeth and pulled himself forward with an aim of backing his words with his actions. After struggling to past your entrance, the force of this fuck brought his tip to your end, drawing shrieks from you and shock from him. Strength of his magnitude had pros and cons, he supposed. His flaws, you deemed them his perfections.

The damp of your cunt was audible, resounding throughout the room. You found yourself at an impossible choice: which was more embarrassing, your voice or your sex? Levi’s thought was similar and opposite, the same choices, just which was better? Levi decided that their symphony was best, and realized he could turn up its volume if he accelerated his pace. 

“Levi, Levi…!” To say his name came naturally, practically a swear word: the satisfaction of cursing after injury or mistake, so wrong yet so right to scream it out loud. 

Pleasurable pain when he hit your weakest points, a delightful exercise as your walls stretched to accommodate him. His eyes remained set on your face, ears tuned to your voice, translating your body language into instructions. Rapid thrusts to make you pant, but only until you started to choke on your own gasps. Then, he would decelerate, replacing speed with strength. When he filled you up, you would sigh and roll your eyes back. To Levi, that was the sign to dial it back up and get you there. 

Since this started, his read on you had been perfectly accurate. You were almost there. Simultaneously yet unknowingly, your inner voices warned: you won’t last much longer. The thing was, you didn’t want to, for you had endured so much already. The heat in your middle was unbearable now. Each nerve had been fried to its last end. This sex had gone on for hours, but your yearning had been years long. In your haze, you were blind towards any reason to deny yourself any longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist and relied on your calves to pull him closer. Bringing him to your end made Levi approach his. “Fuck…!” His voice was a low singsong, an adult lullaby. “(Y/N), (Y/N)...!” No longer a choice between deep or fast, Levi somehow managed both. Physiology threatened to overrule now. No, already…!

“(Y/N), I…I’m - ! ” His mind was racing now. Should he ask to cum or tell you he was? Should he withdraw so that you could get there first? Levi labored to open his eyes, looking to you for an answer. His senses of sight and touch told him: you were already there.

The pulsation around his cock, the steep arch of your spine, your parted lips and blissed-out face. The scrape of your nails down his back, ignorant to the possibility of hurting him. This was how Levi had always wanted it: to be the one you clung to, to offer himself when you were overwhelmed. Count on me. The orgasm that overwhelmed you now, that had been his doing, right?

Once again, it was as if you had read his mind. Without him having to ask, you answered: “Levi, Levi!!” Your hands squeezed him tight, white patches beneath your fingertips. Clinging to him, the life raft through each of your waves. “Y’Yours… I’m yours…” 

He had gifted you tissues for your crying spells at work, had picked up your lunch on the way back from break, but this provision was far preferable, much more fulfilling. Even as you turned his skin red, even as your legs clenched him and squeezed air from his lungs - no, even better - those were precisely the motions that pushed him over the edge. 

One hand clutched the top of the headboard, tight enough that you heard the wood wince. The other caressed your face with feathered tenderness. In that difference, you were once again reminded of his duality: on one hand, a hardass, but for you, a soft spot. Those dimensions were reflected in his voice, too: swears that made your ears burn and groans that turned the air heavy, yet arid gasps that lifted your soul and praise fit for a princess. While your cunt had run raw and slippery from his fucking, his warm cum filled you and soothed your stings. 

As you both came to, Levi lingered inside, patiently waiting until each of your waves crashed - savoring them. With a deep swallow and a delicate nod, he ensured he would handle your aftercare. Kleenex from the nightstand folded and padded against your sex. You sat up in panic, worried about the clean freak’s reaction, but he seemed particularly satisfied. Maybe it wasn’t that he hated filth, but that he loved clean-up. You bit your lip and bit back a smile, believing that the sex tonight had evidenced that.

Though his aftercare was doing much for your affection, it did pathetically little when it came to cleanliness. Both of you realized, not even the entire box would be enough. Levi looked at the wad of tissues in his hand, shook his head, and scowled, nearly laughing at the ineffectiveness. “We’re filthy.” 

Slowly, you made your way to his side. Carefully, you reached your arms around his back. Wrapped within your grasp, you leaned him back against your chest and whispered into his ear, “Good thing there’s a shower.”

Levi spun just enough to meet your eye contact, once again checking to see if he had heard you right. Three hours ago, he would have defaulted towards the no, always having believed one could not be let down if they did not get their hopes up. Over the years and especially tonight, your optimism was swaying that opinion. Your sound smile and unafraid stare confirmed: after all that mess, you were also keen for cleanliness. In post-coital clarity, he saw how stupid he had been to wait this long, and Levi almost said those three sacred words right then and there. 

But this was only the first night of the trip.

And the first day of the rest of your lives.

// masterlist //

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

In the face of recent news about our beloved Destiny, I think it’s more important than ever for us as a community to come together and support each other in numerous ways.

It’s been a very hard week for all of us, especially those who lost their jobs and outlet for their passion in mass lay offs. Losing a position that allowed you to craft magnificent stories alongside some of the most ambitious people in the gaming industry, especially in worrying economic circumstances, must be excruciating to deal with and I wish the best for all those laid off from Bungie.

For us fans, it hurts more than anything to see the game you care so much for get put in headlines for how little that care is shared amongst the people responsible for making decisions on it. I’ve been into Destiny since it first dropped, making it the love of my life for nearly two-thirds of my whole existence , and to hear about how it’s just another product to be sold when it’s everything and more to me is just despairing. I wanted to become a writer and concept artist to create a game for others that made them feel as cared for as I did when I played Destiny and now I’m sitting here seeing all the people who helped foster that feeling be treated as another expenditure.

It’s awful, a lot of us are feeling really uninspired and betrayed at the moment, not sure we even want to see what will happen to this masterpiece of a game in the hands of the current executives. We are also dearly missing the developers, artists, writers, and more who made Destiny more than a fps looter shooter.

But it is times like these where we are torn and confused that we must uplift one another and not let the bitter taste of Bungie’s actions make us speak with hostility. This is not about decisions on whether to support Bungie or the actual game, but about refocusing on what truly makes Destiny enjoyable to so many.

Its world is immersive with care put into every story and that clearly shows in just how eager fans are to create masterpieces for it. It was never playing the game or the notoriety that kept me coming back for more, but the joy of creation I could share with others.

It stings to see a disinterest in nursing the potential of the Destiny universe from the executives with motivations other than monetary gain, but when the executives won’t care, we can. There are still employees at Bungie who adore their work and we can continue to support them by speaking up against horrible industry practices and show that we won’t abandon their efforts to make Destiny what it is.

Make ocs, write fanfictions, follow the former employees wherever they go, draw til your heart is overflowing, join Discords, roleplay, share headcanons, create aus with friends, do whatever keeps Destiny alive and flourishing for you!

Destiny will never die to me, even when it’s long forgotten and the servers shut down, because Destiny made me who I am and I intend to repay that gift an infinite amount of times over. The characters and universe will be alive and well to me until I die, regardless of the fate of the game and Bungie.

So go out and prove that Destiny’s themes of the power of community and hope are more than just morals behind a screen, that they are life changing messages that we will carry on despite hopeless news!!

Reblog charming artists, message people about ships you enjoy, leave questions and tags that contribute to conservations, write essays about what Destiny means to you!!

My messages and inbox for questions are always open if anyone would like to talk (I’m trying to get better at answering them, even if they are months late)! You are all welcome here and I want to start reblogging and liking more freely even if those things scare me sometimes!

We can decide our fates and we can decide the fate of Destiny’s presence in our lives as well! We can choose to care when others won’t and refuse to make our enjoyment debatable!! In troubling times, we should be able to reach out into the dark and find hands to hold onto tight!!

[say-al0e]

Body Electric

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Steve has never lived in a home full of noise but he likes to think he'd enjoy spending the rest of his life in one. (AKA Steve Harrington is soft and proposes.) | Ft. Anon Request: "Is that my shirt?" + "We should get married." "Funny." "I'm not joking." (Listen, when I took the requests, I intended to stick to them, even if it's been like two years.) Warnings: Mentions of the Upside Down, some anxiety. Nothing too graphic or heavy. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader (I think it might actually be GN!Reader) Word Count: 2.7k

Faint sounds of life - rain pattering against the windows, falling in sheets; a car starting in the parking lot; music, pouring from a neighbor’s stereo and bleeding through the thin walls; a laugh track, the theme tune to some primetime television show from the apartment next door - never left much room for silence in the small apartment Steve shared with you.

If you listened, waited a few moments with bated breath, you could hear the sounds of a dozen lives being lived without ever leaving the comfort of your own home. It was strange, especially for him, as he’d spent much of his life living in silence.

There were stretches of his memory, days at a time he could recount passing without hearing even the faintest sound of life from another being. Now, nearly every moment was filled with some kind of sound; the noise of neighbors, the noise of the city, the noise of you.

It was new, completely and utterly foreign, but in no way unwelcome.

Steve noticed it before you did. You grew up in a house full of noise; parents who cut on the radio first thing in the morning, just to hear the news, and siblings whose vocabulary lacked the word quiet. He found it harder to allow it all to fade into the background and still startled at the occasional slamming door. Whereas you adjusted quickly, Steve still heard every minute noise just as clearly as he had that first night.

A small part of him - that same part that hoped he never got used to the giddy feeling that still bubbled in the pit of his stomach every time you smiled at him, eyes glittering with a soft fondness he’d never tire of - hoped he would never adjust.

In addition to the noise of your neighbors, the world carrying on around you, Steve could clearly hear you.

The quiet humming in the morning as you dressed for class or work, usually some tune that only existed in your head; the clink of dishes as you made coffee for the both of you, his just the way he’d always liked; the sound of your voice, echoing over the shower as you danced in the bathroom; your soft breathing, quiet hums of content with each plot twist; the rustle of paper, pages flipping as you spent your night reading.

Steve was able to hear each sound you made, no matter how quiet, and reveled in the noise.

Every moment that he spent with you, in the small apartment surrounded by a dozen other lives, was one he was grateful for. And though the television played low in the background, volume never raising much higher out of respect for your neighbors - something he’d never had to consider before, something that secretly made him smile - he couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to watch. There’d been a reason he wanted it on, but you were more interesting, anyway.

He rested with his head on your lap, cradled by the plush of your thighs, and watched as you flipped through the yellowed pages of a book you’d picked up earlier in the week. He couldn’t read the title - it was upside down and the spine was cracked, the perks of choosing well-loved secondhand books - but you were enamored and that was enough for him. It would soon be added to the little shelf in the corner of the living room, already overflowing with titles you devoured steadily, but the realization only made him smile as your lips pursed in concentration.

There were moments Steve hated interrupting, blissful seconds where the weight of the world no longer rested on your shoulders. Others, however, he just couldn’t help himself. As happy as he was for you both to exist in your own worlds, there were moments he was desperate to recapture your attention and remind yourself that you were his.

As such, he felt little guilt as he shifted and turned his full attention to you.

Soft fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, rubbed at the worn cotton idly, and Steve’s warm brown eyes met yours when you spared him a moment of attention. “Is that my shirt?”

“Our shirt.” Steve laughed, easily amused by the same reply you’d been giving him for years, any time he pointed out you wearing his clothes. “I think I’m allowed to wear it. We both graduated from Hawkins High,” you reminded him - as if he needed it. He regularly regretted not meeting you sooner, not paying attention to you when you both roamed the halls of Hawkins High.

Either way, he was glad that he managed to find his way to you in the end.

“Sure,” he agreed easily, happily. “But you could wear your own. I saw another gym shirt in the dresser. What’re you reading?”

“Not as soft as yours,” you reasoned, as if it made perfect sense. And who was he to argue? He would’ve happily given up his shirts if it meant seeing you like this - soft, relaxed, content. Before he could even consider mentioning that, making the moment sappy, you hummed. “I Sing the Body Electric!. It’s a bunch of short stories,” you explained, dropping one hand to card through his hair, tough light as you worked your fingers through the freshly washed strands. “There’s one, the same title as the book, that was a Twilight Zone episode. I think you’d like it.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled. He’d never much cared for science fiction, despite your love for it, and always felt a little left out when you and Eddie began your deep dives into the meaning of episodes. He’d never managed to make it all the way through an episode and was skeptical as he asked, “What makes you think that?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “it’s just nice. It’s about a family. After the mom dies, they build this robot grandma. The daughter hates her, hates everyone because she thinks her mom left her, and refuses to love her. Then, the grandma saves her. It seems like she’s dead but she comes back and the little girl realizes she can’t leave her so she starts loving again.”

“Nice?” Steve tipped his head to get a better look at you, brows furrowed. “Jesus, babe, that sounds kind of awful. Like, horror movie stuff.” His face scrunched as he attempted to think, considering the few horror movies he’d seen and managed to retain. “Oh, like that one with the guy who puts people in his basement,” he exclaimed.

“There’s a bunch of horror movies where a guy puts people in his basement.” When Steve raised his brows, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Point made,” you conceded. “But, still. It’s a bad description, maybe. It’s, like,” you paused for a moment, thumb marking your place in the book as you considered. “You go through a lot of shit and build up these walls because you’ve been hurt. Then someone comes in, goes through it all with you, and starts to chip away at the walls. Then, they get hurt and you start to realize what they mean to you. And when they come back to you, it makes you realize that you don’t want to deal with life without them. It’s, like, poetic, or something.”

“Poetic,” Steve mumbled, agreeable. His entire body warmed at the sentiment, even as he teasingly asked, “Are you reading into it?”

“I could be.” Your fingers continued to card through his hair, touch gentle as his gaze grew softer. “We’ve been through a lot of shit together, Harrington,” you reminded him, though there was no need. He remembered every moment vividly. “You didn’t believe in love anymore and I didn’t like you very much until you saved me from becoming demodog food. Guess it’s nice to think that even with all the shit we went through, something good came of it.”

Steve knew that nostalgia wan’t the right word, not when considering the hell Hawkins put you through. But he fond himself grateful for it, just the same. When he considered his life, where he might be if he’d never stumbled upon scenes out of his worst nightmares, he wondered if he’d have the life loved so much without the hell you both went through.

As much as you teased him for being a secret romantic, he liked to think he would. In any universe, in any timeline, he liked to think he would’ve found you. Eventually, anyway.

That was a declaration he’d made before, under the cover of darkness after a nightmare or two, and he knew you felt the same. He also knew that the moment wasn’t right, not when you were looking down with a soft smile reserved just for him.

So, instead of declaring that you were the best thing he’d ever been lucky enough to find, he softly urged, “Read to me.”

Despite your rumination on why he’d enjoy the book, you knew Steve. Science fiction wasn’t his favorite and he’d likely be out in a matter of moments. He could see the surprise, your brows winging up, as you asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he encouraged as he brushed his fingers over your exposed thigh. “There’s nothing good on,” he teased, though you both knew he’d settled onto the couch with the intention of watching something or other. “Might as well.”

Whatever it was he’d planned on watching was completely lost, entirely out of mind - and he knew he’d only remember what it was when someone inevitably asked him what he thought of it. There wasn’t a single moment of hesitation as he turned off the television, plunging the apartment into the only sort of quiet you could get, and glanced up at you expectantly.

As you’d done a hundred times before, you picked a page and started to read. The story itself was never very important. Steve was used to being dropped into the middle of your favorite books, just because he wanted to hear your voice. 

There were nights where you read him Tolkien, Bradbury, Orwell, and a plethora of others he could never name. There was science fiction and fantasy, romance and mystery, fiction and non. He’d heard at least a portion of nearly every book on the shelf because on the nights when there was nothing on, when the anxiety you both learned to live with settled a little too heavy on his chest, when he just wanted to be selfish and drown himself in your attention, you read to him. Your voice filled the apartment, soft and warm as you read from another short story.

Steve tried to pay attention to the words. He wanted to be able to discuss it with you, to have the kinds of conversations you had with Robin or with Eddie about symbolism and meaning, but he found his attention drifting.

It wasn’t that he had no interest. Though he couldn’t discuss relevant social themes in The Twilight Zone or which horror franchise was better, he wanted nothing more than to hear your opinion on the matter. He’d never read Bradbury on his own but usually found himself enthralled when you read it to him. 

All he wanted was to live in that moment forever. To lie there, in the safety and comfort of your shared apartment with your voice washing over him; he was certain that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

The thought had plagued him for month - years, really, as he’d known you were the one the moment you followed him into the depths of hell to protect a ragtag group of children - but marriage was always a fantasy. The moment hadn’t been right. He’d rehearsed the speech a dozen times, pictured what the ring might look like, where he might take you to pop the question.

It was almost agonizing, wondering when the perfect moment might strike, when you would both be ready to step into the future. But he realized that there was nothing technically “perfect” in your lives. From the moment you met, life was chaos and that was part of the appeal.

There would never be a perfect moment but he knew that nothing would feel as right as that moment, lying on the couch, with your fingers tangled in his hair as you lounged in his stolen gym shirt.

Without allowing himself to think too hard, he hummed, “We should get married.”

The words were spoken casually, as if he were commenting on the weather or the story you were reading to him. It was easy, completely concealed the heavy thud of his heart and the overwhelming noise blaring in his mind - the little voice yelling that he should’ve waited, he should’ve made it perfect. 

For a brief moment, your fingers stilled in his hair. It wasn’t the first time Steve broached the subject, however, it was the first time he phrased it that way. Like he was looking for an answer, a reply, a decision.

Then, you continued carding through the soft strands as you hummed. “Funny.”

“I’m not joking.” He lifted a hand, carefully removed yours from his hair, before he sat up and turned to face you. The look on your face was nearly unreadable, though Steve had spent years practicing. He could see a slight apprehension - not at the idea; he knew you would marry him in a heartbeat, that you’d happily spend the rest of your life with him - and a hint of glimmering excitement, though it was overshadowed by an emotion he couldn’t place. Still, he carried on. “I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“Steve.” The sigh of his name was soft, breathless, and in it he could detect the emotion that darkened your eyes. It was nerves, a residual unease - fear that life was going to well, anything more might leave you both scrambling from long-gone monsters once more.

“I know,” he assured you, voice just as soft as your own - mindful, of your feelings and of the privacy you no longer had. This was a moment for you, to be shared only between the inhabitants of the small apartment, and he was careful to keep quiet as he shifted closer and reached for your hand. “It’s weird,” he began, smiling as he met your eyes. “Some days, I wake up and I wait a few minutes, just to be sure I’m not still in Hawkins. I’m afraid that the last few years have been a dream, that I’m going to get a call any minute that the kids found something completely insane and we’re going to be running for our lives again. But I’m not. It’s over. We’re here and it’s totally scary, thinking that we could be happy, but we could. We could elope,” he offered, smile growing a touch wider when you exhaled and squeezed his hand tight.

“You don’t want a big wedding?” You’d never talked details, only agreed under the cover of soft moonlight that you wanted to be married, that your futures were thoroughly intertwined. “Wear a fancy tux, eat stupidly expensive cake, dance all night?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t really care about any of that,” he admitted. “The important thing is that it’s us. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I’ve known that for a long time. We could go to the courthouse,” he offered, grinning when you laughed. “Robin and Eddie are in this building, the kids have been begging for an excuse to come visit. Us and them, that’s all that matters, right?”

The ragtag family the pair of you had created, a lifelong bond built on a difficult experience, was, indeed, all you needed. Neither of you wanted much more than to spend the rest of your lives together, to be happy and content and enjoy the life you built, so you nodded.

“Yeah,” you agreed, smile mirroring his own as you squeezed his hand. “You’re right. Let’s get married.”

Years ago, neither of you could’ve imagined your future with any degree of accuracy. Living in a small apartment, far from Hawkins and surrounded by the noise of life carrying on, was not something either of you expected. Even less expected was falling in love with one another.

But now that you’d made it, a proposal sealed with a soft kiss and a giddy excitement to look for rings the very next day - after making the call to rally the troops - neither of you could imagine a more perfect future.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I almost got stuck in an elevator today. As someone afraid of elevators, it was pretty terrifying. 0/10, do not recommend.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[taesanluv3r]

latte art

kim leehan x reader

sort of love at first sight? barista!leehan improves his latte art just for his very first customer <3 those concept pics possessed me to write this hehe. super cutesy, i love u leehan! lowercase intended. pls excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors! enjoyyyy

wc: 2,008

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

ding!

the bell above the door rang as it squeaked opened, alerting the handsome barista that was busy setting up his fancy coffee machines for the opening of his tiny café. kim leehan looked up, eyes widening at the figure that turned around to reveal itself- or rather, herself. the most beautiful girl the boy had ever seen in his entire life that would become his very first customer.

"uh...? hello?"

he must've been too into his head, not realizing that the pretty lady had moved from near the door over to stand right in front of him at the register. "huh? oh! hi! um...what can i- uh" he didn't ever expect to stutter this way- especially not when he had already went through every friendly barista greeting the night before this grand opening, but the boy couldn't help it. not when the very first person to enter the shop was this stupidly gorgeous stranger in front of him.

leehan sighs, "i'm so sorry...today's the opening of this place and you're the first customer so..." she giggles, "no worries...i get it" they share a smile. "would you totally hate me if i asked you to walk out and back in again so we can restart this?" he asks, smiling until his eyes formed crescent shapes. the girl laughs, "if you insist"

the scene replays all over again. this time, he was ready to greet her with a friendly smile as she re-entered the café. "hi there! welcome to kim's coffee. what can i get for ya?" the stranger couldn't stop the giggle from escaping her lips, finding the cute barista's sudden bubbly-ness amusing. "hm..." she begins, fingers against her chin as she looked up at the menu on the wall. "well...uh, leehan..." the girl trails off, learning his name from the tag pinned onto his apron. "what do you recommend?"

the way his name fell out naturally from her mouth sent about a gazillion butterflies to roam free in his stomach, a light pink blush brushing against his pale cheeks. "well uh..." he almost stuttered again from the sudden shyness but quickly straightened his back and regained his almost cocky confidence. "for a pretty girl like you...how 'bout our signature cappuccino? i could do some incredible latte art too" she widens her eyes, shocked by the compliment. "incredible latte art you say? i'll be the judge of that" leehan grins at her playful personality. "iced or hot?" he asks, beginning to click on the buttons displayed on the screen of the register. "hot, please"

"alright...one hot cappuccino for...?"

"yn!" - "one hot cappuccino for yn coming right up!"

yn nods, watching as he retreated to his coffee machines before she allowed herself to explore the café. it was a relatively small place- but the pretty blue paint on the walls made the space feel a little bigger. "you must be really into fishes..." she says, staring at the framed paintings of all kinds of sea-life and spotting the tank filled with fish over at the corner near the bathroom. the barista guy laughs, "yeah...if i weren't a barista i'd be underwater scuba-diving right now" she nods along with his words, finally taking a seat on one of the chairs at the bar-styled table, giving her the clearest view of the working boy.

"so why open a café?'' she asked, revealing to the boy her curious personality. "it's fun!" he says, his voice a little louder now to overpower the buzzing noise from the milk frother. "and..." he said, mindlessly pouring the fluffy milk into the coffee. "there's a possibility i get to meet pretty girls like you" she rolls her eyes at his comment, watching as he adds finishing touches to the coffee.

"et voila, one cappuccino for yn~ enjoy"

the girl chuckles lightly when he dramatically bows, placing the cup of coffee on the table right in front of her. his head that faces the floor lifts up quickly when he hears her breaking out into a fit of laughter. leehan looks up confused, eyebrows furrowing and head tilting off to the side. "so much for incredible latte art..." yn says, still in between catching her breath. he's still confused, but one look down at his creation was enough to understand the girl's reaction.

"ah..." the boy sighs, looking disappointingly at the lame excuse for latte art he had poured into the cup. "i mean what were you going for here? a...an alien?!" the girl exclaimed, causing herself to giggle all over again. he rolls his eyes playfully, "i was actually going for a rose...but i see where you got alien from..." he clicks his tongue, "guess that's something i still need to work on" yn agrees with him, "but try it, as long as it tastes good..." he watches in anticipation as the girl brings the cup to her lips, blowing on the hot beverage slightly before taking a sip. her eyes widen, "oh my god..." leehan is nervous, "what? is it bad?" she shakes her head hastily. "no, no! not at all! this is the best cappuccino i've ever had ever! like seriously"

yn's comments make him sigh in relief, pressing a hand over his chest. "oh thank god...i thought you were gonna bully me like you did my latte art" she laughs, "it wasn't bullying...think of it as harsh feedback!" the sweet smile on her face contradicted the sharp words that she said, it intrigued the barista boy...there was something about her he just seemed to really like- apart from how pretty she was.

a couple minutes went by and soon the cup of coffee was empty. "thank you for the yummy coffee, how much do i owe you?" yn asks, rummaging through her purse in search of her wallet. leehan shook his head, "no! in honor of being my first customer, it's on me" she furrowed her eyebrows, "don't be silly! c'mon give me a price" but he only shook his head once more, "nope! think of it as compensation...for the underwhelming latte art" she sighs, giving up on arguing with the handsome barista. ''if you come again tomorrow though, i'll let you pay~" his smile made her insides melt like chocolate, and she sighs. "sounds good..." she trails off, beginning to get off the chair and closer to the exit. before she leaves she turns to look at him once more.

"better show me that incredible latte art you keep boasting about though!" he laughs, "trust me...i'll be up all night perfecting it...just for you"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

sure enough, the barista boy kept his word. the next morning rolled around and the boy begins to tiredly opened up his shop. slight dark circles evident under his eyes from the sleepless night he spent frothing milk at home and endlessly pouring them into cups of coffee. with a little more trial and error, and about a dozen more cappuccinos later, he finally perfected the art. the girl kept her promise as well, waking up bright and early so she could get dressed and head straight to the brand new coffee shop.

ding!

a feeling of deja vu washed over him at the familiar noise of the doorbell. "look who it is!" leehan cheered, clapping his hands together as the girl he was expecting entered the shop. yn smiled, "i expect you have perfected that latte art?" he nods, "well i promised you, didn't i?" she giggles, "ah yes...if i recall...just for me, right?" the girl teased, repeating the pretty words he had told her the other day. the boy blushes softly, scratching the back of his head.

"why don't you take a seat? one hot cappuccino with incredible latte art for the beautiful yn, coming right up!"

just like the previous day, the girl sits at the bar. patiently waiting for the barista to do his job. this time she notices the droplet of sweat that formed to the side of his forehead, his eyes narrowed like a hawk as he stared at the liquid he was pouring into the cup. "wait!" he suddenly says, frantically stopping himself and turning to his one and only customer. "what?" she asked, just as frantic as he was. "can you like not look at me while i do this...it makes me nervous" yn opens her mouth in shock, rolling her eyes once before she turned around in her seat, her back now facing him.

"okay..." she heard him whisper to himself, assuming he had finally begun pouring the frothed milk into a design on her coffee. then the girl hears him let out a breath, followed by his footsteps and a clink of a cup meeting the surface of the bar-like table. leehan clears his throat before beginning to speak.

"a hot cappuccino with improved latte art, for one pretty lady"

yn took his words as a signal to turn back around. honestly the girl had kept her expectations low, not really believing that anyone could perfect such art overnight. however, a look of pure surprise washed over her complexion as the cup of coffee came into sight. it was perfect. the foam in a clear rose shape, totally different from the alien-looking image she saw just the other day.

"what did i tell ya? perfect, right?" leehan grins widely, overly proud of his professional talent. he watches in amusement as his customer nods, "wow...this is amazing, leehan!" yn exclaims, pulling out her phone from her bag and snapping a couple pictures before she had to ruin it to drink. "and..." she begins, taking a sip out of the drink. "still delicious!" the barista smiles happily at her satisfaction.

"no but seriously, how did you manage to perfect it overnight?! you a wizard or something?" yn asks, editing the picture she had taken so she could upload it on her instagram story. leehan giggles, listening to her talk as he cleaned up his station in case other customers began showing up. "i'm starting to think you've always been good and just messed it up yesterday on purpose so you could get me to come back here" she states, making up scenarios for the boy's sudden perfection. he turns to her with a smirk, "and what if i did?" his teasing question makes her ponder for a moment before she displayed a similar smirk on her lips.

"well then it worked, didn't it?"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so how much do i owe you? you promised i could pay if i came back today" yn spoke, her wallet already prepared in the palm of her hand. "fine, it's $4.99" leehan says, pressing on a couple buttons on the screen. "okay, here...sorry, i don't have any small change right now" the girl pouted, handing him a $20 bill. "no worries..." he replied, opening up the cash register to collect her change. "oh shit....looks like there is a worry, i don't have change either..." the girl's eyes widen, "oh no!" she frowns, "what should we do?" they both look up for a minute, trying to come up with a solution. she could tell he thought of something when a cheeky grin takes over his face.

"say..." leehan begins, handing the $20 bill back to her. "you keep this...and you can just give me your number instead! pay me for the coffee at our date this weekend" the barista's sneaky solution surprises her once again. yn rolls her eyes, "now i'm really convinced that everything you do is a rouse to see me again" but her actions contradict the uninterested tone of her voice as she steals the pen from the pocket of his apron, grabbing a piece of tissue and beginning to jot down her digits.

"there...you better call me" he nods happily as he retrieves the tissue from her hands. "i promise, and you know i always keep my word" she giggles, "just for me though, right?" yn asks one last time before making her way over to the door. and right before she leaves leehan replies,

"just for you"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

AAAAAAH i loved writing this fic sm :3 also i luv barista leehan LIKE THOSE PICS FROM YESTERDAY #needthat 🤤 also cant wait for this comeback heehehsgegehhe i hope u guys liked this! reblogs and feedback r greatly appreciated as always. tysm for reading! love, kona.

[starlightandfairies]

Hiii,can you write something like the reader arriving home after college, extremely tired after the test and Elijah Mikaelson takes care of her by making dinner, preparing a bath and helping her sleep? I love your writing!! kisses kisses

Description: The reader just came home from a stressful test and is taken care of by Elijah

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing,

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for a request! I hope you enjoy it!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 795

First Person's POV

With a huff, I entered the Mikaelson compound, rested my coat on the coat rack and slid down against the door, resting my face in my hand. Oh god I was tired, I felt exhausted and just wanted to sleep. I waved slightly to Elijah as he popped his head around from the corner and I hummed lightly as he sat next to me and rested a kiss on the side of my head. 

"I could just fall asleep right here, I'm not against sleeping on the floor, the floor is comfy and somehow grounding. No pun intended." Elijah's warm chuckle made me feel safe, I smiled as he easily picked me up and my bag, and within a flash we were both in our shared bedroom. Elijah rested my bag against the door, rested me on the bed and rested a chaste kiss against my lips. 

"I'll draw you a bath, make some dinner while you're in there and then we can lay in bed together." 

"Sounds perfect." As Elijah prepared my bath for me, I gathered my pyjamas and giggled as Elijah carried me to the bathroom, the vampire left me be to relax and soak in the warm water. He lit all my favourite candles and soaked the water in lavender bath salts. 

I sunk further into the water, letting the water nearly swallow me whole, I don't know how much time passed but I heard a gentle knock on the door and Elijah's voice greet my ears. 

"Dinner's almost ready..." 

"Thank you, I'll be out shortly." I drained the tub, scrunching my face up at the gurgling sound of the water shooting down the drain. I dressed myself into my pyjamas, smiling lightly as Elijah prepped a small dinner set up near the bed so we were able to eat and then easily go back to bed. 

"Tell me about your day, my love." Elijah cooed, taking my hand as we sat together at the small table. 

"The test... I swear I prepared all the wrong things, I went in feeling confident and came out feeling like I studied all the wrong things. 

"I'm sure you did just fine, my love. You studied so hard, I wouldn't worry about not passing." 

"What if I failed?" 

"You wouldn't have failed, If you did I can compel them to allow you to resit. I always offer and because you are so intelligent, my love. I wouldn't worry about this, I promise. You worked so hard to get to this point, there's no need to worry, I'm always here to help you with your schooling."

"Thank you, Elijah, I appreciate this." 

"Always and forever." I smiled hearing him say the words so softly and so reassuringly. Together we ate the toasties he made, I felt like a princess being given the toasties. A comfort food, that I've had for years and knowing that Elijah knew all this made me incredibly happy. 

"What about you, how was your day?" I questioned, pouting slightly as he shook his and took my hands into his. 

"Do not worry about me, my love, all I want you to focus on, is you." This man made me feel so safe, I hummed as after I finished he carried me back to the bathroom so we could brush our teeth and I could do my skincare routine. Elijah picked me up after I finished, I giggled in his arms, smiling as we laid together in bed and he brought me against his chest. 

"I love you, Elijah." 

"I love you more, my love." Elijah would periodically rest gentle kisses across my face, he cooed gently, whispering words into my ear and rubbed circles against my back. I always enjoyed laying in his arms, I always enjoyed having Elijah wrap me in his arms, protecting me against all physical and internal evils. 

"Tomorrow, just take it easy, we can just relax in bed. I'll treat you in bed all day, just a you and me day. No supernatural issues, you can show me all those movies you like, I can read you that book you wanted me to read." 

"Hmm, sounds perfect," I whispered, sleepily, curling closer against him. 

"Get some sleep, my love. I'll look after you." 

"Thank you for being so great." 

"Always." His gentle caress against my skin, lulled me to sleep, it was soothing and made all the issues disappear. I could feel myself falling asleep, for once sleep came in a gentle breeze, made me feel at ease for once in my life and having Elijah at my side made it that much easier to feel safe and happier. 

[skrrts]

in my eyes, you are perfect (one-shot) mature!

✧ reader & non!idol wooyoung ✧ genre: slice of life, summer, best friends who might like each other, mdni ✧ word count: 1,5k ✧ mentions: very small suggestive hint, rude stranger, insecurity, mdni

Reader and Wooyoung have been best friends for years. It isn't their first vacation together, but Reader is having a hard time enjoying it after being disappointed by a rejected flirt attempt with another tourist at the hotel. Wooyoung thinks that Reader is amazing, maybe he just needs to be the one to tell them just that.

You know it's silly: a rejected small flirt that wasn't even intended to be serious shouldn't ruin your day, but it does because you cannot entirely stop wondering why.

This was the summer vacation of your dreams: long beautiful beaches, white banks of sand, and the most stunning view from a hotel you could only afford after saving up for a year and with the help of your best friend, who watches you with mild amusement as you check your appearance once more.

From your hair to your outfit, social media would be jealous of the confidence you radiated when you left your shared room this morning. But now, the frown just won't leave you, even as you finally give in and join your best friend at the pool, which almost looks like it's part of the ocean underneath it.

Everything is perfect. You are at a place you always wanted to go to with the person who knows you best. But such a small incident once more reminds you that none of this really can chase away that silent wish for love, for somebody to share all of this with.

You stop caring about the makeup you put on when you dive under the water, but it doesn't really help, and all you can do is remain halfway hidden under the surface as you look at your chuckling best friend.

Wooyoung had been in high spirits; he's always easily excited: the space of the hotel room, the view, the stunning pool, and even the vast menu for breakfast. You envy him a little, how he always seemed to be so carefree. Of course, you know he hides a lot of his thoughts and struggles, but at the same time, he keeps pushing onward, no matter what happens.

This strength, yet his playful nature, has always drawn you to him, which made it so easy to become best friends. It also helped that you are close in age, understanding the struggles one goes through in their mid-20s.

"I already feared you would leave me all alone here," Wooyoung playfully pretends to whine a little as you give in and join his side. He has relaxed against the edge of the pool, allowing for a stunning view over the ocean.

You take a moment to admire how it looks, his long wet hair slightly pushed back, his torso no longer slim but muscular, water drops running over his skin and tattoos. As you catch yourself staring, you finally force yourself to look away.

"And do what? If I leave you alone, who knows where you'd end up? Then I'd have to search the entire small town for you, like last time! How is it that somebody who is a professional athlete manages to get lost so quickly?" you complain, only to distract from having been whiny all day.

Now that you are here with him like that, you suddenly feel quite silly for it. Your expressions soften, you sigh deeply and turn around to allow your head to lean over the edge of the pool, eyes closed.

"I know you will always come and find me. I am not worried," Wooyoung chuckles, but his voice becomes louder, indicating he moved closer to you.

"Mh true, what would you do without me?" you joke back and open your eyes to look at him, only to realize he had been drawing quite closely. Your cheeks flush as you look at him.

"What's up?" A silly question, but you cannot really phrase any other words, and before you know it, Wooyoung's arms are pinned around you, his gaze wandering over your face.

"I hate to see you so disappointed, you know? When we left the plane two days ago, you really seemed happy, and I was excited about it. Now, you seem like you cannot really let go of some idiot not knowing to appreciate you properly."

Wooyoung's voice was strangely sincere and serious; he wasn't trying to lighten the mood by acting silly or with quick words. Then, he also never had been shy to come closer; he loved to hug you and take your hand. You never really thought much into it, if this might be strange for other friendships.

"Ah, I... just. I guess, it did bother me a little. I thought, the way that guy looked at me, that he was trying to flirt with gazes, and then I just embarrassed myself being upfront..." your voice is a mutter, but you manage not to look away. At this point, Wooyoung is pinning you against the pool, your bodies close to each other.

You remind yourself again, not the first time but certainly the first of being like this, with so little clothing and surrounded by water, in front of all the other guests. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body; there is still a hint of the aftershave he must have used this morning.

Your body feels strange, not the way you are used to from having your best friend so close. For a moment, there is a hint of a desire to press closer together, to lean in and... His words take you out of it.

"If he cannot appreciate you properly, then he certainly doesn't deserve your attention, you know that?" Wooyoung answers, lifting one of his hands to place it against your cheek, his thumb brushing over it gently. Your mind struggles to form words as you feel in a way that confuses you.

This is your best friend Wooyoung; why do you react so strongly to it? He's beautiful, though, and always caring, looking out for you, more than you could ever have asked for and certainly more than any of your boyfriends offered before.

You exhale, trying to find words, but he's quicker again. Now the smile that is so familiar returns to his expressions: "I will be here to remind you, whenever you need it because you only deserve this and so much more."

When he steps back, you find yourself oddly disappointed, but you swallow it with silence as Wooyoung heads to the edge of the pool. You cannot stop thinking about the way you felt when he was so close, about his soft voice and how beautiful he looked in the sunlight.

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day, and even when the two of you went to the outside area of the restaurant which belonged to the hotel, you still had to try not to blush when recalling it. Your eyes wandered over the menu when a voice tore you out of it.

"Looks like you found somebody to be your summer fling after all, and even a popular face. Aren't you some kind of athlete?" The mocking voice belonged to the handsome stranger you tried to flirt with this morning.

It was impossible to hide your embarrassment, but Wooyoung was out and about to take care of it before you could say anything. "That is correct, I'm a baseball player, soon to be one of the nation's best," his voice lacks no confidence.

"And this one here is the most stunning and beautiful person I have ever encountered. This truly is the best vacation I ever had. If you'd excuse us now, we are about to enjoy dinner."

The tourist furrows his brows, obviously surprised by the bold statement. "If that would be so, you know that your date tried rather keenly to date me this morning?"

"That's not true!" You finally found your words, staring at the guy who is grinning, but suddenly, you are lifted up and pulled onto Wooyoung's lap. His arm curls around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder.

"It's a rare case of a true, sudden summer love. The one you see in movies where it takes an asshole like yourself to bring together what was meant to be. So thanks for that, I finally found that one special person."

The tourist and you are silenced as the bold words spread, but unlike him, you cannot help but blush, your heart beating loudly. The stranger mutters and leaves.

But even as he is gone, Wooyoung doesn't seem to have any intentions of dropping you. Instead, his fingers very gently turn your chin around and towards him. "You are worth everything, you know that? If you'd let me, I'll gladly show you."

Wooyoung's words are both sincere and playful. You swallow, but for some reason, you nod. Yes, Wooyoung knows you, and he never would disappoint you. "Yes, I want that... please show me."

You can see how he grins a little, but happiness is reflected in his eyes. Wooyoung leans in and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's curious but soft, and you find yourself returning it without any hesitation because it feels right and perfect just like that.

You two enjoy the moment and only part when one of the waiters clears her throat, asking about your order.

Wooyoung chuckles but finally allows you to return to your seat. "I am quite hungry now! Let's eat well and after that, how about a walk along the beach?" You rub one of your hands over your cheek, trying to chase away the blush, but find yourself smiling. "Ah yes, I'd love that."

Maybe all you were looking for, that person to cherish and love you just like that, has been there for quite some time but you overlooked him altogether.

Now, you won't.

[mellowwillowy]

Back at Yan! Bishop vs Yan! Preacher agenda (GN)

CW: Somnophilia, tentacles (Eldritch horror), asphyxiation

Yan! Preacher who is just a walking menace, he is much more of a demon than a man of holy scriptures, always teaching you entirely false things.

Yan! Preacher who won't hesitate to pull Yan! Bishop's leg for shits and giggles, a hand that lingers on you longer than intended, a lip that is so threateningly close to yours, and a knee pressed down on your crotch by the church altar.

Yan! Bishop who is almost always fuming in anger whenever such indecencies are shown, chiding hands and lips get close to you as he yanks you close to him instead. Despite the vein that popped out of his skin, he could never get angry with you.

Yan! Preacher who enjoys the little cat and mouse game thoroughly with both you and him, ready to end the game whenever he feels so.

Yan! Bishop who will resort to restricting you from meeting the preacher, even going as far as installing locks on your bedroom.

Yan! Bishop who loves you dearly to the point he’s ready to burn the full ache he gets from looking at you sticking around the Preacher, so much that forbidden magic is imbued on the locks.

"Quite the nice locks there, huh? These would burn if I ever lay my fingers on it, no?"

"Then I suggest you not try your hand on it or them lest I decide to burn you myself."

Noel frowned at the way Caelus leaned onto the door to your bedroom casually, as though challenging him to do so. As much as the locks would burn him, it would only amount to tripping him but never making him fall.

At that statement, the bishop raised one of his eyebrows, "Pardon?"

"Done locking it? If so, I think it's time for you to scram."

"The same can be said of you, what are you waiting for?"

"The same as you."

The golden-eyed man flashed him a toothy grin that reached his eyes, "Think I'd never catch your tail? How many times have you worshipped them to the point you copulate with them?"

Noel twitched at his remarks. As though he was remarked to be a mutt in heat, he could also not deny the fact that he had done something unpardonable.

Caelus rounded his way toward Noel and gave his shoulder a squeezing pat, "I'd also rather not sit idly waiting for you to leave just to get my fair share of play."

With a flick of a wrist, the Preacher's finger was imbued with a glowing magic that allowed him to break the locks. Caelus nodded in gratitude for the undoing, "But when it comes to exorcising, I suppose having a lending hand won't hurt."

"Your point is?"

The Preacher smiled at his words, "I'd say we enjoy this together, I won't do anything with your little adoration game to my doll though I must say, sharing is never my forte..."

—

It felt vivid. Within your dreamscape, you could feel something rocking you yet in an oddly pleasurable way. Ghost of fingers and tongues that felt your skin to a dull ache between your legs.

"Didn't I tell you to not fuck like a bitch in heat?" Noel chided the other, failing to keep his wording proper when his cock was snuggled deep inside your mouth, tip twitching just from the rumble of your throat when Caelus managed to hit the right spot.

"Shut it, fraud." Caelus hissed in gritted teeth as he angled you to take his cock even deeper, "𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, can't you hear those little whimpers they make for me?"

As much as he'd like to give his fair face a punch, Noel couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that you two were never an item. But so were you and Caelus!

"Then I have the right to say the same too." Noel's eyes fell on your sex, his fingers trailed from your navel to it, feeling the warmth it emitted before working on it, earning yet another whimper from you that made him jerk his hips unwillingly.

"Ooh~? Pretty boy is having a hard time?"

"Shut it-" Noel clasped his mouth with the back of his hand, his hips snapping backward and forward, chasing his own climax albeit gently in a sense. Just as the Bishop's mind was clouded in lust, his red orbs focused on your face, the Preacher took his chance to manipulate your dream into a picture of reality.

"Hm..." His hand traveled to your neck, holding the rosary tightly for a moment before snapping his hips hard and fast.

Caelus couldn't manipulate it even just for a 1/3, let alone entirely. It was not a pleasant fact knowing that he wasn't in charge of the situation alas he could only unravel his displeasure into you.

His finger grazed the rosary as he muttered out a spell, his other hand rested on Noel's back before imbuing it with magic, pushing Noel toward you abruptly.

"Hkh-! What in the world are you-" Just before Noel could elbow him, the rosary tightened around your neck, causing you to groan and sending a wave of pleasure toward Noel's cock that was nuzzled deep in your throat now.

Noel's eyes were trained to the ominous threat yet his mind just could not stop causing him to rut into you, desperate for a release. And release did he have it, the idea of it trickling down through your trachea in ease made him shiver.

"Wh-what? Shit, can't pull it out."

"Hm? I never knew the Bishop enjoys molesting his followers like this, bruising their throat and getting off from it." The Preacher snarked at him, his pace remained steady as shadows of tentacles glowered into an image.

The rosary fell loose, allowing Noel to pull out and adore the mess he had done. His finger went to wipe the stain he left before he gave your lip a soft kiss, causing the other entity to roll his eyes.

"How uncivilized."

"More like you're the uncivilized one here with how foul your methods are..."

"I'm not a mirror you know."

"Done being lovey dovey? If so, you ought to scram, I need space."

Noel raised one of his eyebrows before he saw the shadow again. Numerous tentacles appeared out of the shadow and folded you into a mating press, ankles placed by your ears.

"You-!" Noel's hand was swung into motion as he tried to imbue it with magic yet nothing would come out, causing Caelus to chortle at his attempt.

"You are doing great in controlling their dream but that's just as far as you can go. Abuse more power and you might just set yourself on fire instead." As much as Noel was capable of doing so, he knew that he was not on the same level when it came down to magic with Caelus.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

Caelus hummed out an ancient lullaby you had always enjoyed hearing him sing, his rutting rocking you back and forth like a baby in a cradle being rocked back and forth.

The tentacle threatened itself into your mouth, the suckers feeling your tongue before it entered deeper, and the other gave your neck a squeeze that was barely below crashing your windpipe.

Whimpers, or should Noel noted, choked sobs slipped past your filled mouth, and a single tear fell out of your heavily lidded eyes. Noel knelt down and his tongue went to lick it upward, savoring the saltiness before peppering your face with kisses as he hushed you down, his hand clasped against yours.

"You are doing great, shh... good... good..."

At the sight of your hand clasped with Noel's, Caelus's eyes flickered in disdain yet he held back his comment, lip turning downward and his pace started to turn into a bruising one, uncaring of whether you were pleasured or not.

If he could snap you out of your dream, he would. That way, just perhaps you would freak out and let go of Noel's hand, gripping the bedsheet tightly looked better if you were hesitant in holding his hand or tentacle.

The tentacles squeezed themselves harder against your neck, causing more tears to slip out and louder sobs to fall out. It did not bother Caelus in the slightest for he knew,

𝘛𝘩𝘦 '𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦' 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

A flash of you passed through his mind, snapping him out of his trance, and he bit his lip to the point it bled, his seed nestled deep inside you as his hip halted in place.

The tentacles retreated as he pulled himself out, and your body laid back properly as a dribble of cum leaked out of your abused hole. Noel's hand was still clasping yours as his now gleaming turquoise eyes locked with Caelus' golden orbs.

Two glowing eyes stared at each other in disdain, ready to strangle each other.

—

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll have you sent to Carcosa."

"And keep sticking around them and I'll have you burnt, monster."

You woke up to the birds chirping, opening your eyes as you adjusted your eyes to the light. You tried to sit up only to feel a dull ache in your hip. Weirded out, you slipped your feet into your slippers only to feel ached on your ankles,

"Wha-" You clasped your throat, it hurt when you tried to speak and your voice was hoarse.

Just what in the world had happened during your sleep? Setting worries aside, you were certain that both Noel and Caelus would have the answer for it.

Author’s Note:

Carcosa is a fictional city in Ambrose Bierce's short story "An Inhabitant of Carcosa" (1886)

While writing this, I have to make @thescribeoflostmemories helps me around with Caelus [one, because Caelus is half inspired by one of his OC so she knows his way around lol (also to not OOC his OC painfully <3)]

[sad-not-glad]

Sharing is Caring

Soft Dom! Steve x Sub! Bucky x Dom! reader

Warnings: smut!!!! Sm smut. Blowjobs. Mommy kink. Captain kink. MMF threesome. Anal. The list goes on.

Word count: 4198

A/N: I’m a slut for sub! Bucky. Always. This is a repost since I was fkn stupid and deleted my old account. Enjoy!

Your little apartment was quiet save for the soft sounds of the city waking up that drifted in from the window. Today was a cleaning day so you had woken up early, opened all the windows, and set to work. You intended to have the place spotless in time for your boyfriend’s return home. He had been called away on a last-second mission that you weren’t allowed to know the details of and he was due to return later that evening, just in time for date night. Knowing how tired he would be, you had planned a simple night in so he could relax and be pampered by your love. You’ve only just started the kitchen when there’s a soft knock at the door that pulls you from your cleaning induced stupor. Setting down the rag and cleaning spray you wiped your hands on your jeans as you made for the door. After a quick peep through the looking hole you clicked the lock and swung open the wood to reveal a face you knew very well.

Steve Rogers stood there, smiling lazily with his hands shoved in his pockets. Although you couldn’t deny how he shifted between his feet anxiously. “Hey Steve, everything okay?” He nodded, glancing past you into the apartment before answering. “Yeah, can we talk?”

“Well, that’s something.” You sit back against your couch as you cross your arms in thought. Steve sat nearby in the armchair you found a few months ago, playing with his fingers to avoid your questioning gaze. “Like I said, (Y/N), I really don’t want this to change anything. I just- I couldn’t keep being friends with you if you didn’t know. It wouldn’t be right.” You hummed, thoughts running wild as he waited anxiously for your response. It was an odd situation admittedly, but not all that surprising. Especially considering the conversations you and Bucky already had about the topic. And knowing Steve the way you did, this should have been expected. He was a good person and you knew that he was being honest with you out of the guilt he carried for deceiving you. At least he thought he had.

“Would you want things to change?” You sit forward, propping your head against your hand as you stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. It was an idea you had been brewing since the first mention of this from Bucky, and now seemed as perfect a time as any to put it into action. “What do you mean?” Steve clearly wasn’t expecting your answer to be that, but you could see the curiosity in his eyes when he shifted forward ever so slightly. “Things are different nowadays, Steve. Relationships are different. And I think we can work something out where all of us can be happy.”

He considered your words for a moment before squinting his eyes suspiciously. Was this some kind of test in his faith? If so, he was going to fail. “Like what?” The grin that spread across your lips was captivating, mischievous as you told him of your idea. The more you explained the harder he could feel himself blushing and by the end there was a considerable strain to his pants. His voice is weak when he finally finds the courage to respond. “That sounds… amazing.” Your eyes sparkle as you bite your lip and giggle at him. “Well I’m glad you think so. But in the meantime you’re going to help me clean, our boy deserves a tidy house to return to.” His face burns when you specifically emphasize the word ‘our.’ This was going to be a long day of waiting.

Bucky was exhausted. His joints ached and there was a sizable gash down his right bicep. All he wanted was to be home, surrounded by your warmth and love as he recovered mentally from his mission. Opening the door he was met with the warm smell of your home cooking and boisterous laughter floating from the kitchen. He let his bags fall with a soft thud as he kicked off his boots before following the sounds of voices. You stood at the stove, cooking something that smelled absolutely divine as Steve reclined against the counter next to you. Both of you were giggling at whatever had been said and it makes his heart warm to see the two people he loved most getting on so well together. Steve notices him first, greeting the man with a smile and a wave. “Heya Buck. How’d it go?” You turn away from the pans, walking over to wrap your arms tightly around his torso. He sighs, burning his face into your hair before responding to his friend. “It went to shit, I’m just happy to be home.” You leaned up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek before retreating back to your cooking. With a quick glance at the clock and some mental math you deduce that he has enough time for a shower before you finish. “Why don’t you go clean up, baby? Dinner will be done by then.” He nodded softly, disappearing from the kitchen to do just that. A nice hot shower would help him out more than he was willing to admit right now.

When Bucky emerged, clean and in fresh clothes, the table had already been set with dinner. There were two large servings accompanied by your considerably smaller one, something you had grown used to over the years spent with your boyfriend. He could eat your entire kitchen bare and still be hungry, and that was a good day. So you always made sure to pile his plate high with food, doing the same for Steve. There’s little conversation as the three of you eat peacefully. Steve insists on doing the dishes, sending you and Bucky to the living room so you could choose something to watch on the TV. “You wanna watch Harry Potter again?” Bucky asks, sorting through your sizable DVD collection. You sit on the floor beside him, eyes scanning over the titles available as you thought. “Hm, you’ve seen that like three times now. Oh! What about this one, it’s about three sisters who are witches.” You pull Charmed from the stack, passing it over so he can look at the case. After a moment Bucky nods, handing it back to you with a smile. “Sounds like fun, dollface. Wanna go get some snacks while I set up?” That was one thing you thought was absolutely adorable when it came to Bucky. He had such a passion for learning about new technology and the internet. At first it was surprising but after hearing the stories of his fascination with sci-fi before the war it made more sense to you. With a soft peck to his stubble cheek you disappear back into the kitchen.

Steve is drying his hands, sink empty and dishes placed out on the rack to dry. You carefully step around him, grabbing out a bag of popcorn to microwave while you flitted around gathering other various things for your boys to munch on. Steve catches your eye and gives a curious nod of his head towards the door leading to the living room. You step forward and speak in a low voice so Bucky couldn’t overhear. “Second episode.” He nods in understanding, vanishing out to join your boyfriend while they wait for you to finish your own task. After dumping the bag of hot kernels into a bowl and gathering everything else in your arms you make your way back out to the two men. You unceremoniously drop everything onto the coffee table before plopping down on the sofa next to Bucky. His arm automatically comes to rest around your shoulders as he hits play and the DVD begins. The first episode passes normally, it’s about halfway through the second that Steve shifting on the other side of Bucky catches your attention. His gaze locks on to yours for just a moment and you smirk, tilting your head up to kiss along your lover’s jaw.

Bucky sighs, his hold around your shoulders tightening in warning as you nip softly below his ear. He was more than happy to kiss you stupid, but Steve was right there. He couldn’t do that to him. Not with the tension still running so high between the two men. It just wouldn’t be fair. You raise your hand, placing it gently over his chest as you slowly trail your lips over his neck. Your treading into dangerous territory right now and he can’t help the small whimper that tears from his lips when you latch onto the one sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder. There’s a pause where his heart drops as Steve sits forward, shame and guilt coursing through his veins. This wasn’t fair-

All of Bucky’s thoughts short circuit as the other man turns, bending down to copy your actions and smothering his best friend’s neck with soft kisses and bites. His whole body is vibrating, torn between confusion and absolute arousal. Your fingers trace a pace slowly down his abs and brush over the bulge in his sweatpants as Steve’s hand takes the place where yours just was. His breath is coming out in short pants as he fights to understand just what was happening. You give a soft chuckle, hand cupping over his dick and giving a soft squeeze as he groans out. “You gonna let us take care of you honey? Treat you nice the way you deserve?”

He stutters, unable to form a response as you tut softly in his ear. Steve had moved on to sucking deep marks against his skin, pulling back and lavishing his work with tender licks before moving to the next spot. And god, Bucky feels like he could explode. His wide eyes jump back and forth from you, his girlfriend, to Steve, the man he still loves. This had to be a dream, or some kind of sick joke the both of you were playing, right? Bucky’s eyes fought to stay open as you gently slipped your hand down past the elastic of his pants and boxers to finally grab ahold of his cock. You give him a few slow tugs before coming to a stop. When you speak your voice is clear and firm. “Bucky, baby, you want this?”

His eyes slide open as he turns to you in question. You answer him, already knowing what was going through his mind. “You wanna let me n’ Stevie love on you? You deserve it baby boy, and you can have anything you want.” Your soft prodding brings his mind back to reality as the situation crashes over him. He twitches painfully in your hand as he considers his options while Steve continues his journey down Bucky’s neck. After a few moments he gives a soft nod and you grin, tightening your grip around his cock. “Words, use them sweet boy.” He struggles for a moment before finally finding his voice. “Yes, mommy. Want it bad.” The moan Steve lets out against his skin is absolutely sinful. Neither of you were strangers to the kinkier side of the bedroom, it was something Bucky took in stride. He had spent so long being in power, even if someone was telling him what to do he was still fighting and killing. And being able to completely let go and lose himself in your safety and warmth was a welcome release from his chaotic and sometimes gruesome life.

“Okay my boy, we’re gonna treat you so good honey. You know your words?” He nods, head already clouding over as he lets himself go into that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was the pleasure you could bring him. And now Steve too.

“Yes ma’am. Platypus ma’am.” The blonde snorts and you can’t help but chuckle too as he raises a curious brow at you. “It works really well. It’s not something either of us would say normally so it’s very easy to tell something is wrong. But we’ve never had to use it, have we, my sweet boy?” He shakes his head lightly as you hum in approval. Being Bucky’s dom was not something you took lightly, and from your earlier conversations Steve understood the importance of the role as well. Of course he didn’t know the modern terms for everything but he understood the basics, revealing to you that neither of the men were new to the roles you had assumed so easily. You make eye contact with Steve and nod your head down to where your hand is stuffed down Bucky’s pants. “Wanna help out, Captain?” He eagerly reaches down, hand covering your own as Bucky gasps and throws his head against the back of the couch. It had been years for him so Steve let’s you guide him on what to do as he slowly re-acquaints himself with the other man’s glorious cock. Only a few moments later he's taking the lead and you move your hand down to fondle Bucky’s balls. He moans and whines as his hips jut up uncontrollable against your combined hands and their efforts.

Your other hand moves up to gently rest against the back of his neck, turning and guiding his head towards Steve’s awaiting lips. The kiss begins soft and slow but quickly grows heated. Your panties are quickly growing moist as you watch the two make out. It’s sloppy and all tongues and teeth as Bucky lets out little whimpers into Steve’s mouth, who happily swallows them down. You increase your efforts, fingers slowly slipping back to softly rub against the furl of his tight hole. Bucky comes with a sharp cry as you gently press down, hips jerking into Steve’s hand as he sprays ropes of this hot cum against the fabric of his boxers. You both slow to give him a moment to catch his breath, Steve keeping him locked in a now softer kiss as you resumed your ministrations across his neck. Once Bucky has recovered you slide from the couch to stand before the two men.

“Sweet boy, how are you feeling?” His eyes are glossy and his lips are swollen, the front of his sweats stained with his cum. A second passes before he answers. “So good, mommy.” You smile, leaning down to gently brush your hand through his hair. “Do you wanna keep going baby? Or are you too tired?” He shakes his head, face heating up with humiliation as he struggles for words. “Want it, mommy.” You hum, gently tugging on his hair as he gasps and moans. “What do you want, baby? I told you to use your words.” He stutters and his skin is quickly darling into a beautiful scarlet color. “I want… both of you? Both of you, I want you both.” He stumbles over his words, shame burning through his veins as you smile reassuringly at him. “Oh sweet boy, you think you can take it?” He nods insistently and Steve’s chuckle rumbles across his skin. “Alright then. You know what to do, go make yourself look pretty for us on the bed.” Bucky shoots up from the couch and rushes away to do as told. Steve casually raises from the couch and you both take the moment to discuss your next plans. “I know you guys have been pretty intense in the past but you remember what I told you earlier?” He nods, running over your conversation in his mind. You had explained to him the formalities of domination and submissives, gone into detail about how Bucky responded to subspace and how to care for him. Steve straightened up confidently before responding. “Of course. I only want him to feel good.” You smile warmly, gently petting his shoulder with an understanding nod. “I know you do Stevie. You’ll do an amazing job. Ready to go take care of our boy?”

“Lead the way, mommy.” He’s teasing you, in a friendly way of course. You roll your eyes and smirk. “Behave, Captain. We don’t wanna overwhelm Bucky just yet.” He hums in understanding as you lead the way back to the bedroom. Bucky is sitting on his knees in the middle of the bed, stripped nude with his hands clasped patiently behind his back. He truly is a sight to behold. You make your way over to the bed casually, reaching down to trace his jaw. “How do you wanna do this, honey? We wanna take it at your pace.” His eyes flick between the two of you as he tries desperately to find the words needed in the moment. “Want… can I have Steve, mommy? Please?” You tut once again, gripping his soft hair and tugging his hair back harshly. “What did you call him?” You can hear Steve swallow thickly as he watches Bucky’s breath pick up and his cock twitch softly against his abs where it’s straining. Bucky rushes to correct himself. “Captain! I wan’ captain.” You let up on your hold in his hair and softly smooth your hand over his neck. “Good job. Where do you want him, sweet boy?” He’s shaking with humiliation but you know he loves it, loves when you force him to explain exactly what he wants. The burn of shame was delicious, cutting into the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. “I want… can I have his cock, mommy? I wanna feel him inside me, been so long.” Glancing over your shoulder at Steve you take note of his wide pupils and prominent bulge. “I dunno baby. Why don’t you ask your Captain yourself?” The blonde licks his lips, eyes watching Bucky intensely as he steps forward while tugging down the button and fly of his pants. Bucky gently raises his eyes to meet his gaze, face burning as he asks for what he so desperately needed.

“I want your cock, Captain. Can I have it, please?” You watch Steve nod, pulling himself out of his jeans as Bucky practically drooled. “Where do you want it?” He whimpers, too enamored by the arousal thrumming through his veins to reply. You chuckle, coming behind Bucky on the bed so you can wrap your arms around his chest from the back. “You want it in your mouth sweet boy? Or do you want him to fuck that pretty little ass?” They both moan out at your filthy words, Steve slowly jerking himself as Bucky fights for an answer. Both options sounded absolutely heavenly, but he knew he could only have one at a time. So-

“My ass, want it in my ass, Captain.” You coo softly, guiding your boy to gently lean back against your chest as you reach down to spread his legs. Steve places one knee on the bed, leaning down and swallowing Bucky’s soft gasps and moans into his mouth. While the two settled into another sloppy make out session you quickly reached back to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside stand. A short moment later your fingers are covered in slick and pressing softly against the ring of muscle hidden between Bucky’s full cheeks. His moan is absolutely broken as you gently push your finger in, only up to the first knuckle. Slowly you begin to work him open while sucking dark hickeys over the back of his neck. Steve pulls back to shift his weight fully onto the bed, eyes trailing down to watch as Bucky greedily swallowed your fingers. The sight was enough to make him throb painfully. With gently pushes you gradually work your entire finger past his hole before adding a second gently. Tears begin to fall from Bucky’s pretty eyes and Steve makes quick work of licking the salty treat away. You sigh softly, enjoying the show so much that for a moment you almost forgot that you were the one calling the shots. You had a fleeting thought of a super soldier sandwich and happily tucked it away in your mind for later. Tonight was about your baby boy, after all.

“Are you ready honey? Think you’re nice and stretched for Captain’s dick?” He nods feverishly, head tipping back against your shoulder as he grinds down against your fingers. There’s a soft squish as you pull your hand away, wiping your fingers off on his thigh. Steve shuffled closer with cock in hand but doesn’t seem to be in any kind of rush. He takes his time, tracing the fat tip from Bucky’s balls down over his quivering hole. Ever so gently he pushes forward and groans lowly as his tip is accepted easily. You gently skim your hands across your boyfriend’s chest as he quivers, eyes squeezed shut and lip caught tightly between his teeth. He’s whining and rocking down, trying so hard to chase the delicious burn of his Captain’s heavy prick forcing him open. It takes a decent amount of time but finally Steve is able to bottom out, holding himself tightly against Bucky’s hips as he fights to resist the urge to absolutely ruin the man underneath him. He gives a soft thrust and you grin and Bucky’s debauched moan of pure pleasure. “Oh! Please, Captain!” He was always so cute when he got needy and whiny like this. Making eye contact with the other man you reach out to pull him forward by his shirt. Spurred on by the heat of the moment your lips meet and Bucky feels tears burn his eyes at the sight as his cock grows impossibly harder. He had never seen something so sexy before. Steve sets up a slow, deep pace as he continues to keep you locked in a lazy kiss. Your attention is pulled away by the soft cries of your boyfriend as you both look over to his face. He’s absolutely ruined already, tears streaming his face as he writhes against the pleasure. Steve seems to get off on the sight as he picks up his pace which only serves to push Bucky even further into his pleasure filled haze.

“Does that feel good, baby boy? Huh?” You can tell that Bucky is drawing close to his release. His eyes are unfocused as he gasps and moans while his face shines with fat tears. Slipping your hand down between their bodies you grab ahold of him and within three sharing tugs he’s cumming with a loud sob, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Steve’s pace continues for a few more moments before he pulls back with a strangled groan as he begins to fist his cock rapidly. After another moment he also manages to reach his climax, releasing thick spurts over your boyfriend with a soft hiss. A heavy silence fills the room as both men fight to catch their breath while you slyly raise your hand up to your mouth, sucking down the now combined taste of them both. Gently you shift to the side and guide Bucky down onto his back so he can recover before slipping from the bed in search of a wet cloth. When you return from the bathroom the two have curled against each other while Steve peppers small kisses all over the brunette’s face as he mumbles soft confirmations of his love. Bucky is clearly still floating on air as you make quick work of cleaning them both with a gentle hand. Cleaned and thuroughly fucked through you leave them one last time to flick off the light before joining them both in bed. Together in a mess of limbs and warm kisses the three of you fall asleep.

When Bucky wakes up it takes him several long seconds to remember what had happened the night before. The bed is empty but still warm. Carefully he plays his feet on the floor, hissing softly when he stands as a stab of pain cuts through his backside. It all comes crashing down on him then, the memories of being pressed between the two people he loved the most. He pulls on a pair of clean pajamas for the dresser before padding out into the hallway.

There’s soft music playing from your record player, something old that he remembers hearing before the war. He catches sight of you and Steve in the kitchen, giggling and talking quietly as you both made breakfast. He watched as you leant up, kissing the blonde’s cheek before returning to the pancakes you had to flip. He enters the kitchen quietly as he steps behind you to peek over your shoulder. Steve notices and shoots him a smile that makes his stomach flutter.

“Morning Buck. Sleep well?”

He blinks, thinking for a moment before he nods.

“Yeah, the best sleep I’ve had in seventy years.”

He didn’t need to explain why, you both knew. And that was probably the best part of this entire thing, the silent understanding shared between the three of you. You press a soft kiss to his lips and when you pull away Steve takes your place, claiming Bucky’s lips as his own for another sweet peck. Yeah, Bucky though absentmindedly, he could get used to this.

[antianakin]

i saw that you put finnrey as your “most potential” ship and i was just wondering what makes you see them as more romantic over a platonic relationship? especially considering the finnpoe presence lol

and to be clear, definitely not judging you or saying everyone has to prefer finnpoe, i just haven’t seen very many people talk about finnrey as a romantic pair, or at least i haven’t interacted with it, so i’m curious for your take :)

I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: I do not dislike Finnpoe at all, I actually quite enjoy Finnpoe as a ship, I think that Finn and Poe's dynamic in the movies is (mostly) enjoyable, and I do think there is an obvious foundation for the interpretation of them as romantic based on what we see in the films.

Finnrey are pretty obviously set up as a future romantic couple in TFA, to the point that the person who wrote the novelization has said that that is how he wrote them because it seemed REALLY REALLY OBVIOUS that that's where they were going with that relationship with what he had seen of it and he was pretty surprised when future films didn't follow up on that. There is arguably more explicit set-up for Finnrey in the first film of their trilogy than there was for Han/Leia (and also Luke/Leia since their sibling relationship wasn't established yet when ANH came out) and even for Anidala in their respective first films together.

It's Rey that Finn goes back for, fulfilling a place in her life that she's been waiting on for literal years, becoming the first person Rey feels like she can trust. Finn gets jealous when he thinks that Rey is going back to a boyfriend on Jakku. There's an entire running gag that is about the two of them holding hands, something usually pretty connected to romantic couples. Finn only joins the Rebellion because he cares enough about Rey to want to go back to save her (and he also answers his call of destiny by doing so, as visualized by him being given and then using Anakin's lightsaber as part of that decision). Rey answers her own call to destiny when she calls Anakin's lightsaber to her, something she only does in order to save Finn after Kylo has injured him. The two of them impact each other's storylines in a way that NO ONE ELSE DOES.

I also personally feel like Finn and Rey were originally built as CO-LEADS in TFA, neither one was supposed to be "the main character" over the other. They were BOTH intended to be Force sensitive, BOTH intended to become Jedi, BOTH intended to be the awakening in the Force. Their connection was the whole heart of the story in TFA. Allowing them to be love interests for each other just helps cement that. Finnrey being allowed to remain love interests throughout the Sequel trilogy could've helped keep Finn from being sidelined, it could've helped keep REY from being sidelined, it could've allowed Kylo Ren to remain a villain, it could've helped keep some of the more interesting themes of TFA from being completely and utterly dropped.

By comparison, Poe was supposed to die in TFA. He and Finn share maybe 2-3 scenes total with each other, which are split up between the very beginning and the end of the second act of the film, leaving a LOT of time in-between where neither we as the audience nor Finn in universe even SEE Poe (and he mostly disappears when the third act on Starkiller Base starts up, too). Giving Finn a love interest that isn't Rey also opens the door for him to be sidelined in favor of Rey. This is something we can actually see done intentionally in TLJ with Finn and Rose. It pulls focus from what was set up as the focal point and heart of the narrative in TFA (Finn and Rey's relationship) and provides an excuse for why Finn isn't taking part in the bigger storylines with Rey.

And last but not least, I don't personally believe that there was ever a snowball's chance in hell that Finn and Poe were ever going to become an canon couple in a Disney Star Wars movie (it wouldn't have happened in a Lucas-run Sequel Trilogy either, but that's not really the point here). Finnrey could've. You can even argue that it SHOULD'VE happened and that it WOULD'VE happened (if Rian Johnson hadn't come in and decided to ignore everything that was set up in TFA). And Finnrey theoretically still HAS a shot at being made canon. It seems a LOT more likely that if they continue to explore the characters in the future that we'll see Finn and Rey get together romantically than that we would see Finn and Poe get together romantically.

So while I like Finn and Poe, I don't feel like there was real potential that actually got squandered in the films when they didn't happen, whereas there was ACRES of potential for Finn and Rey that got completely thrown away, and doing so really hurt both of their characters and the trilogy as a whole.

[yandereworlds]

「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」

˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.

My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.

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╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI

If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.

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✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.

Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?

✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.

Can you draw a comic for me?

✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.