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captain-hawks · 1 year

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liability

levi ackerman x f!reader

summary: the tables are turned when you save Levi during a mission, nearly getting yourself killed in the process. he's furious, but you don't quite understand why.

word count: 1.6k

content: feels, confessions, kissing

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You startle as the heavy wooden door to the room bursts open, hinges groaning weakly in protest as Levi strides in, slamming it just as hard behind him. The warm glow from the small lantern sitting on the desk beside you contrasts sharply with the cold steel of the eyes it illuminates when he comes to stand before you, everything about his posture conveying the extent of the anger roiling dangerously inside of him.

Carefully closing the notebook you were recording field notes in for Hange, you let go of the pencil in your hand and try to ignore how uncharacteristically ruffled Levi’s hair is, as if he’s been repeatedly dragging his hands through it. You quell your urge to comment on it—because any other day, you’d make a remark just to get a rise out of him.

But you know better than to poke the bear right now, not when you’re well aware you’re the origin point of the fury that he’s outright shaking with. A trail of dried blood remains crusted to the side of his face, matching the dark stains along the torn and tattered remains of his dark green cloak.

He almost died today.

And so did you.

“That you were about to be Titan food if nobody stepped in to help you,” you offer in a flat tone, arms crossed over your chest.

Levi clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, swiping a thumb across the cut on his bottom lip as he continues to level you with that piercing stare. “I was fine,” he snaps.

He was two seconds from being torn to shreds by the three Titans that cornered him while he fought to re-engage his malfunctioning ODM gear, and if you hadn’t come ricocheting through the trees to distract them, humanity may have very well finally lost its strongest soldier.

You tell him as much, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation, and he takes a step toward you, borderline shouting, “I told you to stand the fuck down.”

He had.

You’d locked eyes with him the moment you careened through the thick cover of the branches, had clearly heard what he shouted at you the moment he realized what you were about to do—and you’d promptly ignored his command.

“I didn’t hear you,” you shrug, though you both know it for the bald lie that it is.

He moves closer.

“I’m your Captain, and I gave you a goddamn order.”

“It was a shitty order. You would have died,” you retort.

Levi nearly closes the distance between the two of you, your back pressing against the wall behind you as the toes of his boots scuff against your own. With one hand splayed flat on the surface beside your head, his breath is hot on your face as he seethes, “You almost died.”

A Titan had grabbed you, almost crushing you to death in the process as your fingers fumbled for purchase on your sword, hoping that your last remaining blade would hold out. You hadn’t had time to think through a solid plan, your body having jumped into action without a second thought the moment you realized Levi was well and truly fucked when you could no longer see and hear him soaring through the air. So you’d acted on pure instinct, buying Levi the precious moments he needed to get his gear back in working order, and he’d then immediately killed the Titan that had you in its grip.

It was fine. You both survived.

Barely.

You’d hardly had time to say a word to Levi afterward, both of you caught up in rejoining the main fray of the battle alongside your fellow Scouts.

“I’m fine,” you counter, turning your head to the side to break the intense eye contact.

Levi grasps your chin, turning your head to face him again, mouth set in a hard line. “You’re reckless,” he growls.

You sigh in annoyance, fighting a losing battle to temper down your body’s reaction to Levi’s close proximity, the whisper of his body heat like a beacon to your tired, weary bones.

Right.

So maybe your reckless decision wasn’t just made out of the goodness of your heart as a Scout, but also was heavily inspired by one inescapable, undeniable fact—you’re in love with Levi Ackerman.

Your crush had been innocent enough at first, a bright flare of feelings sparking to life inside of you the first time you watched the way he effortlessly operates on missions. One would have thought that, as you became familiar with his cold and merciless demeanor up close, his piss poor attitude with you and your fellow Scouts would help quell the frantic beating of your heart every time he was in your proximity.

But that wasn’t the case, not at all.

Rather, you found yourself even more drawn to him, craving the few and far between moments when you’d catch him letting his guard down. The moments when, despite his scathing remarks, it was abundantly clear just how much he cared about each and every member of the Scout Regiment.

The moments when you saw just how far he’d go to protect those closest to him.

And when you found yourself transferred to run under Levi’s command, stamping down on the inconvenient, endlessly smoldering embers of your laughably unrequited crush only became more difficult as you were forced into even closer quarters with him than ever before. The only thing that helped after that was Levi’s unfailing tendency to express one of only two emotions toward you at all times: stark indifference or annoyed exasperation.

Unable to formulate a smart response to snap into the scant space remaining between your mouths, you mutter, “You’re reckless, too.”

Levi places his other hand on the wall on the other side of your head, effectively caging you in, his hair brushing against your forehead. “Well you can’t be,” he seethes.

“I’d argue that your life matters more than most of the others here,” you offer plainly, meaning every word.

“Not to me.”

You roll your eyes, “Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you, Capt—”

“Your life matters more to me,” he cuts you off roughly, voice nearly breaking.

If it weren’t for the steady pressure of the wall holding you up, you would have swayed. “What?”

One of his hands curls into a fist, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I was furious when you were switched into my squad.”

Yeah, he’d been downright incorrigible for days.

“I noticed,” you comment, deflating slightly.

Your life? The lives of your fellow Scouts, of all of you.

Of course.

“That’s not what I…” He stares at you, eyebrows knitting together, a strange expression on his face. “You don’t know, do you?” Stormy slate softens to the soft gray hue of the skies after a storm as his eyes scan your face.

“I know that I annoy you to no end and you spent weeks petitioning Erwin to move me elsewhere,” you roll your eyes.

“Because my feelings make me a liability on the field with you under my command.”

Blood rushes in your ears, and your next words are so tentative, so small, “Your feelings?”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly underestimating just how unbelievable the words coming out of his mouth are. “I can’t think straight around you,” he chokes out, his forehead falling against yours.

“But you…” you trail off, trying to reconcile the conflicting meaning of what he’s saying with what you’ve come to believe for so long.

“I’ve been trying to avoid this, how I feel, because it wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s why I…act the way I do around you.”

Idly, you wonder if it’s actually possible to forget how to breathe. “What do you want, Levi?” you ask quietly, carefully placing a hand over his chest, his heart beating steadily behind his ribcage.

He covers your hand with his own and murmurs, “Something that would be really goddamn selfish in the grand scheme of things,” glancing down at the winged emblem on his jacket.

“And what if I want you to be selfish?”

A sharp inhale from Levi is your only warning before he cups your face in his hands and brings his lips crashing into yours.

Your body sinks into his embrace as he wraps you up in his arms, fingers splayed possessively along the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you hard, like he’s trying to convey everything that he’s been holding back, every touch he’s denied himself in your presence.

The cinders in your chest ignite, burning hotter with each press of his plush lips against yours, each nip of his teeth along your bottom lip. His fingertips are a searing brand on your waist as he grasps your hip, tugging out a small, needy whine from your lips in return, and his warm, answering chuckle has your legs threatening to give out beneath you.

You both freeze suddenly at the sound of two rapid knocks against the door, followed by the sound of Hange calling out, “Hey, did you want to go over those notes?”

The look Levi gives your notebook, innocently sitting atop the table, is downright scathing as he barks out, “She’s busy.”

“Levi?” Hange asks, tone brimming with curiosity.

“We’re busy,” he exhales, tilting his head up toward the ceiling in annoyance.

The answering noise that leaves Hange’s mouth can only be described as complete and total delight as they laugh before walking away, footsteps pointedly loud as they make their way back down the hallway.

Realizing that you had actually noted a few important things regarding new discoveries on Titan behavior, your eyes stray back to the notebook, uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just…”

“Absolutely not,” Levi cuts you off brusquely with another searing kiss, tugging you toward the bed in the corner of the room. “You’re mine tonight.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #dee writes

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lovemkx · 1 year

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Miles Kane with fans at Bear Tree Records, Sheffield - 07.08.2023

(via)

#miles kane #mk5 #bear tree records #Sheffield #fan pics

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bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months

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All The Pretty Girls - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by All The Pretty Girls by Kenny Chesney.

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 3.1k

I'm home for the summer, shoot out the lights Don't blow my cover, oh I'm free tonight I'm coming over, call all your friends "Somebody hold me", all the pretty girls said All of the whiskey, went to my head "Shut up and kiss me", all the pretty girls said

Bob took in a deep breath as he walked up the long, dirt pathway that lead to his parents’ farmhouse. It’d been months since he’d been back in Kentucky - years, even, and as he approached the sounds of the party his family was throwing in the backyard, he felt himself fighting harder and harder to resist the overwhelming urge to turn around and run as fast as he could back to his rental car, hop in and catch the next flight back to San Diego. He contemplated the excuses he could come up with to explain his sudden disappearance, but before he had a chance to figure out the minor details, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Bobby! There’s our favourite lil pilot!”

His uncle shouted from across the yard, coming over to him with a firm slap on the shoulder as he greeted him. Bob tried not to cringe at the juvenile nickname his family still called him - he hated being called Bobby. No one back in San Diego knew him as anything other than Bob - it felt more grown up. He was the baby in his family, often called Bobby in a condescending way to remind him of how much younger he was than everyone else.

He’d been the surprise baby in the family - born unexpectedly when his mother was 37, following behind four older sisters who were 6, 8, 11 and 13 when he was born. Now, at 32, Bob felt himself recoil internally everytime someone called him that, especially if it was his family. His dozen nieces and nephews were about the only ones he’d tolerate it from, and occasionally his grandmother - who at this point was over 90 years old, and who was he to tell her no?

Bob adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, forcing a smile as he turned to face his boisterous family. Growing up, he’d always wondered if he was adopted - he was quiet, reserved, and shy - the complete opposite of everyone in his family tree. In fact, it was a running joke with his older sister Kate that he was adopted. He believed it for a while when he was 6 - it explained so much about him, or so he thought. Until, that was, the moment that his eldest sister, the often bossy and in control Jennifer, pulled out the home videos that had been recorded when Bob was born - a sight that Bob still couldn’t erase from his memory, regardless of how hard he tried to.

“I’m not so little anymore, Uncle Don,” Bob said with a sheepish smile as his uncle pulled him in for a bear hug.

“No, s’pose you aren’t now, are ya? You got yourself a little lady now, Bobby?”

“Not yet. I’ve been busy - haven’t been stateside in months, actually. This is my first chance at leave in over a year. Just never bothered taking it, I guess.”

That was a lie - Bob had taken a couple weeks leave last year, but he spent it at his home in San Diego, refreshing the decor and repainting to make it more to his tastes and basking in the peaceful quiet of his new space. He’d spent a day or two wandering around downtown San Diego with his friend, Bradley, the two of them exploring the area together - Bradley showing Bob all the sites he’d remembered from photographs and childhood memories. Bob couldn’t tell his family that though - they’d be crushed to learn that he had time off and chose not to spend it with them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, he was sure of it. He just didn’t want to field all the questions he knew came with each visit. Nothing was off limits to his family - his love life, relationships, his personal details - he’d lost count of how many phone calls included a casual “So, meet anyone special yet, Bobby?”. He knew they meant well, but God, was he ever tired of it.

That was the other thing he’d grown tired of - watching his language all the time. His family was religious - far more so than he’d ever been, and the idea of swearing and cursing was scandalous to them, but it was something Bob’d grown used to in his 14 years serving in the Navy, between the Academy and on base. Trying to curb it around his family members was a task in and of itself.

“Robert!” His mother's arrival interrupted his ruminations, her fervent embrace enveloping him in a maternal cocoon. "Your accent's gone already, I knew California would be bad for you," she lamented, a tinge of jest lacing her words.

“Hi Ma, missed you,” He nodded, hugging her back firmly with a smile, “Relax, Ma, I’m still a Southern boy at heart, even if I don’t sound like it. Two of the guys in my squad are from the South too. Jake’s from Texas, Bradley’s from Virginia. I’ll probably find my accent again soon now that I’m stationed with them at North Island. At Lemoore I wasn’t paired up with anyone from here.”

“Ooh, Robert,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder as she spoke to him, “There’s someone who’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

Bob was about to ask who it was when the question was answered for him. He turned in the direction his mother was facing and felt his cheeks flush a bright red as he saw you. You and Bob had been friends as children - best friends, in fact. You’d kept in contact over the years, but eventually, around your 24th birthdays, the hangouts became less frequent, the phone calls grew further apart and texts took longer to answer, until eventually, they stopped. Standing in front of him now, eight years later, he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he ever stopped talking to you.

His mind raced with a million thoughts at once, visions of what life would have been like if he’d manned up and asked you out. If he’d decided to risk it all in high school and take you to prom, or if he’d asked you out when you went to university a couple hours drive away from the Naval Academy. He figured he probably would have married you, if given the chance to go back and do it again. Own a house with a big yard, a half a dozen kids running around, some just like him, with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and some just like you - a vision of beauty in his mind.

He snapped back to reality when he felt you wrap your arms around him, a wide smile spreading across your face. He hugged you firmly, not wanting to make his sudden desire to hold you close evident. For all he knew, you could be married with a family by this point - it wouldn’t be odd at all, not now in your early thirties. In fact, he felt like he was the odd one out compared to everyone he’d grown up around in Kentucky. Most of the people he’d gone to school with were parents to kids approaching third grade.

“It’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you pulled back from Bob’s embrace, sporting a warm, friendly grin.

“Yeah, it’s great seeing you too. Wow, it’s uh…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Eight years, give or take.” You nodded quickly, shrugging the idea off as you met Bob’s cobalt blue eyes, finding it hard not to get yourself lost in them. He always did have the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, framed perfectly now by silver wire framed glasses.

“How have you been?” He smiled as he guided you over towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and turning to look at you, “You want some sweet tea?”

“I’d love some, thanks Bob,” you nodded, remembering that he preferred going by that now that he was older.

As Bob poured two glasses of his mom’s homemade sweet tea for each of you, your eyes wandered over him, taking in the sight before you. The last time you’d seen him, Bob still resembled the teenage boy you’d crushed on throughout high school, but now, standing in his place, was a man. He stood at a solid six foot one, his blonde hair neatly combed, and a more adult style pair of wire glasses adorning his face, as opposed to the thick, dark square frames he wore throughout the time you knew him.

“I’ve been good,” you nodded slowly as you sipped the cool, brown liquid, the notes of lemon, sugar and black tea dancing on your tongue, “How about you? I heard you’re stationed out west now?”

“Yeah, I was at Lemoore, which is further north in California, but now I’m at North Island, in Coronado. Just outside of San Diego, actually. Other side of the bay.”

“How do you like it there? Bet the weather’s great, like, all the time, isn’t it? Much better than what I get out in D.C.”

“You’re in D.C. now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling softly, “Never left after college.”

Bob listened empathetically as you filled him in on everything he’d missed in your life over the past eight years. As you spoke, he couldn’t help but feel his attention wavering, not because he wasn’t interested in what you had to say, but because he couldn’t help but envision all the things that could’ve happened had he been brave enough to ask you out earlier. He wanted to kick himself for not trying for you - he’d always been fond of you. The sheer thought of you asking about him, and coming back to Kentucky to see him when he came home was enough to make him think of how much he’d screwed up before.

You felt yourself rambling nervously as you talked to Bob, trying to avoid any awkward silence between the two of you. You were so relieved to have this moment with him - just to talk to him again. You heard he was single, and you knew you still had unresolved feelings for him so when your mom had told you about the homecoming barbecue that Mrs. Floyd was planning for him, you knew you had to make the drive home, just to see what could’ve been between you both, and to see if anything remained between you.

As the night carried on, you felt yourself falling further and further for Bob - and now, you were left wondering why you hadn’t been bold enough to ask him out before. Why now, when it was the least convenient for the two of you, had to be when you realized this. You lived on the complete opposite coasts from one another - a six hour flight spanning the United States between the two of you. Although, the more time spent with Bob that evening, the more you found yourself considering taking a transfer to your job’s California office. Los Angeles was a much more doable three hour drive to San Diego - you could manage driving three hours every few days to see him if you needed to.

By 9pm, the party had dwindled down to a few members of Bob’s family, his parents, and you - everyone else having turned in for the night or headed home earlier. You, however, were staying a couple of houses away at your parents’ home, and could manage to stay as long as Bob wanted you to. He looked around the party, and, upon realizing he wouldn’t be missed anymore if he disappeared, he took you by the hand playfully, leading you to the old tree at the back of the property.

Nestled in the tree sat the treehouse you’d spent so many hours in together as kids, looking completely unchanged from when you’d last seen it. Bob smiled as he started climbing up the makeshift ladder, looking back at you with a mischievous grin - one you hadn’t seen in him since you were children.

“You comin’?” he ribbed playfully as he swung himself up into the treehouse, reaching his hand down to offer you help.

You shook your head, laughing at how ridiculous you felt, but quickly climbed your way up the tree to join him. He helped you into the treehouse, smirking at you as he adjusted his glasses. The treehouse was still decorated the way you’d left it - old toys sitting out on the table, a small toy chest full of Nerf guns and playing cards, a couple of toy cars and action figures joining them. Bob picked one of the action figures up, laughing as he held it in his hands, as if all the memories of you two playing together came flooding back at once.

“I forgot about this place,” you mused softly, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of forgotten treasures.

Bob nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he regarded the toy with a mix of fondness and amusement.

"Yeah, my nieces and nephews use it I guess sometimes. Glad to see they've left Batman intact for me though," he remarked, lifting the action figure as if to emphasize its importance.

A nostalgic chuckle bubbled up within you as you recalled the shared adventures of your childhood. "Hey, I remember that one! Batman used to come in and rescue Barbie for me all the time."

A playful glint danced in Bob's eyes as he remembered those innocent days of make-believe. "And then you insisted that Batman had to kiss Barbie."

"Listen, Barbie wanted to thank him," you protested with a playful grin, memories of imaginative play flooding back with each word.

"I think you just watched too many romcoms," Bob teased, his voice laced with affectionate banter.

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but laugh at the playful exchange, the echoes of your shared history ringing through the air. But as your laughter subsided, you found yourself drawn once more to Bob's gaze, the warmth of familiarity mingling with the weight of unspoken questions.

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if we dated in high school?" you ventured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting past and present.

"All the time, actually," Bob admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

"I always figured I'd end up marrying you," you nodded, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity as you confessed the thought that had lingered in the depths of your mind for far too long.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as your words hung in the space between you, each syllable echoing with the weight of unspoken truths and long-held desires. Across from you, Bob's expression shifted, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features before settling into a mask of gentle surprise.

The soft glow of the evening sun cast golden hues upon the scene, lending an ethereal quality to the moment as you both grappled with the revelation that hung heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, the world around you seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

Bob's gaze softened, his cobalt eyes reflecting the vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I… I never knew you felt that way," he admitted, his voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of fading daylight.

A rush of uncertainty washed over you, mingling with the warmth of raw honesty that spilled from your lips. "I think I just, pushed it away, you know? I didn’t want us to stop being friends over it or anything as kids." you confessed, your words a whispered confession carried on the breeze.

Silence enveloped you once more, punctuated only by the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. In the quiet of the moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hung heavy between you, a delicate dance of hope and fear weaving its way through the air.

Then, with a soft exhale, Bob reached across the space between you, his hand finding yours with a gentle certainty that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "Maybe… maybe we should talk about this," he suggested, his voice tentative yet filled with a quiet resolve.

As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a surge of courage swell within your chest, buoyed by the warmth of his touch. With a nod, you met his gaze, the tension hanging in the air melting away as you closed the distance between the two of you, locking your lips with his in a gentle, tender kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure connection. His lips met yours with a softness that belied the depth of emotion coursing between you, igniting a spark that set your heart ablaze.

The sensation of his breath mingling with yours sent shivers cascading down your spine, each touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced across your skin like a gentle breeze. In that fleeting instant, you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the world falling away as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

The soft murmur of the evening breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning as you reveled in the sweetness of the moment. His arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies, only the shared warmth of your intertwined souls.

For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist beyond the two of you, each touch a testament to the depth of feeling that bound you together. In the embrace of his arms, you found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of life's uncertainties. As you finally pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered on your lips, a lingering reminder of the passion that pulsed between you.

Bob’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he began to stutter as he spoke, a trait he’d long grown out of. “I, uh, I…um, that was…something,” he managed to spit out before beginning to ramble about how much he enjoyed kissing you.

“Bob,” you began, laughing softly as your hand gently rested on his cheek.

“Mhmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

#bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd

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famousornotbuthot · 2 months

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#Felix White #The Maccabees #86 TVs #Bear Tree Records #08.05.2024 #Will White

0 notes

eupheme · 1 year

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— seek you out, hunt you down

kraven x f!reader

rated e - 3.7k

tags: predator/prey kink, annoyance-to-lovers, outdoor sex, rough sex, references to oral (f rec.), teasing, implied established safeword, dom!kraven, possessive!kraven, softness mixed in because it’s me

a/n: something quick & smutty, based purely on trailer vibes

“We’re about five miles from the edge. If you can find your way out before I find you, I’ll let you take point until we get there.”

“But when I win, you’re going to do exactly as I say.” He rasps, the words slow - drawn out, “No more of that smart mouth. Understand?”

His eyes had flickered as you had paced. That swirling change, darkening from blue to black to gold.

Tracking you slowly, automatically.

As you had complained - tired of another day of him ignoring the map you’d been following. Insisting on taking you up and around and down and over.

So confident that he knew. That he knew better.

But, christ - you weren’t helpless. Calypso has sent you with him for a reason.

And maybe - perhaps - he was right, about some of it. Avoiding a flooding stream, picking around a jagged outcropping of rock. He did have a real track record, after all.

But he was so goddamn annoying about it.

A heavy sigh had cut you off.

The flex of a bare bicep, as his arms crossed, “Tell you what, sweetheart.”

Condescension dripping from the word as his eyes had scanned the horizon - through the forest of trees. Focusing for a second, before they were fixing on yours again.

“We’re about five miles from the edge. If you can find your way out before I find you, I’ll let you take point ‘til we get there.”

Your pacing had slowed to a halt, thinking for a moment about his offer. Stepping closer, as you scoffed.

A finger had pointed, twirling up into the branches, “No way. You’ll just use them.”

The creatures of the forest. His unnatural connections.

His tongue licked across his teeth, his look dark. Voice quiet, laced with assurance as he had smirked.

“I won’t.”

A moment, then, “Don’t need to.”

Your eyebrows had rose, challenging. Irritation prickling at his confidence, that need to best him rising.

“Fine.” You had bit out.

“Fine.” He smiled.

His own fingers reached out then, hooking around the thick strap of your belt, looped into your jumpsuit.

Giving it a sharp tug, as he pulled you between his spread knees. A slow drag of his eyes, starting at his hands, then up and up.

Tracing over your form.

A heat had burned, even then. Flickering to life, as his voice has dropped.

“But when I win, you’re going to do exactly as I say.” He rasps, the words slow - drawn out, “No more of that smart mouth. Understand?”

The look he had given you had made you shiver. Heated, as his face has tipped up to yours. Daring you.

You swallowed, before your tongue peeked through your teeth, to wet your lips. His eyes watching the movement, as you had nodded.

Letting go, as you stepped away.

“No cheating.” You reminded him, as you turned - starting to plot out your own path, “And I get a head start.”

A rough laugh, as he shifted fully onto the stump he was leaning against, slowly crossing his legs. Ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to feel the tremor of your steps, sending the direction you’d be heading.

“Fifteen minutes.” He had warned you, as his eyes closed.

“Go.”

A branch scrapes against your cheek.

A flash of pain that you ignore, a small flinch as you push past it and keep going.

Resisting the urge to look around. To check if you can see him - high in the branches above. Lurking behind a tree.

No, you decide to continue. A path's been set in your mind, during that brief second you had taken to get your bearings. Purposely taking off in the wrong direction, hoping he'd hear.

Changing course soon after. Wading through streams. Up and across logs, only to drop down half-way, to throw him off.

You think with the head start, you can make it. He was a tracker, but you were a survivor.

Keeping both of you alive, when the weather turned cruel. Stitching him up when he fell apart, when he was too hell-bent on revenge to care.

The plains were his home but the forests had been yours. A comfort in the shades of green and brown, some sort of internal compass that kept your path true. You just have to be a little faster, a little smarter, than him.

A branch snaps behind you, the sound echoing. A thrill shoots through you - fear and something more, something hot and twisting - as you take off at a run.

Not bothering to look, keeping your eyes fixed ahead.

Ducking past the tall pines and through the foliage. Your heart pounding in your throat as you eye a drop in the path you've chosen - a second before you decide to make the too-wide jump.

You land, a throb in your ankle, fingers grasping onto a shrub as you pull yourself up. There's a second as you think you hear your name - breathed out in the wind.

It makes you push on faster. Risking a glance this time, a second where you think you see a flicker in the dark shadows behind you.

Your jaw grits, as you fling yourself forward. Eyes fixing on the layers of green ahead. Where you think it's been getting thinner - some of those miles and a long stretch of time passing since you first began.

Bring the edge close enough to taste.

But there's another flicker, off to your left.

One that diverts you, a shift as you veer off-course, your straight line turning serpentine as you adjust. That spike of unease back again, with that same melding of something warm and smooth in your belly.

The rustle comes again, as you push yourself into a sprint.

Again, and then again. Echoing off the trees, a layering of footsteps that blend with yours - chasing you - until your head is spinning and each breath is coming in a short gasp.

Forgetting for a second, that this was a game.

A splintering jolt of fear coursing through you, that word on the tip of your tongue, for just an instant. The one that would end this, and bring him back to you.

But then there’s a whisper, that cuts through your thoughts. Pulling you back, as you recognize his voice. Making you remember that you had intended to beat him.

It has you skidding to a stop. Taking just a second to get your bearings, your head whipping around as you realize the footsteps have stopped.

That the only thing you can hear is your panting breath.

You see nothing. Not even a shadow.

That is, until his voice comes again - sounding so close to your ear.

“Found you.”

A cry is caught in your throat, as he crashes into you. Sending you both tumbling onto the ground, across the dirt and moss.

You’re able to roll, to push yourself up. But you’re no match for the speed that the melding of the serum and blood had given him - still rising as he’s already crouching over you.

His hand shoots out, as you duck to the side. Managing to get back on your feet - evading him for a second until the second dart of his hand finds its target.

Catching your arm, sending you down, again.

There’s a split second as you’re able to kick out. Hooking the toe of your boot around his ankle, taking him down with you. Scrabbling in the dirt as he shifts, pulling himself on top you - his weight pinning you down.

A grin, as his thighs slot with yours.

Your groan disguised as a shaky breath when he nudges purposely against your core. Straddling your leg as his hands grabs your wrists.

A knee rises, intending to connect with his back - but he uses the momentum to roll with you. Flipping you over onto your stomach, twisting one of your wrists behind your back.

The other fisting in the collar, pushing down hard. Scruffing you like a cat as he laughs - shifting onto his knees behind you.

“Good try with those tricks of yours.” Sergei sighs, with another click of his tongue, “But not good enough.

You’re panting beneath him now, all of that exhaustion catching up. A stitch in your side from the running, layered with the bitter taste of defeat.

“How did you find me?” You finally manage, as your cheek presses into the soft moss - a little wiggle as you try to break free.

There’s a hum then, at your attempt - a little jolt as he adjusts you beneath him. Pulling you onto your knees as he pushes down, leaning over you.

Caging you in, as he reveals his own trick. The words drawn out.

“I could smell you.”

His nose skims your ear, making you tremble. Lowering it to press against neck, just at the curve of your jaw. Inhaling.

The breath he exhales is slow, shaky. Edged with the low rumble of his voice.

“And right now… you smell like you wanted me to catch you.”

You moan without thinking - an unconscious rocking of your hips that sends the curve of your ass pressing against his thighs, nudging against where he’s hard.

A whimper stifled as he meets the shift of your hips with a grunt of his own. A hiss of breath through teeth as he bears down on the hand that wraps around your wrist.

Curving himself down until his mouth ghosts against your ear, and you can feel the warm curl of his breath against your skin.

“Am I right?” He croons - his voice low and smooth, as his hips rock lazily against yours, “I bet you are soaked, baby.”

You’re grateful he can’t see his expression. To see how right he was - how that heat has settled into a heady thud between your thighs.

A sigh, then, as he presses himself flush. Nudging the thick ridge of his trousers against your core, as your eyes flutter shut. Your teeth gritting, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Not yet.

Lips press against your neck, right where you pulse thuds. You wonder if he can hear you, too. Where the adrenaline has bled into need, if he knows how the beating of your heart has changed it’s course.

“You couldn’t get enough of me last night.” He sighs - and you squirm again, as you remember.

His mouth between your thighs, for hours. Pulling pretty sounds beneath the little camp you set up. Over and over, until you were trembling.

You’re brought back, as Kravinoff’s voice drops.

“And I know you’ve always liked the chase. “

You do groan then, some of that strung-tight tension going slack. A pleased hum as he leans back, letting go of your wrist. His fingers wrapping around your belt instead, anchoring you to him.

“Show me.” He commands, as you finally glance back his way.

Following the line of his arm, up past the curves of muscle. To bare shoulders - the straps of his leather vest.

To eyes that suddenly fix on yours, pulling from the curve of your ass, your spread thighs.

They ensnare you, sending your heart tripping. An intensity as their shade flickers to that gold again, above the tick of a jaw.

“You agreed to listen,” He reminds you, firmly, “So show me how much you want my cock, sweetheart. You’re not getting it until you do.”

Indignation lances through you, as you consider his offer.

But desire wins out, as it always does. That pressure against the small of your back easing as your fingers find the zipper between your breasts. Tugging it down - opening you up.

Reaching between your thighs, the quiet jingle of metal as you let the pull go. Your thighs shifting further apart, an arch to your back as you try to entice him.

Watching as he clicks his tongue, the slightest shake that sends his long curls brushing against his cheeks.

“Not good enough, baby.”

With your own muffled growl, your gaze tears from him. Fitting your hand between your thighs again - hooking around the gusset of your underwear. Tugging it to the side, where the elastic digs into your skin.

Baring you.

He hums then, his other hand leaving your hip. A soft moan as his fingers trace against your folds, sliding over your slick. Teasing, making a wide circle around you clit before he pulls back, leaving you wanting.

Glancing down at his fingers, where your arousal webs between them. Leaning over you again, nudging those fingers against your bottom lip.

You open for him, and he smiles.

“Do you taste ready?” He asks you, his fingers pressing deep.

You moan around them in answer, as the coarse canvas of his pants press against bare skin. As you taste the tang of your desire, as his fingers inch towards your throat.

The pressure on your waist lifts, the clink of his belt coming a second later behind you.

His cock hanging heavy as you suck, his thumb pressing on the hollow under your chin when your teeth graze purposely his fingers.

Pulling them free, glossy again with you. A low growl as the wrap around his cock, slicking himself up with a rough pump of his fist.

The fat head slides against your folds, bumping against your clit. You hiss his name, his smile slow and dark as he wraps your belt around his hand again.

“You’d let me take you? Right here?”

He’s pressing against your entrance now, the slightest tease before pulling back. Again, and then again, until your frustration wells up, before spilling over.

“Fuck.” You whine, “Yes. Yes, okay? Anywhere you want.”

There’s a rumble in his throat, then. A deep pleased hum, “You’re so fucking filthy, sweetheart.”

Then with a grunt, he’s yanking you backwards. Spearing himself deep into you with a sharp thrust as you cry out, your muscles clenching around him as he bottoms out in you.

He’s big - on most nights he works you open with his fingers. Making you come on his tongue, unable to resist tasting you before you’re coming on his cock.

Right now, you’re both too keyed up. That sharp snap of his hips a surprise, but your thighs are slick and damp with need. From his teasing.

From the chase.

He’s hushing you - his words low as he pulls back, a groan as he fills you again.

“You can take it.” Sergei grits out, punctuating each word with a rock of his hips, “Know you can-”

With each stroke the pressure twists into pleasure. Letting him tug you back to meet his thrusts, a moan pushed from you with each one.

Your fingers curling into fists, as your thoughts begin to turn fuzzy. His cock pounding again and again against a spot he found those many weeks ago.

When the lingering looks on the road to hunt down his father had turned to touches. Layers peeled away under the blanket of stars. Committing each little sound you made to memory - remembering exactly what to do to make you cry out.

There’s none of those soft touches here. He’s relentless - a steady pounding of his hips against yours. The wet suck of your cunt as you take him, loud as skin slaps against skin.

Your boneless beneath him. A pleasure building that has you trying to reach between your thighs against, but his thrusts send you off-balance.

A hand steadying on the ground against as he groans, his head tilting back. Hair swaying with each rock of his hips, curling clinging to the sweat on his forehead.

Your voice cracks on a moan, as you try to ask for just a little more. Needing that friction against your clit, instead of the teasing slap of his balls when he grinds himself deep.

“Sergei, please-”

His head tilts forward, eyes meeting yours. There’s a clench in his jaw that tells you he’s not far off, that he just as wrapped up in this as you are.

A moment, when you’re certain he’s going to deny you. A whine in your throat - coming out broken as he pulls himself from you.

Leaving you feeling empty, ripped away from the cusp of your release.

“What are you-” You’re hissing, before he’s shoving at you, pushing you onto your back.

Crawling between your thighs, hands gripping at the fabric of your suit as he hauls your legs around his waist.

Filling you again, with another devastating thrust. It had your back lifting off the ground, your hand scrabbling as you keen - catching on the leather of the cuff around his wrist.

Clinging to him as he tugs your hips higher. Keeping you arched against him as he angles himself until he’s stroking that spot again.

And Christ, you prefer this angle. All the better to see him, something you can’t appreciate at night.

The bounce of the claw against his chest, swinging from the cord. The press of the leather knife hilt against your thigh.

The snarl of his lips when you clench down - a hand leaving your hips to trace against the space where you’re stretched wide around him.

Still letting you cling to the other, as his thumb traces up. Hovering just where you need him, as his eyes flick up to yours.

You’re sure you’re a mess. Sticky, skin dewed with sweat. Your suit split down the middle, right down to your cunt.

But his lips curls - a flash of white teeth with his sharp smile. Finally letting his thumb press against your clit as you sigh, amused by the way you rock needily into his touch.

A moment of silence as he watches, before he’s confessing.

“I liked watching you run.”

His voice is smoky and low, eyes lingering on the flushed peek of his cock as he pulls out - before it’s buried in you again.

“Think if it was anyone else, you might have made it.”

An almost idleness in his tone. Like it’s something known, like it always would be.

But that’s before he shifts - letting your hips drop, as he leans over you instead. His thumb pressing tight circles as he arcs over you, as your hands wrap around the edge of his leather vest.

“But not me.”

A moment, as his eyes search yours. A predatory look to them, unblinking as he ensnares you, once again. The smallest shake of his head.

“No. I’ll always find you.”

A long time ago, it would have been a threat. Now, it feels like a promise, seeping into the cracks of your skin. Filling you completely, utterly.

“I know.” You breath. And then, with your admittance, his head dips - lips pressing hungrily against yours.

It’s messy, all teeth and tongue. You swallow his growl as he licks into your mouth, a little tug as you pull him closer.

The press of his fingers, this new angle, pull you back to the brink. So close you can almost sink you teeth into it - that mindless feeling drifting back into your thoughts. Everything else emptying out, as you try to grasp at your release.

He pulls back, only to brush his lips against yours. The bristle of his beard tickling your cheek, as his nose bumps against yours.

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” Sergei husks, “Know you’re close, I can feel how needy that little pussy of yours is.”

His lips press against your throat again. Teeth scraping skin as he groans, his thrusts turning shallow as he ruts into you. Leaving a mark against your skin that he soothes with his tongue.

Your grip on his vest allowing you to chase the feeling, using the leverage to meet the slap of his hips.

Until you feel it about to break, his name chanted out with each heady thrust.

“S-Sergei, please don’t stop. Oh my god-”

Suddenly, it’s crashing over you. Your teeth sink into his shoulder as you come, the moan high and muffled as you pulse around him. Scoring the leather as your muscles string tight - a mark that he’ll wear with pride.

“Fuck. Feel so fucking-” He growls - never slowing, never stopping.

Leaning into your release. The way it coats his cock, makes each thrust most slick. Easing back when you finally let go, only to catch his hands beneath your knees.

Spreading your thighs open and then back. Bending you near in half so he can be as deep as he can when he comes. His own pleasure a tight ball that sparks in his belly - a foot planted on the ground as he drives into you.

“So good to me. So fucking good-” He growling, before you feel the pinch of his hands, squeezing the flesh of your thighs.

Another sloppy thrust, as his lips part on a guttural groan. Grinding himself as you milk him - feeling each twitch of his swollen cock inside your tight walls as he spills himself inside.

A secondary pleasure flaring to life, as he marks you so thoroughly. Knowing it will be dripping into your suit for the rest of the day - the thought making him moan as he continues to rut into you until you’ve taken every drop.

Only then does that tight grip loosen - you legs finally lowering.

A hand under your head as his touches turn gentle, easing you beneath him as he settles between your thighs.

Lips pressing between the curves of your breasts, a contented hum when you finally have the strength to brush your fingers through his curls.

Unable to help chancing a look, your head tilting back. Where you can just see the edge of the tree line were breaks into an open field.

Not realizing he was watching until you hear a low hum, a rough sound of amusement, “Mm. So close, sweetheart.”

You scoff, but it’s light-hearted. Still too fucked-out to care about the wager anymore.

“But I won, which means you agreed to listen to me.” He reminds you, as he pushes himself up on an elbow.

Still buried in you, even as his release has begun to leak from you. The smallest rock of his hips, as he nudges himself deeper. As his head dips so he can brush his lips against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, as you feel him twitch inside you. Swelling, as he rolls his hips against yours.

“And I think we’re not quite finished yet.”

ahh thanks for reading - hope you all enjoyed! 💖

@inklore, @spiderispunk, @tarrenterror25, @celestianstars, @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok, @mrsdarkandyandere7, @peonylie, @tangerinesgf, @whatamidoingonthissite, @earth-elemental18, @labyrinth-of-thoughts

#sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven x reader #kraven x you #kraven x f!reader #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter

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