#fic request filled

[macawritesupdates]

Hi, I would like to request a jealousy Sukita one-shot with an emphasis on a jealous/possessive Yuji but it can contain jealousy from both parties. Smut would be welcome, Sukuna bottom, and Yuji trying to claim Sukuna as his if possible. How Sukuna reacts (amused, oblivious, pleased, affronted at the thought of "belonging" to someone) is up to you, I am fine with anything, please and thank you :)

And first response filled! Thank you for the request and hopefully I filled this request how you wanted! All requests will be posted to my fic "A Few Simple Requests" if you want to keep an eye on it, but I'll answer each ask with a link to the specific chapter that is there oneshot <3 >>LINK TO THE REQUEST HERE!<<

[cryptidghostgirl]

omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

[deliriousgrl-writes]

Riding nate in his room after a football game would be insane

YES especially if he was in a bad mood 👀

secret//nate jacobs x fem reader

cw: emotional abuse, male anatomy described, female anatomy described, secret relationship, unprotected p in v, degradation, fem reader tries to top for the first time, riding nate because he’s sad or mad or whatever’s going on in his pretty head, he’s rlly mean tbh, doesn’t matter because you’re obsessed with him and he is with you

you knew better than to try and open your mouth right now. nate was silent as he drove down the dark streets of your town, his jaw clenched and his big hand gripping the steering wheel hard.

you were nate’s secret, you knew that, and it hurt more than ever tonight. you had been watching him in the bleachers during his game, the stands crowded and loud. your eyes were on him the whole time, number eighteen and his tall form a force on the manicured green grass. everything was going well, nate was one of the greatest assets on the high school football team, usually being the one who won the games. but tonight had turned out different, nate had seemed distracted before the game, though you weren’t able to speak with him before the game had started to try and find out why. you had saw something different in his brown eyes, his usual pride and confidence missing as he set foot on the field.

east highland was winning, and you were smiling and happy, cheering with the rest of your peers and everyone on the bleachers. everything was going as great as it always did when you watched nate play football, the scoreboard letting everyone know that the team was going to remain undefeated. your eyes focused on nate, watching as one of his teammates threw him the ball, but instead of running, nate’s tall form stayed put. you weren’t sure what was going on with him, or where his dark eyes were looking, but he froze. it happened so fast from where you were seated in real time, but as you sat, wondering why nate wasn’t running to go ahead and win the game, time seemed slower. your heart began to beat faster, your brows pinched together, and before you knew it someone on the other team was knocking nate’s tall body backwards on the field. your eyes widened, standing up on the metal bleachers, worry ringing through you. you wished more than anything that you could run over to him, wanting to be beside him but were forced to watch as his teammates, coach, referee, and medic crowded around him on the bright grass of the field. you couldn’t be with him, because nate wouldn’t want it, he wished to keep you far away in his day to day life. out of sight from everyone. his secret.

you were still stinging with worry as he finally got up, his coach and the ref holding his tall body up, nate’s face looking down at the ground like he didn’t want anyone to see him. they pulled him off the field, away from your view while you were forced to watch the rest of the game. his team won, but you didn’t care, just yearning to be wherever he was.

nate usually spent time with you after games, after he was paraded around with his teammates, accepting cheers and smiles. you knew where you needed to wait after games, somewhere in the dark and away from any prying eyes, where nate’s silver truck would pull up and you’d have to struggle to jump in. so you waited, watching as vehicles drove out of the parking lot, people leaving and the bright lights of the field shutting off. you wrapped your arms around yourself, wondering how long it would take him to finally show up, wondering if he was in pain or was being taken to the hospital or something.

but he finally showed up, and that’s why you found yourself in the uncomfortable silence as he drove you to his house. you wanted to say something, all the words on the tip of your tongue, but if you said them you figured nate would only get angry, taking all his frustration out on you instead of himself. he would probably accuse you of thinking he was weak or something, a retaliation due to his own insecurities. he’d been seeing you in secret for about seven months at that point and you’d learned enough about him to know how seriously he took himself, how much he beat himself up for being any less than the man he wanted himself to be. who he pretended to be. it was his ego and more than ever, watching his tense body drive in the dark, his ego was bruised.

once nate finally pulled up to his large family home, you jumped when he got out, him slamming the drivers side door of his big truck with force. you winced slightly, your body on high alert when instead of opening your door for you and helping you get out like he usually did, he quickly jogged up to his front door. when you finally worked up the courage to make it out of his truck and into his house, you slowly walked up the staircase, your eyes scanning around the jacob’s family portraits, younger versions of nate making your stomach twist. his bedroom door was closed and you slowly turned the knob, walking into his tidy space, the smell of his room a small comfort to you. the sound of the shower running could be heard from behind his bathroom door, and you went to sit down on his bed, your heart racing as you wondered what kind of mood he would be in once he was in your presence again.

you’d seen how angry nate could be, how much his face would change and how his deep voice sounded when he screamed. he had scared you more than once during the past seven months but you cared too much to walk away. finding yourself clinging to him no matter how fucked up the situation he put you in was. it felt as if you were helpless without him, nate made sure of it, making sure that you had no one close in your life but him. even your relationship with your family was strained now, spending any ounce of free time you had with nate, one of his main rules for you. and you did what he said everytime, everything he wished. after all, you just wanted him. only him.

your eyes darted to the bathroom door once he walked out, seeing his tall, lean muscular body in only some tight black boxers, watching as he moved around his dimly lit room. a lump was in your throat, his hands pulling out some clothes out of his wardrobe, his broad shoulders tense. you shifted nervously on his bed, his soft duvet under the exposed skin of your legs under your dress. nate liked when you wore feminine things like dresses and skirts, and you quickly changed your preferences to meet his, always wanting him to enjoy the way you looked even if you were uncomfortable.

he finally sat on the edge of the bed and your eyes stayed on him from where you sat near his pillows. you could hear his deep breathing, his slightly tanned, muscular upper body on display. the clothes he’d just dragged out of his wardrobe were piled beside him at the end of the bed but he made no move to put them on. your heart started to race as he put his head in his hands, him not making a sound but obviously showing signs of distress. “nate?” you whispered, anxiety in your limbs.

you could see him take a breath before he spoke, his deep voice low. “what?”

his reply was a bit muffled in his large hands still covering his face and you found yourself feeling bad for him. you knew that he was beating himself up because of the mishap at his game and you wished that he wouldn’t, your heart clenching in your chest. you let out a soft breath before moving on the bed behind him, your fingers a little shaky as you hesitantly placed them on his broad shoulders. his muscles tensed beneath your fingers and he pulled his hands down from his face, his elbows still resting on his thighs as he turned his head a little to look at you before you spoke. “are you-”

he cut you off before you could finish your sentence, his brows furrowing a little. “don’t even start,” he interrupted, his jaw clenching as he narrowed his dark eyes at you. it was as if he didn’t want you to try and comfort him at all, to just ignore how he was feeling and what had happened during his game. it made you upset, though you would never say so, not wanting to make him angry. you bit your lip as he turned away from you again, your hands still placed on his shoulders. you knew he didn’t wish to talk about how he felt but you also wanted to do anything you could to make him feel better. to ease his stress and try to turn him back into the nate you usually knew, the one who kept you hidden from his world but would also be the kindest, most doting boy you’d ever met. the boy who’d secretly left sweet notes in your locker, the boy who would pull you into dark corners in the high school you both attended to flirt with you and make you blush uncontrollably. of course nate could be rough during sex with you, but you didn’t mind, you liked it, one of the things nate made you realize about yourself. no matter how hard he would push you, no matter how rough, he would wrap you in his arms afterwards and praise you. kiss you all over and make you believe that he really saw you as all the good things he said he did. that you really were so good for him. so you decided to make him feel better the only way he would allow you to, taking the lead for the first time since he’d been sneaking around with you.

you closed your eyes for a second before you started, still feeling the lump in your throat and anticipating a bad reaction as you started to press your lips to his shoulders from behind. you did it over and over, gentle and soft, feeling his hot, freshly showered skin beneath your lips and smelling the delicious smell of his body wash in your nostrils. you rubbed your hands down his toned back, still pressing kisses to his skin. you finally felt him start to relax though he didn’t turn to look at you just yet, making you still feel weary as you continued. you were nervous to even be doing this, nate was always the one who initiated, always the one who kissed or touched you first, but you kept going, starting to feel yourself ache for him as you ran your hands over the muscles of his back.

you were on your knees behind him now, sitting up a bit as you leaned your head over beside his own, pressing your lips to his neck. you closed your eyes, your small fingers climbing up his back to his shoulders before traveling down to his collar bones. you were enjoying how warm and strong he felt beneath your fingertips, how heavenly he smelled as you slowly kissed the side of his neck all over. your eyes widened when he suddenly got up, making you fall back a little on his mattress, meeting his dark gaze as he peered down at you. you felt scared for a moment, wondering if his mood still hadn’t shifted from feeling your lips on his skin, but it quickly dissipated some as he leaned down and crawled over you. his strong arms were on either side of your head as he hovered over you smaller body, his face only inches from your own and you felt his hot minty breath over your skin. you didn’t wait for him to speak or move, you wanted to be the one who made him feel good, you wanted to make him feel all the things he was always making you feel. so you reach your hands up and cupped both his cheeks beneath your palms, pulling his head down a little as you finally crashed your lips onto his. nate reciprocated the kiss, thankfully for you, and you pulled him down lower, wrapping your arms around his neck to get closer. he pressed his body against you, his body heat making your stomach swirl and you could already feel how hard he was in his tight boxers, his tip poking into your leg. nate’s breathing was getting faster as you moved your lips over his, your fingers going to tangle in his damp, short hair.

nate was always making you feel high off him, the way his hands touched you or his lips tasted making your brain go fuzzy and your heart pound. you moaned into his mouth when he pressed his hardness into you, making him bring his hands down and grip your hips, pushing you hard against his bed. a fire was building inside of you as he dug his fingers through the soft material of your dress and into your hips, his mouth beginning to move a little more hungrily over your own.

you wanted him to forget about how the game went, forget about all the stress he was under, forget about anything but the way you felt in his hands and how your body craved his own. and it seemed to be working. he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted your body up a bit, forcing you to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips. you could feel his cock pushing through his boxers against you, your dress concealing it but his hardness was pressed against your panties. it made your stomach burn and your body ache, knowing that he wanted you. you were still kissing him, your hands still in his hair as his own large hands ran up and down your sides. he pulled away, though his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it a bit before releasing it, making your breathing hitch. “what do you want?” he mumbled, his voice low and a bit breathless.

your face was already contorted into a needy expression, your head above his as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers squeezing a little as he gripped your ass through your dress. “to make y-you feel better,” you finally whined, his fingers digging into your bottom more. he nodded his head, looking up at you with his dark eyes, a sight that made you feel weak and like his prey.

“you wanna make me feel better? then let me use your tight fucking pussy,” he barked, moving his hand up to quickly grab a handful of your hair and tug your face down lower so that he was looking down at you. you whined, the painful sting of him pulling your hair versus how much pleasure you got from his cock still pressing up against your panties making you grow even wetter and achy. “say yes,” he commanded, narrowing his lustful gaze on you.

“yes,” you whined, nodding your head over and over. he pulled your face up to his again with your hair in his fingers, crashing his lips onto yours forcibly. his tongue traced between you lips, the taste of his toothpaste still on his wet tongue and making you whimper into his mouth. he released your hair, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you on top of his muscular body, his head hitting his pillows as he kept kissing you. you were straddling him, already lost in pleasure because of how intoxicating it felt to be wanted by him, a sensation you were always chasing it seemed. he pulled away, his breathing heavy as you stared down at him from above with wide, desperate eyes. he bucked his hips up, making you gasp in pleasure from feeling his clothed cock against your soaking core that rested in your panties still.

“you’re so fucking worked up already,” he taunted, “such a slut for me. already begging me to use your cunt.” his deep voice and degrading comments only made you ache more, already ready to start begging like he always made you. “i can feel how fucking soaked you are, even through my underwear. leaking all over my cock like a needy whore,” he smirked, shaking his head, “you like it, don’t you? letting me feel how much your pussy aches for me? i bet you want me to touch you right now and feel it? you want that, don’t you?”

you bit your lip, nodding and feeling him buck his hips up into you again, making you release your lip and moan. “don’t nod, say it. say, ‘i want you to feel how wet my pussy is for you.’ say it.”

he always made you say filthy things like this, but it turned you on so much. you really were needy for him, he could use you as he wished, however he saw fit and you wouldn’t complain. oh, how lost in him you really were. “i-i want you to feel… i want you to feel how wet m-my pussy is for y-you,” you stumbled out, your heat growing wetter as you said what he wanted you to say. he nodded, bringing his large hand up and cupping your cheek, his palm warm as he rubbed your face with his thumb.

“exactly. i know how much you want me,” he purred, his eyes peering into yours, “how much you want me to just fuck you until your fucking screaming. you know only i can make you feel that way right?” you nodded, actually agreeing with him. “now do what you said you’d do. make me feel better and take off your pretty little dress for me like a good slut.”

you immediately started ripping off your dress, so eager for him to touch your bare skin. you finally pulled it off your head, throwing it somewhere in his tidy room, leaving you in only your matching baby blue bra and panties. nate let out a breath, taking both his hands and starting to tease you with his fingers, tickling your skin as he started moving his fingertips up your thighs, over your hips and sides, before stopping as he got to your shoulders. your body twitched and squirmed on top of him as he did so, and you knew he enjoyed it. he liked teasing you until you were desperate for him, until you couldn’t take anymore. he smirked as he watched you shiver when he started pulling down your bra straps, his feather light touches making you squirm on top of his hard cock that pressed through his boxers.

nate pulled down your bra straps all the way, the cups of your bra releasing your breasts, your chest heaving, making them rise and fall, up and down as you stayed on top of him. “look at these tits,” he whispered, his deep voice still low, “your nipples are hard already. you want me to touch them, don’t you? yeah, i think that’d make me feel a lot better. you want me to feel better, right?”

“yes,” you whimpered, feeling his fingertips trace around them, the skin under your breasts and above them on your chest. you bit your lip, taking a breath when he finally started to fondle you. his big hands were warm on your skin, goosebumps raising all over your trembling body. the skin of his palms pressed against your sensitive nipples, making you let out a sharp gasp and choking you up. you looked down at him, his dark eyes directly on your face, an evil smirk on his lips.

“god you’re such a whore,” nate smirked, still keeping his voice quiet, “i can feel you getting wetter, you know? you like how my hands feel on these pretty tits, don’t you?” you nodded, already feeling overstimulated from his touch until he squeezed your breasts harder, his fingers dipping into your skin until it almost hurt. you let out a muffled cry, your voice choking from how worked up you were getting, from how turned on you already were. you’d do anything he said, let him touch you as he wished, tease you until he saw fit to give in. you let him be selfish, you knew that part of him would never change.

after his tight squeeze with his warm hands, he finally reach around your trembled form to unhook your bra, the blue material falling down over his abs beneath you. he grabbed it quickly and threw it somewhere in his clean room. “now,” he breathed out, almost rolling his eyes at you from how much you trembled and squirmed on top of him, knowing he could be rude to you right now because you didn’t care how he treated you in moments like this, because you secretly liked it, “you’re going to be a good girl for me and you’re going to take off those panties and you’re going to take my cock and ride me till i cum, okay? that would make me feel so much better.”

your needy face looked down at him, his fingers hooking into your cotton panties and teasing the skin on your hips, his eyes narrowing on you a bit and waiting for your submission. you’d never been on top of him before, never rode him. but he was asking you to, and he did say it’d make him feel better. you couldn’t help but whisper a soft, ‘okay’ and move off of his tall body for a moment, giving in despite your nerves. you slipped off the edge of his bed, standing there, feeling exposed with his gaze all over your body. you started to take your underwear off but he quickly stopped you as soon as you started, his voice sounding annoyed as he spoke. “turn around and let me see you bend over as you take them off,” his deep voice instructed you, a tinge of annoyance still evident in his tone, “go on.”

you bit your lip as you obeyed him, turning around and bending over slowly as you slipped your soaked blue panties off your body. they hit the ground and you stepped out of them, swallowing before you turned around. your heart started racing once you saw him, his own underwear off now and his thick, long cock in his hand. he rolled his brown eyes when you didn’t automatically step over and get back on the bed, annoyed that you just stood there and looked at his hardness. “do what i told you to do,” he sighed, his brows pinching together as he heard your soft rapid breaths, “i told you what would make me feel better, now do it.”

you nodded and crawled back on top of his tall, muscular body, the both of you now naked. you felt his cock from beneath you, your wetness resting on top of it and making your body heat up and your pussy ache painfully. his hands were digging into your hips, his nails painfully sticking into you as he waited impatiently. “stick it in you,” he gritted out, narrowing his eyes up at you again, “i know you don’t need any fucking time for foreplay. you’re practically dripping on my cock right now. so do what you want. you’re greedy like that, aren’t you? maybe you don’t even care how i feel or want me to feel better, maybe you just want to be a greedy slut and feel my cock inside you…”

“no,” you blurted out, blinking down at him as you shook your head, “i-i want you to feel better, nate. i want to do whatever you say that will help you right now.”

nate bit back a smirk at your words, looking up at the ceiling like he was trying not to laugh at you. he was cruel like that, but something about how his actions degraded you, only made you want him more. always wanting to please him. “okay,” he finally said, his dark eye boring into you, “then stop leaking all over me like a needy slut and actually take me.”

you quickly reach your hand down, lifting up on top of him a bit with your legs. your fingers wrapped around his large size and quickly pulled it up to your entrance, letting out a tiny moan when his tip hit your soaked entrance. he fingers dug into your hips more when you did, silently telling you to hurry and drop down on his cock. you shut your eyes as you lowered yourself on him finally, feeling him stretch you out, a loud whine leaving your lips as you finally took all of him.

“now bounce that pretty body up and down on my cock,” he instructed, or demanded, “make me ‘feel better.’” you started moving up and down on his length, the sensation new and pleasuring, the position making you love the way he looked up at you with his dark eyes, how his pupils dilated until his irises were almost black. his lips parted, pants leaving him as he kept his large hands on your hips and guided you up and down his cock. his deep voice let out a low groan, making you almost fall apart already, even if you’d just started. “you better not cum yet,” nate threatened, his words coming out breathy and dark, “i’ll be mad.”

you kept going, unable to stop the small whines and whimpers that left your mouth, his cock hitting your sweet spot everytime you lowered yourself back down on him. you shut your eyes tightly and he dug his nails into your hips again when you did, a silent reminder to keep them open and on him. you let out a choked whine, staring back down at him and trying not to cum, his chiseled features and heavy breaths from below you making you want to scream. “keep going,” he warned you, “don’t cum like a stupid slut already, you’re better than that. keep making me feel better, don’t be selfish.”

you would rather be damned than to not keep going for him, to not obey his breathy commands, so you kept up your movements on him. you kept yourself steady by bringing your small hands down to his heaving, broad chest, his black, hungry eyes boring into yours as you kept whining. you tried not to chase your own pleasure, trying to be keenly aware of how fast or slow you went, feeling when his legs would tense or when he’d groan so you knew you were making it about him. “fuuuck,” he groaned out, his eyes wide as he brought one of his large hands over your naked breast, squeezing as you continued to ride him, making sure to lift off of him and slam back down on his length, something that seemed to make his tall form tense and the muscles in his toned thighs twitch beneath. you were enjoying drawing these noises and reactions out of him, making him feel good, wanting him to praise you soon for doing good.

“you’re making me feel really good,” nate panted out, squeezing your hard nipple between his fingertips, earning a whine from you while keeping his other hand on your hip, “you wanna be good for me, don’t you? my little secret loves making me feel good.”

you moaned out a hitch pitched ‘yes,’ slamming yourself up and down his throbbing cock quicker. when he called you his ‘little secret’, it made you feel so dirty, but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tighten from the expression. you loved being his secret, loved that he wanted you all to himself and the fact that no one knew who you belonged to, only him and you. you’d gotten used to lying for him quickly, and now, seven months later, being his secret was your favorite thing to be.

you felt yourself about to snap, biting your lower lip until you tasted copper as you tried to remain concentrated on him. it was hard, especially because he kept groaning and egging you on, knowing how hard it was for you not to cum when he spoke or made noises. nate knew your body and reactions well, and he used that knowledge to tease and taunt you, to wreck you completely during sex. it was his way, and you couldn’t do anything about it, which he reveled in.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” nate choked out, “i can tell you’re about to cum. you better not, you’re doing this for me, remember? say it. say you won’t cum because you need me to fill you up first.”

nate’s demands and taunting sounded so dark coming from his deep, breathless voice. it was hard not to fall apart just from the sound, but you obeyed his command, your voice shaky and high pitched because of how much you were struggling not to come undone. “i won’t cum! i-i won’t! need y-you to fill me up first. please!”

nate let out a dark chuckle, grinning a sinful smile as he heard how close you were in your choked cry. “good girl,” he murmured, squeezing your hips with both his big hands, making you cry out as you felt how deep his nails were pressing into you, wondering if he’d leave bruises and struggling not to cum from the thought of him leaving his marks on you, “keep going. you’re lucky i’m about to fucking cum, gunna fill your tight cunt up real good. fuck- keep squeezing on my cock, i love feeling you about to fucking snap.”

“nate!” you whined out loudly, going as fast as you could on his length, his hard grip on your hips guiding you up and down and making you keep up your pace. he shook his head at you, denying your release, serious about you making him cum first. he was panting and groaning, his toned thighs tensing from beneath you, his grip on your hips never loosening.

finally, only a minute later, he was groaning even louder, his grip on your hips starting to slow your movements as he came inside you. you were practically screaming as you felt his length throb and twitch inside you, how his warm release was deep in you cunt. “there!” he growled out suddenly, his brows pinched together as his lips stayed parted as he breathed rapidly, “now you can fucking cum!”

that’s all it took, his permission making you twitch and moan uncontrollably on top of him as you finally found your release, even if your movements had stopped completely. you felt his cock start to soften inside you as he dug his nails into your hips still, knowing that simple action alone could draw out your orgasm further. your thighs shuddered around his hips as you finally started to come down, struggling to keep yourself upright on his body as you panted loudly in his quiet room. nate noticed, and despite liking the way you struggled, he wrapped his long, strong arms around you and lifted you off of him and down beside him on the bed. you closed your eyes as you tried to relax against his pillows, the muscles in your body beginning to grow tired as you finally came down fully.

he laughed at you darkly, something he often did when he saw how spent you were from him making you cum. nate pulled you closer to him as he laid on his side, pulling the soft duvet on his bed over you both to cover your bodies. “open your eyes,” he chuckled.

you fluttered your heavy eyes open and looked at him, the vicious smile still on his handsome face as he looked over your features. “thank you for being good for me,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and your cheek, making you relax even more, “you know that i do care about you, right?”

you nodded, wanting to believe him even if it was hard to decipher his true feelings. he nodded too, pressing a couple kisses to the side of your face, and wrapping you tighter in his arms. “so good for me,” he murmured against your skin, making a pink dust appear on your cheeks and your chest warm.

you never wanted this part to end.

[reidphobic]

Prompt 28 and 36 please!! :D

mdni. cw: sub!spencer, ass play (m receiving), feminisation. prompts here. part of the neighbor!au

wc 774. probably not what you were expecting, hope you enjoy anyway

you kiss spencer slowly, indulgently, moaning happily and twining your bare legs with his. “morning, pretty,” you mumble, rubbing your foot along his calf.

it’s one of his rare days off, and an even rarer day he’s agreed to spend the day in bed with you instead of planning an elaborate (wonderful, but exhausting) date. “morning, baby.” he pretends to just be shifting in bed, trying to get comfortable, but you can feel his dick pressing into you where he tries to grind against your body.

“did you have a good dream?” you tease, and he flushes.

“being awake’s better,” he answers, pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips. you make out with him for you don’t even know how long, content to let him map every inch of your body with lips and hands, map his in your turn. but you can feel him getting restless, and soon enough he breaks away to blink at you with lust-blown eyes, his lips swollen and spit-slick. “i want— i want you.”

you grin widely. “what do you want, honey?” spencer’s face is flaming. “if you can’t say it, you’re not ready for me to give it to you, okay?” you cup his jaw, smile at the slight stubble under your palm, thighs tingling at the prospect of feeling it between your legs.

spencer presses his lips together in a thin line, apprehensive. you brush your thumb reassuringly over his cheek, give him a gentle smile. “i want you to, um…” he fumbles for the words. “i want you to fuck me… with— with your fingers,” he murmurs, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

you can’t help but feel a little proud at his openness. god, he’s come so far. “all you have to do is ask, sweetness,” you croon, fishing under your pillow for a bottle of lube as you kiss at spencer’s neck and jaw. “you’re so pretty, baby. mommy’s gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

spencer writhes as you trail your hand down his body, and he whimpers out a plea. “why are you already squirming?” you coo, gazing up at him from where you’re knelt between his legs. “i haven’t even started yet.” you slide a slicked-up finger between his legs, circle his hole, his entire body jolting. “almost there, sweet, just breathe for me, okay?” you murmur as you slip one finger inside.

“mommy,” he chokes out as you start to thrust your finger, carefully add another. “i— oh, my god,” spencer gasps, incoherent babbling stumbling off his normally curated tongue. “please!” he moans after a few minutes of teasing thrusts, never quite pressing your fingers where he desperately needs them.

“take it like a good girl and stop whining,” you say, gentle but firm, and spencer’s eyes roll back in his head. “can you do that, honey? can you be a good girl for mommy?” spencer’s entire body convulses, mouth opening and closing like he can’t find the words.

you lean down, press a kiss against his chest. taking pity, you find his g-spot and spencer damn near screams. “oh, honey. so desperate,” you murmur, dripping condescension. “you want mommy to make you cum?” he nods frantically, chest heaving. “just gotta do one thing for me first, okay?”

“anything,” spencer promises instantly, voice shaking with want.

“tell me what a good girl you are for mommy, baby. just say that one little thing and i’ll give you what you want.”

you scissor your fingers a little, making him gasp and twitch, tossing his head back and forth and screwing his eyes shut. you press encouraging kisses to his chest and stomach. “m’your… your good girl, mommy, all yours, please!” he gasps, hiccuping through desperate tears.

“was that so hard?” you say softly, taking up a rhythm in earnest that drives him wild. “that’s my good little girl, honey.” after barely more than a few quick, sharp thrusts, spencer screams out your name, back arching as cum splashes across his belly and lands on your tits. you smirk catlike down at him. “feel good? don’t think i’ve ever seen you cum that hard before, baby,” you say smugly.

spencer winces as you pull your fingers free. “every time i think there can’t possibly be anything new…” he says, laughing through heaving breaths.

“you should know by now, sweetness. i’ll never be done with you,” you giggle, crawling up the bed to plant a kiss on his slack lips. “and, speaking of…” you pat his cheek. “i wanna ride this pretty face of yours. you gonna let me?”

spencer’s tongue is inside you practically before your next heartbeat.

[fakakta-art]

Batfam afikoman hunt for a request! Happy Passover!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hi jazz! How are you? can I have some actor levi please 🥹🥹

I was re-watching AOT again and realized how much I missed seeing him💔

A Sure Thing (Levi x F!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Actor!Levi Ackerman x Model!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: When you begin catching rumblings (HA) of your famous-actor boyfriend flirting with his co-star during the filming of his new movie, you begin to feel insecure and helpless to your suspicions. Lucky for you, your man knows a thing or two about Hollywood and how to make you understand that he is yours and you are his.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); No Titan AU; BF!Levi x GF!Reader; Famous Couple AU; Hange is Here Too lol; Jealousy GF Trope; Arguing; Insecurity Comfort; Daddy Kink; Mirror Sex; Facesitting; Levi Is A Munch; Deep-Dicking; Sex Against the Window; Spanking; Mild Choking; Creampie; Mutual O; Reader Cums 2x

Tag List: @madamechrissy

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for the request & for your patience, Anon!! I truly hope you enjoy reading this! I loved the idea of a Hollywood couple trying to keep their relationship strong despite all the shit that comes with fame + I'm a romance whore lol. I hope you like it! -Jazz

*************

You have never felt more lonely sitting in a room full of people until now. 

Especially since this room is full of so many movie moguls that you don’t personally know or haven’t heard of.

Actors, upcoming and seasoned, scriptwriters, directors and producers, makeup artists, designers, hair stylists, and every other person in the Hollywood movie industry fill the upscale nightclub that was purposely closed off for the night to all who helped with your boyfriend’s movie and those that were personally invited. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward and out of place. This isn’t the first movie industry party you’ve been to. Plus, the modeling world hosts plenty of parties that you’ve attended for fellow modeling moguls, friends, and fashion launches. And yet none of those logic helps your body relax. You sit rigidly on a plush two-person seat under the purple and pink lights flashing across the room, your cocktail in your hand. 

It’s a margarita. One of your favorites. But you’ve only taken about three sips. The alcohol does nothing to relax you or make you feel any sexier in your pretty, lilac-colored Versace gown, circuit 1995 with a slit at the thigh and draping across your ankles strapped in gold heels. You dressed to impress at this wrap-up party, but all you feel like is a clown. 

You finally have a reason to smile when your beautiful, talented, and sexy boyfriend captures your attention in the room full of people. Like Moses did the Red Sea, he parts through the throng of guests to make his way over to you, giving you that crooked smile that you adore so much. He looks so good in his hip-hugging slacks and the dark purple Armani button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He wanted to try to match you as much as possible tonight. 

Despite Levi’s cool and slightly-restricted appearance, he fucking melts when it comes to you. He wants everyone and anyone to know that you’re a couple. For all of Hollywood to understand that you are together and nothing can come between that…but you’re starting to doubt that. 

“Sorry about that,” he sighs, sitting down beside you. “Fans. They were drunk, so they didn’t take my nos for autographs and pictures as answers.” He rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his own cocktail: an old-fashioned with Bourbon. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, so glad to have him near. His presence is like an anchor for you. “You’re an actor and you were just cast in a big summer blockbuster. Of course, you’re gonna have fans wanting photos with you.” 

Levi smiles, but his eyes still hold worry. He never liked it when his fans or anything related to his demanding job took him away from you, even for a couple minutes. “So you don’t mind?” You tut, waving one manicured hand with glossy, red nails that Levi stares at a little too intensely. “I never do. I think it’s cute seein’ you interact with your fanbase.” 

“They are pretty cool,” he chuckles. “But I have one fan who trumps all of ‘em by far in the cuteness department.”

He moves a little closer to you, pressing the outside of his thigh against yours. You feel your body grow warm from the contact, wanting so much to slip off his pants and drag your nails across his strong, solid thighs.

“I wonder who that is,” you softly reply, just enough for him to hear and catch the flirty nature of your tone. 

A fire flickers in Levi’s grey eyes that only you notice, but you’re sure that anyone would notice the way he is eye-fucking you if they happen to look over. He places a hand on your back that slyly slides down your spine. You shiver, the fabric from your dress thin enough to feel the calluses of his fingers and the ridges of his rings. “You look fuckin’ amazing tonight,” he whispers. “I’m so ready to take you home.” 

His fingers trail lower, lower, and lower until you feel his hand lay on your ass. Very possessive. Very obvious. “Levi,” you giggle into your drink. “We’ve only been here for 20 minutes. Can’t you push aside your horniness for at least an hour?”

Your boyfriend leans in to toy with your ear, gently pressing his kiss to the space below your ear and your neck. Your weak spot. “For you? In that dress? Fuck no.” 

More giggles slip out of your lips as he lays kisses across your neck, eventually capturing your mouth in a kiss that manages to momentarily steal all of your insecurities away. After all this time, he still is so crazy about you.

You and Levi have been dating for four years now, having started living together in Levi’s high-rise penthouse overlooking Sunset Boulevard a year ago. You’ve even started secretly calling yourself “Ms. Ackerman” because you’re 99% sure that a marriage proposal is on the horizon. 

Levi Ackerman is a name everyone in Hollywood and in the general public knows. He has been an actor for as long as you’ve known about him, having starred in many movies and TV shows over the years. What he lacks in his short stature, he makes up for with his monumental talent, confidence, and looks.

His sharp cheekbones, angular chin, intense eyes, and sleek, black hair caught you the minute you saw him on the big screen…and again when you met him at a boujee-ass café when he was trying to escape the paparazzi.

Your meeting caused quite the stir when the camera crews snapped photos and plastered them all over the internet for people to scream about: Levi Ackerman, famous actor, and Y/N L/N, well-known supermodel. 

You’ve been modeling ever since you were in your teens, posing for department store perfume stores and clothing lines. You got your first deal in your early 20s and since then, have modeled for designer lines and walking in runway shows. You had the money, the status, the connections, the expensive trips, and the luxurious lifestyle. You thought you couldn’t want for anything until you met Levi and suddenly, a new world of possibilities opened up for you…until now. 

Levi’s wandering hands momentarily distract you, pulling you into his body. “You don’t even wanna know what I want to do to you right now,” he softly growls. “What I’d do to you if all these motherfuckers weren’t around…or maybe they can stay.” You place a hand on his thigh, feeling the heat radiating from him. “You’re usually so possessive,” you giggle. “The liquor must be gettin’ to you.” 

Levi gives a soft laugh in your ear that makes your pussy unfurl like a flower and gush. Everything this man does makes you wet. As he busies himself toying with your thigh slit, you turn your head slightly to see if anyone is watching. You immediately regret your decision when your eyes catch the sight of a familiar golden Roberto Cavalli dress. 

The same dress you wore to your last runway show during the afterparty three months ago. The one you took Levi to and it resulted in sex in a limo. Before you stopped receiving work and all the sponsors dried up. Before Levi finished filming his new movie: a historical romance set to hit the screen next summer. 

With his beautiful, popular co-star that you know he has grown ever-so close to. Your stomach drops and you grip Levi’s thigh a little too hard. “You okay?” he asks, worried. “What was that?” He pulls away to look at you, concern in his eyes. 

“O-Oh, I’m fine,” you reassure him. “That dress just looked like the one I wore during my last runway show.” Even you cannot mask the sadness in your tone. Levi’s face softens, his expression serious. “Baby,” he begins, his tone gentle and soft, but his next few words of comfort are stolen away when his beautiful, popular co-star comes waltzing over. 

Yuki Yarborough. Early 30s. Half English, half Japanese. Known for her talent as well as her movie screen-worthy beauty. She has the devastating looks Angelina Jolie and Margot Robbie have with her long, honey-blonde hair, almond eyes, creamy skin, and long legs. Her melodic voice and bubbly personality make her even more of a Hollywood IT girl.  “Theeeere’s my husband!” she squeals. “And you brought Y/N! My favorite Hollywood couple is here to celebrate with me!” 

Lately, for the past couple of months since the filming of their movie, you’ve been hearing rumblings and seeing unwanted tabloids of Levi and Yuki. At restaurants enjoying lunch. Laughing behind the scenes. Snapshots of them filming in beautiful locations, having passionate embraces and intimate moments. The internet has caught wind of these seemingly flirtatious and “too close” moments between your boyfriend and his co-star.

And because you stay online, so have you. It’s stupid. You know it is. Levi always comes home to you despite these rumors. But between this and your last runway show being three months ago with no work in near sight, your insecurities are getting to you and you feel as if you’re about to lose it. You cannot escape your jealousy or envy when you are with Levi at night, snuggled up next to him. 

Jealousy and envy that you feel for Yuki now as she stands before you, beautiful; a blonde beacon of light. All of it claws at you whenever you see a photo of her and Levi laughing together or happen to see her comment beneath one of his tweets or IG posts. You hate feeling like this: this feeling of lost trust, suspicion, and insecurity. You just don’t know how to stop it! 

“Hey, Yuki,” Levi greets, sliding his hand back up to your waist, away from your ass. “Y/N, honey, you remember Yuki?” You fix a smile on your face and nod. “Of course, I do. Congratulations on the movie wrap-up!” 

Yuki gives a haggard sigh. Her blonde waves and strapless cocktail dress are to die for, making your dress feel like a burlap sack. “Ugh, thanks. I can’t wait to shovel cake and alcohol down my throat so I can tell my movie diet to fuck off.” She giggles cutely, entrancing you. And then there she goes, sitting beside Levi, putting him between you and her. 

“Well, don’t you look dapper tonight, Mr. Ackerman,” she hums, nudging him with her elbow. “Definitely a sight for sore eyes, right, Y/N?”

She giggles again while Levi blushes. You try to laugh too, but it sounds forced. Rehearsed. Fake. You sip your margarita in the hopes to calm yourself, but it only makes those creeping negative feelings boil over. And as time passes, and your boyfriend and Yuki talk amongst each other, those feelings only make you slowly steam like stew. 

“Hey, did you hear Onyankopon is here too?” Yuki asks, taking a sip of her champagne. 

Levi’s brows raise in interest. You have no idea who they are talking about. “Really? Didn’t he just come from Africa and Australia filming a safari documentary?” 

“Yeah!” Yuki excitedly replies. “Hange told me she invited him! Oh, and apparently, someone spotted Zoro Rorona. Y’know, that one model?” Levi snorts. “Da hell is here doin’ here? Did he wander into the wrong party?” 

Yuki giggles at his jab, placing a hand on his knee. You gulp down more of your cocktail, feeling the alcohol make your body warm and your brain fuzzy. “Oh, and get this: my designer told me that Mario G’Vanci, that French director, is here too and he’s looking to…” 

It doesn’t take long for you to become the third wheel. You knew that as soon as Yuki sat down that you would be ostracized and cast out of Levi’s little circle. It is so painful to watch him turn all of his attention to her despite his hand on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin. With every peek of Levi’s laugh lines when Yuki tells a joke or every conversation that moves onto someone you don’t know, you feel oh-so alone. 

But when you suddenly see Yuki hand on your man’s arm, it’s about all you can take. 

Quickly, you get up, startling both Levi and Yuki. “U-Um!” you squeak. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” You leave your cocktail with them as you quickly head off towards the bathroom, gathering your skirts to avoid tripping over your dress. You can’t hear Levi calling after you over the music, but even if you did, you wouldn’t dare turn around. Not with the tears threatening to push past your eye ducts. 

You say quick “excuse me”s and “sorry”s to the guests as you push through them, scooting between spaces between bodies until you make it to the bathroom stations. As you’re making your way to the horrifyingly long line for the women’s bathroom, Hange, Levi’s best friend and agent, comes up to you. She looks so different with her chestnut-brown hair, usually in ponytails, out and curled. She has also replaced her power suits and jeans with a turquoise dress. 

“Oh, Y/N!” she chirps, smiling at you, holding a shrimp cocktail. “Darling, where are you off to? My goodness, you look fabulous!” You can’t even manage to give her a fake smile. Your stomach is roiling and your skin is crawling. “U-Uh, Hange, I’m not feelin’ too well.” 

Hange’s smile fades, her brows drawn in concern. “Oh, what’s wrong? Too much shrimp?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you decide even though you haven’t even consumed one single prawn tonight. Your eyes shift to the left and there, you see one of the exits. “Just tell Levi I felt funny and went home. I’ll see him there.” Hange begins to look around for Levi, much to your dismay. “Oh, well let me go get him so he can—“ 

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you quickly spew before you run off in your heels to the exit. You don’t stop until you’re pushing out the club and propelling yourself into the cool California air. You inhale deeply, catching your breath and calming your beating heart. You thought you were about to pass out. 

Quickly, you fish your phone out and send a text to Levi’s personal driver to which he immediately texts back, telling you he is on his way. Then you call Levi and with every ring of the dial tone, your stomach drops further and further into a pit.

And then you hear his voice message: “Hey, this is Levi Ackerman. I’m not here right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. And if this is another one of those scam calls, kindly suck my dick.” 

Of course, it went to voicemail. He is too busy galavanting around the party with his gorgeous costar. You try to push down the lump in your throat as you speak: “Hey, I went home,” you blankly say. “I’ll see you later tonight. Enjoy your party.” 

Minutes later, Levi’s driver pulls up and you get in the car despite the flashing cameras from sneaky paparazzi and Levi’s adoring fans who have caught a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. You only give them a weak wave as you rush into the backseat of the Range Rover and slam the door shut, telling the driver to take you home. He does so without question. 

When you arrive back at your and Levi’s shared penthouse, you walk in, tired and emotionally drained. The place is dark, empty, and still. Perfect for how you are feeling. During the ride home, Levi called and texted you. You didn’t answer any of them. At this point, you have disassociated from everything around you, including him. You don’t want deal with it. You don’t want to think about it.

Is it healthy? No. Is it right? Definitely not. But you just can’t right now. 

So the first thing you do when you walk in, you kick off your heels to soothe your aching feet, toss your clutch on the couch, and make your way to the wine cooler in the kitchen where Levi stores your favorite bottles. You go for the peach Moscato immediately and are just pouring yourself a glass when your phone dings from the couch. After finishing pouring yourself a goblet full of crisp wine and taking a sip, you walk over to your couch to fish out your phone. 

You wish that you never did. And you especially wish you never clicked on the IG notification waiting there for you. You follow Levi, of course, so whenever he is tagged in something, you get notified. And so you’re notified about the photo Yuki posted of him and her together at the wrap-up party. Where her lips are on his cheek. And he is hiding his face behind a paper poster for the movie. 

Yuki’s post reads: “Soooo happy to finally finish this movie after eight months of filming! I’m especially happy to have done it with such a talented and wonderful guy as my co-star Mr. Ackerman is! So honored to have worked with you & played your love interest, Levi. I’d do it again!” 

Your anger and envy is fresh, hot, and ugly. It coils inside of you and up like a snake, threatening to spill out onto the floor. Immediately, you toss your phone onto the couch like it burns and take an angered sip of wine. How dare she? How dare he? 

As if the universe is in the front seat, the elevator to the penthouse dings and in walks Levi taking off his motorcycle helmet. He had no problem using his baby to drive to the party, but insisted you get driven to avoid paparazzi. “Plus, I don’t wanna ruin that dress,” he explained. “You’d kill me.” 

Your boyfriend looks absolutely stricken with worry when he comes in, breathing heavily and his face slightly clammy from the helmet that he tosses aside. “Hey, I came as soon as I could,” he pants, immediately coming up to you. “I’ve been calling you for an hour now. What the hell happened?” 

You don’t even let him get an inch away from you before your phone is being shoved in his face. “What is this?” you hiss. He pauses, taken aback by your tone, and his eyes flicker to your phone before staring back into yours. “What is what?” 

You find yourself becoming even angrier just because of his confusion. He knows what he did. “This, Levi! Her and you!” You shove the phone closer to which Levi takes a step back, scowling at the phone screen. “You’re cuddled up to her like you’re her man. Like you’re her ACTUAL love interest. Just look at the comments!”  

So cute! My parents!! 

Did you guys go to the party together? You’d make a great couple! 

You both are so beautiful! My favorite movie couple!

Levi’s brows narrow at the phone and then at you, his eyes sharp and twinged with hurt. 

“Are you serious?” he asks, genuinely dumbfounded. “Y/N, they’re just comments. And all it is is a kiss on the cheek. Yuki is that type of person with all of her friends.” 

You scoff at his answer and his soft tone as if you’re a crazed animal. “The type to openly flirt with people’s significant others in front of them? And you never said a thing about it!” You slam your goblet down on the coffee table, still gripping your phone. Now Levi’s tone and his expression has shifted, becoming more and more irked with your increasing accusations. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. 

Now you’re really boiling. “I’m talking about you and your co-star!” you snap. “I’ve seen the tabloids. The coffee breaks and lunch dates. I’ve seen photos of you giving her your coat.” You breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you and Levi stare at one another. The entire living room has become a warzone. 

He continues to stare you down, wondering if he should engage. He decides not to. “I’m not doing this,” he huffs and stalks to the kitchen. You watch him go, pissed even more than he’s just walking away. “There is no possible way you actually believe the shit those magazines and blogs put out.” 

You watch as he silently takes a glass from the cabinet above his head and gets water from the fridge. You can tell he is also pent-up from the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps down his fresh, cold water as if he can’t get enough. You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. You should just apologize and forget all about this…but you can’t. 

You put your phone down on the couch, refusing to look at it again. “Listen,” you say, quieter but still firm. “If there’s something going on with you and her, just tell me instead of treating me like I’m crazy.” 

You jump as Levi slams the fridge door shut with a satisfying BANG! He then turns to you, his expression enraged. “Yes, you’re crazy. You’re crazy to buy into the shit these roaches post for money and to think that I would do something so horrible to you and ruin such a wonderful thing between us.” 

You stand there, frozen by his sharp, raised tone. Levi has never gotten loud for you other than in the bedroom. He is usually a man who keeps his cool, but now? You’ve pushed him there.

“We’ve been together for four years, Y/N,” he says, his eyes registering hurt. “You really think I would think so lowly of us to flirt with my fuckin’ co-star?” His grey eyes have rendered you speechless. You can’t find the words to speak. Your mouth feels like it is full of cotton balls. 

Suddenly, Levi lowers his water on the counter and returns to the living room. He reaches into his leather jacket and retrieves a small gold slip of paper. “Here. It’s an invitation to her and her fiance’s wedding this summer. She’s engaged.”

When he hands you the invite, you nearly drop it because your hands are shaking. 

“I…” You can’t bring yourself to say anymore…not with the tears welling up in your eyes. As soon as they push back your eyes, your face flushes and you begin to break out into sobs that destroy your pretty makeup and lashes. “I-I-I’m s-sorry!” you sob, dropping the invite to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Levi!” 

Your boyfriend watches you, crumbling on the inside at your tears. Wordlessly, he scoops you into his arms and holds you close against his warm, solid body. You embrace him back, pressing your nose into his collar. His intoxicating scent of his spicy cologne and body wash of sandalwood relaxes you, making you want to roll in the aroma. 

Before you know it, he is walking you over to the couch and sitting you in his lap, hooking your legs over his. He presses a hand to your cheek, coaxing you to show your teary, mascara-stained face. “Look at me,” he softly demands. You do as you are told, sniffling and allowing your boyfriend to wipe your tears with his thumb. “Talk to me. That’s an order, baby, and I’m not takin’ silence as an answer.” 

Levi has completely entered Daddy mode: gentle and comforting but firm. You stare down at your hands in your lap, shame overwhelming you. “I’ve just been feelin’ kinda…unsexy lately,” you confess. 

“Why?” he gently demands. He asks it incredulously as if you truly are insane. “Because of what?”

You flush with embarrassment. This is so lame. “Because I haven’t had much work lately after my last runway show. Things have just been kinda dry.”

Levi gently strokes your back, his touch soothing you. “But that happens to anyone in Hollywood, baby. I’ve had dry periods before, but work always comes to those who care about their careers.” 

You continue to stare at your hands, not wanting to see the sympathy or pity in your boyfriend’s eyes. You feel pathetic as you sound. “So what’s this about feelin’ unsexy?” he asks. “Is it just because of your modeling?” 

You know it is futile to lie. He’ll know that you are. Levi knows you too well. “No,” you sigh and cringe from your utter humiliation. “It’s also because of your co-star. She’s just so beautiful and perfect and popular and–”

You can’t get the rest of your blubbered reasoning out because suddenly, you are being hiked up and tossed over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

You gasp as Levi stands and storms towards the steps with you in tow, one arm wrapped securely around your waist. “W-What are you doing?!” you squeak, your feet dangling from his shoulder.

You can only watch Levi’s firm ass as he walks up the steps one at a time. “Teachin’ you a fuckin’ lesson,” he growls. 

You feel your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip-flop. You know what that means and you have no time to prepare yourself. All you can do is cringe when Levi slams the door to your shared master bedroom shut and squeak in surprise when he lowers you down onto the king-sized bed.

He doesn’t let you speak or breathe. Instead, he traps you between his arms and swoops in to give you a sloppy, passionate kiss laced with the taste of Bourbon on his tongue and Moscato on yours. 

You moan at the taste and the feeling of Levi’s warm tongue caressing yours. His lips, so plump, warm, and soft, seem to steal every bad thought from your brain. But then he is pulling away and his grey eyes narrow, meaning that this isn’t the time for lovey-dovey shit. “Come the fuck here,” he growls. He sits down beside you and grabs you, forcing you over his lap.  

You gulp as you feel his hand peel your gown up to show your Savage Fenty thong that you purposely wore in hopes of drunk sex after the wrap-up party. You feel him twitch underneath you and it makes you throb. “Levi–” 

“Shut up,” he orders. You immediately button your lip. You’ve really pissed him off. “The only thing I wanna hear outta of that mouth right now are those sounds you make when I spank that ass. I’m gonna make sure you never talk about yourself like that ever again.” 

SPANK! 

You weren’t anticipated the first swat of his hand to be so rough or hot. Fire licks across your ass, only burning more because of his rings. “Ow!” you exclaim. Levi lays his palm down and gently strokes your asscheeks, soothing the sting. “Hurts, right?” he asks. “That’s how I felt when you told me how unsexy you feel. You hurt me to my heart, baby.” 

SPANK! 

You flinch at the second assault on your ass, tears once again springing into your eyes from the harsh feeling. “Don’t you realize how fuckin’ gorgeous you are? How beautiful you are? How many times you’ve gotten me hard just from the thought of you?” 

SPANK! SPANK! 

“So many times I’ve raced to my trailer to fuck my hand to the thought of you,” he growls. “So many times I’ve said your pretty name and came durin’ my lunch breaks. You drive me fuckin’ insane, baby.” 

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! 

Your body feels like jelly and your mind has gone blank from the constant assault on your asscheeks. You are sure that Levi has left handprints at this point with how harsh his hits are and the way your butt recoils against his palm. The pain is just too much…though it does make your pussy wetter than before. “Levi, please!” you squeal. “I’m sorry!” 

Levi pauses, his hand in mid-air. “Sorry for what, doll?” he asks. His cock twitches underneath you, pushing through the fabric of his slacks, desperate to be freed. “F-For talking bad about myself,” you whimper. “For being bad and hurting you. For not trusting you and not being honest with you.” 

Levi’s eyes grow soft as they roam over you, his sweet, talented, beautiful girlfriend tossed over his lap with your ass exposed for him. He thoughtfully strokes your asscheeks, soothing the sting of his spanks. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “That’s such a sweet apology…but it ain’t enough.” 

Gently, he sits you up and pins you to the spot with his intense gaze. “I’m gonna make you sorry. And I’m gonna make you believe and understand that I’m your man, and nothing will change that.” 

You feel your body grow hot with anticipation, excitement, and a little bit of fear. It is a confusing cocktail. “H-How?” you ask, swallowing hard. Your boyfriend gives you a smile full of wicked promises and deviance. “Just watch me.” He looks up to the ceiling. “And watch yourself.” 

You look up too and sure enough, there is the mirror that you begged Levi to keep staring back at you. “What do you–” 

He cuts you off, placing his hand on your chin. “Lemme explain it to you, darling: you’re gonna sit on my face and ride my tongue until you cum. Then I’m gonna finally slide my cock inside of that pretty little pussy and make you cry because I’m givin’ you too many orgasms. And when I do all of that, you’re gonna look dead in that mirror and watch your beautiful self when you cum for me over and over again.” 

His grip on your chin grows tight, forcing your head to be directed at him only. “And you won’t look away. You won’t protest. You won’t dictate. You won’t whine or give me any of those bratty quips. You’re gonna be my good little girl and do as your man says because he knows best.” 

He cocks his head to the side, sizing you up, almost daring you to argue about this. “Am I understood?” You know better than to say anything except for what he wants to hear. Besides, the idea of your boyfriend dedicating tonight to cumming your brains out makes you wetter than you can express. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper. 

Levi gives you a proud smile before he leans in to kiss you, capturing your lips in another longing kiss. You melt into his touch, his kiss, and his scent instantly, becoming a puddle for her. “That’s my baby,” he coos. He then begins to strip, smirking when you stare as each article of clothing is tossed aside. Your eyes indulge in his toned physique from years of movie workouts and lean diets. 

You want to run your fingers and tongue over each rippling muscle. Especially the one swinging between his legs that you consider a muscle by itself. Levi’s dick is by far the most beautiful one you’ve ever seen: long, curved, and two-toned with heavy balls to suck on and the promise of endless ropes of cum near. You can feel yourself gush and soak your thong as he lays on the bed, his thighs slightly open so his cock throbs, pulses, and stands at attention for you. “Now get the fuck up here,” he raspily demands. 

You don’t bother taking off your dress and Levi doesn’t tell you to. You both know that he’ll get it dry-cleaned this week. You just strip off your soaked thong and hurry to sit on your man’s handsome face. 

For the next ten minutes, Levi makes it his personal mission to make you cum with his mouth as you sit on his face. His hands securely grip your hips to keep you steady as his tongue and lips slurp and caress every inch of your sobbing, wet pussy. In this position, he can get everything. All of you. And you can’t run or hide from it. All you can do is grind your hips against his mouth and moan as your sensitive clit is stimulated.  

“Oh, my God,” you moan. “Levi, yes.” Your eyes flutter shut as your head lulls back, staring at the ceiling above. 

“Mmm-hmm,” he appreciatively moans, the sound muffled by your thighs squeezing his face between them. His tongue begins to move faster, flicking against your slit before he slips inside of you, emitting a louder moan from your quivering lips. “Oh, my God!” you wail. “Fuck, Levi, please!” 

Your eyes pop open and you see yourself staring back in the mirror above. Your tits are nearly popping out of your designer dress and your mascara is coating your cheeks, ruined from your crying session earlier. Levi lays underneath you, his hands massaging your ass and muffled moans leaving his lips as he dives into your pussy, joyfully slurping and drinking up all you give him. 

His cock twitches and throbs between his thighs, just out of reach. Your mouth salivates to suck on him and your hands itch to stroke him. Your man just has such a wonderful cock. You begin to reach forward, momentarily looking away from the mirror. “Want you,” you softly whine. “I wanna taste you too, Lee.” 

SPANK! 

You let out a loud squeak as Levi smacks your ass. Hands off.

You whimper out an apology, criticizing yourself for being a greedy slut as your boyfriend continues to indulge himself in your cunt. His pussy-eating is passionate, greedy, and relentless. He has every intention of making you cum. Your hips shamelessly whine and grind on his face, riding it like one would a surfboard, as you feel your orgasm cresting.

“Oh, fuck!” you loudly gasp. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 

Levi groans in need, his hands massaging the globes of your ass as his tongue moves faster, flicking against your clit while his nose slides across your asscrack. Every part of you is sensitive, including your tits. You massage and grab them yourself, stimulating your nipples as you work your pussy on Levi’s face, chasing your orgasm. 

When you cum, you watch your face in the mirror as you do and every little feature and line that pulls and extends when your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Your glossy mouth stretches open as strings of moans and gasps leave it. Your tits jiggle as you grind out your orgasm. Your hair has fallen out of its pinned updo, messy and the only evidence of what’s happening tonight. 

You can’t believe how beautiful you look cumming. Is this what Levi sees? When your orgasm finally fades, you slowly peel yourself off of Levi’s face and roll onto your back beside him, breathing heavily. Levi’s face glistens with your juices to which he licks off of his lips. The rest of it he uses the tissues on the bedside table to clean up, dabbing at his chin and jaw. 

As you watch him, you fall deeper and deeper in love with him. Any man who can spend time pleasing you like that is a keeper. “Oh, Levi,” you sigh, smiling. “That was–” 

Your sweet words are cut off when the actor suddenly pounces on you, pushing your thighs apart to show off your pussy, soaked and glistening from your orgasm. He is damn near erratic with arousal, his grey eyes darker and his cock throbbing so much that you can tell it aches. “Not done with you yet,” he hisses. “You still need to understand. Still need to make you understand.” He tosses your legs over his broad shoulders and pulls you into him, making you gasp as his cock kisses your clit. 

You have no choice but to lay there and allow him to take you. You watch as he takes his cock and gently slaps it against your clit, emitting lewd, sticky sounds from the contact and moans from deep within you. “Levi,” you whimper. “Daddy, please.” You can feel yourself becoming desperate, your body aflame with it. 

Levi stares you down with intense adoration, so much so that it makes you blush. “I’ll give you what you need, baby,” he coos. “Just keep lookin’ up for me. Look at the mirror while I fuck into your pretty body, okay?” He presses a hand to your cheek and gently caresses it, his thumb gliding along your bottom lip. 

You press your lips against his thumb, giving him a kiss that makes his cock twitch against your pussy. “Okay,” you whisper. 

That is enough to make Levi damn near feral. As if freed because of your obedience, he finally slides his cock inside of you, drawing a gasp out of you. With his hands grasping the headboard behind you, he begins to slowly grind his lips against yours, drawing his cock in and out of your soft, wet, heavenly cunt that plunges him deeper into heaven every time he thrusts in.

“Oh, my God,” he groans, his gorgeous face etched in pleasure. 

You stare up into the mirror over his shoulder, watching your face and your beautiful boyfriend as he fucks you. You watch yourself grip his firm ass as his hips jut in and out, up and down, and his back muscles contort.

Each passing second makes your eyes blow and your mouth fall agape as if shocked by what you’re experiencing…and you are. No matter how many times Levi fucks you, you will always be shocked by how fucking good it feels. 

When he finally begins to speed up, it is all over for you. You can’t stop your moans from growing louder or your pussy from squelching around his pulsating, pistoning dick plunging in and out of the velvety soft walls of your cunt. Levi is a great fucker as he is an actor, pounding your pussy into the bed like it is his top priority. Your clit feels like it’s about to fall off from the constant stimulation as Levi’s pelvis rubs against it, his movements precise and so mean. 

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. “L-Levi! D-Daddy! Wait, wait, slow down! You’re gonna make me–” 

“Cum again?” your boyfriend chuckles in your ear. “That’s the idea, babycakes. Cum when you want to, but I need you to keep lookin’ at that goddamn mirror. Don’t make me tell you again.” He wraps a hand around your throat and moves his head to the side, allowing you to see yourself in the mirror above as he continues to fuck you. 

“Who is that, huh?” he groans through gritted teeth as your pussy wraps around him, stroking him from his balls to his tip. “Who’s that sexy, pretty girl gettin’ fucked by her man, hm?” 

You can only whimper and whine in pleasure. Words cease to exist. Your mind is blank from Levi’s cologne in your nose and his dick filling you up. His hand grips your throat tighter, causing your mouth to stretch open wider.

“I can’t hear you, gorgeous,” he whispers. “Tell Daddy who that is. Who am I in right now? Who’s feelin’ good and sexy and perfect right now?” 

He fucks you harder, faster, making the bed shake beneath you. “Me!” you loudly sob, so loud that you’re sure the entire world hears it. “It’s me, Daddy, fuck!” 

Shockingly, Levi stops for a moment, but before you can ask why, he snatches you up. “Come here,” he demands as you giggle, delirious from the pleasure and the adoration you feel pouring inside of you. “I usually don’t like people oglin’ you, but tonight, I’ll make an exception.” 

With his cock still inside of you, he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you over to the spacious skyline overlooking the beautiful city lights of LA. Dozens of twinkling diamonds that could be windows of homes, cars, and people. You have no time to admire the beauty because Levi is setting you down and turning you around so your back is to him. 

“Put your hands on the window,” he whispers, his voice making you shiver. “I want everyone to see my pretty woman gettin’ fucked. I want everyone to see who the fuck I belong to.” You do as told, pressing your hands against the cool glass of the window and not-so-subtly wiggling your ass for him in your dress. 

Your body shivers in delight as your man peels your dress up to expose your ass and presses himself against you, slipping his cock out to readjust. “Know that every girl out there is jealous of you, baby. Not ‘cause you’re with me, but because you’re so perfect.” 

When he slips back in, all words are gone for a moment. You share a long, loud, longing moan as his cock settles back home inside of you, filling you up and taking all of your insecurities away with one stroke. “My favorite little supermodel,” he groans as he sinks deeper inside of you. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?” 

As he begins to fuck into you, with one hand on your ass with the other massages one of your titties, you propel into the window and nearly smack into it, only saving yourself with your hands. His cock is just too good. His sex is too wonderful. And all of it is for you. “Fuck, Lee, I love you so much!” you moan, your face pressed up against the cold glass. 

Through his grunts, Levi breaks out into a smile that you hear when he answers you. “I love you too, baby. Let me show you just how much.” 

He then proceeds to fuck you dumb against the window, all for the city of LA to witness. You picture them all in their homes across from yours and walking in the night, happening to look up and see you with your tits pressed against the window as you’re bent over and pounded by your actor boyfriend. When Levi begins to speed up, you frantically rub your clit in circles, wanting so desperately to cum with your man. 

“I’m about to cum, baby,” he warns, his lips at your ear. “You’re gonna cum with me, right? You’re gonna let yourself feel good on my dick, right?” With his hands gripping your ass, you begin to push yourself back into him, fucking him back, causing the sound of clapping to drift in the air.

“Yes, yes, I promise, Daddy!” you whine, unable to keep yourself from unraveling. “Please cum with me! Fill your babygirl up, please!” 

Levi lets out a groan worthy of a porno as he continues to fuck you, the both of you meeting each other’s thrusts as you chase your orgasms together, determined to make each other meet your ends.

When you both cum together, there are no words. They aren’t necessary or needed. Not when Levi is gripping your body tight to him as if you’ll vanish if he doesn’t as he fills your pussy up with ropes of his spunk, loading pump after pump of cum into you until it is dripping down your thighs. 

And not when your pussy is quivering and slipping around him, stroking his length as your orgasm takes over and makes your body shake, leaving nothing but a smile in its place on your lips. 

When your orgasmic high finally fades, you are both full of post-orgasm giggles, heated kisses, and shaky limbs. Levi gently turns your face to his and presses a soft kiss to your lips, ending the rough fucking on a sweet and romantic note. But that’s just Levi. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.” 

You allow your boyfriend to peel you out of your dress and carry you to the bathroom where he proceeds to wrap you up in a fluffy robe that matches his. He begins to run a hot bubble bath for the both of you, one scented with lavender and chamomile to relax you. He also adds in a bath bomb (because he secretly loves them) and applies a few drops of essential oils to the water. 

Once the bubbles are there and the water is warm to the touch, Levi helps you into the tub and sits down with your back against his front. You sigh in contentment as you lean back into his pecs, melting into him when he wraps his arms around you. “So do you believe me now?” he asks. 

Tiredly, you nod, all of what happened earlier almost forgotten about because of how wonderful you feel. “Yes, I do, Levi. Thank you.” You take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles, right on his rings. “And thank you for always being there for me.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tender and sweet. “I’ll always be here for you,” he whispers. “This is a sure thing, darling. Why else would I wanna marry you?” 

THE END.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: guns

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, gun kink, p in v sex, unprotected bc dont be fcking dumb!, hand kink as well kind of, f receiving oral and handjob, blowjob, being fucked by the gun (silencer), mild degradation but also praise, mentions of drug dealing, somehow still soft rafe idk yall im unable to write rafe being anything but a softie

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks

your eyes widen at the glint of black metal in the low lighting, watching the way rafe works the rag over the piece. you control your gasp when you realize what it is that you’re holding, but you can’t help but take a step back in shock. 

you stumble, not realizing how close you were to the hallway table that decorates your home. rafe looks up at the noise, his eyes meeting yours. you can’t tell what emotion crosses his face. he simply sets the handgun down on the coffee table, still partially disassembled.

“rafe-” you begin, but you don’t have the words to finish as he stands up, stalking over to you, his usually comforting figure suddenly imposing when shrouded in the darkness of night.

“baby.” rafe says softly, taking your face in his large hands. “what are you doing awake?” “i-i heard you come in, and i waited for you to come lay down and when you didn’t i came to check on you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of your house, rafe hears you clear as day. he stands still, and you take the moment to apologize, “i’m sorry.”

rafe lets out a deep breath, his face reading the guilt of your apology. “it’s okay.” he presses his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he holds you to him. it takes you a beat, but you wrap your arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

“come here.” rafe says after a moment, sliding his hand down your back and leading you into the living room instead of hiding in the hallway. you take cautious steps, eyes on the disassembled gun on the table. 

“sit down.” rafe keeps his voice gentle, but it’s a command, not a request. you sit down on the couch, and rafe slides next to you. he gives you a moment to look at the pieces of metal on the table. 

you know why rafe has a gun. he tries to keep that part of his life silent, but you know he helps run the drug scene on the islands of the outer banks. you’ve never been exposed to the violent nature of what he does but you’ve helped him count money and sort packages. he protects you when it comes to the actual sale, you haven’t even met one of his clients, at least not that you know of.

“it’s okay rafe, i knew you had a gun.” you say. you’ve seen him discreetly tuck it into his waistband when you’ve been out, and did not fail to notice the way he keeps it on his bedside table when he thinks it’s too dark for you to see at night.

“but you haven’t really seen it before baby.” rafe picks up what looks to be the frame of the gun, and he turns it over, showing you all the different sides before placing it on your lap. he gives a nod of your head and you pick it up, surprised that the disassembled part is still so heavy.

“should i- should i learn how to…?” you ask, not having the heart to tell him that you want to, because if anything happens to rafe, you want to be able to protect him as well, even though he doesn’t need it.

“if you want to, i’ll teach you.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, taking the metal back out of your hand. he begins to explain the different pieces of the gun and what they do as he reassembles it. your eyes track the movements of his hands, his slender fingers moving each part into place. you bite your lip and press your thighs together, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe.

“are you turned on, princess?” he asks, no judgment in his voice, rather fascination from how you, his sweet girlfriend, can be so turned on by his gun as he sets it back down on the table.

“no!” you squeal, which just gives you away even more. “pants off.” rafe commands, and you know better than to go against him. you stand up off the couch for a millisecond to shove your pants down to your ankles then sit back down, keeping your thighs locked closed together.

“that is not what i meant, and you know it.” rafe commands, placing his hands on your waist and twisting you so you’re facing him. “if you’re not going to be good, i’m just going to have to do this myself.” he guides you backwards so you’re laying your head against the arm of the couch. he takes one ankle and slides it off the edge of the cushion while moving the other one to rest against the back of the couch, spreading you open wide.

“are you still going to deny being turned on?” he asks, eyes on your underwear sticking to your pussy, wet patch clearly visible.

you smartly decide to stay quiet, and rafe gives a little hum of approval at your choice to no longer continue to deny, knowing the amounts of pleasure he can bring you as he pushes his thumb over where he knows your clit is, not wasting any time as he rubs it over the material.

you let out a moan, back arching off the couch as he touches you. all tiredness you previously felt from suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is going.

rafe smiles down at you, seeing his girl so easily and quickly thrown into pleasure just with one of his fingers. he moves faster, watching the wet patch grow even bigger. he drags his thumb down, pressing against the spot until his thumb presses slightly into your hole, the fabric of your underwear still acting as a barrier.

“n-no, let me take them off, please.” you beg, but it doesn’t dissuade from doing exactly what you expected, gripping your underwear with both hands and literally tearing them straight down the center like the material was tissue paper. 

you grumble something about liking that pair, and rafe calms you by pressing a kiss to your knee that’s hooked over the side of the couch. “i’ll buy you another pair.”

he kisses down your thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until he reaches your cunt, taking a deep inhale of your scent before sticking his tongue out, lapping at your slickness as he gathers it all onto his tongue.

you try your best to keep your hips still, thighs already burning slightly from being spread so wide. you moan rafes name as his tongue slides up away from your hole and over your clit, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive bud before pulling back far too early.

you watch as rafe picks the gun up off the table, making your eyes go wide.

“my sweet princess, turned on by my gun.” he turns it over in his hand, and you don’t fail to notice that he’s left several parts on the table, probably whatever interior mechanism that makes it actually fire so his toying with it remains safe.

“who would have known that the innocent good girl i first starting dating would turn into such a slut?” he grabs the silencer off the table, slotting it onto the end of the gun. your eyes watch in fascination at his movements.

“my own personal whore. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” rafe questions, running the tip of the silencer against your thigh, slowly dragging it closer to your center.

“you’d even let me fuck you with my gun.” his words make you gasp, coupled by the smooth metal of the silencer coming into contact with your dripping folds. it’s so cold that you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

rafe continues to move the silencer against you, partly to tease, partly to get it covered in your juices. “you’re gonna let me, right princess?”

rafe looks to you as you silently nod, worried if you open your mouth you’ll start to beg, beg for him to put the gun inside of you. rafe presses it against your hole, and your eyes widen at how big it feels, like two of his fingers are trying to enter you, but you’re slick enough that when you take a breath to relax, he’s able to push in, breaking the ring of your hole.

“fuck!” you whine, rafe not giving you any time to get used to the sensation as he continues pushing it inside of you, until the entire silencer is buried in your pussy, the barrel of the gun far too large to fit inside.

“just breathe.” rafe mumbles softly, wanting to continue but not wanting to hurt you. you follow his instructions, sliding your eyes closed as you get used to the foreign object.

when rafe can tell your body has calmed down, he pulls the gun out slightly, watching the way your wetness sticks to the metal before pushing it back inside of your body.

you lift your hips slightly to give some reprieve to your thigh muscles, as well as give rafe a better angle as he moves quicker, starting to thrust the gun against you.

his thumb comes back to your clit, now able to touch your bare skin and the pad of his finger feels burning hot compared to the coldness spreading from within you. rafe presses his thumb against you, keeping the intensity constant instead of rubbing. 

“there you go.” rafe smirks, “my good fucking slut.” 

his praise makes you glow, especially as your high starts to build from the way the silencer is pressing inside of you. the dirtiness of the action just pushes you even farther.

“gonna-” you warn, when suddenly rafes thumb is off your clit, the silencer halting all movement, lodged deep inside of you. 

“you ask permission to cum, slut.” rafe tells you, deciding to push you even harder.

“please, let me cum.” you beg, hands fisting the material of the couch.

“no.” rafe simply says, moving the gun again. “no, because my girl isn’t going to cum for some piece of metal. you’re going to wait until i’m done having my fun and then cum on my cock, understood?” “y-yes.” you nod, flopping your head against the couch as it repeatedly presses inside of you, your clit pulsating at the need to release everything you have inside.

“please.” you sob, feeling tears slide down your cheeks, unable to hold back your impending orgasm much longer.

rafe pulls the gun out of your, making your cry out, missing the sensation instantly. “no, no, rafe please.” you beg.

“shush!” he says, delivering a slap to your inner thigh. “if you were patient at all you’d realize i’m going to fuck you now.” you sit up, blinking your eyes open in the low lighting as rafe tugs his shirt over his head. you take the moment to unbutton your pajama top as you watch him stand, unbuttoning and sliding off his jeans and underwear at the same time.

your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, unable to control yourself as you sit up, giving your legs a reprieve from the stretch as you take him into your mouth, sucking the head of rafes cock as your eyes roll back in your head, tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue.

“can’t resist, can you?” rafe laughs, knowing how much of an oral fixation you have.

you hum around his cock, bobbing your head but not taking him anywhere near fully into your mouth, enjoying playing with the head of his cock with your tongue.

you kitten lick at his tip repetitively, waiting for rafe to inevitably pull you off to fuck you. he lets you have your fun for a bit longer before tapping the back of your head. 

you pull off with a satisfied smile, laying back and resuming the same position on the couch, spreading your cunt wide to show him that you’ve gotten even wetter from sucking him off.

“my pretty slut.” rafe smiles, kneeling on the couch between your legs. he grabs a throw pillow that was discarded onto the floor at some point, shoving it under your hips to raise your cunt up to the perfect angle to fuck.

rafe rubs his cock against you before jutting his hips forward, sinking fully into you in one fluid motion. you let out a curse, boobs bouncing as he immediately starts up a rhythm.

your cunt clenches tightly around him, rafes moans coming to match your own as he moves within you, feeling your tight walls, remembering that his gun was just where his cock currently is. 

he picks the gun up off the table, still gleaming with your slick. he sticks his tongue out, licking up the side. “you taste so good.” he moans, keeping his free hand on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts.

“want to taste yourself?” he asks, but doesn’t even give you a moment to respond before pressing the silencer against your tongue, mouth already open from moaning.

you wrap your lips around the metal, indeed tasting yourself on it. you suck at the gun, keeping your eyes on rafe as you do.

rafe moans, feeling his cock swell inside of you. he would keep fucking you all night, but he can’t hold himself back any longer as he moves faster, plunging as deep inside of you as he possibly can.

“fuck, please let me cum!” you cry out, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, your fingers not feeling as good as rafes, but doing the job.

“wait for me.” is all rafe can gasp out, watching you immediately take the gun back into your mouth after asking.

rafe lasts a few more hard thrusts before he’s releasing inside of you, and you follow quickly, rubbing yourself to completion as you feel your cunt flooding with cum.

rafe continues to gently thrust throughout your orgasms, both coming down together as he sets the gun back on the table. he collapses forward, his naked body pressing against your bare one.

“god, you really are the most perfect slut.” rafe mumbles, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, knowing his cum is going to leak all over the decorative pillow you’re sat on, liking the idea of ruining another piece of furniture from his insatiable need for you.

“love you.” you whisper, tilting your head to the side to give his hair a kiss.

rafe leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss, saying the words for him.

“why don’t you go upstairs and wait for me, sweetheart?” he asks, sitting up and giving you a hand to help you sit as well, your body burning as the exhaustion sets back in. “i’ll be up in a minute, i have to clean my gun again because someone got it all dirty.”

[pjisskullourful]

·.★·.·´¯ 🅱🅰🅲🅺🆂🆃🅰🅶🅴 🅳🅾🅾🆁🆂 ´¯·.·★.·

🚪Damiano × reader

18+ readers only! 🔥 very explicit feral schenanigans, shamelessly dirty& degrading

° Damiano David/female reader insert

° Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. -- watching the audience lust after your boyfriend puts you in a proactive mood

wordcount::: 3,185

° anon request: Y/n giving him a blow job after a show and he's all sweaty and panting and he's making the best sounds and is just loving it- thankyou for sharing your ideas with me 💋 requests are soo open! but commissions get priority, secure your spot in my priority list here!

° lyrics stolen from michael jackson

.·.★·.·´¯·.·★.

.★·.·´¯·.·★.·

she waits at backstage doors for those who have prestige

This wasn't the first time you had watched a Måneskin concert, in the six months that you had been dating Damiano you had seen a bunch of their live shows.

But you were still surprised by how the crowd responded to him. He could keep them so consistently excited, they were captivated by every move, screaming with complete abandon. From your spot backstage, you could see some signs being held up, and most of them were explicit in nature. Then the bras went flying at him, launched through the air to land at his feet, unprompted. How much had those bras cost?

It was a strange notion to think that yours wasn't the only bra he would touch tonight. This intimate act was offered so freely to him and by a large number of people (you imagined there were more pieces of lingerie that hadn't been thrown hard enough to make it to the stage). They were willing to part with their possessions for a shot at intimacy with him.

Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. Your fingers curled into your palms until you could feel the nails pressing on the skin as you wondered what they were doing to him in their fantasies.

You had the rest of the gig to move away from this jealousy. Eventually you could keep your eyes off of the crowd, instead watching for the fun little subtleties in his performance. You kept reminding yourself that you were the only one who got to have him. But simply thinking it didn't feel good enough after a while, you needed to act.

You were upon him as soon as he got off stage, coming into this private area, covered in so much sweat that his bare torso glistened. Usually you greeted him with a bottle of water, but that wasn't going to cut it tonight. You threw your arms around him, feeling like you had been waiting days to kiss him. He didn't resist, his arms moving around you as he kissed you back. He didn't prioritise catching his breath, just letting you enjoy his mouth. The activity of so many people backstage carried on without any input from either of you.

“It was a good show?” He asked, stealing more kisses in the quick pauses between words. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded, dragging your fingers over his scalp. “Uh-huh. But the real fun is just starting.”

He had gotten his breath back, but his cheeks were still filled with a bright blush. “What are you talking about?”

You grinned, sparing only quick glances to either side to make sure no one was close enough to hear. You moved in, speaking into his ear. “I wanna blow you.”

He was looking around to see how much privacy you currently had, a nervous smile on his face. He put his hands over yours, gently guiding them away from his head. “We should be able to leave for the hotel soon.” He kissed the palm of your hand. “Real soon.” He kissed the other. “There's no plans for the rest of the night ‘cause we have to be up so early for recording and…”

“I don't think you understand.” You said with a little extra firmness of tone. “I want it right now. I've been thinking of little spots that we could sneak off to. 'Cause I'm not gonna be able to think clearly until your cum is in my throat.”

His eyes grew very wide and for a moment he was just frozen, seeming like he didn't know how to process this. He looked all around the two of you again.

“Baby…”

“Oh, are you shy now?” You asked with a teasing smile, interlacing your fingers with his.

“No, not shy. You’ve really caught me by surprise, that’s all.” He said.

“Do you want to hear about the private spots I’ve found, or do you want to wait until we’re back at the hotel?” You asked.

He relaxed enough to show you a smile. “Let's go hide, my little fucktoy.”

A strong heat coursed through your veins at hearing that and you grabbed him to give him more kisses. But you didn't let yourself become distracted by this indulgence. You pulled away before too long and started off, away from this main hub of activity.

You held his hand as you led the way. He kept up with you, only occasionally slowing so that he could speak to someone as you were passing, quickly telling them that he would be back in five minutes. No one questioned him for more details, so you didn't have to give any attention to them, they were just part of the scenery.

You took him down a hallway, past the door to his individual dressing room. You left the carpeted floor, no longer hearing the conversations of others, in addition to seeing no other members of the Måneskin entourage. You walked down a small flight of stairs, turning left instead of going through a double fire exit door. You sought out the shadows beneath the stairs, going into this grimy area.

You turned to face him as you backed up to the rough concrete wall. He allowed you to pull him in, but he wore an unsure expression.

“I’ve definitely seen more romantic places.” He said.

“I didn’t say it was gonna be romantic, I said it was private.” You said.

He still didn’t appear impressed, checking around over his shoulder. “Are you sure? If someone goes looking for me ‘cause they think I’m having a smoke, they’re going to check out that door.”

“We can go back to your dressing room. But that’s the first place anyone is gonna look for you.” You said. “If they see that door is shut, they’ll assume you’re getting changed or something, they’ll wait, which gives us more time.”

“Getting blown in a dressing room is kinda basic.” He said, smiling again.

You used both of your hands on his arm, tugging like it was a length of rope. “So basic and my daddy isn’t basic.”

The look on his face told you that no further convincing was required. You had made use of his private nickname at the right time and now he was on board, coming even closer to you in this unremarkable space.

You put your hand to his cheek, which was still a little moist with sweat. As you kissed him, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gripping his body to you. His hands went to your back as you eased your tongue into his mouth. You worked the front of your body against his, working towards your goal of getting him to forget about the existence of everyone but you.

He was starting to show you how receptive he was, leaning into you more. But you broke off the kiss, rather than letting him settle into a rhythm. His hands gripped your back harder, clearly wanting to pull you in. Instead you lowered yourself down and his eyes got a little wider as he watched you progress to the ground.

Your dress didn’t protect your knees, but you didn’t care to consider how long it had been since this section of the floor had been cleaned. He side-stepped further under the stairs, barely any light touching him as he put his back to the wall. You turned to face him, kneeling directly in front of his feet.

His hands began to play with your hair as you reached for the waistband of his pants. There was a quiver in your thighs, you were so excited to get to just concentrate on your desires (they kept multiplying).

You saw the way he was smiling before you lowered your eyes to what was directly in front of your face. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt. As you started to undo this you leaned in, your mouth open. You dragged your tongue along his happy trail, collecting some of the sweat that remained amongst the hairs. This gave you a taste different to what you could draw from his mouth - saltier, more primal. You heard him let out a sigh as he curled some of your hair around his fingers.

You got the belt and pants open, pulling them down about an inch. You took his underwear down a little, pulling the waistband away from his body so you could reach inside. His fingers tensed around your hair as you secured his length in your hand, freeing it from the confines of his clothes.

He was already stiffening, maybe his mind was racing just as much as yours. You licked your lips as you kept your fingers loosely wrapped around his cock. You slowly stroked up-and-down, just feeling how warm he was getting as more blood flowed to this area.

You took your hand down towards his base, using this to hold the shaft steady. Then you opened your mouth, extending your tongue. This time you applied it to his head, feeling even more heat. His desires were becoming clearer as he slightly pulled on your hair, holding the strands taut now, a long way from causing any pain yet.

Your tastebuds were graced by this intimate flavour as you worked your tongue up-and-down his tip. You progressed to spreading your saliva all over the crown of his dick, twirling your tongue all around the bulb.

As you teased this concentrated area, you applied your unoccupied hand to his balls. You held them firmly, your fingers conforming to their shape.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, taking this sensitive part into your mouth. Rather than sucking, you continued to play your tongue against the head. This was coordinated to how you began to caress his balls.

“I’ve been trying to listen out for footsteps or whatever.” He told you, his voice containing none of the power that he had used to command the entire audience from his stage. “But you’re making it hard to care if someone’s coming or not.” He chuckled breathlessly. “Amongst the other things you’re making hard, baby…”

He had grown to the state of being fully erect, the firmness was impossible for you to not notice. You slipped your tongue under him and parted your lips a little wider. Then you moved and took more of him into your mouth, his shaft so hot as it almost filled your mouth.

You set your lips into a firm ring around him and started to work yourself back-and-forth. You established a rhythm, not rushing or trying to guide him into your throat yet. Even though he was moaning quietly, you knew he could get more worked up for you.

You gradually eased yourself back, until his dick slipped out of your mouth with a little pop sound. You hovered your mouth just above his cock and made a new sound as you spat onto him. He gasped and flinched, you loved how it felt to surprise him.

You used your hand to spread this new moisture across his length. You stroked him, faster than before. As you maintained this different tempo you leaned in and started to kiss his skin, exploring the area above his crotch.

He rubbed his fingers against your scalp, the other hand keeping your hair held taut. “You just have to make a mess, don't you, dirty whore?”

You kissed your way up, stopping about halfway between his crotch and his navel. At this spot you began to suck. You worked the skin between your teeth, not letting your tempo on his dick falter. He gasped in more ragged breaths.

As you were sucking on his skin, you were thinking about what he would be wearing on stage tomorrow night.

It was already picked: a pair of black, vinyl pants, which were very low rise. This area you were ravaging would be uncovered by the pants. Every audience member tomorrow night would be seeing your hickey. And he was too dazzled by your stroking to tell you to stop marking him.

“You really missed Daddy this much?” He asked. “I wasn’t even gone that long, but it’s turned you feral.”

You didn’t disagree with his perception, instead keeping your mouth occupied by creating a second hickey. You moved lower, and a little to the left this time. Closer to his cock, you sucked harder, feeling like you were getting away with something.

At the same time you were starting to give his balls brief squeezes, repeatedly tightening your hold then relaxing. You also showed him more intensity by going faster on his length. Occasionally you passed your fingers over his tip.

When you started to feel extra moisture and heat on his tip, you detached your mouth from his skin. Tasting his precum felt more important than making a really dark hickey.

You held your hand still on his cock, feeling it twitch in anticipation. You rubbed the flat of your tongue slowly across his tip, thoroughly collecting what was beading up here. You wrapped your lips around the head and he tried to stabilize himself by reaching a hand back for the wall.

“That’s good.” He quietly whined as you sucked on the tip.

Your hand on his dick went back into motion, stroking up-and-down his length while you kept your lips secured around the tip. He rocked back on his heels, now needing the complete support of the wall.

“Please don’t stop, please toy.” He said amongst other strangled noises.

The hand on your head gripped tighter, his fingers pressing firmly against your skin. You lifted your eyes, taking in the sight of him with his head tossed back. He was desperate now - all worked up and all yours. You savoured this view of him that only existed for you, because you had helped to create it.

Pride and lust combined inside of you, joining to create something more powerful. It was a cocktail that went straight to your head, inspiring you to stroke him faster.

“Fuck, you were right, you were so right, this couldn’t wait until we got back to the hotel.” He said. “I’ll never doubt you again.”

You relaxed your jaw and powered him into your mouth, delivering him quickly to the opening of your throat. You had been moving too fast for him to keep up with. Once he realised what had happened he made a surprised sound, not unlike a squeak.

“Oh my God, that’s good, that’s so, so good. Daddy’s girl knows exactly how to treat that cock.” He said, the compliments only adding to your current high.

You began to work your lips back-and-forth, sacrificing full lungs in the pursuit of hearing more private and needy sounds from him. You didn’t struggle to find a rhythm, establishing a motion you knew would keep him reduced down to just his primal desires. You clenched your thighs together, his passion so prevalent that it was affecting you, too.

Occasionally, you would end a pump by plunging him into your throat. You could give him brief but sharp increases in intensity. Each time this was greeted by him stringing together some curse words as you felt his dick pulse in your throat.

“Goddamn.” He groaned. “You’re going to be the… uh, ah- end of me.”

You knew that you were making a complete mess of your face. Your lipstick would be smeared beyond recognition, probably on your chin, thanks to his balls repeatedly making contact with it. The sporadic way your eyes started to water would be ruining the concealer placed under your eyes. Then there was the sweat and the adrenaline-fuelled blush.

So you had to make sure this was worth it. You bobbed your head at your fastest pace yet, your slicked lips keeping every movement smooth.

He desperately rasped. “You said you needed my cum in your throat and… yuh-you are gonna get it.” He snatched up a handful each of your hair. “Oh God, you’re gonna… I’m guh-... this load is going straight down your fuckin’ throat.”

Your heart was hammering, so high in your chest, as if his anticipation was contagious. You were thoroughly invested in getting to that moment where he fell apart for you.

Your scalp stung when he began to pull on your hair. He tugged the strands, controlling you to take him back to that deep point again-and-again. But the hints of pain didn’t distract or bother you. In fact, it only added to the keen heat between your thighs.

You guessed that now was the time to try for the big finish. You hollowed your cheeks around his length, sucking determinedly. You plunged his head into your throat at the same time. As his hands pulled on your hair, you kept yourself like this, uninterested in easing off.

“Oh, you little slut, you fucking slut, you… oh g-God.” He babbled and you could feel his legs were shaking.

Your lungs were burning for air. The pressure in your throat was treading up to the territory of being too much to take. Your throat involuntarily spasmed, but you didn’t quit sucking, even when tears beaded in the corners of your eyes.

All too soon another spasm was happening. Feeling your throat clamp around him made you want to cough.

But before any action was required from you, he reached the orgasmic peak. You relaxed your cheeks when you felt the prize of his thick cum sliding into your throat. You eased yourself back ever-so-slightly as he continued to hold your hair taut.

“Oh my God, oh God, oh God.” He was moaning as his body stilled.

You opened your eyes, studying his reactions as you swallowed everything his cock shot out. Immense relief was flooding into you as you drew in deep breaths through your nostrils. Watching the tension snap for him gave you a sense of release - surely miniscule compared to what he was experiencing. Nevertheless, there was satisfaction for you to enjoy.

“Wow, baby. You brought out my feral side.” He said as you gradually eased his cock out of your mouth. “I guess I needed that more than I realised. You have a power over me like that.”

You were smiling as you used both hands to collect the moisture around your mouth. “And I didn’t have to try to make it romantic.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t get caught.” He said, hurrying to pull his pants up and conceal his dick again.

“Yep, the whole thing went down without a hitch.” You said.

He offered you a hand and you started to stand up. Once you were high enough, he made an attempt at smoothing your hair. “Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Uh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. “And you better still have more of that feral energy, because it’s my fuckin’ turn when we get back to the hotel.”

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[the-fab-fox]

Could you possibly do a Drabble with Idia x Reader with the cute pocky game you had going on?

@ Anonymous,

Thank you for the request. Literally no one has been requesting any so I was super excited to get yours. And it's Idia which tickles me. Lol.

I hope you enjoy and sorry about the wait. A lot of stuff came up. (I have gotten a lot more requests since the initial drafting of this. Also, I'll be making a collection of these on AO3 so if you'd like me to gift the fic to you, please drop your AO3 in the notes.)

Original Post

Without further ado—

Idia x f!Reader

[ One-Shot under the cut. ]

Idia was legit not surprised with how the game the Ramshackle Prefect introduced to them all had spread like wildfire throughout the campus.

They were teenagers, after all. Meat suits with raging hormones and maybe a couple handfuls of brain cells shared between the whole of the student body. And several of those brain cells were held in vice-like grips by specific singular students, making the overall pool of available brain cells even smaller for the rest of them.

The Ignihyde Housewarden was just glad that no one with half a brain would ever consider inviting him to play.

As if I'd want to? A game designed for normies who just want an excuse to suck face? No thanks! I'm good. He rolled his eyes. Tch, it's so cringe it hurts.

At least, that's what he continued to tell himself. If he didn't really buy his own words... well, that was his business and no one else's.

The problem wasn't the game itself, he supposed… if he really stopped to think about it. But he didn't want to think about it.

Ugh. Hope some new cringe fad comes out ASAP! This really triggers my rage.

He sighed as he watched his game load bar slowly inch toward completion. Because, of freaking course, the server would be hella saturated today of all days.

Groaning, he CTRL + ALT + DEL’ed out of the game rather than wait for it to load before exiting out.

This thing’s got me not even wanting to play my games. FML! This is the WORST!

He got up and jerkily opened his deskside food cabinet. Pulling out a random noodle cup, he slammed it onto his desk. Luckily, it wasn't hard enough to crush it. Much.

It was still functional, in any case, so whatever.

Smoothing out the cup as well as he could, he opened it and added some hot water from his electric kettle. Setting the lid over it once more, he idly played with the little ingredient packet as he grabbed a spoon from the little plastic drawer set on his desk.

Why can't these idiots think about anything, but making out and shit?

In reality, Idia knew why.

He was one of the idiots, after all. Not that he was going to admit that to anyone. In fact, he tried his very best to ignore it completely.

Admitting that he wanted to make out with someone would mean he'd have to think about the very person he wanted to make out with.

That person?

The one who had set this whole mess into motion.

“Meh,” he muttered, glancing at the little digital numbers at the bottom left hand side of his desktop screen. Meh, meh, meh.

After a few more minutes, Idia couldn't wait any longer. He pulled the top off the noodle cup and tossed it aside, giving it no mind to where it drifted. Ripping open the packet, he poured the ingredients in and used the spoon to stir them. Some of the broth spilled with how aggressively he stirred, which only further fueled his ire.

Damn it. Damn it all to Tartarus.

He began to eat, ignoring the slight crunch to the noodles as well as he could. He had just finished up his impromptu meal, downing both a small energy drink as well as half a bottle of water, when a sound rose in the air that he hadn't expected.

Knocking.

Glaring at his door, he was about to yell at whoever was on the other side to just leave him alone to his misery when he realized that there were only two people who would knock on his door.

The other Ignihyde students would never. If they needed to get ahold of him for any reason, they knew well they would need to contact him via technological means. Ortho-chan would just come right in. None of his peers outside the dorm would come to see him. He had no friends after all. Not really.

Well… maybe…

No. Especially not her. Like yeah, okay. She was like really sweet, and nice, and actually seemed interested in what he had to say when he went full fanboy and otaku mode, but that was just her being nice. Nothing more.

And yet, she was one of the two people who would be on the other side of that door.

The other was Crowley, but considering the fact that he was Crowley, the man would more likely just summon him to his office rather than pay a visit to his dorm.

Which meant it could only be the Ramshackle Prefect.

As if proving him right, another knock came upon the door, followed by the annoyingly cute sound of his crush’s voice.

“Idia? I know you're in there. Can I come in?”

What kind of event did I trigger? Idia sighed heavily. He hated this.

Somewhere along the line, Idia had come to realize that when it came to the otherworlder, he had a very hard—if not impossible—time denying her anything.

He brought his hands up to his face, letting out as quiet and muffled a groan as possible before pulling his hands away once more. Taking a shaky breath, he stood and crossed the space between his desk and the door.

The third year wondered if he should just ignore her. After all, if he didn't answer, she would have to leave at some point right?

“Idia Shroud!”

“Eep!”

“I'm not leaving until you let me in, mister!”

Idia tried and failed not to smile.

He could just picture her. Standing on the other side of the door, hands on her hips, glaring cutely at the door like some romance anime heroine.

For the love of STYX, why was she so freaking cute?

And why was she so determined to see him?

It made no sense.

Except that she likes and cares about you, another voice said. His mind, and the rest of him, silenced the thought as quickly as it came.

His face became a grimace and he decided that now was the time to get this visit over with, so that he could get back to his raging pity party.

Whatever she wanted couldn't take that long, right?

Just rip the bandaid and be done with it.

Spite forced his hand in the end. He unlocked and pulled the door open, his face still a deep scathing frown. The moment his eyes met those deep, warm brown eyes—however—he felt his demeanor and posture go shy.

“Ah, h-hey…” he said by way of greeting, with the smallest smile on his face. Then he remembered he was supposed to be annoyed, and tried to force the grimace once more. He wasn't sure if he managed, but the moment he took in the rest of her, he had to keep himself from laughing.

If he had to hazard a guess, he imagined he looked a lot more like the nauseous emoji rather than a scathing one.

The reason for his sudden urge to laugh was that the Ramshackle Prefect was, no cap, standing with a wide, determined stance with her closed fists on her hips as she looked up at him.

That made him feel off-kilter for a moment. He kept forgetting how short she was compared to him. She could still no doubt kick his ass TKO style, because who couldn't, if he was honest—but she was just so… fun sized and cute.

He longed to hug and cuddle her. He wanted to hold hands with her. Wanted to whisper soft couple things into her hair as he embraced her from behind. He wanted to keep her safe, since she didn't have any magic of her own. And to support her in whatever she wanted to do because, damn, this was a young lady who was going places. He wanted to beg her not to leave if a way was ever found, because who would he talk to then? (Other than Muscle Red, of course. But even then, this was different.)

“There! That's better isn't it? We can definitely talk better this way.”

Idia felt himself start to nod and smile along with her, before shaking his head and frowning.

“What do you want?”

Her brows rose and slowly she began to frown. Then her brows knit together and her stance became even more stern than before.

“You won't talk to me like that, Idia! No, sir. We're friends, remember? Besides, I brought you a gift. Doncha wanna know what it is?”

Idia felt his conviction slip.

A gift? For him? Had he really triggered some kind of event?

He frowned.

If it had been anyone else, he would have thought it was a trap. The problem was, it wasn't anybody else.

It was the girl of his dreams.

“Why?” He heard himself ask. He frowned, but he wasn't sure if it was at the situation itself or himself. “Why would you get me a gift?”

The Prefect sighed, now crossing her arms. Idia called himself several kinds of idiot.

That stance is never a good one in anime and manga.

Now he'd likely ruined everything, and she was going to leave, and he'd be in an even worse funk than before.

“I already told you, Idia. We're friends. Sometimes friends give each other gifts. And I care about you. Gift giving is a great way to support the people you care about.” She then grinned. “Or just chock it up to the fact that I wanna. Okay? Now—” She fell silent and only continued when Idia looked up, into her unfairly gentle and pretty eyes. “Can I please come in?”

Idia said nothing. He just scoffed under his breath and moved aside, ignoring the rush of affection he felt as she quickly moved into his room. That quickly turned to dread as he suddenly realized how much of a pig sty his room truly was.

Shit, shit, shit.

She didn't seem to notice, however. In fact, she didn't even seem to look around. She just turned back to him and the moment he closed the door, she moved in closer and closer.

Was she about to go plot twist villain on him? Well, he supposed there were worse ways to go than being murdered by a ridiculously beautiful girl in a school girl uniform.

“W-What are you—”

She stopped in front of him and rummaged in her book bag before pulling out a rectangular, shiny yellow box. He frowned.

He was a little ashamed to admit it, but he already knew what it was from the sight glimpse.

A box of Pocky.

A box of banana-flavored Pocky.

His favorite.

“What are you—”

She said nothing, only smirking as she opened the box, then the unopened package inside. Pulling one out, she held it up as she held his gaze.

“I'm guessing you've heard about the game?” She asked, though it wasn't really a question. She knew he knew it well. “Wanna play it with me, Idia?”

There was something new there. A sort of hint of something. A variation.

He would never vocalize his guess, but if he wasn't mistaken, it sounded a lot like flirting.

“M-me?”

She groaned and threw up both hands, the Pocky rising with the one that held it.

“You're not as dumb as you like to think, Idia—about people, I mean.”

She held his gaze firmly. He just continued to stare dumbly at the shorter girl. Slowly, it dawned on her that he had absolutely no clue what she was talking about.

“Okaaay… so you don't get it.” She sighed. “Fine. I'll tell you. In a way that even you won't be able to find a single way to deny it.”

Idia just blinked.

“I like you, Idia. A lot. And I want to be more than friends. But you're also really skittish. I only introduced the game in the hopes that I'd be able to play it with you, and the kiss would tell you the rest.”

Idia just stared. And stared some more.

She sighed, moved in closer, and held up the Pocky.

He took it without thinking.

“If me being your girlfriend is something you are on board with, play the game with me…”

Idia didn't think he had ever put anything into his mouth as fast as he did the Pocky.

There it was, just the tip of the flavored part of the cookie stick held between his lips. It was worth it, though. The Prefect smiled so brightly, a light tinge of pink coloring her cheeks.

“So you do like me!”

He sighed. Here it came.

Time for the ridicule to commence in 3, 2, 1—

“I'm glad.”

That's what I thought you'd say, because duh—wait what?

“You're… glad? Why?” It wasn’t easy to talk with a piece of pocky being held by his lips, but through luck or maybe he had a high enough stat, he managed.

She sighed. This time, however, it sounded fond.

“If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you.” She then beamed and Idia felt himself mirroring her without his consent. “But I'll give you a hint.”

She then closed the remaining space between them, took the other end of the Pocky in her mouth, and quickly nibbled through it until she'd reached his end.

Idia was pretty sure he short circuited for a moment. He blinked rapidly until he was finally able to register what was happening.

The Ramshackle Prefect had kissed him. Was kissing him.

Their lips were still touching.

He swallowed the bit of banana Pocky in his mouth and closed his eyes tight. He'd never kissed anyone before, except his mom and his figurines and—though he would take it to his grave—a couple of his character and idol body pillows when he was feeling particularly needy.

Still, he let instinct take over and did his best to match her actions.

Pulling away, he opened his eyes to meet her gaze.

“I knew you liked me back. Thank you for finally telling me.”

Idia blushed. He felt his throat trying to work, but all that came out was something like squealing—but less cute and more strangled.

Apparently, the Ramshackle Prefect had no trouble finding it endearing, if the fond smile on her face was any indication. Then a conspiratorial grin slipped onto her face.

“So what do you think about the game from my world?”

Idia had liked it. He was pretty sure she knew it too. She just wanted to hear him say it.

Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to do that just yet. Instead, he let some of his hair fall forward to obscure his face as he brought his index fingers together, tapping them against each other a few times.

“I don't… um… not really sure.” He cleared his throat, trying to speak up, but mumbling worse instead. “Maybe we should try it again… a few times… just to get a good sample size…”

The smile that radiated off her face in that moment took Idia to a whole other realm. His room no longer felt so gloomy and depressing. It looked brighter somehow.

His attention was immediately snapped back to the short Prefect, who still stood very close. He blushed as he realized how close, before reminding himself that they'd just kissed, which had been a hell of a lot closer. That only caused him to blush more deeply as the realization sunk in.

She had kissed him.

Him!

And he had, technically, kissed back.

His face felt like it was radiating heat.

She giggled and pulled out another Pocky stick, putting the cookie tip in her mouth. She then raised her brows and grinned.

A clear invitation.

It was one of the only invitations Idia had gotten for anything (outside of gaming) that he immediately RSVP’d on.

As they kissed, Idia felt his muscles loosen and his body warm. At some point, long after the cookie was gone, petite arms wrapped around his neck as his hands awkwardly settled upon her waist. He had successfully passed the surprise event and achieved the Best Ending.

Maybe I can convince her we'll need to go through the whole box, just to be absolutely sure I like the game.

He smiled into the kiss at the thought.

[spikezonebby]

hi !! saw requests for song fics are open, may I request something angsty with fem!human!reader x megatron (idw) to ‘young and beautiful’ by lana del rey ? 🥹 <3 thank you in advancee

Young and Beautiful (IDW Megatron x Fem!Human!reader)

Word count: 1,070

Eighty years. Humans lived for a measly eighty years.

You change right before Megatron’s optics. Your hair grays, your skin sags, your bones grow thinner. Like the very universe was sapping you away from him. Vector Prime alone could grant him all the time he needed to write a poem about all of the moments he lived with you.

But how could he begin to write when every time he picked up his stylus, you were that much further from him? He longed to capture the feeling of you and immortalize it in a data pad, but then you’d touch your tiny, soft servo along his gray bottom lip plate and take him away. Remind him that you were his moment. Here for a second, gone in a blink.

You flare, you flicker, you fade.

You asked him once, if he’d love you even after you weren’t so soft. You weren’t so pretty. And your mind wasn’t as intact as it once was.

Megatron’s answer was immediate.

“Even once the spark of your life extinguishes, and I won’t stop even for a klik after.”

You may have lamented the way time and age changed you, but Megatron learns to see unique beauty in it. There was something beautiful in a life lived so long that you COULD age, it was a promise of peace and resilience. You lived, you fought, you came back again and again. A force so strong that it took time itself to put you down.

Megatron thought that was romantic. Not in the way of kisses in summer or dancing in the moonlight, but the cosmic way. In the way that atoms and space dust collect together and become new stars, or how he realizes, in the grand scheme of things, so, so many tiny and nearly impossible things had to happen for you to be his.

As you grew older, you grew more rapt by his poetry. You blamed it on growing old and sentimental, he argued you were always sentimental. You had always found it fascinating, but Megatron believed that perhaps you took some comfort in it.

“Do you think, because I love you… I’ll be there in the Afterspark waiting for you?”

You were resting against his neck cables, curled up between his shoulder armor and helm vents like a tiny glitch mouse. The ardent heat of energon pulsing up the lines of his throat felt good and helped soothe some of the arthritis in your hands. He had to rest his chin on his servo, propping his helm up at an angle to keep from squishing you, but he hadn’t the spark to stop you.

It’s a question that he’d pondered many times. For he who often pondered the nature of all things grand, the question of life after death was a philosophist’s energon and mineral tablets. 

“You do not have a spark,” He points out, shifting his helm minutely to a position slightly more comfortable for you to tuck yourself under, “So I would not expect you to be held to the same rules and expectations of Primus.”

“But, your God is real.” You raise as a counterpoint, “Any proof that various human gods are real could be considered dubious at best.”

“That is a point for the high queries of gods, but what of your lack-there-of spark?”

“What is a spark but life?” You offer, gesturing with your hands and making the round shape of a spark before your breast. Megatron loathed to move you from your warm perch, so instead he tips the data pad in his servo so he can see your tiny reflection. You look comfortable, hidden securely in his collar fairings. “Perhaps I DO have a spark, but it’s simply just a different form. After all, energy cannot be destroyed. It merely changes form.”

You chuckle, knocking your knuckles against his neck cables. “Julius Robert Mayer.”

“A human philosopher?” Megatron asks, setting his datapad aside to instead settle for reaching up and touching his digit to your lap. You take the hint immediately, and hold his huge digit between your two itty bitty hands. 

“Founder of the laws of energy conservation. Suppose most of us are philosophers in some way, though.”

You have to be, with lives so short and bright. Megatron keeps that thought private to himself, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. You were feeling thinner and thinner these days. He hoped you ate well enough.

“So, what have we come to the conclusion of in this conversation?” You prompt, bringing back your point, “That there is no true way to say I do not have a spark, and that it’s ultimately far more likely that Primus and his Afterspark wait for me than say… The Christian or Hebrew concept of God.”

“For there are too many to count.”

“For there are too many to count.” You agree, “But it is the most commonly applicable and the most similar to Primus.”

“But,” Megatron clicks his glossa, a smile coming to his face. He loved it so  when he could have these in-depth conversations with you. “That is also dismissing that humanity is a much younger culture than Cybertron was. Perhaps you will find proof that these things are indeed true, or perhaps something you had not even considered. Perhaps in the afterlife, you will have a veritable plethora of ‘heavens’ to choose from.”

“Then I’d choose to wait for you.” You say, “Or I’d choose some religion where I’d be reborn and I could fall in love with you again.”

“You could live again, redo all of the things you had missed. Unmake all of your mistakes.”

“You talk as if I considered you a mistake.”

He feels your tiny, cool lips press to the pulsing line of energon that is connected directly to his spark chamber. You laugh, giddy and sounding just as young as you were when he first met you. There’s a well of emotion there in his chest and, if not for millions of years of carefully cultivated control, he might have sobbed.

Instead, he settles for curling the whole of his huge, warm servo against your body, and recording this moment for all of time. The moment he writes on his spark that you wanted to be his in any life.

“I suppose it is not a mistake then, if you do not regret it.”

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Any platonic Fresh and Nightmare?

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

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Fresh is exploring a new multiverse and makes a stop in Dreamtale. When he realizes he's shown up in the middle of the Apple Incident, he steps in to help.

Hunted by Blackened_Wing (Not Rated, Complete)

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Neutrality Mistaken As Betrayal by orphan_account (General Audiences, Complete)

"Nightmare I-" he paused, trying to figure out a way to phrase it without having the rest of them jump to conclusions. Everybody perked up, aside from Dust who was dead asleep. "Nightmare, I saw Fresh talking to Ink when I went out," he finally said after a few seconds of suspense. Unfortunately it didn’t sound any better than what it had looked like. A.K.A: Fresh isn’t on either side. Everyone is on edge.

Imaginary Friend by Blackened_Wing (Not Rated, Incomplete)

Fresh has had a bad life. He's been abandoned, and has nowhere to go or live. He's all alone. That is, until someone from his dreams unbelievably comes to life.

[dented-nado]

Anything Germany or Gerita related? Im sorry I dont have a clear idea i just am desperate for germany content lol

This may be *checks watch* …. Year(s) late, but here you go Anon… some pure Germany + Gerita get-together fluff <3

——

He’d been scolded repeatedly at this point to ‘just make a move’. The issue was he had. Everyone had implied Italy may be interested in him… romantically, and encouraged him to ‘just go for it’!

Germany was beginning to feel like he was being made fun of. The times he had attempted to show any sort of romantic interest (after arguing with himself and his own fears for far too long), had honestly ended in disaster.

There was that first time on Valentine’s Day all those years ago… that had nearly sent him crawling in a hole to never return from…

He brother had very bluntly said “Just go right up to him and go ‘oi! Italy, you're going out with me now!’ Cut the shit and just demand what you want!”

He didn't’ like the forcefulness, but he supposed knowing Italy he’d scream and run if he hated the idea, so he had done it, he’d approached Italy after work, gathered up all his courage…

”O-Oi! Italy, You’re going out with me n-now! If that’s okay…”

Italy had jumped out of his skin but had agreed quickly. “AH okay!”

Germany was riding high until he realized he was once again on a ‘date’ and had no idea how to initiate ‘romance’. Italy was more of a romantic sort than he was, and yet their interactions were as platonic as ever.

They ended the evening as friends… as they had always been.

America had suggested “Do some huge super big gesture! So obvious and romantic there’s no way it could be interpreted as anything else!”

When asking for examples he had gotten “Make a super big feast, blast his favorite music, say something like ‘I can’t live without you!’”

So he had invited Italy over, tried his best to cook Mediterranean pasta, knowing Italy liked it… only for Feliciano to end up hovering, micromanaging, and then shooing him out of the kitchen, leaving Ludwig dejected in the dining room. He knew he should have just stuck with what he knew but he’d been told ‘cook your dates’ favorite food’ was a good mood. He should have known Feliciano was too particular about how certain things were cooked, as the evening ended up being flipped with Feliciano cooking for him instead. He’d remembered the last bit of advice after the meal he had spent pitying himself and blurted out…

”I can’t live without you!!”

Feliciano had looked up, stared at him… then quietly chuckled and took his wine glass away.

He hadn’t even drank that much… he liked beer a lot more anyway…

France had given him lines to read in French along with appearing with chocolates and good wine.

He ignored that advice completely.

No… he had decided this was a worthless endeavor. If Italy felt anything for him it would have ‘happened’ already, he was better off not ruining a good friendship with his foolish and annoying feelings that had surprised even himself. He seemed completely incapable of romance, and in his darker moments he suspected he was incapable of being loved in any romantic way.

—

Japan had honestly been trying to think how to get Italy and Germany to stop… hovering… around each other. It was as obvious to him as anyone that they had some sort of romantic feelings for each other, little glances between the two, the odd content smile from Ludwig in Feliciano’s presence, the way he’d notice Italy tracing his finger around the brim of a wine glass completely enamored with whatever Ludwig was talking about…

He’d been called a third wheel before, he didn’t quite feel that way himself but he also wished his two dear friends would stop torturing themselves over each other. Through a few conversations it was clear Ludwig had been trying to figure out how to ‘make a move’. He didn’t consider himself very romantic nor very intrested in it when it came to his own life… but to be honest, the advice he had overheard given to Ludwig was awful. Germany was just… himself, and expecting their own romantic successes to immediatly apply to him was a little insane. He understood where they were coming from, but still.

He had invited Ludwig out for a night out, he’d been meaning to see what the German thought of Japanese beer or sake anyway. They had lulled into a calm, just according to plan.

”Germany… your relationship with Italy…”

He noted how Germany froze mid drink, wide and sometimes terrifying blue eyes darting to him, he kept his gaze plain and non-judge mental, especially because he wasn’t judgemental at all.

“I think you shouldn’t give up just yet, I’ve heard you’ve wanted advice, but in the end, if you two are meant to join together, the only way you’ll be able to communicate your desire for a different kind of relationship is if you do it your way. No one else can tell you how to best show your care.” He said very straightforwardly.

Ludwig stared, and began fiddling with a napkin. “But I don’t… know how to…”

Japan hummed. “Mr. Germany, when you’ve noticed Italy is not ‘as sunny’, what is it you do?”

Germany blinked. “Er, well the last time that happened, I brought him some Kuchen I made and set up some blankets for him, he gets cold when he’s down…”

”You showed your affections naturally, without even thinking about it.” Japan said very firmly. “Now, you want to make it clear to Italy, that if he’s in agreement you’d like to be romantic with him. That is your goal. So you must do this with your own methods, no one else’s, otherwise the message will never come across, as it will not be your own.”

”That… Er… seems very wise. Do you have much experience??” Germany questioned, coughing a bit.

”Not personally, but think of it this way. America suggested a big romantic gesture, with the “I can’t live without you!” Line. That’s a purely Alfred move, you couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, so of course it worked for him with Ivan, because as much as Ivan claims to be irritated with Mr. America, in the end he finds the way he is endearing. For France, I’m almost certain that’s how him and Mr. England ‘make up’ every single time, and then of course your brother’s bluntness and boldness gets him far with those who like that personality trait.” He explained. “If you wind up truly rejected, it would be sad, but at least you would have true clarity because you asked your way.”

Ludwig considered Japan’s words, glancing down into his beer glass… downed the rest of it then nodded. “Thank you Japan… as always, your advice his appreciated.”

”….I would also like for you two to figure it out and be less distracted with each other during important business… We would be much more productive.”

”…Noted…”

——

This time, he had asked Italy if he could visit, and had prepared an Italian Cream Cake… in past he had lied about desserts he had provided, a bit embarrassed to admit he enjoyed baking as a hobby, but in recent years he had gotten over it at least a little bit, and he did want to take the risk and let Italy know he had specifically and meticulously made it for him, by himself.

Italy as always flung open his door to greet him. “Germaa-n-ieeee Ciao Ciao!!” He chirped, standing on his tip toes to kiss both of his cheeks to greet him. “Come in! It’s been too long since we could visit!”

Ludwig smiled slightly. “It’s been five days.”

”Too long!” Italy insisted with a grin as he pulled him inside. “Ooo! What sort of sweet have you brought this time Germany? You always bring such good ones.”

”I er…. I made this one, Italian Cream Cake, I’ve been practicing a bit.” Ludwig confessed, holding out the covered dish.

Feliciano’s eyes lit up. “You went through all that trouble! Ohhh just at a glance it looks beautiful! A work of art! Here! Let’s make it a centerpiece!”

Italy gently took the glass covered cake and set it in the middle of their dining table, Ludwig flushed but looked on proudly, he only hoped he’d achieved the taste and texture he wanted…

He joined Italy in the kitchen and helped with cleaning up as he always did as Feliciano served them up.

As particular as Italy was about food, there was no denying his instincts on flavor were masterful, he supposed Feliciano had much more time than he himself had to explore different flavors and types of food, and then France had even longer.

He paused as he took the first bite, noting Feliciano had included german sausage in his sauce rather than Italian… the meat from his home and the slow cooked carefully seasoned sauce from Italy blended beautifully, he made sure to praise Italy on the choice.

They ate, then cut the cake, he was nearly bombarded by compliments from Italy, and pleas to “please share more of your baking with me!!!” He felt light, cheerful, happy. It was domestic, almost, he was scared to ruin it. But even so…

He cleared his throat. “Italy, I wanted to… tell you something, and find out your opinion on it, so I hope you’ll take what I’m about to say very seriously…”

Italy sat up straight in his chair. “Of course Captain! I’m all ears!” He said with a salute and a bright grin.

Ludwig couldn’t help a soft smile before he folded his hands together and cleared his throat to be ‘serious’.

”You’ve been a very good friend to me for a very long time, we’ve had moments where we’ve been at odds with our understanding of each other, where I’ve pushed you too hard, when I’ve resisted your attempts to have me ‘relax’, but in the end your the only person I’ve ever been able to call a dear friend.”

Feliciano looked him up and down, eyes shining as he beamed. “Awwww Germany!! Your my dearest friend too!!”

Ludwig nodded firmly. “But that’s not all… It’s… taken me a very long time. I’ve felt… ashamed, honestly, of the way I’ve felt, our culture and bosses haven’t been exactly friendly to the sorts of things I’ve felt… to the way I am, so its been difficult for me to get to the point of true honestly.”

”Germany….” Italy began, almost standing from his chair, but Ludwig put a hand up, asking for Italy to hear him out.

”I know you’ve dealt with much of the same. But now… I must be honest, because… It kills me to be deceptive, especially with you. I’ve… …. I…..” Ludwig swallowed hard. No, he had to just say it, he could almost hear others laughing at him for being so serious, but this was serious. Italy meant a lot to him, so he’d treat it as such.

He inhaled sharply and began again. “I feel for you as more than a friend… I care for you, find myself wanting to do sappy romantic things with you even if I mess them up.” Ludwig avoided Italy’s gaze as he confessed, wringing his hands together in front of him. “So I have to ask you now… if you feel even remotely the same way… and if you don’t, our friendship means too much to me to ruin so if…!”

He was cut off by Italy suddenly grasping his sweaty clenched hands, and pressing his lips suddenly onto his. He was sure he didn’t look at all very attractive with his wide open and stunned eyes and stiff stunned lips… but Italy… Italy… Feliciano looked so beautiful he couldn’t look away, eyebrows furrowed, almost pained as if he’d been holding back, a close up view of his sun-kissed skin and freckles, and his closed eyes that seemed to twitch with dried tears. Finally he got himself to move and tried to give a kiss in return… before they finally parted and stared at each other.

Feliciano did tear up at that point and cupped Ludwig’s cheap. “Ludwig… my Ludwig… always so formal and direct and scared at the same time, I adore you so much! I just never thought… I thought that… maybe I was misreading things!”

Ludwig reached up, finally feeling free to do so and ran his hand along Feliciano’s face in return. “Do you know… how often I thought I was making a fool of myself trying to confess only to be rejected?”

”Huh??! Luddy! I was doing the same! I asked uncle France for help, my brother… even America!” Feliciano confessed in a panic. “I thought maybe I didn’t understand the right way to show you I liked you!”

Ludwig couldn’t help it, he started laughing, deep and bubbly. “I did the exact same thing, right down to a similar line of people!”

Feliciano joined in with laughing, and they wound up kissing in between giggles at the rediculousness of thier situation, before finally, they touched foreheads, and Italy’s deep honey gaze met ice blue.

Ludwig pulled Feliciano close to him, more content than he had ever been, having just laughed more than he had in his life.

”In the end… I’m glad we did it our way.”

Feliciano kissed the corner of his mouth in agreement. “I wouldn’t have understood any other way.”

[themeraldee]

Hi! First I need to say you literally have THE BEST fic of Homelander x Reader ever (The Lucky Winner) and omfg you deserve literally every single praise in life for that one, thank you so much for fulfill my mind with content of Homelander!

And I’m here to make an interesting request (know you are picky about requests and do as your wish, I’m glad just for you to read it honestly).

It’s about some Homelander x Idol! Reader. When they meet in a interview for the first time in a TV show and Homelander think Reader is just too bubbly and naive, a truly sunshine person and of course Reader start to getting more attention in the interview. He got a bit jealous and after it start following their social media (maybe even stalking a bit) to see if they are truly all people give her credits for. little detail: Reader is keep being called of “America’s Sweet Idol” and Homelander “America’s Sweetheart”.

BAWLING MY EYES OUT, I LOVE YOUUUUU

Honestly this means the world to me. I was terribly worried about posting it, thinking that my writing was just not good enough to be posted but the feedback I got for it was so unexpected and heart-warming that I still go back to in anytime I don't feel good enough. So honestly massive thank you to you and everyone else who's given me any sort of feedback on my stories!!!

Sorry this is not actually a filled request, by oh myyyyy I love this!!!

And the part of the Boys I particularly enjoyed was just how commercialized superheroes are. Like you have these incredibly super-abled people and you're putting their faces on a box of cereal... And I love how soulless that is! The corporate/commercialized superhero America was always much more interesting to me than the political part that came later.

SO I adore prompts that delve into the social media part of their lives. And how much they really are just media trained puppets that rattle off their lines and curate the perfect image on social media. As much as Homelander loves the attention from people it's also annoying that they're clapping for the Vought approved & perfect image (obvs until we find later when he realizes that they don't care what he does).

So it'd be interesting to me to see him look down on the reader while finding out their life is difficult in the same way? The perfectly manicured and maintained image in front of cameras - just like him! Either bcs he's pissed that they're genuinely as nice and perfect as they seem while he has to keep up the façade or just determined to find out what's wrong with them. What are they hiding behind this persona??

Idk I just love how complicated perceptions of people get when there are cameras involved.

Homelander would wrangle someone from crime analytics to dig up everything they can on the reader, really trying to come up with some dirt that will make them so not the America's Sweet Idol.

I'd loooooove from them be shipped by all the fans so OF COURSE Vought has to spin up a whole fake relationship for the public. Very soon it'd be fake from only reader's perspective once Homelander would settle his claws into the reader and they'd realize what they actually got themselves into.

[deliriousgrl-writes]

Felix Catton teaching/talking a virgin female reader through a blowjob. Lots of praise, pet names, etc.

i think abt this regularly so here it goes. a long one. :)

good student// felix catton x virgin!reader

warnings: oral-m receiving, lots of praise, mentions of male anatomy, mentions of virginity, innocent!reader, fem reader, mentions of female anatomy, felix cumming in your mouth and calling you a good girl

felix knew you were a virgin pretty early on and it only turned him on more. he was used to the experienced english girls he’d had fun with, the ones who knew how to fuck. the ones who knew how to perform for a guy and had no problem being dragged into felix’s dorm room after a party and would happily moan his name and run their hands over his lean muscular body without hesitation.

you, on the other hand, were nervous. felix couldn’t help but feel nervous too. despite your inexperience being a major turn on for him, he’d never had to teach or help a virgin through sexual situations.

you found yourself in his bed again, out of breath, your pants already off, your body warm and buzzing as his hands ran over your sides. his lips were attached to yours, his taste of nicotine and whatever strawberry sweet he’d had before sending your senses into overdrive.

felix had already touched you, and the experience was gentle but so incredibly erotic to him. seeing you experience touch, his touch, for the first time, was something that he couldn’t get his mind off of. he wanted to do it again and again, watch you come undone on his fingers and know that he was the only one who’d ever made you feel that way. the only one to hear your sweet noises and know what you looked like when your chest rose and fell rapidly as your thighs shook. it was magic before his eyes, your innocence in his hands as he lovingly took it away.

and now, you felt more comfortable giving into your desire for him. you were still hesitant. but when felix’s tall form was hovering above you, his hardness against your leg, it sparked something else inside of you. youd already fantasized about what it would feel like, what it would be like for felix to take your virginity and experience him inside you. but, to your surprise, felix was more than happy to take it slow. it was the first time in his life that he didn’t chase after sex. he wanted to savor all your firsts, make you as comfortable as possible and let him show you everything there was about touch and desire.

his large hands caressed every part of your body that he could, his tongue exploring your mouth as you whimpered into his. your mind was wandering, his hardness making your panties dampen and your body crave his. you gently pushed his broad shoulders and he pulled back from your lips, his brows furrowed as his brown eyes searched your pretty face for a reason as to why you wanted to suddenly stop.

you swallowed, your hesitance but desire to make him feel as good as he had made you feel recently taking hold as you couldn’t stop thinking about how his desire poked through his faded blue jeans into your leg.

“what is it? y’alright?” his deep voice questioned you quietly. he was worried that you were feeling overwhelmed or something. worried that maybe you didn’t want him right now as much as he craved you.

“i… i can feel you,” you whispered back, your cheeks heating up. felix’s brown eyes widened for a moment before he shifted his body off of you some, worried that it made you uncomfortable. “no,” you added quickly, licking your lips as you let out a breath, “i-it’s okay.”

felix’s gaze was back on you as you said it, a small smirk on his lips. he could see the way your eyes darkened slightly, your kiss swollen lips parted as you took small breaths in and out. “are you.. curious about something, darling?” he asked you quietly, biting his lip for a second, “y’eyes are kind of… asking me somethin’.”

your cheeks were bright red now but you ignored your nervousness, answering him back and telling him the truth. because you trusted him. because you adored him enough to be honest about your desire now, even if your voice shook a little as you spoke. “can i m-make you feel good? can i…see you?”

felix’s heart raced a little more at your shaky request. he was surprised, surprised that you felt the need to return the favor of pleasure that he’d started giving you. “y’know you don’t have to do anything for me,” his deep english voice assured you, “i don’t expect ya to. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, love.”

you nodded quickly, your stomach swirling with need as he pressed a soft peck to your lips. you had to stand strong, just be honest that you were practically craving to see the way his lean muscular body looked. you’d seen him shirtless before, his soft tan skin and toned body enough to make your mouth water. but you wanted more. for the first time in your life, you wanted to see all of him.

you decided to be brave, pulling his face down to yours and pressing your lips to his hungrily. felix happily reciprocated, his whole body on fire as you took the lead for a moment. he was glad that he’d help you build your confidence now, that you felt safe with him enough to reach for him when you wanted to taste his lips. what he didn’t expect, was your hands hesitantly pulling at the button of his jeans. you were still kissing him, almost like you wanted to distract him from your trembling fingers trying to unbutton his pants. he pulled away from you for a moment, a grin on his face as you panted and looked up at him with wide, needy eyes. “eager are we?” he mused, his deep voice a little bit breathy as he felt himself get harder at the fact that you wanted his pants off. “let me,” he insisted, moving his tall form off you as he scooted over to the edge of the bed. he pulled his t-shirt off first, his dark shaggy hair a little messier than usual before he reach down with his long slender fingers and undid his button and the zipper of his jeans. he turned to look at you now, seeing you still laying there as you kept your bottom lip between your teeth, watching his every movement with wide eyes. he scooted closer to your lying body, his hand reaching for your stomach as he spoke, his voice low. “where d’you want me, love?”

his question made your stomach flutter, your core aching a bit more than before. he could sense your nervousness but you seemed eager for this next step. eager to see him fully as he kicked off his pants and was left in his boxer shorts. he crawled in beside you on the bed, his eyes on you as he head turned to see your eyes moving up and down his tall body. “like this? this okay?” he questioned you teasingly, unable to wipe his gap toothed grin from his face. his hard cock was pressed against his boxers, poking up and exposing the wet spot that showed in the cotton fabric, his tip leaking in anticipation for whatever you wanted to really do. when you didn’t answer him, your nervous virginal nature taking hold of your words, he leaned his face over towards you, his brown eyes full of tenderness as he tried to make you feel safe enough to ask for what you want. “just tell me what y’want, love. tell me cause’ i’m okay with whatever. i want to give you what you want. whatever y’comfortable with,” felix cooed, watching your needy eyes look into his brown orbs.

“to t-touch you,” you whispered, making his ears perk up and his stomach twist with pure lust. he nodded, pursing his lips for a second before he spoke.

“then do it.”

apparently, he didn’t need to ask you twice. you sat up, your breathing heavy as you went to the bottom of his bed, your eyes silently asking for permission to rest your form over his long legs. he gave you a slight nod and your thighs were on either side of his knees, straddling him in only your t-shirt and panties. he could feel the wetness the thin fabric held, how soaked your heat was against the skin of his legs. it almost made him groan. felix saw your eyes focused on his boxers, your small hands reaching out just above the waistband. he saw you blink, your fingertips against his hot skin making him eager for more. you gently pulled them down a bit, his hard cock popping free, on full display. he saw your eyes widen a bit from his generous length and of course, he felt a great ego boost from your reaction. because after all, felix knew how well endowed he was in that department.

your eyes met his for a moment, asking him for permission as you lifted one of your hands up, hovering over his length. “y’can touch me, baby. see how much i want ya?” he assured you, reaching one of his large hands up and wrapping it around himself. your face flushed from the sight, watching his thumb rub over his glistening tip before he moved his hand up and down his length slowly. you felt the muscles in his legs tighten for a moment and felix almost forgot that this was the first time you’d ever seen a man pleasure himself. your eyes flickered between his darkened brown eyes and his large hand running over himself, pumping up and down slowly. it made your guts churn and your heart speed up, and you hesitantly pushed your smaller hand over his own. he continued to move up and down, his lips parting a bit as he throbbed in his own hand because you wrapped your hand over his. “fuck,” he breathed out, watching you innocently hold your hand over his knuckles and fingers, learning how he jerked himself off. it was driving him crazy, the head of his cock leaking drops of precum over both of your fingers.

“felix,” he heard you say, making him stop his movements as his eyes flickered to your own, “i-i want to make you feel good. like r-really feel good.” felix’s broad, toned chest was rising and falling quickly from the pleasure he’d just experienced, and he decided to question your eagerness. “well, what d’you want, love? i can show you anything,” he asked you, his deep english voice low as he panted, “ya just have to tell me. be honest with me.”

“blow job,” you blurted out, making felix widen his brown eyes in disbelief. he unwrapped his hand from around himself, taking a breath as he sat up on his elbows against the mattress. “h-head?” he asked in surprise, feeling his heart race at the thought, “y’want to give me head? love… you don’t have to.” he couldn’t believe that you really wanted him in your mouth, he hadn’t even tasted your pussy yet, though he was excited when he finally could. he’d been planning how to make it the perfect experience for you, but now here you were, wanting to use your mouth on his hard cock with a needy look in your eyes. he saw you nod, clearly trying to be brave in telling him what you what you wanted. and felix would be damned if he didn’t give his precious girl what she wanted. he didn’t chuckle, he didn’t smirk, he just looked at you sat across his legs, feeling himself get a bit excited at the fact that you wanted to really do this.

“if ya really want to,” he said quietly, his cock only leaking more, “tell me that y’sure and i’ll help you along.”

“please, lex,” you answered quietly, using your little nickname for him with your eyes wide and your voice needy, “i-i want to make you feel good. i’m sure. i’m completely s-sure, please.” felix nodded quickly, his head tilting a little as he bit back a groan from the fact you were practically begging to have his big cock in your mouth.

“okay, darling. um, you can touch me first,” he said quietly, still propped on his elbows as he felt eager to see you touch him and listen to his further instructions. you did as he said, and he finally felt your hand around his length. he bit his lip for a second, trying to refrain from cursing as he felt your small hand and fingers grip his cock. “fuck, okay, um, lay your body over my legs if ya want, to make it easier,” he directed you, the head of his cock dripping with need. you laid your body across his long legs, your head face to face with his throbbing length and felix swore he saw you lick your lips like you were hungry for him.

he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his stomach twisting as his body lusted to feel your lips around him for the first time. he opened his eyes and peered down at you, nodding his head and reminding himself to take it slow with you and help you through it. “run y’tongue over me, just up the side,” he instructed softly. he chest tightened as he saw you part your lips and stick your tongue out, his body shuddering as you stuck your warm sticky tongue out and licked a quick stripe up his length. “fuck, just like that, love,” he praised, seeing a shy smile grace your lips before you did it again. felix knew you loved praise, and he had no problem giving you all the praise he could. it was easy to, you were so responsive and eager to learn. and now, he was going to praise you through however long you wanted to take his hard cock into your mouth, however long you wanted to taste him and make him feel so fucking good. you kept licking him, up and down, slowly. and he leaned his head back against his pillows for a moment, his breathing heavy as he enjoyed every second your tongue touched him.

“s’fucking good, baby.” “christ-keep doing that. exactly like that.”

what a good fucking student you were, even closing your eyes as if you were enjoying running your tongue over his long, thick cock, and hearing his breathy praises. felix wondered if he could cum just like that, having your tongue on him for the first time driving him absolutely mental, like he’d never felt before. he flickered his eyes open, not even realizing that they were closed as his cock throbbed. you were looking up at him again, eager to learn more about how to pleasure his cock. “fucking angel, y’are,” he praised, leaning up on one of his hands and using his other hand to run over your hair. he looked down at his leaking cock, his precum running over the hand you had wrapped around him. “that’s how much i fucking adore you,” he praised, teaching you that all that clear leaking desire from his tip was because of you. his breathing hitched when you quickly ran your tongue over the dripping head of his cock, a sharp breath escaping him as you tasted it. “m’sensitive love,” he breathed out, “please wrap your lips around me. christ, i want to feel that pretty little mouth on me.”

you eagerly took him in your mouth, and felix let out a sharp breath, your mouth wet and warm. you held yourself there, him in your mouth as you waited for his next instruction. “fuck, love. n-now just suck on me gently,” you did had he said, making him swing his head back in pleasure as he groaned, “just like that, y’doing so good. making m’feel so fucking good. go up and down, angel. move your mouth up and down my cock.”

you sucked on his large length slowly, bobbing your head up and down as your wide, innocent eyes looked up at him. felix’s breathing was ragged. he’d had many girls in your exact position, on their knees or on top of his body, sucking his cock with a desperate fervor, but something about it being you, made it feel different. made it even better. so much fucking better. “fuck me, you’re so fucking good for me. s’fucking good,” he praised you with a breathy voice, a deep groan leaving his chest and making you clench your pussy on nothing. you continued sucking him, his cock in your mouth and his muscles tensing. “use you tongue, love. swirl your sweet fucking tongue over me,” he instructed, or begged. you kept sucking and eagerly swirled your tongue on the underside of his cock, near the head. felix bit his lip at that, his face contorted in pleasure as he tried to stop the noises that threatened to escape him. he was surprised at how good you were at it, and the fact that it was your first time having a mans cock in your mouth made his dick throb more. that it was his cock in your mouth. felix felt euphoric, the muscles in his abdomen squeezing and tensing up as you continued, his toes curling as his long legs tensed beneath your body from the pleasure you were causing him. he couldn’t take it, his lips parting as he let all the sounds escape him. deep groans and heavy pants making him feel desperate as your tongue continued to swirl around him as you sucked.

his brows furrowed with pleasure as he watched you, biting his lip as he watched your eyes flick up to him and you released his throbbing cock from your warm mouth. “a-am i doing it right?” your soft, quiet voice asked him. felix melted. “more than fucking right, love. y’so fucking good! christ, this is like the best god damn head i’ve ever had!” he praised you with a grin, his chest still rising and falling as he breathed deeply. you gave him a sheepish smile before you suddenly stuck his cock in your mouth again and sucked. “f-fuck, baby,” felix groaned, his brown eyes almost black as he watched you take him in your mouth.

you continued to suck and swirl your tongue over him. your small hand was still wrapped around the base of his cock, and felix kept himself propped on his elbows as he gave you another tip. “love,” he groaned, pants leaving his lips, “move y’hand up and down while you suck me. christ- y’doing so good.”

you did as he asked, pumping the bottom of his length and part of his shaft up and down while you multitasked, swirling your tongue all around him as you sucked. felix let out a deep, rumbling groan, feeling himself start to lose control. “such a good girl,” he groaned, his eyes shutting as he body tensed and his head fell back against his pillows, “such a good fucking girl f’me. keep going- fuck- keep going, love. yes, baby, there y’go.”

you moaned on his cock from his praising, the vibration making felix’s toned body shudder. you found yourself going faster, swirling around his cock with your tongue like crazy, drool falling down your chin and the lewd sounds of you sucking down on him filling the quiet space of his messy dorm room. felix was close, so fucking close as you continued, combining all the things he’d taught you along the way and being the best fucking student he could ask for. what a quick learner you were.

felix’s toes curled, his broad chest moving up and down as he let out groans and loud breaths, loving every moment of this. “fuuuuuck,” he groaned, his deep voice low as he leaned himself up to watch you again. “y’doing so good, angel. gun-gunna make me fucking cum like this-fuck! my good fucking girl.”

you continued your quick movements, feeling felix’s legs tense and shake a little as he breathed deeply. he groaned, his deep voice sounding more whiny than he’d ever heard himself sound before. it was all becoming too much, your tongue starting to swirl around the sensitive tip of us cock a little and your hand pumping the rest of his length up and down. felix couldn’t help himself, leaning up on one hand, moving his other one down to your head and gently resting it there, desperate groans leaving his lips. you swirled your tongue around him one last time, and felix collapsed against the bed, groaning louder than he ever had before as he came in your warm mouth. “fuuuuck me, fuck!” he groaned, his body shuddering as he came down your throat. he felt your small hands grip his thighs, your eyes watering as you felt his hot release hit your throat. as he finally finished, he leaned himself up on his elbows again, seeing your face as you swallowed and wiped your sticky mouth on the back of your hand. felix’s brown eyes blinked down at you, trying to steady his rapid breathing as he felt his body enter complete relaxation, feeling more fulfilled than he’d ever had.

when he didn’t say anything, his eyes still locked on your face, you couldn’t help but smile up at him shyly, your heart racing as you spoke, “can i try that again?”

felix’s brown orbs widened, reaching up with one hand to run his fingers through his dark messy hair, still out of breath. oh, what a good student you were.

[mammalsofaction]

Hi I wanted to ask you about a fanfic idea? You don’t have to answer this but I have a couple ideas and I’ve been to busy to really put it to use.

You know in the movie into the 2nd dimension where Perry’s able to hold up 2 kids, 1 teen, and a fully grown evil scientist. I thought of the idea of what would happen if his host family saw that or if he got a bit to rough with Dr d during a fight.

You might have already had this idea or have even already done it but i thought it would be a fun short fic or something.

Early Days

Rating: G

Relationships: Bg Lawrence Fletcher/Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Characters: Linda Flynn-Fletcher, Lawrence Fletcher, Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz mentioned, Flynn Fletcher siblings mentioned

Add tags: Non graphic depiction of violence, non graphic depiction of injuries, family feels, light angst, PnF S1 Hail Doofania, human Perry the Platypus, mute Perry the Platypus

A/N: This takes place in the early days of Perry and Heinz's nemesis ship. In the episode Hail Doofania in S1, Perry spends almost the entire episode wearing a protective collar. His flashback shows us that Heinz pushed him down a sandpaper making factory that tore up the fur on his body, making Linda suspect he's scratching himself up due to some sort of rash.

In the human!Perry version, I take this further to mean that he's wearing some sort of neck brace, meaning that Heinz had--at some point early in their relationship--had hurt him quite bad. I thought it's fitting to fulfil the ask. Perry still calls Heinz 'Doofenshmirtz'.

This fic mainly centres around Perry's relationship with Linda and Lawrence, and how they worry for him. The boys are maybe 5 years old here, making Candace 10.

If you want to understand the reference to Ferb's mom, i recommend reading my human Perry lore post linked in my pinned post.

Im sorry this took so long @salty-frenchfry . Between life happening and my laptop going Ka-put, finding the time to properly address this ask took longer than I'd like. I never forgot it though! I hope this little short is ok 😭

---

In his line of work, injuries were unavoidable.

Often times, they were easy enough to hide. Bruises were most common. Perry's long since taken to keeping a spare set of make-up with a replenishable bottle of concealer on his person, whether that be the dash of his hovercar or the storage box beneath the seat of his scooter. And what the concealer couldn't hide, his sleeves and long trouser pants could.

He's good enough at what he does. That being said, sometimes Doofenshmirtz gets a lucky shot.

Linda stormed into his private ward like an avenging angel, and Lawrence trails behind her in a more sedate, nevertheless eager pace. The nurse, as well as a be-suited nameless OWCA insurance representative slips out silently to leave him to their harried concerns, though not before the former sends him a small smile for good luck. The married couple barely notices.

"What happened?" Linda demands. Lawrence makes himself at home in the bedside chair, letting his wife take charge of the mother henning for now. "The hospital told us you'd gotten involved in a car accident? Oh Perry, your handsome face." She cried, bottom lip wobbling, and if Perry didn't have his left hand in a cast and his body completely leaden with drugs, he would have reached out to reassure her. As it was, he could only attempt to do what he can with a strained smile.

He hadn't known, until this point, what excuse OWCA had given the Flynn Fletchers to obfuscate the circumstances surrounding the severity of his injuries, but he really should have guessed. OWCA loved car accidents. In truth, he'd lost his balance over the edge of a rooftop while fighting with Doofenshmirtz, and he'd somehow managed to push Perry over. Perry had fallen through a roof of a sandpaper making factory, down 20 feet onto some crates and toppling heavy machinery. He'd almost broken his neck, fractured his left wrist, dislocated his left knee joint (the side that had broken his fall) and his face looks like he'd gone 5 rounds with Mohammad Ali. Thankfully he'd found he'd managed to thwart Doofenshmirtz's scheme anyway (he'd thrown a shoe into the revealed gearwork of his Unpaved-Inator, a machine designed to revert paved walk lanes into unstable cobbled paths. As if Danville didn't suffer from enough sabotage in terms of accessible walkable infrastructure), so at the very least, it was not a complete failure. The paperwork would've been impossible, instead of just insufferable.

He'd been given a voice to text machine by his bedside by his functional hand, a small voice box in respect to his disability, and he uses it to lie in it's emotionless vaguely feminine robotic voice. "T-boned into a truck running a red light." He says. OWCA would take this lie and run with it later. "Thrown onto the road. Think it slipped."

Linda and Lawrence made appropriately sympathetic noises. When Perry lolled his head to the side, he realizes his brother-in-law looks far more haggard than he'd initially noticed; red rimmed eyes and a glassy smile. Stiff upper lip. Well. Ferb had gotten it from someone. "You'd scared the children out of their wits, Perry." He says quietly, likely to conceal the shaking in his voice. "They're waiting in the car as we speak. None of us had quite the appetite for dinner after we'd gotten the news."

The strained smile slips into a slightly more sincere, more painful smirk. "Just the kids?" Perry asked, and Lawrence barks in laughter that sounds far too similar to a sob.

He can't imagine what he sees, what it must've been for him to have gotten the news. OWCA had told him it was a car accident too, for Ferb's mother nearly 5 years ago to the dot, now.

He'd not even got to see the body, then.

His heart squeezes in guilt, an all too familiar ache. Lawrence had been through enough: the point of a stable nemesis ship was to avoid injuries of such a caliber. To provide stability, safety. Security. Perry didn't want Linda, didn't want the kids, to ever worry about whether he would come home, especially not with the line of work he tells them he's involved in.

A gentle knock on the door heralds a familiar face: a specialist Perry had seen once or twice walking down the corridors of OWCA's medical bay as an emergency field medic, sans the white fedora with a red band denoting his position within the organisation.

This time he was simply wearing a signature Doctor's lab coat, holding a clipboard and flanked by a pocky young adult in scrubs, buzzing with caffeine. "Flynn-Fletchers?" He requested gently. Linda makes an affirmative noise, and the duo welcomes themselves inside the ward with that familiar professional smile.

"He's got banged up pretty bad out there." The doctor offers in a vague, sympathetic manner. "Has he told you what happened?"

Perry thinks he sees Lawrence and Linda share an unreadable look. "A car accident." Lawrence echoes hesitantly. "With a truck?"

The unnamed doctor nods, writing something down on his clipboard, likely the cover story he would need to report back to Francis shortly. "The impact had broken his collar bones and given him a mild concussion." He reports. The pocky nurse at hands out a print of Perry's X-ray reports, and Perry watches the married couple analyse the given print like it was anything comprehensible. "He'd landed on his left side, fracturing his left wrist, up to the back of his ulna, so we're casting it for now. No surgery beyond the one we've done to his collarbones immediately upon his arrival to the AnE, which has already been covered by his work insurance."

This seems to surprise Linda. " As an accountant?"

The doctor doesn't even blink. "Seems like it. Good health insurance plan. We're assigning him to a couple more days in the hospital to watch over his condition, and about 2 months bedrest before he can go back to work. If everything goes smoothly, we can discharge him by the end of the week. Any questions?"

"Paid vacation?"

It's a question asked through the robotic monotone of Perry's given voicebox. The doctor gives Perry a secretive, sympathetic smile for the unspoken concerns he understands far too well. "I'm afraid you will have to ask your superiors. My influence remain within these walls, I'm afraid. But I'll put in a good word."

Perry sighs. It comes out weaselly and creaky, and Lawrence reaches forward to squeeze his uninjured shoulder in reassurance. "Thanks, doc." Perry says, because he wasn't an animal.

"My pleasure." He says, which must've been some sort of cue. The pocky nurse moves to exit, leaving them with the X-Ray prints, and holding the door open. "I'll let you get your rest, and you may refer to Consultation for any questions regarding visitation hours. We'll be able to greenlight him tomorrow."

Linda and Lawrence thank him, watching him leave before they redirect their attention back to Perry's prone form.

Linda has her lips pursed in displeasure. "Your boss doesn't really want you back so soon after your accident, would they?"

Perry sighs again. This time, the exhales brings his attention to his parched throat. "I can't say." He types into the voicebox. It's not the answer she was looking for, he can tell from the continued sour look of her face. Lawrence face becomes even more pained.

"Can you promise you won't be doing this again?" He requests, and while his throat and his guilt tears him from the inside out, Perry lets himself chuckle lightly.

"I can't help these things, Lawrence."

The silence that follows is heavy with things Perry feels they're both keeping from each other. Linda sits heavily in the chair next to her husband, and reaches out to squeeze his hand, hanging limply by the armrest. Lawrence looks him in the eye, pointedly silent, and he smiles something wane and unreadable.

"No," he says. "No, I don't suppose you can."

[shehungthemoon]

This close to blocking the buddie tag I can't believe y'all bitter jerks turned me against my favorite ship like this