#now stop making him shave his damn chest PLEASE I BEG YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urdadsnewgiirlfriend · 9 months ago

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I knew this would be good, but not THAT damn good! 😭😭😭

You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

can I have them both please? 🥺👉👈

Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends.

Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

uh-huh you can look but don't touch 😌😌😌

Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe. You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

WHAT THE FUCKKK 😩😭

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in.

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.”

god i hate him… him and… his stupid handsome face 🙄🙄🙄

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate. “Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out. “You really broke my heart, you know that?” Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit. “Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

WHATS WRONG WITH YOU STEVE 😭😭😭 WHAT IF I CRY 😭

I’m done…

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” That was a lie, he begged him.

Interesting 🤭

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover. “You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.” He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. “Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

very interesting 🤭🤭🤭

It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

showing off his chest again 🙄🙄🙄 SLUT!!!

🧎‍♀️now i’m counting the days until next Wednesday.

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!”

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.

“Does she know that?”

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!”

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

#sh fic recs

1K notes · View notes

luvsicksubs · 4 years ago

Text

mercy - levi ackerman

cw: sub!levi, femdom!reader, dacryphilia, spitting, unprotected sex, edging + overstimulation (m. recieving), oral (m. recieving), degradation, a little bit of aftercare, riding, restraints, levi calls you miss

wc: 2.7k

a/n: im literally in love with him goodbye everyone.

Retribution is normally in your bedroom.

A habitual creature at heart and core leaves him stumbling to your quarters in the middle of the night. It’s late - when the rest of his soldiers have fallen into a deep sleep and the entire hallway echoes when he steps. A single flickering candle rests in his palm but he could make it to your bedroom with his eyes closed.

A heavy sigh falls from his lips as he makes it to your door. His heart is hammering in his chest, hand trembling as he closes his palm into a fist and knocks. Always three times, precisely before he waits, taking a sharp inhale to ease the nerves he attempts to push aside. His eyes flutter when he hears you undo the heavy lock on your chamber doors, pushing it open with a faux surprise when you see Levi.

His skin is warm. He’s sure it’s unlikely that his expression is a proper match for how he feels, eyebrows stitched together fitfully. Still, you don’t falter. You greet him with an exceptionally warm smile, eyes full of mirth. He knows you’re not surprised, but you make a game of playing pretend. Levi is half-way between a scowl when he looks at you, never mind his pounding heart.

“Oh? Captain - what are you doing here so late?,” you ask, bemused. Levi considers temporarily turning on his heel and leaving. His frown deepens but it doesn’t seem to discourage your antics and Levi figures that you’ve never really been deterred by him anyways.

You smile wistfully, challenging - damn, you’re going to make him say it aren’t you? Levi misses you too urgently to come up with anything half-way solid and sarcastic. Even his pride, normally stubborn, proves to be wholly worthless today.It’s always that way with you.

“To see you,” he replies, scrunching his brow together. You take the candle from his hand, noting the way the wax drips down the sides as you place it on the wooden desk in your study. With the lights dim down like this it makes it hard to see, but your hands are familiar. The brush against the shaved sides of Levis hair as you cradle his face in your palm.

“To see me? Aren’t I awful lucky?,” you quip. Your thumb smooths along his cheek bone, and even in the darkness of the hallway - Levi can see light in your eyes. You make everything feel easy and in turn make Levi frustrated. He couldn’t explain it himself. Rather, he places a soft hand on your wrist and closes the gap between you. He can taste your amusement on your lips, the small noise of surprise when he kisses you. Something akin to need flares up in his chest.

He’s just as surprise as you are when he pulls away, inevitably. Your smile is stretched so wide your cheeks sting as Levi sighs.

“Would you let me in already?,”

You grin, stepping aside and letting Levi into your bedroom before locking the door. For all the things Levi is capable of, subtlety isn’t one. He sits on the corner of your bed with his arms folded in his lap - eyes heavy on your figure. You smile at him.

“Something you want, Captain?,” you hum. Levi says something in his head, a furious blush creeping down his neck as he watches you approach him. Like a cat, or a viper - more like. He spreads his legs for you place your knee between them. You curl your knuckle and drag it along his sharp jawbone, stopping underneath his chin before tilting his expression up towards you. Levi breathes a sigh of relief.

Levi has never understood religion at its core. The only religion Levi Ackerman has ever understood had been full to the brim with corruption.

Yet, when Levi is at your waist with his eyes held high, you are something of a deity. A religious altar. There is relief in your all-knowing stature, endless wisdom of all Levis sins. Levi has nothing to hide from you, your gentle prying eyes and loving gaze. Between your legs is an appropriate place of worship. He stares at you, brow hardened until your thumb brushes his lips and he opens his mouth. You smile when he takes you in, tongue soft against the pad of your thumb - there’s something like approval swimming in the sharpness of your expression.

For Levi, your touch is indeed dominion. An unworthy worshiper who’s to please the lord that reigns above him, protects him from whatever evil, and loves him wholly. If that is what God is meant to be, then Levi can understand it.

Dominion. Divinity. God. You. These things are all the same to Levi. Truth awaits him in your quarters, with your dress pants tugged past your thighs and your leg hiked over the bed. The first step to retribution is honesty, Levi figures.

The words are still hard to get out, but you’re patient. Your thumb presses down on the tip of his tongue, eye brows quirked. Amused.

“Well? What is it, boy? Is there something you’d like to do?,”

Your knee presses against the stiff outline in his pants. A choked gasp leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he nods.

“Yes,”

“What would that be?,”

Levi chokes as he feels your knee lift up, grind against the cloth. The contact is so barely there but his body is attuned to your touch. He’s half-hard, gritting his teeth. His forehead falls to your mid-section, brows furrowed as he gasps.

“I need you,” Levi croaks. His voice is trembling, the brush of your knee against his half-hard cock making it hard to speak. You tilt your head to one side, going hard. You push Levi softly onto his back, hands on either side of his head as your thigh presses against his cock. Levi lets out a sharp gasp - squirming under your curious gaze.

“Need me to do what, Captain Levi? Answer me,”

“Shit, need you to touch me, Miss,”

You grin, your expression lit up with pride. You lean down, nose brushing against Levi’s with a smirk. His hands come up to the front of your nightshirt, fisting the fabric. You kiss the furrow of his brow

“Is that so, Captain? Where exactly do you need me to touch you?,”

Levi whines, throat hoarse as he feel your hands graze over his chest underneath his white shirt, unbuttoning each one slowly. Your mouth singes his skin, open mouth kisses littering his neck. Levi doesn’t even get angry when the hickies you bite into his neck are above the collar - though he’s sure his cadets won’t let it go when he blushes because of them

Right now, all Levi can feel is your hands, pinching and twisting his nipples. You brush them with your thumb, till your tongue laps at the hardened buds. You feel Levi take in a sharp inhale, your hands resting on his rib cage

“Where do you need me to touch you, Captain Levi? Tell me,”

“My,” A furious rush of scarlet litters Levis neck, chest and cheeks. Levi isn’t very good at being vulgar with you but your expectation weighs heavy. He shuts his eyes, gasping as your hand slowly travels lower.

“Need you to touch my, ngh - touch my cock, Miss,” he breathes, barely getting the last bit out, “Please,”

“Need me? Is that why you came waltzing to my bedroom in the middle of the night Cap? Did you come here just for me wreck you like a cheap slut, Captain Levi?,”

A soft gasp tears it’s way from Levi’s throat. Humiliation flood his gut, sends butterflies leaping into his throat. Levi nods, peers into your heavy es as the travel down his body with the reminder that here, he’ll always be second place to you. Excitement rushes through him, trying to find the words to say - but it gets caught in chest somewhere.

Levis response is cut short by your hands, fingers looping into the waist band of his pants and swiftly pulling everything down, all past his thighs. His cock bobs, heavy with pre-cum against his stomach. The tip is bright red, almost purple and Levi feels like he might cum just from seeing your face next to it. He gasps, sitting up and leaning on his hands to watch you with heavy eyes.

“Beg for it. Captain,” you hum, lazily pumping his cock in your hands “Beg me to make you feel good,”

“Fuck, please,”

“Look at me,”

Levi watches from heavy lids. Your mouth kisses up his thighs, teeth digging into the flesh with your hands finding purpose in holding him down. You’re slow, patient. A small kiss gets placed on the tip, the wind getting completely knocked out of his lungs. Down his shaft, your tongue slides over the vein as you take him fully into your mouth. Sinking down inch by inch, Levi groans as he twitches inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

You play Levi’s body like an instrument - by now it’s what Levi expects. Still, caught off guard at the way you swallow him down your throat before stopping just as an orgasm starts. It leaves his cock aching, impending orgasm making it feel like he’s ready to explode. He needs it, and he’s going crazy with the way you’re holding it over his head. Bobbing your throat and swallowing, making him feel so damn good, but stopping right before he can release. Frustration bubbling in his gut, Levi chokes out a heavy sob. His hands still at his sides - obedient.

“M-miss, can’t can’t, fuck - please let me cum, please - shit, I can’t do it,” Levi sounds good when he begs, begs you. He would never be caught begging anyone for anything but he’s pleading through the haze of an orgasm and the carefulness of your touch. Your eyes quirk when his cock is in your mouth, smiling at the tears that slide down soft cheeks and angular jaw.

“You wanna cum? Couldn’t even make me cum, could you?” You pause, getting up. You carefully undo the belt from his pants that had previously been pushed off before facing him level again.

“Why would you, mindless little fucktoy like you can’t think about getting off and following order - isn’t that right Captain,” you muse.

“The chain of command here means you’ll always be below me, Captain - that’s where you belong,” you say, barely hiding the sarcasm in your voice. Levi feels dizzy. Nodding deliriously, he lifts his hands up. The warm leather wraps around his wrist not once, but twice as you fasten it together. Tied arms fall back onto the bed, and Levi groans as he watches you get undressed. Your panties make a slick sound as you shimmy them off.

Levi’s mouth waters, smoothing his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches you. Your thighs make it around either side of his. You slide your dripping cunt right against the length of his cock, letting it rest against your navel. He can feel the swell of your clit pulsate, how warm and tight you must be. He’s restrained by the weight of your hips but he bucks them up anyways.

You lean forward, cupping your jaw in your hands. Squishing his face together, you raise a brow.

“Open,”

His eyes widen as you spit into his mouth - cock twitching against your stomach as you do. Groaning - the sound of your laugh making his chest ache. Levi barely has time to watch you. His eyes rolling into back of his neck, thrashing as he feels your cunt wrap around him.

“Fuck, fuck - it feels so good. W-wanna cum,” Levi admits. You raise a brow. Levi can barely contain himself, the pleasure curling inside of him. It’s all so humiliating, how much he loves it and how much he loves you. You’re ruining him and he loves it. His hypersensitive cock is aching inside of you. So tight - like silk. Everything is blurry.

“You can cum, baby - but I’m not stopping till I’m satisfied,”

Your grin is wicked and Levi watches wide eyes as you lift your hips all the way up before slamming them back down again with no warning and no mercy. Levi groans loudly, your hands swiftly on his chest as you bounce yourself on his cock without any mercy. His throat flutters, the need to orgasm growing impossibly worse as you fuck him at this agonizing pace. The sound of dripping cunt riding him fills the room with lewd noises, pleasure thrumming in Levis ribs.

Your tits are bouncing as you fuck him so roughly - so fast and so hard that each breath feels sharp. Wet pussy dripping all down his cock, down past his thighs with disregard for Levi’s helpless warnings about just how close he is. It feels so good he’s seeing white behind his eyelids, spine arching off the bed as he breaches his first, painful and broken orgasm.

Levi can’t get the words out when he finishes, unable to do anything but choke out a loud moan of pleasure, body twitching. Despite the fact he’s just cum you hold up to your promise, not even pausing. A satisfied grin makes Levi look at with pleading eyes, brows furrowing in overstimulation. The way his body is seizing is makes his voice cease. Everything comes out in a silent scream or pitchy moan. Pleasure that’s ruining him, tears of frustration running down his face as his cock remains painfully hard and hypersensitive.

“Holy shit, shit - wait, fuck,”

“So selfish captain, telling me stop when you haven’t even made me cum yet,” you say with a heavy pant “Needy fucking cumslut, not even telling me stop are you? Want me to keep going even though it hurts, right? Filthy,”

Levi shuts his eyes hard. His lungs feel like they’ve collapsed. The smell of sex and your nails scratching down his chest make his nerves stand on end. Everything is hazy - not a single thought in his head belongs to him as pleasure and pain mix and make his skin burn up. The dull throb of pleasure has him hiccuping with an uncontrollable sob. The sound of his broken voice is like music to your ears, your own orgasm impending. You lean back, letting your fingers toy with your clit.

Levi watches you through lidded, tear-stained eyes. Another weak spurt of cum shoots inside of you, thin and messy. His nails have dug tightly into the palms of his hands, gritting his teeth as he feels you.

“So fucking vulgar, Captain - this is what you came here for, right? Just here to do what I tell you and take it like an indecent brat,”

“G-goddamn it, shit,”

“Cumming twice in one night - you love how much it hurts right? Our Captain Levi is a painslut ‘n a masochist, isn’t he?,”

Levi’s heavy lids blink up at you, your face twisted up in pleasure as you ride his softening cock. Your fingers dance across your clit expertly, slamming down till you’re fully seated as you get yourself off using his body. He looks at you needily, not much left of his voice.

“Please, please use me, make yourself - haah, fuck, make yourself cum,”

You collapse forward, shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You let out a silent scream as you connect your mouth with Levis, moaning into his mouth as you ride the high of your orgasm.

When you pull away, Levi is still caught in the throes of subspace. You pepper kisses along his forehead and cheeks, cupping his face as he grows soft.

“So, Captain, how was that? You feel okay?,”

Levi frowns at you, wrapping his tied arms around your neck. He buries his face in your shoulder, groaning tiredly.

“It was good. Now untie me,” he demands, though you’re almost positive it’s because he wants to cuddle. You chuckle, kissing the crown of his forehead.

You lean back, undoing the ties on Levis arms and holding his wrists. He sits up, burying his face in your chest with his tired arms loosely around your waist. Your fingers scratch his scalp warmly, cooing praises about him being your good boy off-handedly before tapering off in idle conversation. That’s how Levi likes aftercare most, the vibrations of your voice as he cheeks are pressed against your tits.

Levi is hugging you but he’s at your mercy all the same. Aching body, covered in hickies and bruises and nail-marks - he’s at your mercy.

That’s what worship means to him.

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #sub!levi #sub!aot #k; degradation #k; dacryphilia #k; spitting #k; overstim #k; edging #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years ago

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Fic: A Close Shave 1/1

Summary: Syverson has been looking like a woolly beast lately and You have it all planned out - a sexy shave astride his lap. But damn it, nothing goes according to plan. And thank goodness for that!

Pairing: Captain ‘Sy’ Syverson x YOU (and your glorious self)

Rating/Warnings: Cock-warming, vanilla and bourbon, attempting to conquer the beast, sex, fluff, silliness, and well... at least you tried :D

Notes: By now you all know how much I like writing fun, sexy times. This is no different.

Please consider reblogging, and commenting if you enjoyed it as much as I did. Reblogs and comments are life :)

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Are you ready?’

You waited a moment and from the other side of the master bathroom door, you heard the squeak from the shower taps as he turned them off.

‘C’mon,’ he called and excited, you opened the door.

It was delightfully hot in that blue-green tiled room and the moist air smelt pleasantly of vanilla and bourbon. It was from that distinctive scented soap you’d bought for him, on a whim, years ago, and although you had been unsure if it was even to his taste, to your surprise, he became an ardent fan.

You pushed a low, square, cushion-topped bench against the wall in front of the sink, and quickly kicked shut the door. Grabbing a fresh towel from the wicker storage basket, you folded and neatly lay it atop the cushion to protect it from getting wet.

Then, across the wide sink lip, you unfurled the leather roll-up bag containing his beard grooming kit, which was a neat collection of shiny silver tools. Next to the tools you set a stiff brush, a wooden narrow toothed comb and a bottle of beard conditioning oil. Sy watched you and continued to briskly towel dry before loosely wrapping and knotting the towel about his trim waist.

Pleased with the presentation, you patted the soft seat.

‘Park it,’ you said.

Unsure of your barbering skills, Sy apprehensively rubbed a big hand over his out-of-control facial hair. Sure, it had grown out more than normal, and while he loved you, he didn’t want to be butchered by an eager, yet inexperienced hand.

Nevertheless, he grinned, and pointedly looked you over.

‘I’ve never been to a barber who wore my t-shirt…’

He paused, then leaned in and lifted the hem of the oversized shirt. He grunted as if he’d been expecting that you wore nothing but his t-shirt.

‘… panties,’ he observed with some disappointment.

You laughed, delighted and slapped his hand away.

‘Behave and sit down!’

He chewed his lower lip and chuckled in that low, husky way that always sent a thrill through you. Sy swaggered in close, crowded you against the wall, and attempted to slide his hands up beneath the t-shirt. Heat radiated from his skin and the scent of vanilla and bourbon and something deliciously and uniquely his, rose into your senses.

With him that close, that intoxicating, he threatened to thwart all of your plans. You put your hands flat to his hairy chest, in an effort to rein him in, but it didn’t stop him from curving down to mouth hungrily at the bend of your shoulder exposed by the wide shirt neck.

‘Ok, ok,’ he laughed and with a huff, sat where you directed him.

You took a moment to regain your composure and eyeing him carefully for a moment, you crept your gaze up his heavily muscled thigh to where the partially open towel promised to reveal him. Drinking in your open admiration, he shifted, and rolled his hips, a clear invitation that nearly brought you to your knees to eagerly swallow that divine mouthful that he offered so willingly.

‘Take off your panties and sit on my lap,’ he said, sliding off his towel and draping it across his lap.

Without protest, you stepped out of your knickers and tossed them aside.

And with a smile, you said, ‘Well, turnabout is fair play.’

You teased your fingers along the edge of the towel and easing it off his lap, watched his thick cock bob up against his upper thigh. You let out a long breath. He was a thing of beauty and he looked down at himself and then back up at you, with pride and desire shining in his blue eyes.

Sy reached out with both hands and pulled you forward and astride his lap. He was so hot between your legs that you were nearly robbed of coherent thought.

‘Let me,’ you whispered hoarsely and rising to your knees you took him in hand and guided him inside you.

Time went still and the sound of his quick breath mirrored yours. He moaned and gripped your bottom as you eased down the length of him until you could take in no more.

The muscle in his jaw bunched as he clamped down on a groan and you pushed him back against the steam warmed wall behind him. You fought through the need to ride him and squeezed your eyes shut.

‘Fuck, baby… you’re gonna kill me.’

‘Hush. Don’t move. Be a good boy and don’t move.’

He shuddered and took several moments of long breathing before he was able to speak.

‘Ok,’ he said slowly, still breathless and directing his glance at the sink. ‘Fill it up with some hot water and open the lather bar tin.’

The silver tin of hard shaving soap was heavy in your hand, and it opened easily with a twist of the top. You set it aside and filled the sink basin with hot water. You picked up the shaving brush and with a smile, flicked the soft bristles against the tip of his nose. Sy pulled you close.

‘Put some water on the soap and leave the brush in the sink to soak.’

You could feel him watching you as you did what you were told and it was singularly arousing.

‘Wet both your hands and work the water into my beard.’

‘The moment of truth,’ you purred and squeezed his cock with your tight walls.

Sy sucked in a quick breath and colour bloomed across his cheeks. You greedily consumed his expression of desperation to give into his baser instincts.

‘Baby… baby please,’ he begged.

You ignored his plea and instead rubbed your wet hands together, and massaged your fingers through his bristly facial hair. You took your time with it, looking into his eyes and drinking in his increasingly contented expression as you worked your fingers against his skin.

‘Does that feel good?’

You let your fingers drift from his face to his jaw and down the back of his neck.

‘Mmmm, yeah. I- I like it.’

Closing his eyes, Sy leaned his head against the wall and eagerly kneaded your bottom.

You smiled and reached for the comb and scissors. When you moved, he tensed and the hot pulse of his cock inside you made it harder to concentrate on the task at hand.

‘Don’t make any sudden moves, or you’re going to end up with a bald patch,’ you warned him and he made a quiet noise of acceptance.

You lifted the scissors to his cheek and then drew away.

Damn. Focus, girl.

You took in a breath and lifted the scissors again. Your hands were visibly trembling and your body had started spasming involuntarily much to Sy’s obvious delight. He curved his big hands about your bottom, dragging you in and rocking up into your heat.

He was at his limit.

‘You– you’re not being fair,’ you gasped resisting the urge to bounce.

‘Was I supposed to be fair?’ he teased. ‘Now put down the scissors before one of us gets hurt.’

You tossed them into the sink, wrapped your arms about Sy’s neck, and crashed your mouth down upon his. Syverson growled and stood, lifting you effortlessly to the edge of the sink, and spreading your thighs so that he could pound hard into you. You had teased him long enough and now he was going to make you pay.

You wrapped yourself around him, encouraging him to ruin your needy cunt and to make you take him so deep that you’ll be unable to walk. Your own orgasm hit hard, taking you by surprised and you howled his name.

Sy gripped your bottom and instantly came hard into your trembling body. He held you until you finally fell still and quiet and drew back to look down at you when you started giggling.

‘That… did not go the way I planned.’

‘S’ok,’ he smiled in response, picked you up from the sink and carried you into the bedroom. ‘Let’s do it planned.’

-the end, you naughty little things. I love you ;D

Tag list: @lightsidecalling @omgkatinka @igotkatiepowers @the-soot-sprite @harrysthiccthighss @little-green-love @foxyjwls007 @angreav @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous @whiskey-cokenstuff @laketaj24 @october505 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @foodieforthoughts @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @singeramg @sapphirescrolls @emyearns @brandycranby @zealoushound @eldarwen333 @beck07990 @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @kalesrebellion @angrythingstarlight

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill #captain syverson #syverson #enola holmes #the witcher #syverson x you #syverson x reader

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ff-imagines · 3 years ago

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Oh snap you're opened. Welcome back! Can you please do the nsfw alphabet for peking duck? I really like your writing!

Peking duck: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

The best at it, honestly. Might seriously cry a little afterwards lmao. You don’t have to ask for anything because he’s already thought ahead and is shoving everything you could need your way. It might get a little ridiculous with how careful he is with you, he doesn’t mean to baby you, he’s just terrified of hurting you. If you’re sore at all he feels incredibly guilty, even if there is a tiny part of him that twinges in pride when you remind him you’d asked for a rough treatment and, well, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give you exactly what you asked so nicely for.

B - body part

Of yours, it’s more a question of what he doesn't like. If he had to make a choice, he’d say your stomach. It’s good to lay his head on it, and it’s one of the softest parts of your body so it’s nice and warm. He’d die before he admitted it but some nights he goes a bit harsher than usual, splaying his hand across your stomach and feeling how deep his cock is inside you as he thrusts- it drives him insane really.

He also loves your hands, always wants to be holding you hand, especaily during sex. Will pin you down in a loving way by lacing his fingers with yours above your head.

On himself? Definitely his hair. Playing with his hair and giving him a scalp massage makes him feel some type of way. Sit in his lap while you run your nails across his scalp and he’ll bury his nose in the crook of your neck and moan for you, whatever happens next is up to you babes xoxo

C - cum

It’s not a crazy amount but it’s pretty thick. You can’t tell me he doesn’t have a big ass breeding kink. What can he say, Peking Dad is a family man! Just the thought of cumming deep inside you has him thrusting all that harder. Beg him to cum inside you, I dare you. You’ll see a side to him that’s much more feral than you’ve ever seen this sweet man. Would 100% cum inside and buck into you just a bit longer to fuck any cum that’s slipped past his cock back inside you.

D - dirty secret

He wants to take pictures of you while in your blissed out state. He loves you so stupidly much, he’s already got tons and tons of pictures of you going about your daily life. He’s the type to see a cat asleep and go “what a rare moment I must capture it forever” and that stays true with his beloved. If you’d let him, he’d love to make some… home videos with you, ones he’d definitely come back to rewatch to the point where your whines are committed to memory like the lyrics to his favourite song.

E - experience

I’d say he’s not a green bean with sex. I don’t think he’s been around the block either. He’s probably opened up such intimacy with a few others before just to test the waters, but hasn’t really felt passionate about opening that part of himself back up for quite some time. He’d most likely fumble a bit to begin with as he recalls the motions.

F - favorite position

Whatever yours is! He’s the definition of a true switch, let him soft dom you or treat him how you like, it’s up to you!

If he had to pick, he’s most likely a sucker for when you’re on his lap. No matter if he’s in charge or not, he just loves to look up and see the way your face scrunches when he bucks and hits that one spot inside you that makes your mind vacate.

G - goofy

Not…. Really? He’s accidentally goofy by saying something super out of place during intimate moments or by fretting over something you wouldn’t even think to be worried over. You could have his cock buried so deep in your insides will feel like they’ve molded to the shape of his dick and he’d stop and ask if you remembered to turn the oven off lmao

H- hair

On himself he mostly trims to keep it simple but like, that’s it. He’s got a light happy trail that he doesn’t really trim since it’s not that thick, it doesn’t really bother him.

On you, he literally doesn’t care. Shave or don’t, he’s your personal cheerleader either way.

I- intimacy

It’s his expertise, your honour! He lives to be closer to you, learn more about your desires, what makes you happiest, please let him treat you good, he adores you so much, and precious things get treated like royalty in his hands. He commits your body and reactions to memory, almost like he’s taken a photograph of every single touch- and like I said….. if you let him…. he would take pictures ;)

J- jerk off

You’d think he’d only do it occasionally but he actually does it quite a lot. He thinks it’s healthy to release regularly, it’s better to cum now than have a weird spike of horniness in public. He’s probably considered the chance that you walk in on him, and he’s surprised by how much he wants that to happen. For him to be desperately close to the edge and for you to walk in and take over, him a deer in the headlights as you take control, he’s could probably cum to that fantasy alone, honestly.

K- Kinks

Well, obv a big ole breeding kink. The thought of cumming in your deepest parts has him frenzied beyond belief.

Idk if the taking pics thing is a kink but also… that ofc.

I think he’s also into sensory deprivation. Allow him to blindfold you, tie your hands behind you, let him take care of you. He’ll handle everything from here, sweet thing, all you have to do is keep moaning for him in such a pretty way.

He’s also, surprisingly, into masochism. He doesn’t care for sadism at all, he’d die before he left a mark on your perfect skin, however….. if you decided to roughly pull his head back by his hair and bite just a little too hard, you might find him bucking into you a little faster.

He’s probably thought a bit about cock warming, but surprisingly he doesn’t really want it to be…. “sexual” as much as he desires to be closer to you. You sitting in his lap, feeling you exhale against his neck with your arms wrapped around him, all the while is cock is buried deep inside you, it just sounds so intimate, and he finds himself craving to be that close to you often.

The biggest of all? Praise praise praise. Body worship as well. He’s literally always babbling about how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, how amazing you make him feel. Always encouraging and always admiring you, just like he does every single day in non sexual contexts, always sneaking in ways to remind you how much he adores you. Tell him about a certain part of your body you don’t feel confident in, he’s paying extra attention to making it known how perfect everything about you is. Everything you have, own, are, all of it. Peking is your number one fan, sit back let him remind you just why he finds you so lovely, you won’t regret it.

L- location

He prefers to be in a secluded area, he knows he’s loud and he’d be really embarrassed if anyone but you brought up the….. volume of his whines.

However, he’s very weak when it comes to your begging. If you're in a less than private location, he’ll most likely let you lead and just try to bite his knuckle to keep from crying out. It'd be soOoOo awful if you made a game out of trying to get him to break and whine out for you unmuffled as you play with him, oOoOoHhHh the horror >:)

M- motivation

He’s an old dad with an enormous you-shaped hole in his chest, just ask him and he’ll give everything he has to his name to you. You don’t need to wear that certain perfume he loves so much, you don’t need to breathe across his neck like that, you don’t need to run a finger down his spine so slowly, he’ll give you anything you ask for, please don’t tease him so much.

If you straight up ask him for sex, he’ll mostly lean towards soft service domming, if you choose to purposely rile him up, he’ll be in a much subby-er mood.

N- no

Like I’ve said, there really isn’t a sadistic bone in his body. He also doesn’t have literally any desire for humiliation kinks. He just doesn’t like it, giving or receiving. He’s a big ole simp with a big heart and it’s in the palm of your hands, please treat it nicely :’(

O- oral

P l s let him give you oral. He might not be an expert but he lives to make you feel good.

Afab readers…. He’ll most likely try to make you sit on his face at least once, please please he wants to feel your thighs against his head while he works his tongue on you.

Amab readers, he fuckin loves to rub his thumbs on your hips to keep you from bucking as he swallows your cock, he’ll open his mouth for you after you cum, swallow, and open his mouth again to prove he didn’t let a single drop go to waste.

As for receiving, phew boy does he love receiving. He cannot for the life of him figure out where to put his hands so it’s a frenzy of him grasping the sheets to biting down on his knuckle to placing a hand on your head. If you made him look down at you and lock eyes while his cock is in your mouth his soul would leave his body lmao

P- pace

Not very fast at all, he prefers to thrust deeper than should be possible. He really likes when you beg him to go faster, and as soft as his heart is, this is the only time he might withhold himself from giving into your begging for a bit, he just loves pulling out so slowly and watch you almost cry out for him to thrust back, deeper harder, faster, please, he’ll give into you eventually, just let him savour the feeling of you needing him badly enough to cry for a few more minutes.

Q- quickies

He prefers long, drawn out rounds, but if you really need some relief quickly, he’s not one to deny you. He will most likely give in, and later on in the night when you're back home and out of the public eye, suggest you two have a much more... thorough round as quick rounds just don’t satisfy him enough.

R- risk

Surprisingly…… he kinda likes the idea. The thought of someone, maybe even someone who’s been pining for you, to catch him in the act of making you beg and cry for him. Alternatively, making them watch you as you give your full attention to him, pleasure him, make them watch you love him instead of them. It riles him up in a way even he’s not used to.

S- stamina

He’s an old man, his refractory time is kinda long lmao. He prefers one really long round rather than multiple. He doesn’t mind or judge if you need a little more, and doesn’t mind giving you a few more orgasms with his tongue or hands.

T- toys

He doesn’t have any, but he’s open to the idea! Admittedly, he likes the idea on himself, like, really likes the idea. Give him a cock ring and watch him cry out as he begs for a break that he doesn’t actually want to take because the bliss you’re giving him is making him feel like jelly.

U- unfair

He's tried to edge and tease you before but he gave in so damn quick it was almost embarrassing for him. He just adores you, he lives to please you, even if you beg him not to give in and try to tease you he just can’t, his heart is so so squishy and he loves you very much dear, please let him treat you exactly how you beg to be treated.

Overstimming however….. he does it accidentally a lot, he just loves prolonging your pleasure, watching you squirm a bit as he forces a second orgasm out of your poor spent body.

V- volume

He’s very loud honestly. If you decide to dom him he talks a lot. He's got a bad babbling habit, words of adoration bleeding from his lips that get more and more incoherent the longer you toy with him. Play with him long enough and he’ll forget how to form words, letting out loud whines and he squirms under you. You might catch him attempting to cry out your name but the poor thing just can’t seem to form the right words.

If you let him top you he’s still throwing out every compliment he can think of and he still whines a lot, he likes to bury his face in your neck to muffle himself and listen to your moans. He lives to hear you come undone, but he can’t help being so loud, you’re just so warm and you feel so good :(

W- wild card

I think jealous sex will be more common than you actually think, Peking is just very quiet about the reason he’s suddenly a bit more handsy. He knows it’s not rational to worry about his place in your heart, but it just eats at him sometimes when he sees the way you blend in with others so easily while he just… doesn’t. If a stranger/friend is more overt about their flirting he will probably be more obvious about the jealousy burning through his veins. Even if he wasn’t prompted through jealously, pillow talk sometimes leans towards him venting his fears to you. Please praise him, tell him how much you love him, he needs it :’((((

X- X Ray

A lot bigger than average and a bit curved. He never considered himself to be out of the norm, or never really considered his cock to anything else than, just, “well, its there” I suppose. He does appreciate the curve a lot more now because it makes it easier to hit your weak point. He feels a bit of pride nestling into his chest if you cry about him being too big.

Y- yearning

Fairly often, but he doesn’t mind not acting on it. He can still function and do his work if he’s only surface level horny. Literally anytime you ask he’ll deliver with very slim exceptions. He’d like it to be a regular thing, since he really enjoys the intimacy, so maybe 3-4 times a week, 1-2 if you prefer it to be.

Z- zzz

Oh man he loves cuddling with you after sex. He also loves cuddling with you period but god he loves to the pillow talk with you in his arms, listening to your sleepy voice as your grip on him slowly loosens -but never lets go, as you succumb to sleep. He isn’t overly sleepy himself, instead choosing to close his eyes and comb through your hair, or run a thumb across your cheek if your hair isn’t a texture that can be combed through. Sleep will come to him eventually, he just likes savouring the warmth you bring him.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff peking duck #peking duck #ff peking duck x reader #peking duck x reader

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

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FREE FIRE – THE DEAL

Pairing: Chris (Cillian Murphy) x Reader

Words: 2,224

Warning: Pure Filth and Smut!

It was 11pm on Sunday Evening, 6 January 1978 and you were about to make the deal of a lifetime.

Your father was in the military and had recently been expelled from the forces and imprisoned after it was found out that he had sold military weapons to rebels in foreign countries.

He was serving his sentence quietly and never gave up the location of the remainder of the guns he had stolen. But you knew where they were and you had found a purchaser, one of your father’s regular customers and a man you’ve known for many years.

He was young and idealistic, just as you. Your father called him naïve but you saw something else in him and he’s been trying to convince you to go out with him for the past three years.

You kept declining his offer. He wasn’t your type, or was he?

**********

‘Is this how you conduct business Chris?’ you chuckled as you walked into the large factory building, in the middle of which was a table with two chairs, some candles and a bottle of wine.

‘I thought that, perhaps, it’s time for this date we’ve been talking about for the past three years’ Chris responded with a cheeky smile.

‘Listen Chris, I am not going to fuck you in this dirty old factory. I am a woman with class. Let’s talk business, shall we?’ you laughed and it didn’t take you and Chris long to agree on a price for the guns.

‘I will give you half now in exchange for the pick-up location. Then the other half following pick up by my men’ he suggested and, considering his longstanding relationship with your father, you agreed subject to one condition. You were going to stay together until the deal was completed and the guns had been collected by his men so that you could collect full payment from him immediately.

Once agreement was reached, Chris called in his men who arrived with a suitcase full of cash which you handed to your acquaintance. In exchange, you handed his men a map indicating the location of the guns.

‘Where is the rest of the cash?’ you asked and Chris pointed to another suitcase which he took off one of his acquittances.

‘Good, now perhaps we could take this suitcase to a location with heating. It will take your men at least three hours to collect the guns’ you suggested and Chris nodded, picking up the suitcase and the bottle of wine, before reaching for your hand like a gentleman.

‘My place isn’t far from here Love’ Chris smirked, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

‘Oh common, really?’ you asked but then reluctantly agreed, knowing that it was safer at his place than it would be elsewhere considering the large amount of money he was carrying.

Eventually, you arrived at his large loft style apartment which looked like a bachelor patch.

‘Wine?’ he asked, walking over to his own little bar area.

‘Gin and Tonic’ you responded and watched Chris prepare your drink.

Chris owned a collection of guns and other interesting weapons and you were intrigued, asking him about one gun in particular.

‘How does it work?’ you asked. You knew it was a gun but it barely looked like a gun.

‘I can show you. But you will need to come closer’ he said and so you did, approaching him carefully.

He explained the gun to you, pulling it apart in the process and it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. But it wasn’t just the gun you looked at. His deep blue eyes also caught your attention and you loved the musky smell of his after shave.

‘You know, I am also carrying a gun. Just in case. But you didn’t search me for it which is a bit reckless don’t you think?’ you smirked after you walked away from him and sat down on one of the barstools.

‘I can’t see a fucking gun. Where are you hiding it?’ Chris chuckled, unsure whether he should take you seriously or not.

‘I can show you. But you will need to come closer’ you giggled, causing Chris to laugh.

‘How close?’ he asked as he approached you and, in response, you spread your legs, revealing the gun holster beneath your skirt, right on your upper thigh.

‘Do you mind if I take this? Just in case’ Chris asked as he stepped in between your thighs.

‘No, you are unarmed. So it’s just fair if I am unarmed too’ you smirked, opening your legs wider, allowing him to remove the gun and gun holster from your thigh.

‘Jesus, that didn’t take long’ you smirked as you ran your hand up his body, over his hard stomach and chest and then back down to his crotch, his raging erection poking against his tight jeans.

‘We’ve got three hours girl. What do you want to do?’ he asked as he gripped your hips and pulled you into him, right of the chair you were sitting on.

‘Let’s fuck Chris’ you said just before pressing your lips onto his, kissing him passionately;

‘I’ve been waiting for you to say this for the past three years Y/N’ Chris said as your lips drifted apart and just before he brushed your hair over your shoulder and kissed you on the neck. You moaned as you could feel his gentle kisses. His moustache tickled your skin as he did.

His hands went softly around your waist while his lips moved back up from your neck to your mouth, and you kissed deeply, your tongues exploring each other's mouths. You ran your hand down his back and squeezed his firm ass cheeks, pulling him closer. You could feel his hardness press into you as you pushed your hips forward, moaning into his mouth.

Chris moved back to your neck, planting more kisses. Another moan and his hand slid over your left breast, squeezing through the fabric. Your nipple hard and sensitive underneath. But, it wasn't enough for him and he went underneath, his hand caressing your flat stomach before sliding up your top, revealing that you were wearing no bra to shield his light touch.

As Chris was cupping your breasts, you felt down between you and gripped him through his jeans, feeling how hard he was.

‘Damn Chris’ you moaned while he kissed down your neck and chest, lifting my top as he went, exposing your breasts.

His hand touched your thigh and you felt the heat rise between your legs as his hand slid to the inside and higher, touching the fabric of your already soaking panties. He stopped where he was and you internally begged him for more. He held his hand there, our eyes locked and you bit your lip.

‘Keep going’ you said and his hand immediately moved your panties aside beneath your cotton skirt, running his finger over your wet slit.

‘Oh fuck yes’ you moaned as he was teasing you and opening you up to him with his fingers.

You could only imagine how wet you felt as he explored you with his finger.

You put your hands on his hard chest and gripped against the cotton of his shirt as he slid a finger into you. He watched your face as you screwed it up in pleasure and he pushed another finger in, going even deeper.

You felt the fingers slip deep inside you, the palm of his hand pressing against your clit. You groaned loudly. He knew what he was doing.

You were so aroused but you also didn't want to come too soon, thinking it made you look so desperate. But you were close, and you stood no chance.

He forced his fingers deep inside you, exploring your wet entrance as you moaned. You kissed him hard while he moved to your clit, applying pressure, squeezing it between two of his fingers before moving them around in circles.

‘I am going to cum’ you moaned and he started to move his fingers faster. It sent you over the edge almost immediately, soaking his fingers as he pushed them into your clenching pussy. You clung on to him, your legs were shaking as he was supporting you so that your legs didn’t give way.

‘So, fucking sexy. I can’t wait to finally fuck you’ he said as you came on his fingers and you blushed, smiling deeply.

When you finally came down from your high, Chris spun you round and pushed you against the countertop of the bar. He reached round and pulled off your skirt and panties, leaving you completely naked except from your boots.

By this point he had taken off his shirt and the next thing you could hear was the zipper off his pants before he bent you over the counter almost forcefully.

‘Oh god please’ you groaned. You stuck your little bottom out, lifting it as he slid his cock in between your legs, rubbing his thick shaft against your entrance.

‘Put it in Chris. I want to feel you inside me’ you moaned.

‘You will. I wanted this for three fucking years’ he said as he pressed you down.

You groaned as you could finally feel the tip of his cock, prising you open slowly.

‘Oh fuck’ you cried as you reached back and slowed his entry. His thick cock stretched you open as it slowly entered you. He eased back and then pushed forward again, applying more pressure. Then he finally slid all the way in and you moaned loudly, shaking in pleasure.

‘Oh yes Chris, fuck’ you groaned, your breasts firmly pressed against the cold countertop. He pushed in deep, then started slowly moving his hips, gently fucking you.

‘Fuck you feel good Y/N’ Chris groaned as he kept thrusting into you with a steady speed.

‘Faster’ you moaned and Chris began to push into you harder and deeper, then increasing the speed of his movements.

You started moaning louder and his fingers soon moved back in between your legs as he was thrusting into you, massaging your clit while he was fucking you.

‘Cum for me Y/N’ he groaned as his fingers started moving, pressing hard on your most sensitive area as he continued to slide in and out of you.

You tried to speak, but only moans escaped. It wasn't long before you were shaking against him. Your second climax ripping through your body. Your groans filled his apartment and you gripped his hand to still his fingers as it became too much to take. Holding them against you, his pelvis still moved and his cock inside you felt so good that you continued to cum.

He pulled your head back and kissed you, deep and hungrily. Then, he suddenly pulled out.

‘Don’t stop Chris’ you moaned and, without words, he lifted you up and you found yourself with your back on the kitchen table.

He spread your legs widely before lining himself up with your entrance again, pushing into you deeply.

You bit your lip hard as he went deeper than before. Your body still trembling from your orgasm.

‘Fuck’ you moaned as, again, his slow deep thrusts felt so amazing. His hands caressed my stretched out legs

‘You want me to fuck you faster?’ he asked and you nodded, barely able to speak yourself. He picked up the pace, his hands gripping your hips.

He started thrusting into you, harder and faster. You started groaning with every thrust, hard and deep. You felt his own desperation, his needs, pouring out of him in his actions.

You started rolling your hips into him, forcing him deeper. Making him fuck you harder while watching his face, the intensity in his eyes made you groan. His want, adding to your arousal.

Your fucking became frantic. Him thrusting into you whilst you rocked into him. Your rhythm completely out, both too focused on your thirst to cum.

‘I'm going to cum’ Chris said, breathlessly. ‘Where...?’ he asked in between moans.

‘Cum in me Chris’ you moaned, wanting him to fill you.

‘Fuck’ Chris groaned, pushing hard into you as, with one final thrust, he filled you with his warm cum. His cock was stiffening inside you and you stopped and groaned as he filled you. The sensation of him pulsating inside you and filling you with his warm seed made you orgasm again, adding to the echoes of the groans bouncing around the room.

His body shook and spasmed against you. The feeling of you doing that to him was ecstasy itself and you gripped him tight.

He held you against him as you came down from your highs and you trembled lightly in his arms. Eventually he prised you off as he softened inside you, his cum leaking out of you slowly while he looked you deep in the eyes.

‘This was fucking fantastic’ you grinned as you looked at your watch. You still had 90 minutes before Chris’s men would have the guns in their possession.

‘Do you want to fuck some more? We still have time’ you asked, causing Chris to laugh.

‘Absolutely’ Chris smirked before picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom for the next round.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey janelongxox @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby @chocolatehalo

#free fire #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #chris free fire

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lilsuzn · 4 years ago

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MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T. (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do...

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything.

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility.

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can.

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure.

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc hc #mlqc headcanon #mlqc lucien #mlqc smut

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anotheranimestan · 4 years ago

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Kiss Drought

Jealous Aizawa smut + possessiveness

NSFW!! Please note y/n is of age here!!

wc: 3.9k

Since my last Aizawa post is my most successful one (I am happily surprised) it only made sense to make my first smutty post for him 🤤

Perched on a barstool playing with the straw in your drink, you were waiting for your date to show. Being late wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Shouta Aizawa but you were missing him badly tonight. Impatient since you hadn’t been able to see him for a few days. Somehow you’d convinced him to join you for a night out at this bar. You’d spent hours getting ready out of pure excitement. Putting on your sluttiest dress and lingerie to make it worth his while.

You settled yourself at the end of the bar, secluded where the lights didn’t reach and few people were. Aizawa hated being in the spotlights. Excited to see if you all done up for him had the intended effect, your eyes were glued to the door. Your hopes getting crushed every time another person walked in that wasn’t him.

“Hey.” A voice projecting over the music tore through your concentration. You jumped to find a tall burly guy with spiked hair and an over-confident smile leaning against the bar next to you.

You didn’t respond. Just stared at him in pure confusion. Surely you didn’t look like you wanted anyone to talk to you.

“How’s your night going?” He persisted.

“Fine.” You said curtly.

“That’s good. I saw you hiding back here from across the way there and I told my bud ‘I just have to go say hi to that smoking chick.’”

You grimaced. A master at flattery.

“So what’s your name?” He continued, not picking up on any of your social cues.

You gave him the stupidest fake name you could think of on the spot.

“Ah. Of course a hot girl has a hot name.”

You nodded in agreement. Listening to him was killing your brain cells.

“You look familiar you know....wait. You’re one of those pros from the next town over aren’t you.”

You nodded. Surprised he had the mental capacity to recognize smaller heroes like yourself.

He scoffed, proud of himself. “I knew it. Lady heroes are always hot.” Dear god someone get him away. “You know I could have gone pro myself.”

“Oh yea?” You replied doubtfully.

“Yeaaaa. But you know, I figured better not. Villains would have a hard time against me.” He joked. He raised his bicep and winked at you. Clearly about to show off whatever pitiful power-up quirk he was so proud of.

But his confident smile fell as you stared at him waiting to get his little show over with. His face contorted into horror. Realizing he couldn’t power-up.

“Ah. That’s weird.” He said unable to comprehend what was happening. But you were pretty sure you knew what was up.

“Aw honey it’s okay.” You cooed. “Sometimes alcohol makes it hard for guys to...you know...get things working.” You gave him your best fake smile. Highly amused by his ego shattering.

“Excuse me.” He sputtered and ran to the restrooms in humiliation.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched him nearly crying when he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Suddenly you sensed a presence looming behind you.

“I figured you were somewhere nearby.”

You turned in your seat to find sleepy midnight eyes focused on you under a few loose strands of silky black hair. He had his hair tied back just the way you liked it and he hadn’t shaved in a few days so the stubble on his chin completed his signature look. He was so fucking handsome. You’d missed him so much.

“Sorry I’m late...” His gravely voice sounded like he just woke up. “but you look amazing.” He said sweetly soaking you in.

Forgiveness wasn’t even necessary. You immediately melted any time he was in the room. It was effortless the way he could snatch you up.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, Eraserhead.” You teased with a raised eyebrow. Already succumbing to his gravity that always seemed to pull you in.

He immediately knew you weren’t referring to his tardiness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He lied with a little smile playing on his lips. Looking down as he felt your finger which was tracing the line down the center of his chest that was deliciously exposed by his partially unbuttoned button-down shirt. It wasn’t fair how he always looked so effortlessly sexy.

“I think he just wanted to be friends. No need to be jealous.” You cooed, knowing it was going to swirl up emotions in him that he was definitely going to deny. A little payback for being late.

He leaned down to your level. You held your lips dangerously close to his. Waiting for him to kiss the honeyed words off your tongue, despite the impatient desire growing in your chest. He always liked to make you wait. It gives him satisfaction knowing you’re stubborn enough to hold out for him to make the first move. Few people are more stubborn than himself. He always found that impressive about you. That and the way you were so good at baiting him.

“I don’t think I need to be jealous about that...situation.” He was willing to bite tonight.

“And why not?” You pretended to pout, tugging on his shirt with your ring finger for him to come closer and close the gap.

He considered his next move. Well aware that you were ready to pounce on any weak response.

“I can tell by the way you’re looking at me right now.” The edge of his lips tilted up. Knowing he had you cornered.

You growled, biting your lip. He came ready tonight. You hated when he smirked like that. Like he’d won. Even if it did make him look incredibly sexy.

“That’s very bold of you.”

“Am I wrong?”

He finally ended his touch drought and caressed your delicate jaw. So distracted by him quenching your thirst you’d forgotten to respond. You just sat there hanging on to his every movement. Entranced by the way he was admiring the color of your mouth.

His thumb grazed the center of your plump bottom lip. Dragging it down to watch the way it cushioned under his pressure.

He chuckled when you stuck your tongue out as he traced. Licking the pad of his thumb and then wrapping your pretty lips around it.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He said with a smug grin.

Somehow you went from being the cat to being his mouse.

“You are cruel.” You pouted. Begging him with your eyes to end this torture and kiss you.

It made him smile, with strange satisfaction knowing you’re too hard-headed to just ask for what you wanted. A sadist at heart. But you were so adorable when you were like this.

He answered your unspoken plea. “How about I buy you a drink first.” Deciding to hold out on you. Not ready to end this game you started quite yet.

You huffed.

“Someone beat you to it. Early bird gets the worm I guess.” You gestured to the glass of dark liquor sitting on a coaster next to you, knowing damn well you’d bought it for yourself. But you weren’t going to let him get away with this treatment.

He gave you a skeptical look.

“What? Does that bother you baby?” You pressed. You’d get him to admit it one day.

He paused. “Again, not that concerned considering you didn’t drink any of it.” You realized you hadn’t even taken your first sip yet.

Fuck. It’s like he was running on a full nights rest or something.

He slid the glass out of your hand. Disposing it just in case someone actually had tried to buy his girl a drink. Waving the bartender down he ordered your favorite, which he’d memorized a long time ago. A move no other man in this bar could attempt to pull.

“Wow. My favorite drink. Are you trying to impress me or something?” You asked with a cocked brow.

He smirked as he handed over his card to open a tab. You knew exactly the kind of power move he was pulling.

This flicker of his competitive side sent a surge of tingles between your legs which were currently spread on either side of Aizawa’s jeans. After a few days without him you were already longing for him. This was making it worse. You found yourself pressing your thighs together, which didn’t go unnoticed.

His voice was so deep and his tongue lazy when he spoke. You could practically feel the vibrations of his vocal chords right now, just like when they moaned into your mouth. The yearning for him was growing deeper in the pit of your stomach. But he was set on stringing you along. Punishment for teasing him about another guy.

“Here.” He placed the lightly a dewed drink in your hands, ice clinking against the glass. His fingers grazing yours sent another wave of frustration through you as you pictured them caressing your skin.

You’d run out of quips and were feeling tongue-tied. Focusing on the growing swirls of sensations that were beginning to dampen your black lace thong, Aizawa’s favorite.

Aizawa took some long draws of his drink while watching you sip in yours. Eyes intent on your lips wrapped around that straw. The tensing of your delicate throat as you swallowed. Picturing your pink tongue lapping the pad of his thumb again.

He finally sat down on the other bar stool. His knees parting to give himself room for the pressure you were stirring between his legs.

You prodded him with some questions about work. But he was being awfully quiet. He only half-heartedly answered your questions.

Getting a fuller view of you now he was too distracted. His body temperature rose at the tightness of your dress against your body. Your exposed neckline hinting at the fullness of your breasts underneath. Your legs looking smooth and long in that dress that stopped only a few inches below your ass.

Irritation flashed through Aizawa’s skin as, over your shoulder, he saw the guy emerge from the bathroom and look directly at him. He had started walking in your direction, like he was coming back for seconds, before he noticed you were with another man. He hadn’t been that bothered when he first arrived but now he felt his rarely-seen temper flaring up at the thought of this guy trying to make a move on you.

You were mid-sentence when you saw Aizawa’s jaw clench. His irritation fueled the fire that was blazing in your lower stomach. He only got that possessive look in his eye over one thing. You.

You had to shift in your chair to try and ease the throbbing under your dress. Desperately trying to distract yourself if you were going to be able to hold out against Aizawa’s punishment drought.

You were going to need a few shots to pull it off. Pulling your dress down, unsuccessfully trying covering your butt, you stood up to wave the bartender down.

Aizawa flinched, the tightness in his pants growing after seeing the curve of your ass peeking out under your dress. His body went up in flames however when he caught muscle man catching a look as well. Temper properly stoked, he was hellbent at letting this guy know he could go fuck himself.

You felt Aizawa snatch your wrist and pull you between his legs. Yelping at the abrupt movement, you stabled yourself from tripping over your heels on his crotch, accidentally, and felt the lump that had formed there.

“What are you doing?” He growled in your ear.

“I’m...ordering another drink?” You said confused.

“I’m the only person who’ll be ordering your drinks for the rest of the night.” He informed you warmly, giving your ass a squeeze before resting his hand over the exposed part. “What do you want babe?” He cooed when the bartender arrived.

He ordered four shots of your favorite tequila.

Your arms draped around his shoulders as he held you in his domain. One arm relaxed on the bar, the other territorially holding you against him.

As you both downed the shots you noticed him glaring at something every few seconds under hooded eyes.

“What are you looking at?” You said leaning forward.

“Nothing important.” He growled through a clenched jaw.

But you’d followed his eye-line to find the man from earlier at the other end. You grinned in satisfaction.

A devious streak surged through you. Excited to see how your man would react to you now.

“I thought you weren’t jealous.”

His dick twitched at your hand brushing over his jeans.

“I’m not.”

“Well it seems like he’s bothering you. Want me to go over there and have a few words with him for you babe?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think you want to try something like that.”

“I think I might.”

He downed his last shot, the alcohol starting to buzz in his head. He was struggling to keep his temper under control. You were really testing him, on purpose too which made it worse. But he knew how you worked and how to press your buttons.

“Then go do it.” He urged. Releasing his hold on you. Holding his arms up in the air.

You huffed. Wrapping your arms around him even tighter. You hated when he did that. He knew you wouldn’t go. And you hated even more when he took his hands off you.

“You’re so mean.” You whined.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry baby. But you really think I’d let you win this little teasing game of yours so easily?” You yelped when his hand came down heavy on your ass again. Jutting your hips onto his hardened boner. “Unless you’re trying to tell me I have an actual reason to be jealous.” He dared you, looking you directly in the eyes.

He had you cornered again. His little mouse. You couldn’t even pretend to admit that another man caught your eye. And the throbbing in your panties was unbearable now. You were dying to smash your mouth on his.

You whimpered as he swept your hair from your neck. His lips only grazing your skin as he whispered into your ear. “You can tell me the truth baby.” He cooed.

You were barely holding out against him. Your stubbornness was seconds from giving out. His deep voice in your ear had you dripping. You crossed your legs trying to hold yourself together but Aizawa wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Come here.” He instructed as he lifted your leg over his knee so that you straddled his thigh. The pressure against your throbbing sex eliciting a soft moan.

He gave one more glance at the pathetic guy from earlier who was visibly tense. Having to watch you perched on his lap. Wilting over him in submission.

Suddenly you were very thankful you were tucked away where few people could possibly notice you melting over him, a mess.

“So? Should I be jealous?” He placed his final chess piece.

You whimpered more as his hand guided your hips to grind against him. Your stubbornness snapped.

You shook your head no into the crook of his neck. Your pussy started convulsing, desperately wanting him to touch you.

“Say it.”

“No baby. There’s no one to be jealous about. Nothing.”

You whined into his ear pressing your lips against him.

He groaned in satisfaction at hearing you admit it.

He shifted his leg to stretch out your stance. Your knee hooked over his thigh, exposing you so he had full access. The cold air hitting your drenched underwear made your breath hitch.

His thumb massaged the inside of your thigh, causing your hips to buck in anticipation. It was killing you.

“Please Shouta. Stop teasing me.” You whined.

You licked your lips which were painfully dry from lack of kisses.

The gloss of your saliva on your lips made his mouth water.

“You look so pretty.” He said grazing the outside of your drenched panties with one finger.

You bit back a moan that was surely going to be so loud everyone at the bar was going to hear.

“Fuck. You’re so wet...all this for me?” He said hanging his head back as he fought the urge to throw you onto the bar and ram his dick into you. Right where muscle man could see.

Another soft moan from you brought him back though. You nodded, cheeks flushed with embarrassment that he had you this unraveled in front of everyone. Although surprisingly nobody had noticed yet.

He slipped two fingers past your lips. Your tongue swirling around them. His dick throbbed at the sight of your mouth wrapped around him. Sadly wrapped around the wrong body part.

He removed them slowly. Mouth gaping at the saliva that strung off your tongue as he moved them back under your dress, moving your panties to the side and tracing tracing a wide circle around your clit. Just slow enough to hold you on the edge of pleasure.

“I want to hear you say whose pussy this is.” You cried softly. “Tell me baby.” He said watching your face contort at his touch.

You dipped your lips to his ear. Too abashed to look him directly in the eyes right now as he had you helplessly wrapped around his finger.

“It’s yours.” You squeaked out.

“Say my name.”

You were squirming uncontrollably now. But he was careful not to give you what you were dying for until he heard the words spill off your tongue. “It’s yours Shouta...all yours. Please just fuck me already.” You gushed.

“I love how my name sounds in your mouth.” He cooed as he plunged two fingers into you. Feeling the juices swirl around his fingers as he pumped them slowly in and out.

Your hand latched onto his shoulder, digging in at his touch. Your hips couldn’t stop grinding against his hand as you used his thumb as a rubbing board for your clit.

“Look at me.” The sight of your face flushed with pleasure was turning him on even more. Abusing your clit even faster as he felt your walls pulsing around his fingers. The tightness in his pants growing painful at how much it wanted you sat on top of him.

“Kiss me.” You pleaded one last time.

Finally ending his kiss drought, he attached onto that pouty bottom lip of yours. Sucking it hungrily. It had been just as hard for him to keep himself off you. He’d been dying to taste every inch of your body.

You latched onto his lip hoping you’d never have to let go. Biting hard to release all the frustration he’d built up in you. He flinched in pain. Having to slip his hands out of you to pry you off him.

“Fuck.” He said feeling his lip. You’d bit him so hard a little blood had been drawn.

“I’m sorry.” You said biting your nail.

“I suppose that was my own fault wasn’t it.” He smiled before sucking your juices off his fingers.

The sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your pussy was clenching around nothing. Grasping for his dick. You needed him. Right now.

You broke out of his hold and dragged his weight behind you to the ladies restroom. Thanking the heavens there was no line because you would easily have punched your way through it.

Slamming the door shut and locking it he immediately threw your weight against the wall. Picking you up and wrapping your legs around him. You clung to him like he was life itself and started aggressively sucking hickeys onto his neck.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whined into his ear.

“I missed you too baby. A lot.” He said kissing your neck as he ripped his jeans and briefs down. He couldn’t wait another second to get inside of you.

His dick was rock hard as he swirled the head around your wet opening. Coating it with your warm juices. He groaned loudly in your ear as he sunk into you for the first time.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

Chills went through you as you felt him stretching out your walls. Wanting him to stuff you with every inch he had.

He pumped into you quickly. You relished at the pain and pleasure of his forceful thrusts. He wanted you so desperately he couldn’t control his power even if he wanted to.

He crashed his mouth against yours to muffle the loud moans that they definitely could hear on the other side of the door.

His mouth started sucking on that pink tongue of yours, mixing with the intense pleasure of him rutting into you. Your hold around his shoulders was going limp. He was fucking the strength right out of you.

“Turn around.” He ordered as he placed you back on the ground. Hiking your dress up to completely expose your ass.

He pressed your chest up against the wall. The cold bricks chilling your skin as he pushed your panties to the side again and inserted his entire shaft from behind. Bottoming out with one forceful thrust and holding it there as he hit your g-spot. Pleasure surged through your body, causing you to moan his name.

The sound of his name pouring off your lips was causing rumbling in his head. He felt himself nearing as he rammed into you faster. Dick throbbing at the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you.

The knot in your stomach grew tighter as you started rubbing circles around your clit. He was hitting your g-spot with every stroke. You were seconds away from overflowing with euphoria.

“I’m gonna cum Shouta.” You whined as he kept at you relentlessly. Hands clamped on your hips.

“Cum on me baby.” He encouraged as he felt your legs starting to shake.

Just then the knot snapped. And electricity flooded your body. Your hand clamped around his, pulling him against your back in pure gratitude.

Your walls tightening around him sent him over the edge. His rhythm growing sloppy just as he burst, filling you with warm cum. Groaning as he threw his last few weak pumps in pleasure. Coming down from his intense high.

“Shit y/n. Come here.” He said wrapping around your neck and pulling you up to place a sloppy wet kiss on the mouth that had been calling his name.

You both were breathing heavy as he pulled you into his arms. You nuzzled your face into him. Silently worshiping him for the satisfied humming in your body left over from your chilling orgasm.

“I think I missed you more than I realized.” He cooed into your ear. Gently rubbing your pussy from behind. Reminiscing on how amazing the juices felt around him.

You giggled. Yanking him into one last lingering kiss before pulling your dress back down.

He buckled himself up and patted your hair down that he’d disheveled.

When you opened the door, several stunned faces were staring at you.

Giggling nervously, Aizawa pulled you through the crowd to go close his tab out.

He was holding your hand tight as you clung to his arm. Staring at his side profile with hearts in your eyes as he tipped the bartender.

On your way out you bumped into someone’s back. The muscle man turned around in shock.

Not batting an eye you said “excuse me” and kept walking.

You looked up nervously to see Aizawa’s response to the poorly timed interaction but he was just peering at you out of the corner of his eyes with a satisfied little grin.

He grabbed your jaw and pressed a deep kiss on you. Not breaking his stride once as he led you to the door.

“Let’s hurry up and go home. I’m not finished with you yet.”

First smut post so hopefully it didn’t suck 😩

General tags from masterlist: @edgyb1tch @waywardcowboyllamavoid @ladybeautiful18 @halietigges @frosted-flakes @r0zyp0zy0zy @myherosilhouette @wackichris @chargeandinlarge @dumbbird89 @fullsundear @blisssfoooll @tee2cute @dxddydrea @themajesticunicorn

Like my masterlist to be added!

#fanfic #mha shouta #mha aizawa #aizawa sexy #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #mha smut #shouta aizawa #aizawa oneshot #aizawa imagine #aizawa scenario #aizawa headcanons #bnha aizawa #aizawa

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gallickingun · 5 years ago

Text

please, i beg of you || b.k.

SUMMARY: Bakugou has always been arrogant, but it is in these moments when you find him to be nothing more than a prodigy child begging to be a worthy man. Maybe your words can help soothe the burn on his tired soul.

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: smut (18+), praise kink, emotions, language, etc. WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

TAG LIST: at the end of this post!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was born because of a conversation i had with @lady-bakuhoe about bakugou’s praise kink so i hope you enjoy it! i also have to say a HUGE thanks to @k-atsukidayo and @freckledoriya for reading over this for me and making me feel 10,000x better about it’s quality. also, this is my first time trying out a banner so lemme know if you guys prefer it over gifs!

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

Bakugou’s mind fills with a haze the more syllables that tumble from your lips.

Your lips part and it’s like heaven spills out from your honeyed tongue. He could get lost in the way your words wrap around his heart like a vice, the organ beating so intensely beneath his rib cage that he fears he might bruise his very bones. His eyes find your mouth, your teeth and tongue and gums, and he memorizes the way you spell out each syllable.

Praise does not stop with your words, though, that would be far too insufficient.

Your hands find his body in every different way, mapping out the muscle and sinew as if it were to be your lifeline one day. The protruding veins against his forearms and waistline and neck bulge underneath your touch, as if they are only there for you to see.

The first time you did not recognize it for what it was – instead believing that it was his arrogance incarnate in the way he moved his body, the way his tongue practically lolled from his mouth as you continued to praise him for his hard work.

When you met him for the first time, there were clues of it spread throughout your conversation like clues you would eventually pick up on when the time was right.

“Wow,” you run your fingertips over the muscles of his shoulders, watching as they ripple with each movement he makes.

You’re here to repair a gash in his skin – simple, only requiring a few stitches, but enough to get him sent to the agency’s hospital ward. He’s sitting on a tabletop right now, insistent on the lack of anesthesia. You tilt your head, readying the needle to start into his marred skin, “Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure,” he spits out the words, turning to look at you from his uninjured side. Bakugou grits his teeth and wraps his hands around the edge of the surface, knuckles turning white from the force alone. “Now just fuckin’ get on with it.”

You swallow the lump of pure desire sitting on your tongue like sandpaper. It grates your throat as it goes down but does not blur your vision to the point where you can’t see the few freckles dotting his skin, tanned flesh maneuvered just so it might steal your attention. You have to blink a few times so your gaze will settle on the flayed wound on his shoulder, reminding your body why he’s here.

“You must be pretty good,” you manage, “I haven’t seen you in this wing before.”

Bakugou’s chest puffs up, his shoulders straightening. The shift forces you to adjust your positioning, but you don’t mind the way his back becomes more rigid at the compliment. You push your fingertips into the skin to keep him still as he speaks.

“Damn right.”

A light laugh falls from your lips, “Well, I guess that makes me your first.”

The phrase is more suggestive in it’s receipt than you mean by your delivery. Your eyes go wide and you pray that he does not hear you, that he will not respond or react.

Your whole world lights on fire when he murmurs, “Oh, does it?”

Now, after much time has passed, you find yourself searching for his skin every time you are close enough.

You pass him by in the kitchen and are sure to touch his hips to let him know that you’re walking behind him. You swear that it’s just so he won’t accidentally burn you with a pan or so you won’t frighten him and cause him an injury. Deep down you know it’s so you can feel his obliques underneath his tank top, thumbs buzzing off the heat of his skin, even if it’s only for a fleeting second.

And when you see him stood over the counter, going through mail or paperwork, you always make sure to slap his ass.

“Shitty woman,” he growls, looking up at you from a particularly riveting coupon page, “stay the fuck away from my ass.”

He never means it, though. In fact, after observing him for enough time, you know that he enjoys it. You know that in every kind, complimenting word, he finds some kind of ecstasy with the knowledge that you appreciate his body.

And you know this, of course you do.

When he’s fresh out of the shower is when it’s easiest to prey on his body, to litter praise like confetti down over the top of him. He’s leaned towards the mirror, the only thing barring him from the steam of the bathroom is a pair of briefs covering his lower half.

You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, hands trailing over the corded muscle of his abdomen and lower back. Your thumb dips under the band of his underwear, dangerously close to the curve of his ass. Bakugou turns to face you, face still half-covered in bubbled-up shaving cream, one hand clasped around a razor, “Can I help you?”

“You know how much I love your body, fucks sake Katsu’,” you press your mouth to his bicep, nudging your nose over the pinkened skin, still hot from his shower. “Can’t expect me to keep my hands off you when you’re all out in the open like this.”

He growls but there is no malice behind it, “Fuckin’ perv.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “And?”

Bakugou’s face burns crimson so he turns away from you, muttering under his breath as he continues shaving the remainder of his face. You take the moment of his unintentional fragility to dance your fingertips over the bumps of muscle, digging your hands in and pressing your hips to his ass. You kiss between his shoulder blades, running your nose up the column of his spine. Bakugou grunts as his body careens forward, but he catches himself by shifting his feet and leaning his waist against the countertop.

“God, you’re so fuckin’,” you nip at the tip of his shoulder as you slip out from under your robe, “fit.”

The bristling of his muscular frame only hardens further at the sound of your words, the ghost of your touch. Bakugou acts as if he’s not paying you any mind, continuously dragging the razor against the shadows on his face. And yet, as the sinew of his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs, you know he’s feeding off of your words, using them to fuel his self-confidence.

When he bends over to run clean water over his face, you take advantage of the position to dip your hand beneath the waistband and curl his cock in your fist, swirling your thumb over the head. Your breasts push against the center of his back, mouth leaving sloppy, wet kisses over his warm skin. Bakugou’s throat bobs as a whimper bubbles up in his throat, parting his lips, “Shit.”

He rests his head against the mirror, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, babe-”

“Katsuki, I love your shoulders,” you use your free hand to ghost over the plane of flesh and bone, hovering when you find freckles and scars. You grind your hips up against his ass again, groaning when you feel the way his muscles contract. You whine, pressing kisses all over the expanse of skin, “They look so good when you move.”

“Shitty woman,” he grumbles, finally able to turn so he’s facing you, hands yanking your face unceremoniously so he can kiss you full on the mouth.

You pump his cock between your fingers, loving the way his whining vibrates your throat. His tongue slips through your mouth and starts running along your gums. You moan, finding his thigh and brushing your hips against it, using the thick muscle at the center to stimulate your hooded clit. The hand that isn’t preoccupied with his dick starts to roam over every inch of his torso – finding curves of bicep and pectoral and abdomen. You show him appreciation and reverence by drawing your fingerprints against his skin, pawing at him like an insatiable animal.

“Bakugou,” you murmur as his mouth trails from your lips to your jaw, nose nudging against your cheek, “p-please-”

He chuckles, the sound turning into a wave of warm air washing over your neck, sending a patch of goosebumps over your forearms. You fuss at him when his tongue darts to your jugular, a wet warmth pooling between your thighs at the feeling of his mouth. Your thighs clench together, knees knocking at the motion.

Bakugou nips at your earlobe, “Whaddaya want, Princess? You already got me by the cock.”

If you weren’t so enamored by the heat of his tongue on your neck, you might be able to come up with a better retort, something much more intelligent than, “You, please, just you.”

He pulls on your wrist, yanking you away from his cock so he can pull his briefs down to his ankles, stepping out of them swiftly. Bakugou grabs you by the hips, swiveling both of you so now you’re bent at the waist, hands on the countertop as he presses into you from behind. His cock is clamped between your thighs, the tip of him parting your slick folds just enough to make you cry out.

“You got me, baby,” he murmurs into the skin of your shoulder, open-mouthed, wet kisses making a trail up to the curve of your jaw. He nudges his nose over the shell of your ear, “Look at us,” referring to the both of you reflected in the mirror, bodies joined together at the hip. When you look at him through the polished glass, you see your eyes half-lidded and his cheeks tinged red, a wave of slick coats his cock, your cunt fluttering around nothing.

You drop your head but Bakugou is quick to wrap a hand around your hair, pulling your attention back to the reflection, “Uh uh, Princess. You’re gonna watch me destroy that pretty little pussy of yours.”

The sound that parts your lips is nothing short of sinful, and what comes next isn’t any closer to holy.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

And then there are other times when you’re casually affectionate towards him, running your hands over his torso while being tucked into his side on the couch, a film playing in the background. Bakugou makes some offhanded comment about you distracting him, but he lifts his arm and welcomes you closer nonetheless. His hands raises the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, thumb tracing over your ribs.

Of course he’s distracted by the way your hands find every patch of skin on his upper body, even dipping beneath his waistline to marvel at his thighs. You kiss his jaw, “Katsuki,” another kiss planted on his cheek.

Bakugou grunts, “Hm?”

A smile tugs up your lips, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

His face burns crimson but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the television, unwilling to relent and allow you the satisfaction of making him distracted. Despite his reluctance, he still squeezes your side in recognition, tucking you closer to him.

You always try to tell him how much you love his body; he’s worked hard for it, years in the making, blood and sweat and tears forged the bonding of muscles to sinew to bones and you’ll always be there to remind him that it was worth it in the end.

“I just think you’re amazing,” you whisper into the skin of his neck, fingerprints memorizing the pattern of muscle on his lower abdomen.

Bakugou flexes when he hears you talk about his body; not on purpose, but more of as a reaction, as if his body is in tune with your praise and wants you to continue. When you casually grab his arm when you’re walking home, he tenses his bicep so your palm will have more difficulty wrapping around the circumference of his arm. If you’re wrapped around his torso for a piggy-back ride, his shoulder muscles are rippling beneath your body, hardening to the point you wonder if he could rival Kirishima.

You press a kiss to the base of his throat, “I’m really lucky to know you.”

And that’s when Bakugou just can’t take it anymore, when your praise becomes too much and he has to do something about it but he can’t return it. He’s never been good with words, always much better by proving to you that your sweet syllables do reach his ears and have an impact.

So he turns his face as you try to kiss his cheek, mouth colliding with yours. He uses a large palm to press against your cheek, holding you in place like an anchor so he can kiss the breath right out of you.

Bakugou does nothing in half-measures, and that includes kissing you. He’s always sure to pull a sweet sound from your throat, a gentle caress of his hand on your thigh to make your whole body shudder. You can’t help yourself when you straddle him, pulling your weight forward so you can settle into the natural dip his body creates at the waist.

“’Suki,” you murmur into his mouth, “I love you.”

He doesn’t respond at first, but you don’t expect him to. You know superfluous words are not his strong suit, so you feel his love through every tender touch, every hitched breath and starry eyed gaze. You cup his face in your hands, thumbing over the cut of his jaw, sharp edges leading to his neck.

The nipping of your lower lip makes you gasp and whine, hands drifting further down his body to make sure and appreciate his pectorals, thumbs grazing over his nipples to draw out a sound from his own set of lungs.

Bakugou grunts, sitting up so his back is against the arm of the couch, “I love you more,” he manages through strangled breathing.

The simple exchange of too to more makes your heart soar.

His hands are on your thighs when you lean forward to whisper, “I love you most,” into the shell of his ear, hot breath making his flesh pebble with goosebumps. Bakugou groans at the mix of your challenge and the stimulation of your hands and mouth. He lets his hands travel up under your shirt to palm at the base of your spine and further up your shoulders. His touch is warm, painfully obvious due to his quirk, and when his fingertips dig into your skin it’s massage-like in nature and you find yourself feeling delirious every time he graces your body with his caress.

Bakugou is growling at you, turning his hips just enough to careen you off balance, catching you easily with the way he’s already wrapped up in you. His eyes are narrowed and it’s like you’re going off to war with his stare.

“Oi, Shitty Woman,” he uses his quirk just enough to get your attention, tickling you at the center of your spine, “I love you more than most. End of discussion.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

And then, even when he has you under his thumb, you still can’t stop singing his praises.

“Tell me, Princess,” he’s knuckle deep in your cunt, dragging another wave of pleasure out of you in the form of a writhing moan parting your mouth and echoing off the walls. Bakugou knows that you’re incapacitated, but that does not deter him from begging for your affirmation.

You nod, blubbering out syllables that you pray are somewhat coherent, “Y-Yes, please, ju-just like that!”

Bakugou has memorized the tones of your voice, the way that you keen whenever he’s hitting that specific spot in your pussy, middle finger curling and stimulating while his thumb works at your clit. His mouth is sloppy on your chest, lips finding your nipple and sucking.

“F-Fuck, Katsuki,” you whine, “you feel so good.”

He parts from your nipple with a skinny string of saliva from his lip to your chest, brazen eyes glowering up at you in the best way. He cocks his head and the string breaks, cool air washing over your wet chest and your skin pebbles.

“Shit your fuckin’ arms.” You pant and attempt to open your eyes to look up at him from where he’s loitering over your, his body weighty like a comforting shadow. He kisses your mouth and you traipse your hands up and over his forearms towards his biceps, squeezing as he flexes.

The praise only encourages him further, his fingers somehow fitting further into your pussy, stretching you wide as he prepares you for his cock. Bakugou opens his mouth to swallow your moans and tongue, licking over your gums and teeth as you continue to whine kind words into the void.

“Please, Katsuki,” you peel your eyelids back so you can look him in the eyes, finding comfort in the carmine irises. “I-I need you.”

He chuckles, curling his digits harshly within you so your walls flutter around his knuckles, “You’ve got me, baby, what else do you need?”

You shake your head and kick your feet, scraping your ankles against his thighs, “Y-You know!”

“C’mon, pretty girl, tell me what you want,” he nudges his nose against your collarbone, breathing slow so you writhe beneath him at the feel of his breath on your skin. Bakugou’s hand is still buried in your pussy, working you up to another orgasm, the wash of your slick coating his palm and sticking to your thighs. He kisses the curve of your neck and your hands find the dips of his shoulders, digging your fingernails harshly into the tanned skin.

“Want your cock,” you pant, “please, want you to fill me up with your perfect, thick cock, please, please, please!”

Bakugou’s laughter drifts over your throat like a shadow, hot breath and tantalizing tone curling around your neck and squeezing. You gasp, hips canting forward, “Please, I just want your cock in me, please! I-I can’t-”

The sudden loss of heat at your core makes your throat shudder in a whimper, “Katsu-oh.”

He interrupts your plaintive mewling with the tip of his cock butterflying the lips of your cunt wide open, teasing your slit with his dick. Your hands slap his arms, curling desperate fingers round his biceps. You buck your hips forward but the way his thumb is rested around the head of his cock makes it difficult for you to try and pull him further into you.

“Love it when you talk to me, Princess,” Bakugou kisses the inner part of your knee, using his free hand to cup your thigh, pushing your leg back into your chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nod fervently, eyes blown to hell as you gaze up at him, “Y-Yes, Katsuki. Please.”

The heat of your touch only serves to further pinken his body, blush taking over every inch of him as he tries to resist fucking you senseless; taking your body and ravaging it with his mouth and hands and cock.

Bakugou takes your neck in his hands, slowly and teasingly dragging the length of his digits over the thin, sensitive skin of your throat. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the pressure of his palm increases, stars dancing behind your half-hooded lids, irises swallowed by your intense pupils.

Your mouth is muted by his own set of lips taking you captive, cock slipping forward slowly so the stretch of your cunt is drawn out, only growing in fervor with every centimetre of him that dives deeper into you. You try to release some of your pent up tension in the form of a cry or a moan, but Katsuki’s tongue dominates your mouth, running along the curve of your teeth and pressing your tongue down against the base of your throat. You feel tears form in the corner of your lids from the pure ecstasy of his thick cock sliding into your dripping pussy.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, “take my cock so good.”

He’s close to the base of his cock now, your legs wrapping around his waist in a flurry of limbs, attempting to pull him as far as he can go. Your cunt flutters, clamping down on his length as it throbs within you. The feel of him nipping your lip is there, but it’s dull, all of your senses focused on the thickness of his cock and how it supersedes every other capacity you have.

You manage to blurt out something akin to praise, syllables in high pitches turning your mouth into a sanctuary. You hold him in such reverence, every bit of him, and that only pushes Bakugou to fuck into you harder, better. He wants to draw out those elicit sounds from you, the ones that make his stomach stir and his chest tighten.

“So pretty,” Bakugou grunts as he starts to retract from you.

You believe that he means to leave you so you start to claw at his chest and shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep him close to you, a tear slipping down from each eye, “P-Please Katsuki, please-I want your cock so bad, please. You make me feel so good, please.”

He’s kissing over your face, “Hush, Shitty Woman. I’m gonna give you my cock, just want to feel you beg for me a little.”

You’re clamping around him, trying to trap his cock deep in your pussy, holding him there like a captive until you’ve worked yourself up using the thickness of him as friction. Bakugou kisses between your furrowed brows in an attempt to force you into a calm stupor, his gentleness in stark contrast to the inevitable frenzy you will feel between your thighs. And with the way he’s speaking to you, words delicious and teasing of what’s to come, your cunt desperately cries for him, which you suppose is close to the truth. Waves of silvery slick are already dripping from your pussy, evidence of his hard work so easily on display, shining in the light of your bedroom.

Still, somehow you force yourself to listen to him, to calm the raging sea in your body. You relax your back so you aren’t arched against him, pressed up from every joint and bone, and your chest bobs as you settle back into the mattress.

Bakugou takes advantage of your openness to latch his mouth and hands onto your chest. His fingertips tweak one of your nipples while his mouth begins to torment the other. He slips his index and thumb between his teeth and laps his tongue around the digits before returning them to your nipple not currently occupied by his teeth. You whine at the wetness, the cool current from the air conditioner only heightening your sensory overload.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whisper with your eyes closed, cheek smushed by the pillow under your head, “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.”

To accent your keening, Bakugou pulls out just a few inches before ramming his cock back into you, bottoming out on this stroke. He snaps his hips into you, forcing you to stay close with his free hand dug into your hip bone, fingertips acting like an anchor.

As much as the words send a shot of adrenaline-induced pride straight to his head, Bakugou knows they are false, “Shut up, dumbass. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

You allow other sentences of praise to fill the room, words echoed against the walls until you’re lightheaded as he fucks you deeper into the mattress. Bakugou is bucking into you with intent – you know he’s never satisfied until your cunt is dripping around his cock, the threat of your release making you clench every part of your body to stave it off until he’s closer.

Your words act like a drug to him – clouding his mind, turning his body into something like a receptacle, drinking in each syllable as if it were his lifeline. He thinks that he might prefer this over hero work. Being able to make you come undone in the best way, knowing that he’s the only one who has this type of meticulous control over your body. The sounds that slice open your throat until you are raw with want are for him and only him, and he knows that that’s enough.

It’s a high he chases each time he parts your pretty pussy; the reality that there are certain sounds that mean you are on a different plane of reality, experiencing the currents running up your spine in such a way that leaves your pupils blown wide and jaw hung open. Bakugou sometimes doesn’t even care if he comes, so long as he gets the privilege of hearing the beautiful sounds that rip your chest open and echo against the walls of your shared home.

The familiar moan that vibrates your throat sparks something in his stomach, his cock twitching within the tight brace of your cunt, “Katsuki, fuck, your cock-”

You can’t finish the sentence because your eyes roll back in your head and a wave of pleasure captures your body and you’re a slave to riding the high until the coil wound tight in your core unravels. Shocks of intense pleasure make your thighs slick as you come onto Bakugou’s cock, combined wetness making the sound of his hips drilling into yours much louder as he continues his motions.

There is an intensity that comes naturally with Bakugou in the bedroom – as if he’s always on a mission, another part of his life that he wants nothing more than to excel at. You are his sole focus, the one thing on his mind in these moments, and all he can think about is the best angles and pressures and words that will make your body coil until you snap, pleasure washing over you like a wave at sea. He wants to pull as many orgasms from you as he can, until you’re a writhing mess, he knows his job isn’t done.

After all, just one is never enough.

Bakugou brushes the heel of his palm against your belly, just under your navel, “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he mumbles, eyes glazed over with thoughts of seeing your stomach bulging with his come. His mouth is rough on your shoulder and collarbone, biting kisses into your skin until you’re blooming red, “Gonna stuff you full of my come, isn’t that what you want?”

You can’t form words, but he knows this. And yet, this is the most exciting time for him. As he attempts to get you to respond with syllables instead of sounds, Bakugou teases your body even further, pushing you into the realm of overstimulation.

“C’mon, baby,” his voice is patronizing, free hand brushing knuckles against your jawline, “talk to me, isn’t that what you want?”

If you could, you’d glare at him, but your mind has entered that subservient space that makes you putty in his hands, uncaring to the tone of his voice being denigrating. Your hands reach for him, begging for patches of his skin to feel under the pads of your fingers. Bakugou leans closer, encouraging you to grope his arms as he flexes his muscles, digging fingers into the sheets to use like an anchor.

“Katsuki,” your eyes split open and your jaw quivers, “p-please, I-I…”

Even in this state of mind, you are aware that Bakugou is close to coming, his cock hardening to full length within your cunt, the tip of him brushing against the spongey spot hidden away. You keen when you feel him continue to wreck into you, that sensitive part of you that he knows so well beginning to enflame at the repeated stimulation. Your fingernails dig deep into his biceps, half-moon shapes cut into his tan skin.

Bakugou winces, “Baby, hey-”

Your heels bore into the base of his back, begging him to stay close to you. Your eyes struggle to find his face, but once you can focus on his eyes, you don’t waver.

“Shit,” he curses, hips stuttering at the sight of your fucked out eyes. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, “You’re so pretty, baby, so sweet when I fuck you like this.”

You nod, eyes wide and voice desperate as you beg him for more. Every syllable is not your own, your body speaking on your behalf as you careen forward to try and take more of him, to pull him closer with your hands on his shoulders. You want to feel the weight of him like a security blanket, to know that he’s yours and yours alone, and he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d just ask.

“Y-Yes, yes please,” your tone is wanton, edged on the precipice of release and words not your own, “Katsu’, c-come inside me, wanna make you come.”

The begging words that reverberate in his ears are the final straw, coaxing thick ropes of come from his cock as he continues to fuck you through the aftershocks of both of your orgasms. You don’t stop there, though, your mouth finding purchase on his collarbones and pectorals, kisses laced with kindness.

“Feels so good, Katsu,” you whine into his skin, hot breath making his chest tighten, “you feel so good in me, want more of you-”

Bakugou chuckles, rolling his hips forward again as he leans to kiss your temple, “You already got all of me, baby. I don’t have anything left to give you.”

The sentence and it’s weight pry your eyes open and you are staring up at him like he hung the moon. Bakugou sometimes finds it difficult to shoulder the weight of your gaze and what it means. He knows that you can’t control the way your irises gleam, or the little shimmering stars that light up your pupils even in the dark. It’s second nature to you, to behold him in such a way.

And at some level, it stimulates him, forcing him to be the best he can, to earn that look in your eyes. The motivation to see the pride in your irises whenever he returns home after a long day on the job, or even just a day spent doing monotonous paperwork and training, is all he needs. It fills his veins, overtaking his blood and pumping the adrenaline straight to his head.

Reality that he will be able to see this look of reverence settle in your gaze every day for the rest of his life is so overwhelming that he can’t do anything but surge forward and kiss you directly on the mouth.

Because yes, Bakugou is prideful and arrogant, but it is all a mask to hide the utter insignificant being he’s so frightened of becoming. What day will be his reckoning, when he’s exposed as a phony, an imposter only attempting to prove themselves worthy of the public affection he’s received thus far.

And yet, when you tug him close and cover him in the shroud of your kindness, the veil of your love, Bakugou considers that maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the remainder of his days sprinting towards the idea you have of him, the version you’ve pushed up onto an angelic pedestal.

Bakugou discovers that in your arms, he’s found a version of reality where he does not have to be arrogant to conceal the prideful deceptive self he’s built over the years. Instead, he can rely on you to remind him that his broken soul is every bit as beautiful as he’d like to fool himself into believing.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

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kookiesjoonies · 4 years ago

Text

where you belong | myg.

main pairing: idol!yoongi x wife!reader

fic type: one shot

word count: 3.3k

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: the beginnings of oral sex/shower sex, mentions of spitting, nipple play

summary: five vignettes of what being married to yoongi for over three years looks like.

a/n: me: i have the bladder of a squirrel, i’m always getting up to pee. lindy: write a fic like that. and so, i did. enjoy! let me know which vignette was your favorite! also i’ve tried to upload this fic eight million times but it never tags, so. i’m trying again and leaving it up whether it tags or not LOL.

April 12th, 2020. 3:04am.

It seemed like more often than not, you were waking up in the middle of the night with the desperate need to pee. You’d always had the bladder the size of a squirrel, making it difficult for you to get a full night of rest. Every two or four hours, you were awake and trudging your way to the bathroom.

You’d been laying in bed tossing and turning for an hour, trying to get comfortable but finding it more difficult than usual. Lying on your back wasn’t working, so you’d decided to try rolling over and onto your stomach. Which would have worked, except for the fact that you were now pressing on your bladder. With a heavy sigh and a groan, you shoved the covers off of your body and stood up from the bed.

Yoongi, your husband of nearly four years, had been trying his hardest to sleep all night long. But every time you moved or got up, you woke him up too. It was his turn to groan, a loud and frustrated sound that came up from his throat as he dragged the palms of his hands over his face.

“Y/n, please, for the love of God and my sanity, don’t get out of bed again.”

You considered hitting him over the head with a pillow, because did he really think you’d be constantly getting up like this if you could help it?

Your arms crossed over your chest as you peered down at the black haired man below you, “If I didn’t have to get up I wouldn’t, Yoongi.”

“Just squeeze the pee out, Christ.” He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

He didn’t mean to sound hateful, but he was always such a grump when he was woken up. And you couldn’t really blame him, because you were the same exact way.

Still, it was the middle of the night, and you’d slept poorly so far. His attitude wasn’t helping, and you wanted nothing more than to be away from him.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, albeit dramatically, and made your way out of your master bedroom and down the stairs.

You’d decided to use the powder room off the living room, and sleep on the couch afterwards. If Yoongi wanted peace that badly, you’d give it to him.

Yoongi hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off again. And when he woke up, feeling slightly more rested than usual, he immediately grew suspicious. His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand that read 7:14 a.m.

He sighed, relieved. It was his day off, and he was glad he could stay at home and sleep in. And spend the morning with you wrapped up in his arms. He rolled over to pull your body closer to his, cocking an eyebrow when he realized your side of the bed was empty and he’d just been greeted with cold sheets.

Maybe you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, he thought. He’d given you a few moments to return, and when you didn’t, he huffed and tossed the blankets covering the lower half of his body aside.

He decided to go searching for you, starting in your en-suite bathroom. His eyes scanned the decently sized room, frowning when there was no sign of you. It was still too early for you to willingly be awake, and he knew that, so his next plan of action was to search the kitchen. You were terrible for drinking sodas all throughout the night, which might’ve explained why you were always making trips to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t even make it into the kitchen before he saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, curled up into a fetal position and emitting tiny snores every few seconds.

He cracked a smile at the sight, but then went to roll his eyes at you.

“Baby,” he whispered, crouching down beside of you to gently shake you awake, “come on, come back to bed.”

The sound of your husband’s sleepy voice pulled you out of your state of unconsciousness, “What time is it?”

“A little past seven.” His hand reached forward to lightly stroke at your frizzed up hair, and you couldn’t help but to lean into his sweet touch.

“But you said you didn’t want me up there.”

“Uhm, no I did not.” Yoongi was quick to be defensive, “I said for you not to get out of bed again, were my exact words. I didn’t mean for you to come down here to sleep.”

“Well, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” Even in your half asleep state, you couldn’t help but to argue.

If he didn’t love you so much, he probably would’ve let you have your way. Let you sulk and pout on the couch while he slept soundly upstairs, but he couldn’t do that.

“Dude, you’re so dramatic.” He sighed, scooping your limp body up and into his arms.

You shrieked as he did so, your eyes springing open immediately.

“Yoongs! What are you doing?”

“Taking your ass back to bed where you belong.” He began his ascend with you up the staircase, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Can you take me to the bathroom first? I have to pee.”

“Of course you do.”

April 18th, 2020. 2:53pm.

Lazy Saturdays with Yoongi were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were your favorite.

There were plenty of chores that needed to be done, plenty of projects outside that needed to be started, and yet the two of you had been planted on the sofa since you’d woken up.

You were lying down with your legs in Yoongi’s lap, watching the cooking channel. And he had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table thumbing through a nonfiction novel. The sunshine poured through the narrow window panes, the scent of the coffee you’d brewed earlier still lingering. Holly was lounging on his bed beside of the fireplace on his back, snoozing with his paws in the air.

“He looks comfortable.” You nodded your head in Holly’s direction, causing Yoongi to look up from his book.

He chuckled lowly, “He’s got it made. He lives in this big house with no responsibilities. All he does is eat and sleep.”

“I mean,” you started, “that’s all I do too, really.”

Yoongi nodded, tapping his fingertips against your kneecap.

“And as long as I can help it, that’s all you’ll have to do. You took care of me for so long, it’s my turn.”

“You spoil me, Min Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop the smile that cracked its way onto your face.

At the minute, you were enrolled in university and only had another year or so before you’d be graduating. You had every intention of working once you were out of school, but you couldn’t lie, it was nice to know that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to. You’d been with Yoongi for so long— since before his debut with BTS.

He’d always promised you that one day he’d be able to provide for you fully, and now, he was doing that tenfold. The two of you were well off now, but in the end, that didn’t really matter. He could be a billionaire, or have one penny to call his own, and you’d still love him all the same.

“Yes, I do spoil you. And I intend to keep doing so, Min Y/n.” He’d abandoned his book, letting it lie on the armrest beside of him.

He lifted one of your legs, pressing tiny pecks against the skin of your calf muscle. You giggled at the tickling feeling, your laughter coming to a quick halt as insecurity suddenly took over. Jerking your leg from his grasp, Yoongi cocked a dark brow at the action.

“I haven’t shaved in like, a month, Yoongs.”

“Are you kidding me?” his eyes rolled and he reached for your leg again, “you know I don’t care about that shit.”

“Yeah, I know. But I do.” You frowned.

“Too bad.” He changed his position so that he was lying in between your legs now, his lips trailing from your knee to the top of your thigh.

“What are you doing?” You bit down on your lower lip to take it in between your teeth, your fingers instinctively curling into your husband’s dark strands of hair.

“Showing you how much I don’t give a shit about some damn leg hair.”

He sucked a purple bruise into your skin, and you couldn’t fight back the moan that left your lips.

Yoongi was quick to push your shorts to the side, his tongue dragging along the folds of your cunt over your cotton panties. The feeling of his teasing had you whimpering, and you were begging for him to give you more— to which he happily complied.

April 30th, 2020. 10:19am.

In theory, Yoongi having a week off from work should be amazing. Your time spent together should be filled with romance, sex, home cooked meals and stereotypical couple shit. Most importantly, the two of you should be over the moon that you were getting such quality time together. And you were... mostly.

But he’d been home for five days already, and you were silently wishing he’d visit the studio at least once— and he was silently wishing you’d take a night to go out with friends. You weren’t used to being in each other’s company for long, thanks to what your husband did for a living, so whenever he had more than a few days home at a time it was always an adjustment.

Yoongi had only been awake for a total of five minutes and you’d already found a way to annoy him, without him having to even lay eyes on you.

He was at the sink, about to brush his teeth when he noticed the cap sitting beside of the toothpaste. He was sure that one day, he would roll his eyes at you so hard that they’d get stuck in the back of his head.

With a huff, he deposited a decent amount of the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and ran water over it before putting it into his mouth. You walked into the bathroom then, your eyes half open as you made your way over to the toilet to pee. Ah, romance at its finest.

“Dude,” Yoongi said, spitting into the sink after he was finished brushing, “why don’t you put the cap back onto the tube of toothpaste?”

You scowled, thinking that he should know damn well you didn’t like to be spoken to before you’d had your caffeine.

“I’ll do that when you start rinsing the sink out and quit leaving your nasty spit in it!”

“My nasty spit?” he scoffed, “I’m sorry who was the one begging me to, and I quote, spit in your mouth, two days ago?”

“Bite me, Min Yoongi.”

You flushed the toilet and bumped his hip with your own to push him out of the way, rubbing soap onto your hands and washing them. It was going to be a long day.

By noon, you were ready to fully divorce him and kick him out of the house.

“Yoongi!” You yelled, standing by the laundry basket in your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest.

His feet carried him swiftly up the stairs as he feared something was wrong, stopping abruptly in his tracks when he saw the way you were staring daggers through him.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “what did I do now?”

You pointed harshly at the pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper, causing the taller man to internally groan at the lecture he knew was coming.

“Two more inches and the clothes would be in the basket. What is so hard about that? Do you live to piss me off? Is that what it is?” You scolded, barely taking a breath between your sentences.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “my only goal in life.”

You were fuming. How could he be such an ass? Throwing your hands up, you moved past him and out of the bedroom.

“Pick them up, or we’re getting a divorce.”

He chuckled, “Whatever you say.”

“Ever heard the term ‘happy wife, happy life?’”

He took short strides forward over to the clothes he’d previously discarded and picked them up, “Nope.”

“Well then,” you watched as he tossed the clothes into their rightful place of the laundry hamper, “I suggest you get familiar with it.”

By the time dinner was over, you’d made promises to take him to divorce court the very next day. He’d placed a single dirty spoon into a sink empty of dishes, and you suddenly understood why so many wives offed their husbands.

May 9th, 2020. 11:05am.

You were late— so fucking late, and you prayed that your mother wouldn’t completely disown you. The two of you’d made plans to meet up for breakfast at 10:30, but you’d just now gotten into the shower. She would never let you live this down. You were always late for everything though, so really, what did she expect?

Washing your hair would’ve taken up too much time, so you’d opted for a quick, ten minute shower and decided that a messy bun would do for the day. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the glass door of the shower rattle, alerting you to your husbands newfound presence.

“Morning.” His arms wrapped tightly around your waist from behind, and he began to press light kisses to the side of your neck.

You smiled at the feeling, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access.

“Good morning.” You rinsed off your face wash, carefully avoiding your hair and trying your hardest not to get it wet.

Yoongi’s hands found your hips as he pressed his half hardened length against your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling.

“Yoongs, I have to go soon. No funny business. I’m already late.” You tried to protest, but the feeling of his hand traveling down to spread your legs made you whine.

“So? You’re always late. Let me give you a good reason to be, at least.”

His teeth nibbled on your earlobe, all the while his pointer and middle finger had begun to circle over your clit.

Your head dropped back into the crook of his neck at the feeling, and you groaned.

“Fine, fine. But no foreplay, as much as it pains me to say that. Make me cum, then I gotta go.”

“Damn,” he laughed, “you really know how to seduce a guy, you know that?”

“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but to giggle in response, your lips finding his for just a quick second before he had you bent over in front of him.

“If your mom asks, just tell her we were practicing to give her grandchildren.”

The loud smack of his hand coming down against the bare skin of your ass echoed in the room, and you groaned— both because of the stinging sensation his hand caused, and because of his words. Leave it to your husband to say stupid shit like that before he was about to rail you.

Your breakfast date with your mom turned into brunch, and a very uncomfortable one at that. Yoongi had been ruthless with spanking you, and you were now sporting sore spots and welts that made it difficult to sit.

Even though your mom kept asking why you couldn’t seem to sit still and was constantly scolding you for being late, you decided that it was so fucking worth it.

May 20th, 2020. 8:45pm.

It wasn’t even nine and you and Yoongi were already in bed. He was scrolling on his phone beside of you, and you were watching makeup tutorials on the television hung in front of your bed.

You yawned, shifting your attention to your husband and knocking his phone out of his hand, just for the hell of it.

“What the fuck was that for?!” He sounded surprised, and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, gently kicking his leg with your foot.

“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing now?” He stared over at you, his lips curving into a wry smirk.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby doll.”

He was on top of you in an instant, straddling your legs as he tickled you. You erupted into an immediate series of giggles, your body squirming underneath him.

“Yoongi!” You squealed, attempting to push his hands away, but it was no use— he had you pinned and completely at his mercy.

“Bet you regret annoying me now, huh?” He asked, his own laughter bellowing out.

“Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! You can stop!” You were nearly out of breath from how hard you were laughing, and Yoongi was sure you’d never looked more stunning.

Your hair was wet from the shower you’d just taken, no makeup on, and you were wearing that damn tattered, worn out T-shirt that you loved so much. You were the very definition of beauty to him, the sight of your toothy smile and sound of your loud laughter only making that fact more and more evident to him.

His tickle assault on your body ceased, and the two of you attempted to catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you, you know that?” Yoongi’s position had changed, and he was now hovering over you and pressing his lips to your jawline.

“I know. And I love you.” You reveled in the feeling, enjoying the familiar comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Let me show you how much.”

Before you could protest (not that you actually would), he was making his way down south. He’d bunched your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. He was practically salivating at the sight of your bare chest. You’d been married for so long, and he’d seen you naked more times than he could count, and the sight of your body still amazed him every time.

He pulled a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Your fingers carded into his hair, your back arching up and off of the mattress as you pressed into him.

“Yoongs,” you sighed, marveling in the feeling of him palming your other tit with his hand.

He always took his time when it came to your chest, and he always made sure they were bruised and reddened by the time he was done with them. And you had zero complaints with that fact.

After he’d abused your pebbled buds to his satisfaction, he moved to leave a line of wet kisses down your stomach.

When his lips came into contact with cotton fabric just above your belly button, he pulled back with a confused expression adorning his features.

“Granny panties? Really?” He chuckled, pulling at the hem of them and letting it snap against your skin.

You yelped, batting his hand away.

“Shut up, they’re comfortable.”

“I never thought granny panties could look so sexy.” He wiggled his brows, and you rolled your eyes.

“Gotta say, though,” he said, pulling them down your legs, “I think they’d look sexier on the floor.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You laughed, kicking your underwear off of your feet.

“Maybe,” he grinned, his lips quickly finding their way to the insides of your thighs, “but you love me.”

“More than you could ever know, Yoongs,” you smiled, suddenly very aware that the most amazing man in the world was yours, and yours alone, “‘more than you could ever know.”

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

#bts #bts smut #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #seokjin #namjoon #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

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bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years ago

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Sam Wescott NSFW Alphabet.

Sooo after doing Buddy Swanson alphabet of course I had to do one for Sam. Similar to Buddy I consider myself the Sam Wescott expert, again I started his tag on Ao3 and have written him the most so far so fucking here we are! I love him, the sweetest and softest slasher I am into, here we go!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The best word I have to describe Sam Wescott is concerned. He is so concerned about you and your comfort, always. He will do anything you need on your come down. He would run a bath, would get you anything you wanted to eat, change the sheets if you so requested, he doesn't want you to do anything, he's got it under control and he would INSIST. Seriously you want something just name it and it is happening. Would love to have a shower with you post sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands for sure, no doubt about it. So much experience working outdoors, very skilled with them, rough and well worked, he isn’t the most confident guy but when it comes to his hands he is. They make him feel capable. Loves to touch you, run his hands over you, loves to feel you up with them and let’s be real the man is great at fingering.

Now for you he loves your lips, man is WEAK for kissing, will sometimes find himself staring at them while talking with you, loves the taste of you, just cannot get enough of kissing you or of you kissing him well basically anywhere. The sweet things you can say with them and listen he can’t help it if he is obsessed with how they look and feel wrapped around his cock.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay so I totally have this idea that a big unexpected fave of his that he never anticipated liking so much until it happened is having you make a mess of him. Like blow and jerk him off and make him cum on his own stomach and then lick it up and then his refractory period is basically non-existent.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay so one of the hottest things or ideas to him is you forgoing underwear in public and letting him know in some way that you have. Whether taking his hand and letting him feel or maybe a racy picture sent or flashing him with no one around at that moment and holy shit he is achingly hard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

More than you would think! For a guy who seems so nervous and unassuming you’d think he wouldn’t have much experience but Sam has been around a bit. Much more down for a casual hook-up than you would think. Typically parties and get together where he has had some drinks to help settle some of those nerves. But more importantly he is so enthusiastic and willing to please.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You on top. He loves it so much, to have you over him, being able to feel you up and help pull you down onto him, he loves you being able to take it at your own pace and use him however you want to find your release. Totally in awe of you riding him, put your hands on his chest as you do, lean down and kiss him or whisper things to him and fuck he won’t be able to hold back from bucking up into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh the boy can do both, when he gets all flustered he is much more prone to laughing and making some jokes, but take my word for it, Sam can be so insanely sensual, surprisingly can be great at maintaining the mood. Doesn’t take himself too seriously thankfully.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah totally matches, light and soft curls, doesn’t let it grow out much, trims it semi often, has never shaved and certainly never waxed and has no intention of it. Might try shaving it if you wanted him to but he wouldn’t do it unprompted. Overall great personal hygiene.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ugh romance thy name is Sam Wescott. Like hot damn he can be the most romantic fucker you have ever come across. It is ridiculous. Would touch you with such care and reverence and would say some of the sweetest things. Wouldn’t be every time but you’d never, ever have to ask for romance from Sam.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Totally think that he has a hard time keeping quiet when he does. He just gets so into it. Also totally uses lube, like not lotion, nice lube, totally amps it up for him and I also think he edges himself, not super hard but a few soft edges he’s learned can make his eventual orgasm so much better. Legit just picture poor Sam, one hand over his mouth, eyes shut tight, moaning into his palm as his other hand is slick with lube, fisting his cock, already edged a few times and getting so close he can’t stop the sounds from spilling out? Hot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Has a few kinks, not all but have some of the biggest.

PRAISE! This man has the biggest fucking praise kink around, both ways. Loves to talk you up so much. Please praise him, tell him what is working and what feels good, nothing gets to him more than you encouraging him vocally.

Body worship. Sam will literally worship every fucking sqaure inch of your body, hands and mouth working in tandem, just positively everywhere until you are a complete puddle. Getting you off gets him off hard.

Denial. Can’t help it, delayed gratification, and you teasing him, frustrating him, gets to him badly, makes him unbelievably hard, and after some good edging he is a total flustered mess and is leaking massive amounts of pre-cum. Is a bit embarrassed he is so into it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Outdoors! Not like he is a huge exhibtioinist just loves being outside, some of his favorite things have happened outside. I headcanon there is this hill at Camp Clear Vista that Sam likes to sit on, can see most of the camp from there, loves to sit there and clear his head, it’s his favorite place. Late at night under the stars, just being out at camp in general, in a tent or a cabin, the forest. Also totally a fan of shower sex.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You wanting him. Showing clear desire and intent, especially if it is some place that you can’t right away. Like you whispering something dirty to him, or feeling him up, a particular look. Oof. He really wants to be wanted and desired so that gets him going like nothing else. Like you being almost desperate for him is perfection. The idea of you clinging to him, tugging on his clothes and almost grinding on him, begging him to just touch you let alone fuck you? He is on you so fast.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. Like I could not see him having it in him, does not have the heart to engage in extreme degradation. A casual flippant comment in the heat of the moment during a rougher session? Maybe. But you aren’t gonna have him doing some hardcore degrading, sorry he just isn’t that guy. Also any hard pain play either. Making you cry because it feels so good? Yes. Crying from pain? Hard no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh my fucking God! So don’t ask me how or why this got started but this is my strongest held Sam headcanon. I believe that Sam Wescott is GOD-TIER at giving oral. Eating pussy or sucking dick he is too fucking good and why? How?! Not sure. He just is. Maybe it is him being so enthusiastic and willing to please but he is. I think that is what he has the most experience in. Man will stay down there all night for real if that is what you want. Also turns him on a lot, can totally catch him not so subtly grinding against the bed or palming himself while doing it. Has totally just gone down on you and jerked himself off more than once.

So much bigger giver than a receiver, but still loves, loves, loves when you give. Total mess when you do it, barely knows what to do with himself, totally lets you take the lead on that, he is big and knows it but will appreciate however much you try and take. Won’t say it but loves when you gag on it, doesn’t have to say it because it is obvious he loves it from the way his thighs tense and the strained sounds that leave him as he tries to resist fucking into your mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual for fucking sure. Can go faster, a more steady pace but still doesn’t jump to being rough. Work him up enough and beg for it and you can totally get that from him. Can totally get caught up in the heat of the moment and really fuck you. Again a decent mix but typically slower and more sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Usually likes a mid-length session, loves a longer one and is down for quickies but they aren’t his favorite. Most of his interests and kinks lend themselves better to longer sessions. Quickies are great after a healthy and hearty amount of teasing, you tease him for a few hours where he can’t do anything about it when you do get alone it isn’t gonna last super long, he won’t be able to hold himself back.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Again name of the game for Sam is pleasing you so he is totally down to try what you want, open to experiment and risk for you but isn’t gonna suggest it super openly. He does have some spicier interests and leanings but would be worried about opening up about them at the start, it takes a while for him to get comfortable with that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depends on how much work you put in beforehand, how much foreplay and how in need he is, how long it has been since you last were together. Can go for three or four with little issue but can be satisfied with just one. The man is fit, young and healthy, what else do you expect?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Does not own a single toy himself, but would be down to use some with you! I could see his favorite being a bullet vibe, something small yet powerful and precise and using it to great effect on you. Also even though he wouldn’t readily admit it, if you are into it and get into it he could be down with using a paddle.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oooo he likes it a little too much. Typically loves and prefers to be on the receiving end of it but loves to return it. Once he figures out just what gets to you he will use it to his advantage. Likes to see you being flustered in public as opposed to him for once, loves to get you to the point of begging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yes dear God, part of why a semi-public hook up is extra risky with him is because he has the hardest time shutting himself up. Again loves to praise and be praised, can’t help saying such sweet things to you, moaning, cursing, grunts of effort just on and on, like damn Sam can you calm down for like a sec? Cover his mouth or gag him for crying out loud, or don’t because he sounds amazing. Will still try to talk when close or cumming but it just ends up breaking apart with his moans. So good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Oh okay so this is a fun one. I totally think his ears and neck are weirdly sensitive. You wanna see him flushed and flustered as hell and unable to stop himself from grinding against you mid-make out? That is the best way to get it to happen! The thought of it though, you initiate like that. He is sitting at the couch and you come up behind him, wrap your arms around his neck and lean in close, lips brush the shell of his ear and you whisper to him, “Hey Sammy. You busy?” and then you start to kiss his neck and he tenses so quickly. Let your hands start to roam, reach down and palm him through his jeans and ask, “Well?” and feel him up and his eyes would flutter closed and he would arch up into you, a shaky exhale and a laugh as he says “No-I uh, I’m not busy at all.”

And then it is on.

Also he is bi, it took him a long time to accept that about himself and get comfortable with it but he gets there eventually.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oof so from all the working outside and general working out he is firm, cut, very fucking strong, the view with his shirt off is so good. Okay so for his dick, man is packing heat. I am talking eight point five to nine inches, you wouldn’t guess by looking at him. Totally not the type to brag about it and is aware extra foreplay and prep is usually needed but he loves that so it is all good. Average thickness, circumsized, pretty full balls, a good handful, you know? The sheer amount of pre-cum this man can produce is impressive, actual loads fairly regular, little thin, slightly above average amount, he has a great diet and tastes good.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Down for nearly every single day, fine with around three times a week because the sessions are longer. Would love to wake you up with oral, no better way to start his day, loves a good morning session while you are still in bed together, also quite the fan of some afternoon delight. Can be quite insatiable when prompted right and that side is pulled out of him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Boy he makes sure you are all good but after a really, really long session the boy does get sleepy. Him checking in and making sure you are all good and don’t need anything even with his eyes slipping closed and voice all tired, adorable, endearing, loves to curl up with you to sleep. He can spoon you but loves to be the little spoon, is anyone surprised?

#Sam Wescott #You Might Be The Killer 2018 #BHF writing #I love him so much #Hope you all dig this!#Had a lotta fun with it!#I was thinking about this and him all day today

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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

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If you're still taking requests!! Fake Dating situation where Newt and Hermann go to a public event together. they're used to being mistaken for a couple at the Shatterdome, so they expect to be mistaken for a couple at the event. But then they meet someone who definitely Does Not mistake them for a couple (because homophobia) and assumes they're just Very Good Friends. cue Newt and Hermann aggressively pretending to be a couple.

always and forever taking requests!!! this is such a fun one, THANK YOU

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“We’ll have to go in eventually,” Newt says.

Next to him, Hermann silently fumes, apparently unable to decide whether to continue tugging at his stiff collar or grinding the bottom of his cane—over and over, in a sort of circle—against the sidewalk, leaving streaks of black rubber behind. “I hate these damn things,” he says under his breath, though it’s unclear whether he means his outfit or the event. Hermann’s dressed up tonight in a suit that’s hilariously oversized (even for him) and fraying in places, with a bowtie that he’s knotted crookedly. Newt wonders if the suit’s a hand-me-down from his brother. “Begging for funding, as if we haven’t anything better to do with our time. As if we’re not working for the better of all of them. It’s bloody degrading.” He works his jaw angrily. “And if that isn’t enough—everyone always makes—assumptions—about us.”

Oh, okay. The event. “Assumptions?” Newt says.

Hermann lets out a hiss of air between his teeth. “Assumptions,” he repeats, delicately. “About—ah—the certain nature of our relationship.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Oh.”

At the last one of these things they went to, someone (actually generous enough to open their checkbook for once) asked Hermann whether they should make it out to the PPDC or Dr. Gottlieb and his husband. At the one before that, a dinner event, the name placards at their table said Dr. Newton Geiszler-Gottlieb and Dr. Hermann Geiszler-Gottlieb. Before that, at a more casual affair at an up-scale bar, some tech hottie sent Newt a martini, before hurrying over and apologizing in person that (gesturing between Newt and Hermann) he didn’t realize Newt was with someone. Newt really wishes Hermann would just get it through his head already that introducing someone as your partner and dropping the important research part of it tends to hold drastically different connotations outside of, like, the group of people who know them on the Shatterdome base, because that would clear up probably sixty percent of the confusion. If not just so he can pick up a few numbers at these things for once. Still, though—for some reason it’s never really bothered him like it clearly bothers Hermann, but Newt supposes he’s not exactly a catch by any standards, so it makes sense. “I just don’t know where they get the impression—” Hermann begins, and Newt interrupts him.

“Yeah, well, you should take it as a compliment,” he says. “You could do a lot worse than me.” He opens the door for Hermann and ushers him in. “Seriously, we’ll be late if we don’t go in now, and that makes it, like, twice as awkward.”

As usual, they have to sit through some incredibly boring speech about how they’re sitting among some of the best scientific minds of the century right now, how they’re honored to play host to their colleagues at the PPDC, how the buffet will opening shortly for dinner, and then a different person gets up and makes another speech, and then another person with another, until finally the first person gets back up and promises that closing remarks will be in three hours, and how they should all enjoy themselves until then. Claps. Under his breath, Newt says to Hermann, “Doubt it.”

“Which side shall I take, then?” Hermann sighs. He’s probably the only one in the room not clapping. He told Newt a while ago that he doesn’t like to put on airs, and especially not in the service of flattering someone’s ego, and he’ll only clap for a speech if he feels it deserves it. He’s such a weirdo.

Newt surveys the room, considering. Luckily, people tend to flock together in similar little groups at these things. Birds of a feather shit. “Left. Everyone on the right is too young and hip-looking, so that’s out of your range.” He gets a cane to his shin, and grins even has he winces. “Kidding. Let’s just do it together, it’ll make it more bearable.”

Their first target is a forty-something marine biologist who’s very excited to meet Newt— “I followed your research on jellyfish for years!” she says. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight!” —and who is more than happy to promise donating a little to help fund the war effort. Their next is someone younger than both of them, whom Newt suspects is heir to his dad’s tech company or something, and who is easily guilted into promising even more than the biologist. “We’re having a lot better luck than usual,” Newt says, as they watch the kid hurry away to mingle with a group of other twenty-somethings. “Do we look more, like, respectable tonight or something?”

“It’s the open bar,” Hermann says.

“Yeah, probably,” Newt agrees.

“And anyway, we’re still terribly behind on our goal, so there’s no use getting too pleased over ourselves,” Hermann says. He sniffs. “If you still want that bloody—whatever it was—kaiju spleen, we need at least—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt says.

He nods at a small group standing by one of the buffet tables, holding half-eaten plates. People tend to be in better moods when they’ve eaten something. Hopefully more generous moods too. “Let’s try them,” he says.

Hermann is the one to initiate the conversation this time, launching at once into a variation of the little script he and Newt penned so long ago the night before their very first gala. “Good evening,” he says. They get a few polite smiles and nods of acknowledgement in return. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, and this is my partner—” Newt tries not to groan. “—Dr. Newton Geiszler. We’re here representing the PPDC tonight. I don’t suppose we could have a moment of your time?”

The mood of the group changes immediately, but why Newt can’t figure out; it’s like they suddenly go hostile on them. Hostile, and tense. Newt is suddenly astutely aware of how each of the three dudes have a good few inches on both him and Hermann. “The PPDC?” the guy in front says. He's not smiling anymore. Maybe they all supported the jaeger program defunding or something. “Sure.”

“Er,” Hermann says. He clears his throat. “Newton—that is, my partner and I work for the kaiju research division at the PPDC’s Hong Kong base. As you may well be aware, the latest cuts to the PPDC’s budget have been quite dev—”

“So you and your friend,” the guy says, with a little more emphasis on the friend than Newt would like, “are going around asking for donations? To help buy pencils or something?”

“Well. Essentially,” Hermann says. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Newt did, though he grows visibly nervous anyway. Outright hostility isn't anywhere near as common as indifference at these sorts of things. “Though, pencils is—er—a vast understatement.” He casts a furtive, desperate glance at Newt—a help me if Newt ever saw one. “My partner—Dr. Geiszler—simply doesn’t have enough funding for the samples he needs to study—and donations would certainly help with our funding for other necessary supplies—"

“I sure we’d love to help you and your friend,” the same guy says, and there’s no missing the emphasis this time, “but we’re a little busy at the moment. Please come back and talk to us later, though.”

Hermann clamps his mouth shut. Newt narrows his eyes, and in a move bold enough to surprise even himself, snags Hermann’s arm and links his own with it. “Sure thing,” he says loudly. Hermann goes rigid and stiff under him. “Come on, babe, let’s get something to eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry.” Then, before he can stop himself, he brushes a single kiss at Hermann’s cheek, and tries not to laugh at the looks they get.

He waits until they’re out of eyesight (Newt having had to sort of drag Hermann along with him) to drop Hermann’s arm. Hermann hasn’t moved a muscle since Newt touched him, and even now, he just sort of blinks at Newt. “What on Earth—?”

“Dude,” Newt says. “That guy was a total jerk. He thought we were together, and—”

“He did not,” Hermann says. “He kept calling you my ‘friend’. It was a bloody nice break from what usually happens, I might add, and now you’ve gone and—”

“Hermann,” Newt says. He sighs. “You’re, like, totally missing my point. He thought we were together.”

“But he called you—”

“Yeah, exactly,” Newt says.

Hermann blinks a few more times. “Ah,” he says.

“No way in hell do we need his money,” Newt says. “Anyway, sorry about the—” He touches Hermann’s cheek, and then gestures to Hermann’s left arm, which is now just sort of hanging limply at Hermann’s side. “I just wanted to screw with him. I won’t do it again, though—”

“No!” Hermann says quickly. The tips of his ears go red, and he fumbles as he grabs Newt’s arm again. A sudden warmth situates itself like pressure over Newt’s chest, identical to the kind that’s creeping up his wrist where Hermann’s fingers just grazed his bare skin, and he’s struck with the sudden bizarre urge to duck his head and blush himself. Since when has Hermann had this kind of effect on him? “What I meant to say is—” Hermann licks his wide lips. “He might still see us. We ought to—to keep up the ruse.”

“To really screw with him?” Newt says.

“For what other reason?” Hermann says.

Newt forces himself to keep a smooth, neutral expression as Hermann unwinds his arm to lace their fingers together instead, with a lot more awkward fumbling. “Uh-huh,” he says. He remembers how soft and smooth Hermann’s cheek had felt, so unlike his own, which can never seem to hold a clean shave. How nice Hermann's hand feels in his now. He’s definitely going to have to unpack this later. “Yeah, that’s—good idea, Hermann. Let’s do that.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Hermann's POV in this fic is just newt touching his hand - REALIZATION #Anonymous

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blue-bird-kny · 4 years ago

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Physical Affection: Prompt 16 Kissing Knuckles

You all have spoken and here he is! Finally some Genya on this blog, I hope I did him justice~Amanda

Warning: Swears, Angsty and Fluffy kinda shit, Spoiler Warning!

( 1.2K words)

No matter how much time passed, Genya still was a little hesitant around you, hiding himself away in his training far from where you could find him. Not because he didn’t trust you, there wasn’t a living human he felt more comfortable with, but because he hated watching you worry. Only once had you trained with him (after a lot of begging) and it didn’t go well. He hated how your pained eyes watched as his spent body pushed itself past a point that even he knew was dangerous, watched the anguish he was causing you. That was the only time you’d ever fought so intensely with one another, a screaming match lasted for more than just a that night and had the potential to end your relationship had you not loved each other so much- it was definitely a rough patch to get through. You couldn’t understand why he sacrificed so much of himself, why he couldn’t just be a little selfish so as to rest. Genya couldn’t allow himself to stop though, not for his sake or for yours; he’d do anything for you, including protecting you with his life and that required him to be strong. Now, after he disappears without a word before you wake and returns sweaty and exhausted, all you say is “How was training?” receiving only a curt nod as a reply every time.

You wandered the corridors all afternoon, peaking your head into random rooms from time to time in search of a certain Shinazugawa. You knew Genya had training this morning, but it was almost sunset and still you hadn’t seen him. “Where the hell are you?” your thoughts swirled with a mix of frustration and panic, he was never out this late and at the very least he’d have eaten lunch with you and the others. Consumed by the scenarios playing in your head, you ran flat against a hard pillar that towered over you- the pillar being your dear brother-in-law. “Ah Sanemi! I’m so sorry!” you apologized, quickly bowing over and over again. Genya may not voice it, but you know how much his brother means to him and because of this, you’ve always tried to gain his approval or any sliver of acceptance from the Hashira. Yet as you stare up at his menacing glare, you are reminded that Sanemi was an even harder wall to crack than his younger brother.

“Oi! Stop apologizing, brat! It's obnoxious” he complained, halting your movement. “What’s got you in such a hurry anyways, need to take piss or something?” he scowled as his large amrs folded in front of his chest, “No actually I was looking for Genya...have you seen him?” you doubted he actually knew but you were desperate at this point. “That brat? Yea I heard he’s been holed up the training room at the other end of the estate” his response was nonchalant but it was music to your ears. “Thank you!” you moved to rush over when Sanemi’s palm gripped the top of your skull. “Wait a second! Shit it’s not like he’s dying” he grumbled with a solid, painless grip on your hair. ‘Go easy on the kid, he...he needs you around. You’re all he really has.” his eyes never reached yours but the slight pink on his cheeks brought a smile to your lips. “Don’t get the wrong idea though, if you ever tell him I said that I’ll carve your tongue out, damn it!” he wiggled you around like a rag doll before releasing your tresses, leaving without another word. “What a softy”

Loud grunts from the other side of the wooden doors filled your ears as you reached the room, your arms immediately reaching to slide them open. Your orbs widened as they fell on Genya, fist bloody and purple, wreaking havoc upon a wooden dummy and, if the mess is anything to judge by, it wasn’t the first one he’d hit. A booming crack rang throughout the room as wooden shreds scattered about, falling like wooden flakes. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Genya reaching for another dummy, “Genya stop!” you yelled, throwing yourself between him and the dummy, his fist halting centimeters from pummeling your face. “No one called you here shitty women '' he protested without lowering his arm, his gaze boring into your eyes. “What the hell are you doing?! Genya I get you want to work hard and I can’t change that, but you’re hurting yourself! This isn’t healthy” you pleaded, “please just listen to me” you held his fist, not carrying that his blood was staining the clothes you wore. “I don’t fucking get it” he started sourly, allowing you to hold his hands, “no matter what I fucking do, how hard I train, I still can’t compare to those jackasses with their breathing techniques. Compared to them I look like a weak idiot” he seethed. You lifted his chin speaking softly, “Genya you don’t have to be like them to be strong, you’re the only person who can do what you can. I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side protecting me because I believe in you Genya, one hundred percent I believe in you with everything I have”

You were quick to catch the stray tear that fell down his cheek, “This sucks” he chokes, “Sometimes life feels like it does, but things always get better”. “Lets go get those hands bandaged and you in a bath, you smell” the fingers pinching your nose distorted your voice a little, but it was enough to make Genya blush, “Shut up!”

The steam rolled off the water filling the room in its delicious warmth, “You should get in while the water is still hot” you urged grabbing the shampoo and a fluffy towel, placing them at the edge of the bath. Genya watched you expectantly as if waiting for you to do something, “What?” you questioned. Genya’s cheeks blazed red, his eyes not reaching yours as he stuttered, “Turn around if you want me to get into the water, dumbass”. You stared for a moment before turning around, “But I’ve seen you naked more than once” you laughed. Some seconds passed before you heard the plop of Genya’s body submerging itself into the warm water, “Done” he gurgled from underneath. “I’m not a kid Y/n, I can bathe myself” he squirmed as you squeezed the bottle of shampoo into your palm, “Yea but everyone should be spoiled every once in a while”. You took your time scrubbing his dark curls and rubbing the soap into the shaved sides, the slight brush of your nails over his scalp had Genya almost moaning in content. A warm silence took over the atmosphere, only the splash of water could be heard as you rinsed the suds from his skin and scalp.

“Let me see them” you whispered cooly, disrupting the still air. Genya’s heavy lids fluttered open to find you now next to the tub, the medical kit open on your lap. Shyly, Genya placed his abused fist in your care, wincing every so often when you dabbed the scabs with antiseptic. “You don’t have to tell me everything all the time,” you started, peppering soothing kisses to each freshly bandaged knuckle, “but I’ll be right here” you cupped his calloused palms with your own, offering a gentle smile and kind eyes as if saying “I love you”.

You waited patiently in bed for Genya to finish and dress, cozy in your own pair of fleece pajamas. You felt someone slither in beside you, cautiously pulling you against their chest. Limbs tangled together, you both fell into a peaceful sleep, lulled away by Genya’s unwavering heartbeat and your even breathing.

Main Masterlist

#genya x reader #genya shinazugawa #genya fluff #genya angst #kny genya #kny xreader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #kny x you

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junmyeonning · 4 years ago

Text

Movie Night

Type: one shot

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (EXO Suho) X Unnamed OFC

Rated: M

Summary: a regular movie night turns into something else when she feels a bit more frustrated than usual.

Word count: 2.4k

Request by: @keichocolate 💓 thank you! Sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind but it’s what i came up with:)

(A/N): honestly this is so smut centred, not everyone’s cup of tea i get it. But you’ve been warned.

She fidgets in her seat as she waits for him to arrive, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.

Why, one might ask? Simple.

As close friends they share their problems all the time, and this time is no different. She was venting to him over text about how stressful these days have been for her, work issues etc. And that's when he suggested he comes over and lightens the mood a little. Watch some movie, enjoy eacb other's company.

But now she's rethinking her choices, not sure if she wants to be even near him at this time. Truth is her stress is making her want some type of... release. Let go some of the pent up tension. Him being there would just mean that she'd be more frustrated.

She feels bad about feeling this way towards her friend, especially since he's so damn nice and sweet to her. He has never showed any interest though so she assumes he's not into her that way.

Unfortunately that's not the case with her. She's so freaking into him it drives her crazy sometimes. Whatever, She thinks. She ignores these feelings and gets up as soon as she hears the doorbell.

"Ah hey," he greets her with a big grin and comes in to hug her. She relaxes into his strong arms as they wrap around her, taking in his scent that she suddenly feels like she's missed too much.

"You okay there?" He steps back and looks at her with a comforting smile, to which she smiles back at his sweetness and nods.

"Now that you're here, i'm getting there." She flirts jokingly, making him crack up and shake his head as he looks away. Yep, surely not interested.

A few minutes later they're already settled on the couch, with all their favourite snacks ready in front of them. She starts the movie and sits down next to him, but he looks at her and pats his lap.

"Relax, stretch your legs." She's hesitant but she complies. They've done this quite a few times before, this one's no different... right? or at least that's what she tries to convince herself.

She pulls her legs up over his lap, now aware of how extremely close their bodies are as he rests his hand on her exposed leg. She thanks the lord that they're clean shaved.

They're very comfortable while getting into the movie, snacking every now and then and reacting to certain parts of it. But of course, just as she started to slightly forget about her little pulsing down there, his hand that was resting starts to move a little.

"Is this okay?" He says gently, while softly rubbing her legs and calves to relief some of the tight muscles. She gulps silently and musters up a casual 'yeah', giving him the green light.

She suddenly finds herself unable to focus on the movie with how his hands feel on her skin, moving along her leg and massaging tenderly. His hands are a perfect medium, not soft but not too rough.

She hums in satisfaction, adjusting herself a little closer to him. He doesn't take his eyes off the movie, but he continues what he's doing with his hands. She starts feeling hotter by the minute, her core throbbing with need while wishing these hands were somewhere else. Higher and higher...

She realises that it's not her imagination and his hand is actually moving higher onto her thigh, making her squirm slightly under his touch. She doesn't know where he's going with this, but she's way too turned on to care if this what he has in mind or not.

"More..." she says, almost begging him with her needy tone. He's a bit surprised but he catches on, now rubbing the outer part of her thigh. She leans her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes, letting out a breath.

"More as in...?" He asks carefully.

"More as in touch me more please." She doesn't know what comes over her as she spreads her legs just a little, risking it all at this point. If that's not what he had in mind then he can stop, she knows it. But what he does next is the exact opposite.

"Hmm," his hand suddenly makes contact with her from behind her cotton shorts, making her gasp. "Here ?"

She moans softly and bucks up a little into his touch, his fingers stroking over her in the process. She is already very wet and she's sure that he can feel her pussy heat.

He starts to get hard seeing how responsive she is to him, she's so turned on and he hasn't even started. He rubs her a little more and she's practically whimpering at this point.

"You should've told me that this is what you need help with." He says huskily, licking his lips and looking down at her with lust blown eyes, which look very different from his usual sweet innocent looking ones.

"Hmm you're k-kidding me?" She chuckles, barely letting out the words as she feels dizzy with the way his fingers are rubbing her just right. "...we're friends."

"So friends can't help each other out?" He replies back, then decides to slip his fingers inside her shorts but still behind her underwear. She moans as she feels herself approaching her orgasm. Just the idea of him touching her is a huge turn on by itself, let alone the physical stimulation he's providing.

"You're close, right baby? Can you cum like this?" He whispers by her ear, making her rock with his fingers as she gets way too hot with his words. She just nods weakly and her mouth drops open, an orgasm washing over her while he takes his time to kiss the spot by her ear.

She regains her breath, dumbfounded with how he made her cum in her panties. He's still kissing her neck with those soft lips of his, and she thinks to herself that she's not nearly done with him.

She almost forcefully grabs his face in her hands away from her neck, looking directly at him and biting her lip as she watches the intense stare he's giving her. She goes in for a passionate kiss, finally tasting his mouth for the first time, and it's even better than what she imagined.

She moans into his lips and positions herself better on top of him, now grinding down slowly onto his covered erection. She almost can't believe that this is reality, after lusting for him in her mind for so long, she's now on top of him feeling his clothed cock under her. Getting hard for her.

She starts kissing down his jaw then his neck, sucking and biting here and there. He lets out a little moan which makes her even more eager, pressing herself down harder.

"I need you Myeon, c'mon baby just fuck me please." She can't help how desperate she sounds, but she has never felt she craved someone as much as she does him now. She had a taste, and now she wants more. A lot more.

"Let's go to your room then," he replies, and she wonders when did his voice get so fucking deep. "How can I say no when you beg so prettily?"

He effortlessly gets up with her in his arms still, her face in his neck when she suddenly realises what he said.

"Don't get used to me begging."

"That pride of yours... even when you're like this?" He chuckles, opening her door room while she's still hanging on to him. She holds his face in her hands and smiles.

"Shut up." She kisses him deeply again, and he finally finds his way on top of the bed. He lays her down, mouths still connected, as he begins stripping off his clothes.

They stop for a few seconds to catch their breaths, and he takes it as a chance to fully pull off his shirt over his head. She watches his toned upper half in all its glory, while he's unbuckling his belt and smirking, making eye contact during it all.

"Am I gonna strip alone here or what ?" He jokes, unzipping his pants by now. She rolls her eyes playfully, getting rid of her own top. His eyes widen a little when her bare breasts suddenly appear.

"See? I'm fast." She says while pulling down her shorts and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked lying there under him. His mouth falls open a little, his movements slowing down with surprise.

"Hurry upp," she whines, helping him pull down his boxers along with his pants. Now it's her turn to be surprised, looking at his impressive length with a hint of drool from her mouth.

"Holy..." she bites her lip to suppress a moan, her hands freely running down his chest and on its way to touch his cock.

"Nope not now," he takes her hand off before it makes contact, smiling devilishly. "Lie back down for me sweetheart."

With the heat of the moment she doesn't even protest, lying back down as told. She instinctively spreads her legs for him to position himself between them, still sitting up on his knees as he grasps his hard cock in his hand.

Leaning down a little, he teases his head from her clit and down to her pussy opening, then back up in a back and forth motion. She's looking down at where he's making that friction, her breath starting to accelerate as she surprisingly feels yet another orgasm creeping up with how sensitive she is.

"Oh my god, oh my god, Junmyeon..." She's moaning his name as she throws her head back against the pillow, cumming hard yet again, this time just from his tip rubbing on her. He waits for her to get down from her high to tease her about it.

"Again? I'm not even inside you yet," he chuckles, looking at her underneath him and biting his lip. He begins stroking himself now and sighs. "You're so fucking hot."

She's still recovering, looking back at him with half closed eyes as she watches the way he's touching himself. She can't believe how turned on she still is, this time craving him inside her. She brings her knees up by the sides of her chest, now her pussy angled up towards his sitting form.

He quickly reacts and guides his head back to her opening, not waiting any longer as he now slowly enters her wet heat. They both groan in pleasure, her walls gripping him in the best way possible.

"Fuck..." that's all he's able to muster, feeling like he was about to blow his load right there. He concentrates though and starts moving slowly, bottoming out before pulling back almost all the way.

He repeats his actions, in and out with slow, deep strokes. After a little while the pace increases to sharper thrusts, skin slapping and wetness sounds audible throughout the room.

Her moans get louder with how good he's fucking her, and he enjoys seeing the blissed out look on her face from taking his cock. They go for a few minutes before changing positions, him pulling out much to her protest.

"Turn around." She obliges quickly, getting on all fours with her bottom pointed towards him. He squeezes her ass cheeks and plays around with them, but she's so frustrated she starts wiggling around closer to him so she can feel him again. He sees that and laughs a little, finding her impatience both hot, and oddly enough in this situation, kind of cute.

Before she can comment he gets back to it as he holds her hip with one hand, using the other to position himself before once again entering. The pleasure gets even more intense for the both of them, and he finds his pace once more while he holding her with both hands now, thrusting hard and fast. She can't help the noises that escape her, almost screaming in pleasure when he hits all those spots perfectly.

He moans when he looks down at the view of his cock disappearing inside her again and again, her juices coating him and dripping down around him. He feels himself approaching his own finish, but not before making her cum again, this time with him penetrating her.

"God I'm so close. You with me, baby girl?" He asks her. She's not able to form a coherent reply, so she just moans back.

"Cum for me baby. Say my name." His grip on her hips get tighter, and he fucks into her even harder. She can't take it all when she feels the pressure building up for the third time tonight, becoming more of a moaning mess under him.

"Oh, Junmyeon!" She reaches her climax, her walls contracting around him and squeezing as this one hits her the hardest. He feels himself about to burst so he pulls out, jerking himself off until spurts of his milk coat her back, groaning and continuing until the last drop.

She slumps over from her position directly onto her stomach now, feeling truly spent out and freshly well fucked. He grabs a tissue and cleans his mess from her back, then lays down beside her.

She looks at him as he regains his breath, eyes closed and glistening in sweat with a hint of glow. A sight she won't forget anytime soon.

Her hand moves on its own as she lifts a fallen strand of hair away from over his face, making him open his eyes and look at her.

"I'm sorry, is this weird ?" she pulls her hand away and smiles awkwardly, to which he laughs and shakes his head at her.

"It's not. Come here," he raises his arm enough for her to crawl into and cuddle with him.

"What are we now ?" She asks after a few moments in silence, slightly nervous with how he might answer. He pauses a little and thinks carefully.

"Are you willing for us to be more ?"

"As in, you becoming my boyfriend ?" She looks up at him with a smirk.

"Yeah, I like the sound of that." He leans in and kisses her softly, both of them smiling into it.

"Me too," she pulls back a little and murmurs. "A lot."

#exo #exo smut #suho smut #junmyeon smut #suho #junmyeon #kim junmyeon #suho one shot #kim junmyeon one shot

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justasimplesinner · 4 years ago

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hello, i just found your tumblr😊😊 i would like to ask for a scenario where Eddie from Arkham games has been working non-stop for days and his s/o starts to get jealous since his attention goes all to batman ❤ Fluff pls~🥰 (Sorry for my bad english)

this stinky gremlin i swear, i don’t know if i want to punch him or kiss him

dumb bitch Arkham!Eddie overworking himself AGAIN:

– You're doing it again, Edward. – you sighed at his hunched back, fingers skimming over some parts on the workbench near you, but he never even budged, never acknowledged your presence.

Because of him overworking and neglecting himself, his spine was starting to take shape of one of those curly questionmarks he doodled on every aviable space. It was concerning, to say the least...

– I'm disappointed. – this one struck. You knew this one struck. But if pressing on his soft spots was the only way to get his attention, you didn't have a choice.

– Disappointed? – he may have been snorting, he may have been laughing at you, but the subtle way in which his body immediately froze after you words didn't escape your trained eye. After all those years, you knew what made him tick. – Who are you to tell me you're disappointed? Do you seriously think I'd care for-...

Ah, there went the defensive mechanisms of his - denial, insults, feeding his own ego to recompensate for any moderatively hurtful comment directed at him. The whole package. Despite how he prided himself in being an enigma, he was awfully easy to read.

Looking at it, you could understand why some of your friends tried to convince you this was a toxic relationship. Who knew, maybe they were right. But you knew something they didn't - you knew Edward Nigma for all he was, all his faults and strengths, but most importantly, you knew he was but a child trapped in a man's body.

When children threw tantrums, nobody called them toxic - why should this be different? What with Edward's stunted emotional growth, he had little to no control over his feelings and their outbursts. But especially, he had little to no control over what he was saying when they happened - not to say you were never hurt by his spiteful words, but you knew better than to take them to heart.

You wouldn't be here, with him, if you did. And he knew that damn well - he knew damn well that if you didn't care for him you wouldn't put up with his bullshit, and yet, despite how grateful he really was, you never seemed to get the recognition you truly deserve.

Not from him, at least - his henchmen, though... that was a whole different story. There was a reason most of them called you "Mom" behind Edward's back.

– You promised. – maybe it was just as childish of you to cut in with this as it was for him to make a scene over nothing, but if you let him go on, you'd be sitting here for another hour or so.

– In the first place, you shouldn't believe in promises. The world is full of them-... – you were sure he was about to go full Paulo Coelho on you and quote the entire thing if you'd only let him. There was no chance at blowing his own horn that this man wouldn't take.

– So you're calling yourself a liar? – you mused instead, walking up to him to lay your hands on his shoulders - which almost immediately lost some of the tension, mind you – What happened to being the "man of your word"? I distinctly remember you giving me a whole speech, and call me foolish, but I was under the impression you're the type of man to practise what you preach. – pointing out his mistakes like this was satisfying on a petty level, you had to admit that much. No matter what he said, he'd be only digging his own grave and you both knew that. You left him with no room to wiggle, no way to escape.

You weren't stupid, despite him often saying that - he wouldn't pick himself no bimbo or himbo, after all. And in times like these, it was clear he hated you for it.

– You're manipulating me into giving in. – he accused with a pout, crossing his arms, and it took everything you had in you not to laugh then. Nothing but a child, indeed...

– Whatever it takes to get you to bed. – your murmured sweetly, leaning down to his ear, but every intention of placing a kiss under it died once the smell of sweat, grime and motor oil reached your nose – And a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

He rolled his eyes as you scrunched up your face - good lord above, you'll have to visit more often because this man couldn't take care of himself anymore. The only thing he really cared about now was Batman - his humiliation, his downfall, his surrender to the great mind of Edward Nigma, The Riddler, The Ultimate Boss or whatever it is Ed called himself nowadays.

Watching him spiral down into madness over the years really took its' toll on you, but it made Edward need you more than ever. He couldn't even take a bath by himself, it seemed.

– Please. – begging was your last resort, but like you said - you'd do anything to get him to rest. Besides, you knew that making him feel in power was a huge weakness of his - he'd figure out a way to bring you a star from the sky if you'd only said one sweet "please".

And hearing him sigh in resignation, feeling his back straighten and press harder into your hands, you knew you won him over.

– Only because you asked nicely. – he grumbled laying his palms flat on the surface of his desk, preparing to get up. Of course, not before you stole a grateful kiss from him. Good boys deserved rewards, after all.

You'd lie if you said you didn't enjoy the way a blush crawled from his neck up to his ears. No matter how many years passed, this dork still blushed every time you kissed him and it must've been the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.

– I was serious about the shower. You stink.

You laughed at hearing his agonized groaning. There was no getting out of this one.

***

Despite some minor difficulties, like Edward barely being able to support his own weight, let alone wash himself, you considered the shower a success. After a good scrub and a clean shave, you had your handsome riddle-man back. With triple bags under his eyes and a hairline you were starting to worry about, but handsome nonetheless.

– Are you hungry? – you asked, cupping his cheeks and smiling at the smoothness of them. God only knew that terrible stubble of his was like needles to your skin... But, instead of a proper answer, his head fell onto your shoulder heavily as he leaned almost all of his weight on you.

– Bed. – he moaned and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you as you patted his still wet hair condescendingly.

Seems you'd have to re-schedule a warm meal to another time. You'd make him something in the morning. Or afternoon, considering it was well after three in the morning and once Edward fell asleep, there was no chance of waking him up for at least twelve hours.

– Of course, baby, c'mon. – you chuckled, tugging him out of the bathroom and leading the way to his office. He had a fatigued sofa bed for when he was caught up with work - which was most of the time. Didn't mean he used it, though. He was the type of man to work himself into exhaustion and fall asleep right where he's standing, only to complain about back problems to you later.

It was a shame he didn't use the sofa more often, too - it was almost unbelieveably comfortable for something that costed less than a decent meal.

– Go on and lay down, – you encouraged, watching as he all but fell onto the sofa – I'll go tell the boys to-...

It was with surprising strength that he pulled you back harshly, apparently not minding the way you literally tumbled into him as his lean arms circled your form and forcefully rolled you over so that his head was laying comfortably on your chest - his favourite pillow of all.

– Or not. – you huffed, rolling your eyes at him as his grip around you only tightened and he nuzzled his face into your t-shirt. Nothing but a big man-child...

– Don't ever stop. – he murmured, so low you barely caught it, once his breathing synchronized with yours and your arms hugged him back as one of your hands went to his head to brush through his hair.

– Hm? Stop what?

You felt his arms squeeze you tightly one last time.

– Loving me.

You watched him fall asleep with a smile on your face. Damn this absolute dork... Like you'd ever stop loving him.

#edward nygma #edward nigma #riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #my writing #fluff #a sprinkle of angst #geekgirlofarchangels #not my proudest work tbh #but i hope you like it!#i tried lmao

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Beast Mode {One Shot}***

Florian Munteanu x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warning: Cursing, NSFW AT ALL, SMUTTTTTY, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Summary: You’re in a relationship with Florian who has come to the end of his training period in prep for his long-anticipated and publicized match with “Elias “Cutthroat” Morales. The two of you haven’t seen each other in three months because of his trainer’s brutal training practices. You fly in a few hours before the match to wish him luck.

Note: I’ve said this before, I am terrified of this man but here we are. I don't know what that/this says about me but oh well. This was not asked for at all. SMH

**I have never written Florian, I have no idea about his mannerisms, body language or personality. I am writing this because I cannot stop thinking about it and it is driving me nuts. So, excuse me if this does not fit him exactly. I hope you enjoy the terrifying ride. As always, thank you for reading!!!!

**Image not my own

***Not Edited/proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What training would restrict visits from his girlfriend for three months? His trainer. No matter how much he’d protested, begged and bargained he was not budging.

“No visits until fight night. You need to stay objective and vicious.”

It was logical but he missed the hell out of you. FaceTime calls were not cutting it anymore, especially when he saw your posts on social media. As an influencer, it was your job to play everything up but from what you posted it looked like he was out of sight and out of mind. It didn’t help matters the comments he’d read under your pictures. They were all from thirsty dudes who loved using their internet fingers to make it seem like they were big and bad. Little did they know he was big and nasty. He’d easily break every bone in their body over you. There was no limit to his possessiveness.

“Focus!”

The drill Sergeant like sound of his trainer’s voice snapped him right back to reality. He zeroed in on his sparring partner and bobbed and weaved around the ring evading punches and firing them right back. He’d trained like a beast for the last six months. The last three he’d been pushed past the brink of sanity. He was now so ready for this match that all he saw was him standing victorious covered in his opponent’s blood. Was it vicious? Yeah. Did he care? Nope.

“Good. Yes! Don’t give him a chance to recover. Yes! Always in kill mode.”

He did one of his fancy moves spun behind his opponent then hammered his sides with everything he had. As they turned to him, he then delivered the final blow, a jaw crushing right hook. Everyone around him cheered and clapped. He ripped the gloves off his hands and checked on the guy he’d just knocked out. The doctors gave him a reassuring look to tell him he’d be fine. Taking their word for it he slipped out the ring and made it over to his trainer who had a pleased look on his face.

“Morales has no idea what’s in store for him. You’ve shaved off eighteen seconds off of your recovery time, added a full twelve minutes to your stamina, you’re faster than I’ve ever seen you and not to mention that mean in you is at the right level to blow. This match is yours.”

He felt it too. He felt like he was in the best physical shape of his life. He was focused and had his eye on the prize. The only thing missing was you.

“Hit the showers, get back to the hotel and I’ll send over the massage therapist to loosen up those muscles and have a good meal. Tomorrow you go from sixty-eight and ten to sixty-nine and ten!”

As he packed up his bag he nodded he liked the sound of that. Deciding to just grab a shower at the hotel he ducked into his waiting car and stretched out in the backseat. He was ready for a little break. At the thought of that, he thought of you. he took out his phone and found your contact to see your recent message from last night, a picture of yourself cuddled in the bed of the house you shared together. He could tell you weren’t wearing anything and every muscle in his body flexed aggressively.

“Push it away, focus,” he chanted to himself. It was a chant whenever he felt biology taking over. He was but a man.

MSG: I’m sorry I missed this last night. I had to be up for my last practice. Don’t be mad.

A few minutes passed before a response came in.

MSG Y/N: It’s okay. I get it, Big Nasty has to be aggressive, be be aggressive.

He snorted.

MSG: Really?

MSG Y/N: I’m your biggest cheerleader babe. I miss you.

Your words felt good to know. Usually, when he went into disappear training mode your relationship struggled. You wanted him around to share everyday things with, to be with but he wasn’t anywhere there. You said sometimes you felt like you were single and hated it but maybe you should go act like it too. It was the root of many arguments between the two of you, but neither of you ever let go.

MSG: I miss you so fucking much it’s insane.

MSG Y/N: How much?

MSG: I can’t even use words.

MSG Y/N: Then what would you use to show me?

Again, his muscles tensed and all he could think about was showing you how much he missed you. In seconds he was hard.

“Fuck!”

He resisted the urge to palm his length and tried to focus on his breathing.

MSG: Chill, babe. I’m already hard.

MSG Y/N: Really? Show me. Please. I haven’t seen a dick in months.

He could hear the whine in your words. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he did it anyway. Slipping his sweats a few inches lower he allowed his hardness to flop out. He was getting harder. He took a picture of himself and sent it to you.

MSG Y/N: Damn baby. It’s beautiful. I miss it so much.

MSG: He misses you.

A groan escaped him and showed him how close he was to losing himself. Slipping his meat back inside his sweats he sat up and worked to shrug off the arousal you’d brought on him.

MSG: When this is done let’s take a trip. Anywhere you wanna go.

MSG Y/N: Okay. Let’s do it.

You were always down to indulge his love of traveling. He worked hard and took a lot for the job and liked to unwind just as hard. As he approached the hotel he let you know his intentions for the night before ending your conversation.

When he made it up to his room he wasted no time getting in the shower and letting the hot water work magic on his muscles. You were still on his mind and made it even more difficult to get through without touching himself. He caught himself three times. The first he didn’t even realize it until he grunted out your name. He looked down to find his cock in his hand. The second time he caught himself before he gripped his length and the third he stopped the thought.

He didn’t know what the hell had come over him, but he had better find a way to get a grip especially this close to the match. His coach and trainer were both unanimously against any sort of pleasure while training and before a match. They didn’t care about the toll it took on his relationship, they cared about the end goal. He’d done this before and each time you were a trooper with accepting it, but this felt different. This time was harder for you, harder for him too.

When he got out of the shower his meal was waiting. He settled in front of the tv and watched videos of Elias Morales fight. This was his pre-match routine the biggest plate of pasta and studying his opponent. You didn’t have a record like his by just floating through matches. He was meticulous if nothing else, he trained, plotted, and prepared then executed.

An hour later he got a message letting him know his massage therapist would be there soon. Pausing the latest video, he stripped down and went over to the massage table and laid there waiting. As he waited he continued the video. He was so focused on it he didn’t hear when the masseuse entered. It was only when he saw her feet it registered.

“I think deep Swedish should work tonight,” he suggested. She didn’t answer. He was about to turn around when he felt the hot oil drip across his back. The next thing he felt were small hands begin their work of rubbing him down and kneading out knots.

Every night this week there had been a different masseuse, a different one he had to tell just what he liked. As he was about to open his mouth to let her know he liked some pressure along his spine but not at the tail of his spine she beat him to it by doing just that. A long moan slipped from him, it felt good. The masseuse continued her work and expertly kneaded his back muscles with the right amount of pressure and the right alternating techniques. It was like they knew just what he liked. Small hands went lower to his waist and gently massaged him there. The next place he felt her hands were his calves, she squeezed as her hands slid down to his ankles.

“God yes!” His body was quickly relaxing.

Thirty minutes more found him completely relaxed with muscles that didn’t hold an ounce of tension in them.

“Turn.” Not paying attention he flipped over to find a hot towel drop across his face.

“Breathe it in, eucalyptus, rose, lavender, coconut oil, and lemon. The right recipe for relaxation and optimal pore health.” He laid there and inhaled the aromas coming from the towel and found himself relaxing even more. This was almost just what he needed. It would have to do.

The same small hands began rubbing his chest down spending focus on his pec muscles before slowly gliding over his abs. This is where the hands slowed even more. There was no massage patterns to her movements now. When he began to move to take the towel off she moved her hands to his thighs and forcefully massages into them. It was enough to throw him off. Another twenty minutes passed before he heard a feminine moan in the air, a moan that did not belong to him. Quickly he ripped the towel off his face and sat up to see you standing beside him.

“Y/N?”

“Surprise!” Seconds passed before he pulled you into his arms and hugged you.

“Oh my god, what’re you doing here?”

“I missed you like really missed you. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow night. I needed to see you, baby.” He smiled and pulled her back into his arms. He felt the same way.

“I missed you too. Shit, this one was worse than all the others before,” he expressed as you pressed your forehead to his.

“It was. I hate this, but I love you so much.” Your lips met for a sweet peck, but one peck turned to two and three and before either of you knew it you were full-on making out. You moaned on his mouth and his hardness instantly returned with a vengeance. You bit his bottom lip and softly raked your nails up and down his back.

“Don’t do that babe, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If Hugo found you here he’d be so pissed.”

“I don’t care. I’ve followed every rule for two years. I’ve never protested. I’m protesting now. I want to see my man.” He smiled, he loved hearing you call him that. When you introduced him he always felt cocky when you called him your man. He didn’t know why.

“You’ve been a good girl,” he said as he stroked your hair down your back.

“I’ve been such a good girl, baby. What do I get as a reward?”

A smile spread across his face and every nasty thing flashed through his head.

“What do you want, love?”

You tipped your tongue out and licked across his lips then softly nibbled his bottom lip all while staring in his eyes.

“You. I want you, baby. I always want you—just you.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He crashed his lips to yours and took control of the kiss. He only intended for it to be a kiss, only intended for it to go so far. After a few minutes, he stood and lifted you into his arms. When you wrapped your legs around his waist his body made the decisions from then on. He turned and dropped you onto the massage table and quickly pulled off the dress you wore. He lost it when he realized you had on his favorite colored lace.

“Fuck!”

You spread your legs wider and bit your bottom lip. You were giving him access and permission. He couldn’t think, any possibility for logical thought was gone. He kissed you briefly then dropped his lips to your neck and sucked and teased the skin there. He knew you liked when he did it. You smelled incredible, a scent he hadn’t smelled in months, a scent that was making it impossible to control himself. His lips moved lower over your skin and latched onto your lace-clad breast. He sucked and bit your nipple through the material and enjoyed every mewl that fell from you.

When your hands hugged his head to you he sucked more forcefully.

“Yes baby. Oh god yes.”

He wrestled with the hooks of your bra and normally this would have been an easy task, but right now he didn’t have the patience it required. Gripping the material, he pulled it apart popping the clasps but freeing your breasts. He cupped them in his hands and feasted on each pert nipple for several long minutes. When he crouched between your legs he pulled your ass to the edge and stared at you.

“Don’t stop baby, please. Put your name on it.”

He growled out and grabbed a fistful of your underwear and ripped it clear off of you. Your moan of approval sent him over the edge of control. His lips connected with your sex and sucked. His intention was not to go slow, not to tease and not to waste any time. He needed this and he knew you did too. He slurped and devoured your flesh and relished in the unique taste of you. He’d missed your taste, missed the sounds you made when he did just what he knew would drive you crazy, missed how you reacted to him like a flame. At the root of it, he missed you. Your screamed signaled your orgasm. He was pleased you’d found your first release, but he had plans for many more.

He stood but before he could sheath himself you slipped off the massage table and to your knees. You pulled the towel from around his waist and came eye to eye with what you wanted. The look on your face spoke of how ravenous you were. You lowered your mouth over his length and took him fully into your mouth as far as he could go. He growled out again and held your head in place. His hips moved thrusting in and out of your mouth slowly at first but when goosebumps broke out across his skin he sped up. soon you were gagging and slurping with every snap of his hips. You were always good at swallowing every inch of him. Before he lost it he pulled you up and threw you over the table with your ass poking out to him.

They say the first touch is the sweetest but for him, the first feel of you around him was almost too much for him. He hovered over your back and letting the shake go through him. With each inch he slipped inside of you, you clenched around him. With a few more inches to go, he slammed into you making you scream out.

“Fuck Flo!” Your body shook through its second release. He was just getting started.

From the start he set the only pace he could, the only pace his body could tolerate—fast. He slammed into you with bruising thrusts that had purpose. He had to remind you who was daddy, and who truly owned this pussy.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking tight. Yes! This pussy missed daddy?” You nodded but he wanted to hear the words.

“Tell me. Did my pussy miss me?”

“Fuck, yes, it missed you, daddy. It missed you so much.” He pushed your head lower with one hand and gripped your hip with the other then jackhammered into you. your screams were loud, but soon they turned raspy and desperate. You were always the only one that could take all of him. The only one who came close to crippling him with pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs and twisted you around, so you laid on your back with your thighs spread wide. God, he loved this view. He pulled out and sucked on your clit for a few moments before he tasted you as you came right in his mouth. You wrapped your thighs around his head and rode the wave of your third orgasm. When he tried to untangle himself, you weren’t having it. He almost laughed, you wanted to get rough. Forcefully he obliged, pulling your legs open, pressing them back to the table. He lined up his throbbing cock with your core and locked eyes with you. From the look in your eyes, he knew you knew what he intended to do.

“Whose pussy is this Y/N?”

“Yours baby.”

“Whose?”

“Yours daddy. Fuck this pussy—own this pussy.”

He snapped his hips forward and connected your bodies to the hilt. He could feel every inch of you inside and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head you loved it. From the pace and force of his thrusts, the massage table shook as if it were on its last legs. He didn’t care. He was voracious.

“This pussy is mine, mine, mine, mine!” his only focus was finding that release, he knew he’d taken care of you. Changing the angle, he held you, he turned you to your side and held your leg in the air but continued plowing into you.

He wanted to come so bad, but he couldn’t. It was something he’d experienced before. He was so backed up that physically and psychologically he wasn’t in sync. It was normal for training and competing and normal for the first few weeks after. He held tightly to you and held you in the air and continued pumping into you.

“Shit, shit!”

“How does this dick feel baby?”

“So fucking good.”

You kissed him and began bouncing on him using his body as the anchor. He groaned and leaned against whatever he found close by and allowed you to fuck him. His moans and grunts fell from him one after the other and he didn’t care if you knew just what you were doing to him. It was never a secret. After a few minutes, he rose his hips up meeting you halfway.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come, baby, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” He loved hearing those words. Using both hands he held you still and plowed into you and chased the release he’d denied himself for six months. The closer he got the louder he was, the louder he was the harder he fucked you. It was all a chain reaction that fueled and fed you both.

In a matter of minutes, he was having tunnel vision and knew he was close. He turned and pressed you against what he thought was a wall but was really one of the floor to ceiling windows. He didn’t care enough to stop. You helped him and rode onto him as he thrusted. It didn’t take long before you came again and pulled his long overdue orgasm from him. He shouted loudly as he came and filled you up with every last drop of the love he’d been saving for you.

A few minutes later when you both had come down a little from your release, he realized though he’d come he was still rock hard. He needed more. When you realized it, your eyes filled with excitement and a hint of tease.

“Can you take what you’ve unleashed?”

“I can take this dick anytime, anywhere, for however long daddy.” His smile was wide. He didn’t expect anything less from you.

“You’re daddy’s nasty girl. Let’s see if you remember how nasty daddy likes it.”

“Beast mode daddy?”

“Make sure you can take it.” You didn’t answer, instead, you kissed him and clenched around him giving the only answer he needed. It was going to be a long night.

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