#he braces himself- blood boiling - as he turns around thinking that he better not see what he thinks he’s about to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ploompkin · 6 days

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Idk whether I’ll have time to finish this, but…! Here- just a teaser of what could maybe-in-future be a full fic. Based on @ohsayit ‘s scenario I reblogged earlier 🤭

Summary: You steal Zevlor’s shirt. He wants it back. …And he’s willing to fight for it.

Pairing: (gender neutral) Zevlor/Reader ; Zevlor/Tav

Rating: T

Cw(s): Suggestive!! General sauciness, but nothing explicit.

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“Tav.” Zevlor reaches out his hand, stance firm. “I need it. Give it here. Now, please.”

You prop your chin up on your knuckles, elbows on your knees, smug, because despite the irritation in his voice you can tell by his face that the sight of the oversized sleeves swallowing up your hands has him smitten.

With the most obnoxious smirk you can manage, you issue the challenge. “Come take it off me yourself.”

He sets his jaw, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re sure want to play this game?”

As an answer, you just lean back and undo another button— the shirt now gaping so wide it’s just short of exposing a nipple— and stick the tip of your tongue out. His reaction is priceless, body stiffening as his expression flits between aroused and annoyed too many times to count, until it settles on… neither. He looks at you blankly, and just when you’re wondering whether you’ve finally broken him, he lunges for you. You both fall backwards into your tent as you collide, landing in an awkward heap among the cushions. His initiative is better than yours though, and before you can even think what your next move will be, he has you pinned beneath him by the wrists. Both of your breaths mix, along with your gazes, heated. Then, you brace one foot on his thigh and lock your arms around his shoulder, throwing him off effortlessly- but he’s prepared for that, and immediately breaks into a roll to escape a counter attack, pushing himself up into a crouch. You mimic his stance (not like there’s room to stand in the tent anyway), and eye him warily. His tail swishes from side to side, a playful, but confident smile on his face.

“The shirt, Tav.”

But this is about more than the shirt now. This is about pride.

You lift your chin in defiance. “I’m starting to get attached to it, actually. Think I’ll keep it.”

He growls. “That wasn’t a request.”

“And that wasn’t a surrender.”

“Torm’s tears, you’re so…!—“ He grinds his teeth— “stubborn…!”

You just wink at him. “I am. And that’s why you love me.”

He huffs, but you see the lines of his face soften. Unfortunately though, although he calls you stubborn he’s much the same, and this fight is far from over. He stalks over to you, but before he can get close enough for whatever he has planned, you rush to tackle him at the waist. That proves to be a mistake. You might be agile and have a solid technique, but he has all of that and a set of infuriatingly strong muscles. So, you find yourself underneath him. Again. It’s enough to make your blood boil, irritating you as much as it is very rapidly turning you on— but when his teeth graze against your neck, your body quickly decides to favour the latter. A sigh falls from your lips as he kisses along the sensitive skin, followed by a shiver as he drags his tongue over your pulse, torturously slowly. His body feels so pleasantly firm against yours, and you’re suddenly desperate to have more of him, arching your hips up into his with what you’ll deny is a quiet whine. The adrenaline from the fight transforms into something else entirely, your head spinning with want as he encourages you, rocking against you.

Then, you feel it. Fingers creeping between you two, presumably trying to be stealthy, and moving to undo the rest of the shirt buttons.

Bastard!

Now he’s not expecting your resistance you’re more easily able to reverse your positions, pinning him in place with your thighs, doing your best to ignore the longing ache between them.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to steal it? Really?”

“Steal!” Zevlor scoffs, “I’m just taking back what is mine.”

“By seducing me.” You lean in closer, smiling sweetly. “What an underhanded technique for such an honourable soldier.”

He scowls at you. “If I remember correctly- and I most certainly do- you flashing me is the whole reason we’re in this mess.”

“Ahh, so it did get you hot and bothered. That’s good to know.”

“I’m only a man, Tav.” He grumbles. “I can hardly be blamed for it.”

“No.” Your smile widens, “but you can be for your actions. Tackling me into the tent?” You tsk. “Really, Zev. I took you for a gentleman.”

His lips twitch up at the corner, eyes hooded as he watches you. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough.”

Your mouths are only a hairs width apart now, and you can feel each heavy breath he takes as if it were your own. Just for a moment you forget yourself, and swallow thickly. He spots the bob of your throat and chuckles, hand sliding up the back of your neck and threading into your hair.

“One last chance,” he murmurs against your ear. “Return what you stole, and I’ll go easy on you. If not…”

He knows he doesn’t even need to finish the thought; your imagination will do the rest.

“You’re expecting me to beg for your mercy, rider?” He shudders as your lips brush, and your tongue darts out to kiss his lower lip. “Dream on.”

You groan lowly as his hands grab onto your hips, claws sinking in just shy of drawing blood.

“Mrag, your insolence knows no bounds.” A dark laugh tickles your cheek. “Very well. But don’t blame me if come tomorrow morning you regret it.”

#cw suggestive #I rarely post my writing on here lol this is fun #sorry if Zevlor is a bit ooc I’m still learning how to write him #I do think if he had a partner he genuinely felt comfortable with tho he would be fairly confident and flirty with them.#when they’re alone anyway~#zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 #zevlor/tav #zevlor/reader #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #my writing

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star--nymph · 1 year

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Hey! <3 1 for Artemis, 26 for Kass and Blaine, and 42 for Eury (or some combination of those if that's too many!)

Artemis

How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Ohohohoho. This can of worms you just opened up is hefty, Artemis hates his father. Loathes him. Would and will attempt to run him through if ever sees him again. Seth is a coward in his eyes; a weak shitstain of a man who puffed his medal decorated chest and then was too scared to stick around when his child turned out to be a freak of nature. He abandoned his family--his pregnant wife and child--and it wasn't for their sake, pretending like they were better off with out because of that fear. No, he left because he was just scared and wanted to protect himself. And then he disappeared while his family suffered. Was kidnapped, tortured, shredded, and murdered. Maybe he couldn't have saved them but fuck, if he had stuck around at least it meant he cared. That resentment in Artemis only grew when he become a father--a relatively young one, too. Dolly wasn't a choice, he didn't know about her, and she's an anomaly. She could absolutely end up killing Artemis one day but Artemis doesn't care. Dolly could turn out to be a full blown curse of nature and he still wouldn't leave her. The thought of abandoning her to the world like he was by his father boils Artemis' blood. So yeah, there is an influence there, in that Artemis is going to be everything his father isn't and at the same time everything he fears. He thought his baby boy was a monster? Okay, Dad, he'll give you a monster. In summary:

Kass and Blaine

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

The Godkiller HQ is a former office building because that's all they could afford at the time. For the most part, it's not a bad place. They gutted one floor for training purposes, a second floor the medbay and the arsenal, a third floor for the interrogation/war room meetings, and then the upper levels are the living areas. The main living area is open concept with the kitchen and living room, loft above that leads to Blaine, Kass, Guest Room (later Asha's room), Amy's room, and Holly's room (which is combined with the surveillance). The living room has a door leading to Ryu's room and another leading to Utah's. There is also bathroom, another guest room, and a random scrap room that's also used for laundry. There is a stair case that leads directly to the roof as well. That's a lot but you asked for a home. As for Kass' personal taste/theme I guess? Kass is all sunset colors. Red, pink, yellows, oranges. Anything bright goes. I'm trying to figure out what in terms of fashion Kass is--cause she's kind of both very edgy rocker chick but also she likes very pretty clothing like dresses and mini skirts. Depending on her mood, she could be in damaged skinny jeans and boots or in a flowy summer dress. What she likes is comfortable above all else but most importantly, she always needs a leather jacket. Kass as a leather jacket for every color and if she doesn't, she'll go hunting for one. She just likes being cute, she likes being sexy, she likes her colors and glitter, she likes being able to move. She wants to feel good in her clothing and I think she's get a boost when she at least looks stylish even if she feels like shit. That said, her look for combat is all black, red, and grey--for good reason. She needs to blend in with her surroundings but her signature bright red jacket and power strips on her armor, braces, and boots key people in that she's not a civilian, but an active combatant. For Blaine, his colors are blues, useless leaning into muted hues or steel blues. He likes his pops of colors too, though. Yellows, greens, whites. I think his look is very casual and kind of loosey? Nice fitted jeans with baggy dress shirts, hoodies, sweaters. He has a lot of shirts that also have patterns too (yes he does have and happily wear Hawaiian shirts). He does that flannel over a graphic t-shirt look (the graphic is like 'local cryptic is my boyfriend', don't question it). Loves a good pair of high rise sneakers or boots. He likes wearing earrings and necklaces too. He also has a couple of bomber jackets and denim jackets. I think I'd call Blaine's entire look very...sleek? Homebody? Nerd? He does look a collar shirt under a sweater. Combat wise, Blaine is a greys and blues. Like Kass, his armor, boots and braces have subtle blue power strips running through to regulate strength and impact. Blaine's combat suit has external padding on the knees and elbows and over all has a close resemblance to a fencing uniform.

Eurydice

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

Freedom. I don't think Eurydice is aware of how much but she hungers for freedom and choice in her life. It's the saddest part of Inquisition because nothing that brought or kept here there was her choice. Eurydice stays as First out of Duty, she leaves for the conclave out of loyalty, she is forced into the position of Herald and the Inquisitor under threat of imprisonment by human hands. She doesn't want any of those positions and for most of her life, she's be forced into a very tight place by the people controlling her. The second she has agency, she doesn't keep the Inquisition. She disbands--she leaves. She hates being Inquisitor. So much of Eury's story is about her chasing freedom and being able to choose things for herself. She chooses to be a witch without a clan, she chooses to marry Cullen, she chooses to be a mother, she choose leave. Someone once told me that Eurydice felt more at home in an AU where she was a Avvar Augur than she ever did as Inquisitor and yeah, that's by design. She chose to be an Augur. Happy Ending in every story with Eurydice? She leaves and travels the world. No one is ever able to find her unless she allows them to. I think of a worse fate for Eurydice than her being chained to the Inquisition and Chantry for the rest of her days--except the fate where she chained to her father. This is why in the Fade her tombstone would read 'Possession': Eurydice doesn't simple fear being possessed by a demon, she fears any form of agency or captivity. She fears being a Tranquil, she fears being trapped in the Circle, she fears that she is an empty, heartless shell of a person like her father says she is. She fears objectification and dehumanization. There is no way out of she doesn't have a choice. And what Eurydice is willing a lot to achieve it? Gnawing her own arm off for one, which kind of feels like what happened in Trespasser anyway? Allowing the chantry to burn? Being exiled and hated by her clan even if she loves them with all her heart? The world? Well yes in the situation where Eurydice becomes a creature of the forest with no connection to anything or anyone besides her animals and her things and her space? Then yeah, the world can burn if it means her freedom? What does she care? The world is loud anyway. Gotta love that sense of self preservation that never goes away.

#writing #Godkiller//Deity #deity oc- artemis #deity oc- kassandra rosales #deity oc- blaine storms #eurydice lavellan #love my self serving Elf so much #she doesn't actually care about the world she cares about her people and sense of exploration more #honestly had she run into Solas as a self isolated witch she'd probably help him #but in a 'I don't care for your cause but sure you give me payment I'll help'#she takes her observer position when she has nothing to keep her tithered to her world #also GOD the Artemis' dad situation is SO FUNNY #cause I don't know to add this but I very much think him having Dolly call him Papa is very much a result of that #cause he called his Dad Daddy so now he's like ew no don't want to ANY relation to that

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empiriical · 1 year

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[ attempt ] ladd attempting to kill claire. ^^

in some ways, ladd thinks it might be more fun if claire were trying to kill him too. of course, he's flattered that he works so hard to keep him alive. it's also infuriating. claire's confidence that he doesn't even need to fight back to win against ladd makes his blood boil.

nothing gets him in the mood to kill more.

still — sometimes ladd has to provoke him, just a little. otherwise, attacking him out of nowhere is just boring.

what's one little murder, anyway?

blood from his victim splatters over ladd's shirt, && he drops the lifeless body where he stands, making for the roof. claire will see it when he comes back from the restroom, && he'll track him down. it's the perfect plan, the kind of game they play with each other, almost like a murderous dance. smiling to himself, ladd clambers to his feet, bracing against the wind as he gets his footing.

he doesn't have to turn around to know when claire's found him. "sorry sweetheart," he says mildly, not sounding apologetic at all. "you should know better than to leave me alone for more than five minutes — i just can't help myself." he laughs, finally turning, && spreads his arms wide. there's love && murderous intent in his eyes, but they look the same. he's not being entirely truthful ; claire is hardly his impulse control. no, ladd simply waited for the right moment to provoke him. && it worked, && now they're here.

"but, now that we're up here..."

they dash towards each other. ladd swings a fist, one that claire wouldn't even need to dodge — it misses by a wide berth. "just warming up," ladd says, grinning. he ducks to avoid a blow from claire, && tosses his head back to shake his bangs from his eyes. "okay, that's enough warming up."

he's ruthless as ever with his punches && kicks. there's a gun tucked into his waistband, but he doesn't pull it out. other than the way his jaw sets in concentration, there's no indication in his expression that he's not having the time of his life. in his mind, a fantasy plays out, which he narrates aloud as he attacks && retreats in perfect step, so that claire knows exactly how he wants it to happen:

"you know, i feel like i should be insulted that you don't wanna be killed by me." that's how it starts, a melodramatic lament. "see, i've been thinking about it a lot, && it changes almost daily. but right now? i'm gonna hold you over the side of this train, && i'm gonna look into those beautiful eyes one final time until i see gen-u-ine fear. && then i'm gonna just let go, && watch you fall! i'll be sad to not get to watch you die, but what a way to go! what a perfectly poetic ending! from proposal 'til death-do-us part. it's fitting, right? so c'mon, claire! let me kill you!"

of course, that's not how it goes at all. what does happen is ladd ends up flat on his back atop a train car, which claire above him. his grin never once fades. his hands still bloody from his earlier kill, ladd drags a finger over claire's lips. "alright. you win." he sighs regretfully. "it'd be nicer if this blood was yours... oh well. next time!"

VIOLENT MUSE REACTION PROMPTS.

#i dont write fight scenes a lot as u can probably tell. this was fun tho!#remember when we were talking about ladd wanting to fight him on a train again lol #closedcoffins #& PATTERN FINDER. ( IC / LADD )#& PATTERN FINDER. ( ASK )#& PATTERN FINDER. ( QUEUE )

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ozarkthedog · 3 years

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | Nomad!Steve Rogers

summary: You disobeyed Steve and now you must make it up to him.

warnings: SMUT. 18+ only. Nomad!Steve Rogers. Dom/Sub Relationship. Daddy Kink. “Little One” Nickname. Crying. Angst? Bondage. Degradation. Overstimulation. Forced Orgasms. Asphyxiation. Anal Play. Hitachi Belt. Spreader Bar. Aftercare.

word count: 3,057

author’s note: I started writing this last year and totally forgot about it. oops! 💙

📖 Master List

This work has Adult Content. By clicking “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content. My work is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform.

“You didn’t do as you were told, so shut it.” Steve snarled with a harsh grip on your jaw.

He shoved himself away from you just as you began to weep. You let the tears fall freely, hating that you upset him so much.

Steve was seething as he stood in front of the fireplace, hands bracing on the mantle as his thoughts raced. Teeth clenched together in fury at the memory of finding you with your legs spread wide with fingers pumping away furiously in your cunt. He had to clear his throat twice in order for you to realize he was standing in front of you.

He was feeling savage. He wanted to teach you a lesson you’d never forget. He needed you to abide by his rules completely. You were his and he was yours. He’d never had someone he cared so much about and he intended on making this relationship work. No matter how difficult it was at times.

You stood nervously waiting for him to acknowledge you again. Fingers twisted together as you sniffed the remaining tears away. The thin white dress Steve insisted you wear at all times while home made you feel so exposed. The fabric could tear so easily just like the relationship you built with him.

But you were determined to not let that happen.

With Steve still looking away, you knelt down on the dark flooring. The wood solid beneath your trembling knees, “Daddy.” Barely a whisper but it made Steve cock his head to the side, listening.

You cleared your throat wanting to speak clearly, “Daddy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you but sometimes I just can’t control myself.” The admission made you cast your eyes to the floor out of embarrassment. How could he love you?

Sniffling you carried on, “I will take any punishment you deem fit. I won’t talk back. I will take what you give me.” Your fingers dig into your thighs waiting with bated breath for his response.

Steve sighed watching the flames dance in the fireplace. The warmth from the flames mixed with his lust driven heat as he spied you kneeling on the floor. You looked so delicate. So easy to manipulate and dig his teeth into.

He bit his lip at the image of you writhing around in that pretty white dress he bought you. His blood began to boil.

Turning on his heel he stalks towards you, smirking as the perfect punishment comes to mind. “Little One…” Your head whips up quickly at his voice as he nears you, coming to a stop over your kneeling form.

“Follow me.” He commands and he turns towards the stairs making his way to your shared bedroom. You follow behind running slightly to keep up with his large gait. Steve holds open the bedroom door as you wait in front of him, trepidation flooding your system.

“Once you step over the threshold, I’m in control, completely. No crying, no whining, nothing will get you out of your punishment.” His stare holds yours. His authority washes over, drowning you in him.

Once again you repeat your words, “I will take what you give me, Daddy.” Your voice breaks as you call him Daddy, forever always wanting to call him that.

Steve grazes your cheek with the back of his finger lightly before letting his hand fall to your shoulder, pushing you into the bedroom. The sound of the lock clicking sparks excitement in your core as you wait at the foot of the bed for him.

Steve comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, “Sit on the bed and watch as I set things up.”

Steve only made you watch as he set out the implements he intended using on you when he was truly mad. You watched as he disappeared into the closet before reappearing with a set of high heels.

Your brow furrowed in wonder as he set the heels down at your feet before going back to the closet. You peered down at the extravagant pumps, red in color with an extremely high, stiletto heel.

You remembered he bought them for you a while back but they were so uncomfortable you could never wear them out. Your attention was disrupted when Steve set a leather belt of sorts with an extra loop on the bed along with an Hitachi wand.

He walked over to the “play wall” and attached 2 separate wrist restraints to the rings in the wall. Your heart rate picked up as his intentions were revealed.

He means to make you suffer.

His dark eyes lingered on yours for a moment before speaking. “I’m allowing the safe word, but only, and I mean only if you truly can’t go on.” You bit your lip as he spoke out the next commands.

“Take off your dress and put those heels on.” He nods down to the red stilettos waiting to be put to use. You stood on shaky feet, slowly unbuttoning the white fabric before slipping it off your shoulders leaving you bare to him.

Steve watched as you bent over, sliding your feet into the heels before standing tall and gathering your footing. The heels easily made you 4” taller as you stood waiting for his next command.

Already your ankles were starting to hurt. The awkward angle of the heels forced all your body weight onto your toes making them scream. Steve let you stand there a few minutes, enjoying your discomfort before continuing.

“Walk over to the wall and place your hands in the cuffs.” You sneak a glance at him before slowly making your way over. The heels made you so unsteady, you raise your arms out to the sides to balance as you walk at a snail’s speed.

“If you don’t pick up the pace, I’m going to drag you over there and I won’t be nice about it.” Steve grits with annoyance watching as you jolt mid step and almost topple over. Somehow you caught yourself and made your way to the wall as fast as you could.

You turn around facing Steve as you slipped your wrists into the restraints high above your head and waited patiently. “Good Girl.” Steve smirks walking over to you and then gathers the cuffs before pulling them tight against your wrists and locking you up.

“Now the real fun can begin. Are ready?” He turns to pick up the leather belt coming back with a grimace on his face, his tone laced with displeasure at having to repeat himself, “I asked are you ready, Little One?”

You gasp a reply once you realized he wanted you to speak, “Yes, Daddy.”

Steve huffed and shook his head, “You’re going to have to start paying attention better. This won’t be good for you if you’re already starting to slip.” He bends down helping you step through the leather belt and buckles it over your waist.

He steps back and gazes over your tied-up form. He always did enjoy tying you down and making you squirm. He palms at his growing hard on before stepping up to you, caging you against the wall with his massive body causing you to let out a breathy squeal.

He tips your head to look up at him. “You want to make this up to me? Then you’re going to work for it. I’m going to make you wish you never disobeyed me, Little One.” He lets his threat hang in the air as he walks back to the bed retrieving the Hitachi.

He attaches it to the leather belt and secures it against your already slick pussy. He scoffs, “Being in this predicament turns you on? God, what a slut.”

Your cheek heat with embarrassment as he nestles the wand head flush against your throbbing mound. Grunting aloud when he forces it over your clit harshly.

As he works on making it stay in place he speaks, “You’re allowed to scream, thrash about, cry, whatever. But you’re not allowed to ask me to take you out of these binds. You’re staying like this until I say otherwise.” You nod your head in compliance even though you were scared of the outcome. Granted, you knew he would listen if you safe worded but this wasn’t about that.

Steve needed to know he could trust you, he needed to know you’d listen to his every word and abide by it. So, you swallowed down your fear and raised your head, ready for whatever he chose to do to you. “Yes, Daddy.”

Steve smoothed his hands over your hips as he stood to his full height. The way your breasts jutted out from your arms being raised over your head called out to be fondled but Steve kept his lust hidden. This wasn’t about him right now.

He leaned down and turned the wand on, clicking it until it sped up to the 3rd highest setting. Your body instantly spasmed. The strong vibrations were unyielding and forced you to feel the pleasure.

Instinctively, your legs closed together trying to keep the powerful vibrations at bay. The wand swayed in the air but never left your core. The movement causes you to see stars as it jostles against your folds.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to thwart your punishment already?” His tone was deadly. “Don’t worry, I have the perfect thing.”

Steve wanders away leaving you in a withering mess as you teeter in the heels. Your breathing quickens as you feel your orgasm coming on quickly. You pull at the wrist restraints frantically, “Daddy! Please! I’m close!” You call out desperately for him, not sure if he’s allowing you to cum or not.

Steve shouts his reply from deep inside the closet, “Go ahead and cum, Little One!”

He murmurs to himself as he spies what he came looking for, “It’ll the first of many.”

You cum with a wail as the vibe makes you convulse against the bondage wall. Your pussy twitches around nothing as your thighs shake trying to dislodged the horrid wand from your sensitive core.

“Here you go.” Steve says with amusement as he kneels down wrapping a cuff around your left ankle.

You look down in shock as Steve lines up the other cuff to your right ankle before strapping it to the spreader bar. “Now there’s no possible way for you to ease your punishment.” The biggest smirk is planted on his face as another wave of forced arousal courses through you sending you up another blissful peak.

“Awe, is my little Slut already feeling sensitive? That was only one orgasm. If you think I’m letting you out after 3, you’re in for a world of hurt.” His voice was cold sending you careening towards another orgasm.

Your eyes slammed shut as the tingling sensation lit up your nerves and sent you crashing down with another hard orgasm.

You tried catching your breath as the vibe forces more pleasure from you. The restraints hold your arms up so well you couldn’t even move them around all they could do was quake against the wall.

Heavy, pained mewls fill the room as you pant wildly taking every vibration as best as you can.

“Look at you. You love this.” He laughs at your pitiful attempts of trying to not cum. He palms at your tense face, pinched with determination. “Oh, it must hurt. The over stimulation must be torture.”

Distress paints your features as he degrades you further, “But that little pussy of yours got you in trouble. Such a greedy, little hole.” He enunciates the curse word with a pop to your cheek before taking your jaw back in his grip.

You gasp at the painful sensation heating the side of your face as it mingles with your swollen, sensitive mound. “Daddy! I-” Your orgasm starts up again fueled by the assaults on your body.

His fingers dig into the sides of your cheeks as you topple off the cliff with a shout. His hand keeps your face still, pushing back on the wall behind you.

“That was 3, Little One. I want to tear 7 out of that cunt tonight.” His breath hot on your neck as he forces his body over you.

Your body shakes at his command. A ragged sigh escapes you feeling worn out already from the onslaught of torture.

Steve cants his hips up and into your body, pushing the Hitachi harder against your mound. “No! Oh! Da- ” You shake your head as you feel another orgasm slithering its way through your system.

Teeth gnaw at your neck, biting up and down the crook of the soft skin. His muffled moans fill your ears as he thrusts his growing hardon into the toy, in return causing you to tumble down another peak.

The forced orgasm makes your body lock up, tight and ridged as your knees start to buckle and you sag in the restraints. Steve feels you slide down, hanging by your wrists letting the pain and torturous pleasure take over.

“Hey, now. None of that.” He grasps the hair at the base of your neck and pulls until your steady on 2 feet. “Don’t give up on me yet. You still have 3 more to go.”

You stare at him with hazy eyes. Your mind foggy and filled with nothing but determination even though your body wants to give up.

Steve swipes his thumb over your lips before he leans in for a soft kiss. The feeling of his lips as they slide over yours sends a fresh heightened wave of bliss up your spine. You moan lewdly into his mouth as he laps at your tongue.

He enjoys watching your tired body respond to the new sensations. He pulls away as you whine from the loss. “Hush.” He says, sternly with a harsh smack to your breasts causing you to spasm and scream in your bonds as another orgasm is ripped from you.

Your muscle fibers feel aflame as you come down from your 5th orgasm that night. Your head whips from side to side, unconsciously wanting to put an end to this punishment. You’re a quivering mess, tugging at your binds out of necessity.

“Stop it. You can do this. Show me you can do as I say.” Steve says with a firm voice, encouraging you. “Make it worth all the pain.”

You sniffle and close your eyes as Steve blots at some fallen tears rolling down your cheek. You open your eyes just as his lips close around his salty digits with a husky, satisfied groan.

Gnawing at your bottom lip your try to distract yourself from the overwhelming pain burning through your core and dragging you over hot coals. Steve’s hands wrap around your body, forming over the fleshy globes of your ass and grinds his straining girth against your heated body.

“If only you were good, it would’ve been my cock dragging all these orgasms from you.” His teeth clash onto your clavicle, drawing blood to the surface with a sneer, “Instead, I’m just going to have rut against you as your cunt drools all over the floor.”

His fingers slide their way between your cheeks, rubbing tenderly over your puckered rim causing your eyes to roll back, hard. Breath hitches in your throat as you propel steadily towards another raw crest.

“Maybe I should take pity on you and open this hole up. You did always cum so easily with my fingers up your ass.” He gloats, tapping the tight right of muscle in quick succession eliciting a frantic wail from your lips as you tip over the tumultuous edge.

Your head lolled forward resting against his powerful chest as exhaustion takes over. Your will power was dying and you let the tears flow. “Daddy, I can’t.”

Steve shook his head, “Not when we made it this far. You’re not giving up.”

A calloused hand locks tightly around your neck cutting off your carotid artery. In an instant your mind spins, brain desperate for blood flow as your vision becomes blurred.

You tug uselessly at your bindings. Body shaking, ready to implode and cave in on yourself. Your ankles give way and the heels fall from your feet making Steve crush you harder into the wall.

His lips brush against your swollen ones, his beard tickling your dewy skin. “So close, you’re so close. Give me what I want. Show me you how sorry you are.”

Darkness sweeps in as your mouth opens and closes like a fish desperate for water. Your body feels light as a feather, no longer could you feel the vibrations rustling your sopping core and your sore muscles ceased their tension as you give into the murky depths.

A warm hand cups your cheek as a deep, soothing voice tempts you back from the sleepy haze. “Wake up, Little One.”

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself in the comfort of Steve’s arms. A wet washcloth runs between your legs making you wince. Even the softest fibers felt like sandpaper as he cleans your swollen folds. “I’m sorry but just a little more and I’ll be done.”

You curl into his chest, unsure how to feel. Had you made him happy? You couldn’t remember orgasming the final time. The last image you had was Steve wrapping his hand around your throat.

You timidly swallow, feeling slight bruises pepper your jugular. Your throat raw from crying and screaming for the last hour. Steve set the rag down with a sigh and dropped his chin to look at you.

“Did I do good?” You bottom lip trembling with hope.

Steve runs a hand over tear-stained cheek and breathes out a soft chuckle, “You did. So good you passed out as you came all over me.” Steve tilts his head towards the pile of clothes currently stained with your arousal. “Made such a mess and showed me how good you are.”

Soft lips kiss your hairline and ease the stress you’d been holding ever since he found you touching yourself without his permission.

“I’m proud of you for being so strong. You made Daddy very happy.”

Your eyes sleepily shut and you melt into the safety of his hold knowing everything would be ok.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #Chris Evans #steve rogers x you #steve rogers/you #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #ozzie writes

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uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

Note

Happy 100 followers🥳🥳🥳

Can you write a fic w the prompt 371 with Robin and a shy shy VERY SHY s/o??🥺🥺🥺

I like that most of your fics have an of confidence to y/n but I'd rather have her extremely shy pls

371. "You have a voice and body like an angel. I'd fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn't get to see those pretty eyes," with Damian Wayne.

ugh, i never realized that before! almost all of my readers are super confident, so i should try and mix it up more. thank you for the prompt!! happy 100 🥳 some sex pollen fun for u!

After hours of blood testing, surveillance, and fear, Damian was finally released to go home with you. Poison Ivy was officially in custody. Though Damian was confident that she hadn't dosed him fatally during their latest battle, Dick and Tim had coaxed him to take the precautionary tests anyway. Ivy’s usual toxin came up, which they had dozens of cures for in the cave. Bruce let him return home after being dosed with one, but asked that you keep an eye on him - not like you wouldn't already.

You could sense how tired Damian was. The fighting had lasted through the night, so the testing had brought you both to morning. The moment you shut the door of your apartment, you touched Damian's back. "Tell me if you feel any different, okay? I'm worried about you."

"I'm immune to hundreds of varieties of poison, beloved," Damian scoffed, shoving off his coat. He planted a soft kiss on your temple. "You don't need to worry."

"...I'll do my best," you replied, wary.

You had some things to do around the house, so you asked Damian to crash in the living room instead of the bedroom to keep him in sight. The night's events had apparently rattled him, because he twisted and turned under his blanket, grunting to himself. An hour passed with this routine. Damian would sigh and struggle to fall asleep, and you'd pause your tasks to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. He was only relaxed with his head in your lap, curling his cheek into your touch and blinking slowly at you.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

"About?"

Damian closed his eyes under your hand. "Anything. I... like your voice." He hummed to himself, brows gently furrowed, "...And your hair... your eyes..." he swallowed, "...your body."

Rendered bloodless by the compliments, you couldn't help but comply with Damian's request. It was always hard for him to fall asleep, and even harder for him to sleep well, so your heart ached for him. You talked about anything you could think of. What chores you had to do this week, how little you wanted to do them - bland things, like the dishes and clothes shopping. When you got to the part about the bras you were thinking about getting, Damian perked up.

"What kind?" He cleared his throat.

"Something cute," you shrugged. "You, um, r-ripped my favorite lace one, so I'll have to find something more durable? Something that looks just as nice."

"Mmn..." Damian's voice was thick with something dark. He sat up suddenly, turned over on his hands, and faced you on his knees. One broad palm squeezed the softest part of your thigh. “I adore you in lace,” he panted, pupils huge and black as the night sky, “the way those tiny panties wrap around your hips... I-I can’t resist myself. Just thinking about you in those cute little clothes makes me want to fuck you like an animal...”

“D-Damian!” You yelped. He’d never said anything like that to you before. Stunned words popped into your mind, but his hands caressing under your waistband made it impossible to speak.

“Say my name like that again,” he hissed. Damian crawled over you like a panther, dark and sexual. One huge hand viciously pinched your jaw and squeezed it. “You have the voice, the body of an angel - I’d fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn’t get to see those enchanting eyes.”

You braced your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his nude back. It was embarrassing how wet you were at just a little praise. “Damian... t-the toxin, it could be—”

All the energy in the world seemed to surge into him. Damian’s plump mouth kissed and nuzzled your neck. “I took the antidote already. Don’t worry, my love.” The fingers playing with the edge of your pants suddenly plunged in, cupping your damp, clothed core and practically singing, “This is only a side effect...”

His warm tongue drew and sucked circles into your throat, which instantly melted into his touch. You should be trying to be reasonable, but the power of Damian’s voice washed over you like a spell, and the slow, methodical press of his fingertips to your clit sealed the enchantment over you. Damian had you captured.

“Won’t you be a good girl and help your boyfriend feel better?” Damian drawled, wetting his fingers in your cunt. “I need you, Y/N... p-please, I’m so hard for you...”

He wasn’t lying. As your dance slowly reclined deeper into the cushions, you could feel his cock hardening against your leggings. Damian pulled himself out only when he knew you were watching, and pumped himself slowly, poorly, like he couldn’t bare to do it without you. Your cheeks burned with heat. You knew from experience how good Damian’s cock felt in hand, the weight of it meant for your touch and your touch alone. You drifted your fingers around him and Damian mewled, thrusting so hard into your touch that his sweatpants fell around his legs.

“C’mere,” you relented, and Damian crashed his lips so deeply to yours that it flattened you to the couch.

He tore down your leggings so you could wrap your legs around his middle. Damian pulled your bodies flush and curved his back, giving you both room to enjoy how you jerked the other off. With a throaty moan against your tongue, Damian sawed his cock between your folds and into your fingers, wetting the fabric of your panties. A boiling wave of heat locked your legs in place. Madly, Damian rolled his thumb around your clit, his voice keening into your ear with every circle, “So fucking beautiful... So fucking good for me...”

His enthusiasm made you desperate. Spitting a foamy circle of drool into your palm, you coated Damian’s sensitive shaft and lathered him as best you could. Damian’s jittery hips did most of the work, bucking his cock into the soft, sticky tunnel of your hand. You kissed like you were fighting, biting at the other’s lips and claiming each other's mouths with wide swipes of your tongues.

If you upped your pace, Damian would meet it. When you pumped him faster, Damian snapped your panties to the side and melted his fingers inside you. That was as coherent as the touching got. Everything else was primal instinct, wanting to touch and wanting to be touched. Damian’s free hand caressed your belly, grabbed your thighs, groped your breasts through your shirt, spasming for every inch of skin it could find. His mouth was the same, wildly claiming your moans until his lungs burned.

You came together, laboring for breath and trembling from head to toe. Damian pushed your shirt over your belly and came across it with unrestrained bliss, and you squeezed around his fingers, wound up like a toy box until Damian set you free.

But just as soon as his fingers drew away from your cunt, they closed around your thighs, pushing your knees against your chest and spreading your legs for him. The toxin’s side-effects had a greater hold on him than you thought - Damian was still rock hard, his girthy, wet tip playing with your pulsing folds.

Before he filled you, Damian uttered a single low order:

“Moan for me.”

#damian wayne/you #damian wayne/reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne #user uncouth

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keysmashingfantasies · 3 years

Text

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

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erwinsvow · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

summary: he wasn't always alone. in fact, there was a time when levi had you.

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions/description of injury and patching up, levi needs sleep

author's note: been in the works for a while because i couldn't figure out what i wanted to do, but this takes place after levi & zeke's conversation and there will be an angsty part two, i hope everyone likes it! it doesn't really make much sense but bear with me :)

listening to: don't let me go

“I bet you’re not popular with the ladies. Don’t act like you know about someone’s feelings.”

He pauses, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“I know. And I was… popular enough.”

He lets his mind take him back, back a time before everything in the world was so messed up. When he knew what his responsibilities were, and when there were clear orders to follow. He can’t seem to recall when everything went straight to shit. It feels like it’s been a long time coming.

He knew he was screwed years ago, when he was trying to stitch up the deep gash on his shoulder by himself, sitting in his quarters with a bowl of warm water and bloody bandages. You had been helping the others, a traumatized recruit with a concussion and broken leg, courtesy of the fifteen meter that had overwhelmed him.

There were a few others too, especially a familiar face that seemingly always needed your assistance after a mission. He wondered just how many times the boy—because that’s all he is, a boy, and that’s all you are, a girl—could get away with the same old ruse.

Regardless, he wouldn’t be visiting you tonight. Never mind that the cut he’s trying to nurse by himself is nearly impossible to properly reach, and that he feels dizzy from consistent bleeding and lack of energy in his body. The alcohol he ingested to calm his nerves doesn’t really do anything, either, since there isn’t nearly enough of the stuff in his room to actually have an impact.

He’s going to crash soon, he knows, and even though sleep always evades him, he just wanted to get this wrapped up and lay down without making a bloody mess everywhere. He releases a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. The very thought of you is enough to tense up every muscle in his body, and the idea of you being alone with that idiotic, improper recruit makes his fist tighten around the needle. Sewing himself up tonight is a lost cause. He finally decides a bandage, no matter how bloody it might become, will have to do.

He stands up, slowly because he doesn’t want to pass out from a head rush, when there’s a knock on the door. He groans a little too loudly at the sound of it. He doesn’t feel like talking to anyone tonight, especially in this condition, wearing a torn scrap of a shirt and blood trapped underneath his nails.

“Who is it?” he calls out harshly, wondering if maybe they’ll just leave if he sounds scary. The other scouts knew he didn’t like to be bothered, and wouldn’t have come unless there was an emergency. If it was Hange she would have barged in already, and he would have recognized Erwin’s heavy footsteps from down the hall. No, he knows who it is. He just wishes that he’s wrong.

“It- It’s me. Petra said you were hurt earlier and that it looked bad. I just wanted to make sure it was okay…” Your soft, hesitant voice trails off, and he knows how much courage it took for you to knock on his door.

What he doesn’t know is that there was no way you were falling asleep tonight without making sure Levi was okay, no matter how angry he would get at you for bothering him at night.

You’re bracing for that reaction when the door opens, but when your wide eyes meet his tired grey ones, you feel yourself melt and all the words in your head disappear. There’s only one fragment of a thought left, the fact that Levi’s bleeding, and a lot, at that. You don’t even wait for his permission to step inside, suddenly energized by anger and mumbling to yourself as you set down your supplies and rummage through them.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” he questions quietly. He tries to line his voice with steel like he always does, but the facade is fading with every passing minute.

“I have to clean out your wound, captain, before something festers. If you had told me about this, say, right when we got back, it would have been fine by now, but now I have to rush because you’re too proud to ask for help-” You still and silence yourself.

It was out of line to enter without permission, but this is something else all together. Caring too much is one thing, you know, but insubordination is not tolerated, especially not by Levi.

You pick up a clean needle and thin silk thread that you need to patch up the wound, while searching for the jar of boiled water you need to clean it out first. Alcohol would work too, and you can smell it in the air, but you can’t find the words to ask for it.

Levi’s hands are unusually still, you know because you always notice them, and it’s a stark contrast to the way you’re shaking right now. It’s strange, because you stitched up a handful of others earlier today, and you were completely fine. Even Gunther, who you had always thought was handsome and could make you blush with an off-hand smile, never incited this kind of reaction from you.

You’re silently praying that Levi doesn’t comment on the tremor, but since you’re about to dig a sharp point into his shoulder to tie the skin back together, it would be idiotic if he didn’t say something. You turn to look at him, but it feels like he’s not even there.

His head is hanging down, propped up by the single functional arm, as the other one continues to bleed. You know it’s painful and that he should be saying something, something that makes you stutter and stumble over your words like he always makes you, but he’s just silent.

“Well, get on with it then. If that’s really why you came here this late.” His voice makes you tremble even harder.

There’s so much you try hard at. You try to be the best soldier you can be, even though both you and your superiors know you weren’t meant for this. Sometimes you can fool your fellow soldiers, and the handful of people you can call your friends, and with a few years under your belt, it seems like it’s getting easier to live this life. But you know deep down that it’s not. The one person who always sees right through it is Levi, though.

It’s part of the reason why you’re such a damn mess around him, because there’s no reason to present a false veneer if he knows the truth. You’re not a real soldier, not a real fighter, and you’re more useful as a medic stitching people up than anything else.

And yet, it’s always him who saves you. Him, who makes sure that any threat in between you and the scout you’re trying to rescue from the brink of death is eliminated. Him, that keeps one eye on the target and one eye on your back just in case. And every time, every goddamn time you need to be rescued, he rescues you.

But now, with his head hanging low and any semblance of not knowing why he always saves you gone, it feels your chance to repay him has finally arrived. The shaking stops when you go to sit down near him. Maybe it’s the sudden rush of energy in your body, but you find yourself unbuttoning his shirt to remove whatever remains of the cloth.

His body tenses further, but he doesn’t stop you, and he doesn’t say anything. You’re as gentle and careful as you can be, and once you’re successful, you drop the mangled shirt on the floor. Taking the water, you pour it over the wound as Levi releases a soft hiss at the feeling, for which you’re apologizing before you can even realize the words have left your mouth. He doesn’t say anything, but his shoulder relaxing encourages you to keep going.

You take your time, trying to clean off all the blood you can. You think he’ll protest when you pick up his hands, and wash those too, but he doesn’t. It’s not until you run your own hand over his softly, squeezing the top of it because you don’t have any words to express the thoughts going through your mind, that he finally speaks up.

“Thank you.”

It’s so quiet, you could swear that you had imagined it. He doesn’t look up to meet your eyes like you wish he would, but a smile forces its way onto your face regardless. You focus on the hard part now; stitching up your captain and making sure your work doesn’t leave him with any scars. You focus on your technique, fingers working nimbly and mind focused on this, and for a short time, it doesn’t feel like you’re with your captain, your superior. It just feels like being there with Levi.

All the while, his brain is working overtime to figure out why you’re like this. Why you’re treating him so carefully and gently, when you have no reason to. He doesn’t pick favorites, and even if he did, you wouldn’t be anywhere near that list. You’re not the fastest, you’re not the most lethal, and in fact, he could count on one hand your titan kills and assists. You help people. You save people. But most of the time, you’re just recovering a half-dead soldier so that their body can be buried at home and not forced to remain out there, alone. You’re just there so that parents can have a grave to mourn at, instead of an empty tomb.

He doesn’t treat you better than anyone else, and most of the time assigns you more cleaning duties than the others. You always take it and never complain, something else that he always wonders about. He had come to the conclusion it was because he’s saved your life countless times, and the fact that he isn’t going to let up soon. So you take everything he gives you with a polite smile. And for some goddamn reason, he can’t get that smile out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. You don’t even know how you make him feel; like he’s special and that he deserves these attentions.

A particularly painful turn of the needle makes him flinch, and brings him back to reality. You’re apologizing again, murmuring how you’re almost done, but he doesn’t want you to leave yet. He lets his mind flicker over how you’re always apologizing, and how much he just wants to tell you that you don’t have to, not for anything. Not for having to come and save you, not for stitching him up, not for trying to fix him.

You let out a sharp breath once you finish, getting back up to fetch a dressing, but his hand grabs yours before you can get too far. Levi looks up, grey eyes full of an emotion you can’t exactly pinpoint, one you have never seen before from him.

“Will you stay a little longer?” And just like that, everything in the world seems to fall into place.

“Of course. Let me just wrap it up, first. I’ll stay as long as you want.” You’re surprised at yourself for finding the words so quickly, because your heart has never pounded so fast in your life. You fumble around, trying to find the right thing, hands shaking again, and you can’t seem to get them to stop.

You go back to Levi, wrapping the cloth around his shoulder and securing it around his arm, suddenly hyper aware of the feel of his skin. It’s softer than you had imagined it would be. Both of you sit in the silence for a while, your hand finding a place over his and rubbing soft circles on his knuckles with your thumb.

You want to say something, anything, but there aren’t any words that seem right. His fingers deftly work their way around yours, and you honestly wonder if he can hear your heartbeat or the blood rushing to your cheeks. It’s past midnight now, and you have a feeling dawn will be approaching before long.

“You should really sleep now. It won’t get better until you rest a little.” You’re speaking because his actions gave you a little bit of confidence, but he interprets it wrong almost immediately.

“Of course. You’d like to go now?”

“N-no! No, I just thought that, that you would be tired now. I can go if you want, I-”

“I don’t get much sleep anyways.” He doesn’t even mean to sound so dejected, but it comes out before he can stop himself. He’s spent too, too many nights laying awake, sleep ever-evading him, wondering how it might be to sleep besides you. Would he get some rest? Would he be able to close his eyes and not open them an hour later with a pounding chest? He can’t remember the last time he was able to fall asleep, and stay asleep. You don’t make any movement to get away, and he notices your hand twitch and wonders why.

You have to fight yourself internally to keep your hand down, and not wrap your arms around your captain as you process his words. Your heart feels strangely heavy at the thought of Levi laying awake, all alone, exhausted but unable to succumb to the ease of rest. He’s on guard, all the time, every minute of every day, and half the time he’s expending his energy on saving you.

You’re not confident, like some of the others. You never have been. But in this moment, you feel something rushing into your body and coursing through your veins, something close to confidence but slightly different. The feeling makes you release Levi’s hand and shed your sweater, and crawl into his bed. It’s almost exactly as you expected, and not nearly as soft or warm as your own. But you think about Levi sleeping soundly beside you, him peaceful and content, and it doesn’t matter how comfortable his bed is. You just want him to fall asleep.

He looks at you with a mix of emotions, surprise being mixed in with them. He hadn’t been expecting that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it.

You’re sitting under the covers now, waiting expectedly for something. A part of you fears that this wasn’t what he meant, or wanted, but your racing heart calms down a little at the sight of him coming in to get settled beside you. He releases a sigh when his shoulder hits the mattress, at ease finally, and so exhausted that every muscle in his body is about to give out.

He sleeps on his back, you note, before shifting your gaze to the ceiling quickly. You certainly don’t want him to notice that you’re staring, or that you keep fingering the soft sheets between your fingers to remind yourself this is real and really happening.

“Stop fidgeting.” His voice is quiet, and even, and stills you instantly. You finally lift your head to look at him, letting out a breath at how he looks. Eyes closed, almost peaceful, laying on his back with his hand resting right near you.

You’re not sure if it’s the confidence from earlier, or something new entirely, but you adjust the sheets to cover him more, pulling them and letting them rest on his chest. He doesn’t open his eyes, but you notice the way he jerks a little at the motion.

“Sorry, Levi,” you whisper, trying to remain as quiet as possible. You lay your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers and letting your own eyes close. You can hear his every breath, the scent of his skin taking over and clouding your mind as every sense slowly focused on one thing; him. “Let’s sleep now.”

#this is probably the first thing i've posted that is in canon and it makes no sense but i really liked writing this #me: i wanna write dark content #also me: writes angst with fluff and calls it a day #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan #aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

Hi, you're a very talented writer and your works are very beautiful. Can I request one where Levi's fem s/o does the ignore your boyfriend prank? Thank you so much and take care of yourself ❤️

author note :: thank youuu i’m glad you think that anon !! this isn’t good at all bc i’m just very sick and yeah,,, i’m sorry if this doesn’t live up to your expectations but i needed something to do and ended up finishing this. hmmm what is this is it fluff?? idk it’s captain levi and survey corps member reader though :-) requests are open so feel free to drop by if you’d like :D word count :: 3.4k

you should NOT be bothering levi as much as you are because he understands you need your own space to relax sometimes

but come on... you’ve been ignoring him for an unreasonable amount of time now??

and he’s not talking about groggy ignoring, it’s not the type you do when you’ve just awoken from a restless night’s sleep

no. you’re talking to everyone apart from him.

and it’s driving him up a literal wall

did he do something wrong???

has he made a mistake so large that you’re too scared to bring it up???

are you finally sick of him??

will you break up with him?

levi winces when thinking of that specific question

but he’s the type to silently keep his worries to himself as soon as he sees any indication of a bad omen

currently, he’s mentally preparing himself for you to break the news to him any day now

but little does he know you’ve just pulled a prank hoping for him to whine and complain a little

the point of this all is to elicit an out of character reaction

;-)

the idea came from historia at first

her playing such a foul trick on ymir didn’t go unnoticed and little by little ymir’s resolve crumbled away throughout the day

she went quite literally ballistic trying to get historia’s attention

and watching it all play out made you want to try it out with levi

you’d be a FOOL not to

WELL!!!! the fun part about this is that you’re a bit actually, no. a lot, more stubborn than historia!!!

and instead of committing to the prank for a day you’ve chosen to see how far you can stretch this out

if you have to drag it out for two days so be it

you have good reason to

levi isn’t the most affectionate man, your relationship is kept a total secret from all of the cadets

meaning pda never happens

and,,, listen you would love to kiss him before expeditions without having to drag him behind your horse for cover

to be frank the back of a horse does smell rather unpleasant and it’s not as romantic as you’d like for it to be

honestly you’d rather have everyone stare and gawk in awe watching the two of you make out

seeing them put two and two together realizing what it is that’s going on between you and the captain would be hilarious

especially since reiner said last week he could never picture levi dating anyone

AND!! he even had the audacity to say he thinks someone like him would never date someone on the team

is it really not that obvious to them?

do you and levi lack chemistry?

silently fuming you walk away and even then none of the cadets get the hint

but you do think mikasa has known for a while. her senses are sharp and whenever she sees you and levi together she makes a u-turn heading in the opposite direction away from the both of you

but even if she does she isn’t going to tell anyone about it unless she’s directly asked so it’s not like the cat will be out of the bag any time soon

it’s silly getting worked up over reiner’s comments but it’s kinda disheartening having the relationship be kept a secret

and you thought even if it was there would be at least a hint of a rumour, like it should be decently obvious it’s been months since the two of you began to see each other

ESSENTIALLY, this is your plan to “accidentally” let the cadets figure it out

eventually levi will have to get restless enough to do something bold

that’s what you think will happen

but then the reality of the situation hits you at the end of the first day

he seems to be dealing with it just fine ?????

after giving him the cold shoulder he shows no signs of returning at all

...

WHY IS IT NOT WORKING???

mayday mayday mayday....?!??

red alert....?!??

you are about to bang your head against a wall he’s the one who’s meant to be suffering over this not you

but again, you’re stubborn and won’t give in easily

by the end of day one levi has approached you two times

two...

each time you’ve given him completely blunt responses

it’s frustrating you that he’s just dealing with it as it comes

and when he does speak to you it’s not to ask what’s wrong

the first time he approaches you is to ask if you’ve seen petra around which makes your blood boil a little because everyone knows petra has a big, fat, MASSIVE crush on him

you know he won’t ever reciprocate or anything for a number of reasons but you can’t help but feel annoyed

the second time he speaks to you is to ask if you’re willing to help hange out with some paperwork

??????

he doesn’t even look interested in asking you what’s wrong

honestly you would drop this plan but you’re in too deep now

may as well keep it up.

the second day rolls around and it’s not your best day

you burn breakfast

trip over a broom and hit your leg rather hard against the dining table

spill an ENTIRE cup of tea over hange’s important documents

and you haven’t slept a wink after overthinking your relationship status for hours on end

maybe this prank wasn’t a great idea

you’re hunched over the documents close to tears not knowing how you can save them now

there’s nothing you can do and even though you know hange will be okay with it, (they’ve never cared much for paperwork) you just don’t want to inconvenience them with this mess

“y/n?”

looking up you see eren standing by the doorway of the kitchen watching with a humored expression as you place paper towels over the disaster you’ve created

“captain’s looking for you.”

perking up a little internally you make sure to remain as disinterested as possible on the surface

“what does he need?”

“i don’t know he didn’t say.”

“tell him i’m busy.”

and that’s all that occurs during day two

you pass by levi and occasionally his gaze flicks to you but he doesn’t take any action to address you in public or in private

you end up going to bed even more disappointed than you were the first night

the prank definitely isn’t going the way you want and instead of it leading to levi cornering you in front of everyone and dipping you into a dreamy swoon worthy kiss it’s led to you developing doubts.

many doubts.

but you aren’t giving up any time soon, now more than ever you want to be reassured levi even wants this relationship because he’s not acting like it

it’s admittedly a bitch move on your part for pulling this prank in the first place but you expected him to ask how you were doing it has been forty-eight hours after all

if the roles were reversed you’d force him into a room until he would tell you

so you can’t explain his weird behaviour at all

maybe he doesn’t like you as much as you think

that thought makes your eyes sting at the corners

he’s always been reserved and a little lost when it comes to opening up but you’re beginning to lose hope if he finds it this hard to ask if you’re okay

drifting off to sleep before you can wallow in your thoughts any more you wish tomorrow is better

it’s the third day and to say you’re exhausted is an understatement

midday and you’re training in the sweltering heat

the lack of sleep you’ve had recently paired with your stress isn’t doing you any good

a little dizzy you attempt to hold onto a nearby tree for stability but end up somehow missing the mark by a MILE??

tumbling to the floor painfully you hiss at the collision and rub the back of your head which is now sore

footsteps approach you in a hurry and for the first time in days you’re face to face with levi

“you okay?” concern is very much evident in his voice and that eases your nerves

without you even responding he’s turning you around just to check in case

nodding wordlessly you try to get to your feet when you feel a shift.

your ankle without warning gives out on you and you’re sent crashing back down to the ground

closing your eyes and bracing for impact you’re pleasantly surprised when levi catches you by the waist

your weight is leaning onto him and you’re looking down to the floor

hange is yelling from across the courtyard telling levi to drop you off at the infirmary but he doesn’t need to be told that

his instincts do the talking for him and he’s already slung you over his shoulder and begins carrying you towards the base

“levi. put. me. down. this position’s embarrassing.”

he doesn’t respond and you can hear sasha and connie cackling at the compromising situation

swatting his back you’re huffing and puffing yet he’s still ignoring you

you’re being given the silent treatment but you suppose you do deserve it

sighing you deal with the stares you receive on the way there

this is levi and at this point nothing is seen as abnormal when he does it

you can’t really look behind you to see levi’s expression either but when a cadet walks past and mouths “y/n, what the hell did you do??” you know you’re in for it

eventually he reaches the infirmary and without even letting you get a word in he plops you onto the bed albeit a little rough

“what’s with the cold shoulder?” he places both his arms by your sides leaving you trapped

“i-”

“if you want to break up you can just say that instead of beating around the bush.”

you’re stunned by the harsh tone of his voice, he doesn’t have his usual soft timbre and your eyes glaze over in defense

“you want to break up?” your question hangs in the air

chewing at your lip anxiously you know if you bite any harder you’ll draw blood

“i don’t care. if that’s what you want, sure.”

oh.

oh no.

this isn’t going how you planned

nails digging into the flesh of your palms you hang your head low

he doesn’t care at all

if that’s what you want????? really???? that’s his response??? he won’t even fight for you???

it’s silent as he bandages your ankle and you’re burning in a mix of embarrassment and fury.

“i was just pull-” choking up in the middle of your sentence you feel yourself automatically frown

“i was just pulling a prank on you. you know how historia did with ym-“

really you’ve always been terrible at holding back your tears and a few spill over the edge and you sob

why are you like this why why why why why?????

yeah,, you get why everyone calls you overly emotional from time to time but really you swear you feel your heart shatter a little at how levi’s acting

shielding your eyes with your sleeve you cower away from him

lord have mercy.

levi wants to curl up into a ball and die from the wave of embarrassment that hits him

a prank.

a trick.

and he didn’t catch on.

and now you’re crying.

because he thought acting tough and cold in case you wanted to break up with him made perfectly logical sense???

spoiler : it didn’t make any sense...

but now it’s made him look like he hates you??

but he doesn’t hate you

no, no, no. not at all.

he could never hate you.

you’re always willing to help anyone out, you’re genuine, always say sorry even when you don’t need to, unapologetically yourself at any moment, you’re fearful yet push it all aside to be courageous and most of all he loves your little hobbies because who in their right mind actually enjoys gardening??

he’s convinced people who say they like gardening are looking for something unique to make themselves stand out but really you enjoy it and it’s quite cute

ok, ok no more getting side tracked whilst talking about your love for plants

he could name so much more he admires about you but he’d be here all day

“i tried to talk to you yesterday but after you refused i thought you hated me and wanted to break up. that’s why i was acting like that just now.” he slowly tries to explain his point to you

“i know i’m hard to love so when you began to ignore me out of the blue i figured you didn’t want to-”

cutting him off without giving him the option of finishing his sentence you’re wide eyed in horror. he was NOT meant to interpret the prank this way.

“levi?? for as long as i’m alive i’ll never get tired of you. i promise.” his heart rate shoots and the intense magnetism between the two of you becomes stronger by the second

you pause for a second gathering yourself.

“and i’m sorry i should’ve thought about how you’d feel. the reason i did it was stupid.”

levi kneels by the bed and takes your hand in his, he graciously lifts the sleeve of your uniform and ducks down to press a soft kiss onto your wrist.

your heart flutters seeing him be so careful and gentle with you and bashfully you look away

guilt overwhelms you at that moment because you really are horrible for putting him through all of that.

levi cares for you he does

he may be silent about it and not the best at being public with it but you know how he feels.

you feel it in the way he looks at you

you feel it when he helps you mount your horse

you feel it when he double checks your harnesses before expeditions

you feel it when he tends to your injuries

and, you definitely feel it right now when it sinks in that he was acting like he hated you just so you wouldn’t feel bad if you really did want to break up with him.

he’s always been bad at picking up on hints and cues so you now understand why he interpreted it as you wanting nothing to do with him

of course he wouldn’t ask how you were if it looked like you wanted to skin him alive

“what was the reason for the prank?” he inquisitively asks genuinely wanting to know what it is he can do for you

“i...” you’re wandering off and suddenly don’t want to tell him

“i wanted you to kiss me.” you whisper in a rush

he cocks an eyebrow up even more lost. “i kiss you all the time?”

“i mean, in front of everyone else.”

he blinks and his mouth forms into an “O” shape

it’s a little awkward now

he doesn’t bring it up again so you assume he doesn’t like the idea of letting everyone know just yet

and that’s okay!! you respect that!!

after all, you can’t get mad at him for it, it’s the best choice.

you don’t want people to accuse him of having bias towards you and it’ll probably upset petra and hinder her performance if her crush just suddenly starts dating out of nowhere

your gaze is back on levi and he’s now double checking the bandage on your ankle after tending to it

“you can’t walk for a few weeks.” he tsks

“be careful next time.” he’s always been blunt when he does show he cares and you warmly smile after not talking to him in days.

you feel the need to apologize again

“to make it clear i really am sorry, i should have thought more about you.”

he scoffs and rolls his eyes

“i’m overjoyed that my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t want to break up with me. now, stop moping around about it i’m over it.”

he scoops you up effortlessly and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“y/n, for the record, i’ll work on not jumping to the worst case scenario first.”

you love this aspect of your relationship

being able to understand how your flaws impact the other and choosing to make changes or adjustments

it’s sweet and you must be smiling like an idiot when thinking of it because levi blows a puff of air onto your forehead knocking you out of your daydream

feeling a little less light headed than before you notice he’s walking back out towards the courtyard

why is he doing that...?

“you’re walking in the wrong direction?”

“no i’m not.” he replies with a smug grin

oh my god

no he isn’t

oh my god

is he???

you’re bright pink in the face as you turn to look at him panicking when you hear hange’s group returning

eren can be heard arguing with jean as per usual and now you’re smacking levi’s chest even harder

“you don’t have to do this no, no, no. it’s okay really.” it’s funny how you’re begging him not to do what you’ve been waiting on for three days

but you really don’t want him to feel like he has to do this

as if he’s read your mind he replies. “i’m doing this with my own free will.”

he gives you one last grin and pushes you up against the wall, your back is against the cold yet solid surface and you tense up

oh god. it’s happening he’s diving down and it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion.

gradually you feel the familiar feeling of your heart jumping out of your chest

both of your lips mould together, he’s hoisting you up again preventing you from slipping away. hungry hands grip at your thighs and a knowing smile twitches across his mouth.

nipping at his bottom lip he groans and you nearly forget why it is he’s kissing you

that is until you hear a SCREAM from your right

“eren what the fuck are you yelling at?” jean’s voice can be heard scowling in the distance but you’re too distracted by levi’s mouth to care

eren must be speechless because nothing is heard until jean reaches the scene

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“WHERE IS REINER??? HE’S NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS.”

“you’re both overreacting.” mikasa makes her appearance and you’re not sure if she’s seen you and levi yet because your eyes fluttered shut long ago

“Y/N AND THE CAPTAIN????? WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE MIKASA??” eren’s voice sounds so distressed you guess you’re right for assuming he may have had a crush on you at some point

“it was obvious, i don’t know how no one else knew.”

finally levi pulls away and you’re panting practically gasping for any traces of air

“what you looking at brats?” levi snaps in their direction and mikasa nonchalantly shrugs and walks away

jean and eren however, dash away at LIGHTENING speed probably on their way to let everyone else know of the shocking new development

levi pecks your forehead and you nudge your nose against his.

since that day you and levi have been able to get away with a lot more pda

you can hold his hand and stare at how pretty your hands look laced together

you can nuzzle your face into his neck without any questions

you can loop arms with him and even if he acts like he doesn’t enjoy it he genuinely does like walking around with you latching onto his bicep

although he still prefers the privacy of his office he’s more than happy to give in once in a while

and at the end of the day you’re ecstatic because there’s no more kissing behind your horse!!!

GONE ARE THOSE DAYS

wooHOO

honestly, you’re over the moon about it

and so is levi

:-)

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if this is too specific but can I request for a smut where jaehyun despises y/n for a reason that she acts all innocent and kind infront of everybody when y/n is actually a brat and he wants to see it himself by giving her a rough sex (almost like a hate sex as well?) I really love your works and I spend most of my time reading them, this is my first request ever! thank you if you do ❤️

Pairing: friend!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: hate sex, unprotected sex, teasing, choking, degradation? sort of?

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: thank you for this request, hope you like it :)

“Isn’t Y/N so sweet?” Jungwoo sighed, watching you walk away towards the buffet to get him some more cocktail shrimp.

Jaehyun just watched you, eyes narrowed. He knew better, knew your little act was all for show. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” Mark laughed loudly, “she’s the sweetest person we know, right Taeyong?”

Taeyong nodded, before launching into his favorite story about how you had taken care of him when he was sick once and refused to go to the doctor, while Taeil piped up about a story where you had given a homeless man your umbrella. Everyone else nodded in agreement, your entire friend group, save Jaehyun, agreeing that you were an angel on earth.

Jaehyun, however, knew what you were capable of. He was good friends with Yuta, your ex, and Yuta had told him everything about how bratty you were, how you liked to push his buttons, how you would misbehave on purpose in order to get punished. He hated this little act you displayed to everyone, disgusted that all of your friends believed you were some sweet, innocent person, when in reality, you were anything but.

---

“Here, Jaehyun, give it to me, I’ll wash it for you.”

You were all at Haechan’s house party, and someone had spilled their drink on Jaehyun’s shirt. At your offer, he only shook his head, mouth downturned.

“No thanks,” he said curtly.

“It’s no bother, really, best to get it out right away,” you insisted, holding out your hand to him, “come on, let’s go upstairs and get it cleaned.”

“No really, I’m good,” Jaehyun was positively cold now, his voice like ice.

“What’s the problem? Just go with her! She’s offering to clean your shirt!” Johnny was already a few beers in and unnecessarily loud, which made Jaehyun flinch.

“You can use my room,” Haechan offered, practically picking up Jaehyun and pushing him towards you. Reluctantly he got up, sighing heavily, and followed you up the stairs.

You led Jaehyun into Haechan’s room and closed the door behind him. “Okay, give me your shirt,” you said sweetly, “I can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

Jaehyun could feel his blood boiling, seeing your bratty attitude starting to come out as you stared at him cheekily. He bit the inside of his cheek, arousal and anger mixing together inside of him.

“Well?” you questioned, hands on your hips, “I won’t be able to wash it if you’re wearing it, although I guess I could try…” smirking you reached towards his shirt, but before you could make contact he grabbed your wrist.

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” he said, his voice harsh, “I’m calling the shots now.”

He squeezed your wrist harder, making you wince, but riling him up was fun, so you continued. “Is that so?” you asked, eyeing him up and down as he stared at you, “and what shots will you be calling, exactly?”

“You act all sweet and innocent in front of our friends, but really you’re just a fucking brat, am I right?”

You laughed. “Who told you that? I bet it was Nakamoto Yuta,” you scoffed, “he could never keep his mouth shut.”

“So is it true?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“I intend to.”

He came at you then, pushing you onto the bed and then caging you in with his body. You were loving it, but still you felt the need to push his buttons.

“Took you long enough to get me into this position,” you teased, “Yuta had me underneath him an hour after we met.”

Clearly he didn’t like being compared to anyone, let alone one of his closest friends. The vein in his forehead throbbed, his mouth a thin line, as he leaned his face closer to yours.

“Keep it up, baby, and you’ll get what you deserve,” he growled, breath fanning your face.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby,” you continued to tease, adrenaline rushing through you at the prospect of what he might do to you. You had to admit, Jeong Jaehyun intrigued you, and you were dying to know if he was really packing down there like you suspected he was.

“Watch it,” he warned, bringing his knee between your legs and rubbing it against your pussy. You inhaled sharply at the friction, and his eyes grew dark as he watched your reaction. “I’m gonna fuck you right now, I’m gonna make you scream my name and forget your own.”

He was making you hot, arousal coursing through your body and turning your limbs to jelly. You were powerless as he started to kiss your neck, still rubbing his knee against your crotch, making you whimper.

“Not so bratty now, are you,” he smirked, sucking harshly on your skin and definitely leaving marks. You squirmed as he continued to rub his knee into you, but you needed more.

“Is that the best you can do?” you breathed, trying to affect a breezy air but it was getting more and more difficult with the way he was teasing you.

He growled against your neck, before he practically ripped your clothes off of you, then pulled off his own. Once you were both naked he leaned back on his knees to admire you, lying bare beneath him. Taking his cock in his hand he pumped it slowly, watching you as you watched him, salivating at the sight.

“I’ll show you what I can do,” he said, his voice low and raspy. You pretended to laugh, and it had the desired effect. His face went dark, eyes hard, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed. “I’ll show you what a brat like you deserves.”

He entered you, hard and fast, no preamble, no sweet words and soft movements to coax your hole to open up for him, just his rock hard cock ramming into your pussy. You fought the scream that wanted to tear out of your throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but that became increasingly hard when he started to build up a pace, fucking into you so hard the bed creaked loudly.

“You wanna piss me off, make me angry, well this is what you get,” he said, voice dripping with disdain. You could hear the anger in it, feel it in his movements, in the way he squeezed your wrists as he held you down. His hips were relentless, pounding into you, his cock so big and so deep inside you it felt like he was rearranging your insides. You wanted to moan, whimper, cry his name, all of it, but you fought it, keeping as quiet as you could to rile him up even more.

“Tell me you like it, you fucking brat,” he hissed, letting go of your arms so he could squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples. Again you fought the urge to cry out as he pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds. You clutched the sheets instead, feeling an orgasm coming on and trying your hardest not to make it obvious. But your body gave you away, your pussy clenching around him, thighs shaking as he pulled an orgasm out of you so strong you could see stars in your vision.

“You don’t have to tell me, your pussy said it all,” he smirked, still railing you, tears pricking your eyes from oversensitivity but still he kept going.

“Still wasn’t good enough for me,” you lied, trying to keep your breathing even, “I’ve had better.”

He tried to look unaffected by your words, but his hips stuttered, giving him away. Without a word he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you up roughly by your hips so your pussy was opened up to him. You braced yourself on your elbows as he plunged into you again, the force of his thrust almost knocking you face first onto the mattress.

“You’re really gonna get it now, no more holding back,” he growled, and you wondered what was in store for you if that’s what he was like when he was holding back. This time, you couldn’t stifle your screams as he pounded you so hard and so deep he was reaching places you didn’t think anyone could reach. High-pitched whines and moans left your mouth as he tore you apart, as his cock pumped in and out of you making you come again and again, losing track of the orgasms you were having, his hands rough on your body.

“That’s it, baby,” he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you up to him, whispering in your ear, “keep screaming like that, show everyone what a bratty little fuck you are.”

You’d lost yourself to him at this point, unable to resist anymore, and so you did as you were told, screaming until your voice was hoarse.

“Scream my name, baby, tell everyone who’s fucking the brattiness out of you,” he squeezed his hand around your neck, restricting your airflow, and it made you so aroused you gushed around his cock.

“Jaehyun!” you choked out, “yes! Fuck me, Jaehyun!”

He came with a deep, guttural groan, squeezing your neck even harder, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach to bring you even closer to him and push his cock even deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all of your limbs convulsing as you came again, your mouth falling slack as the lack of air started to take its toll. Just before you blacked out completely he released his hold on you, and you fell limply onto the bed.

You were slowly coming back to yourself when you felt Jaehyun stroking your arm. You turned around to look at him and he was already dressed, sitting on the bed beside you.

“Oh good, you’re still alive,” he said it jokingly, with a smile, but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Did you prove your point? Am I really a brat?” you asked, your brain still hazy from the mind-blowing sex you’d just had.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, you’re really a brat,” he nodded, “but to be honest, I kinda like it.”

---

Thanks for 1.4k :)

[REQUESTS CLOSED]

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Yandere adult trio when you actually manage to land a hit on them Random drabble I came up with- needed to spoil yall since ive been gone- so ive got three drabbles Lemme know if you want Uvogin and/or Phinks- or if you want a nsfw version of this CW: blood, knives, stabbing

Illumi

Weeks have passed since you were taken from your comparably mundane life. You assume it's been weeks- it could have been longer. For the first time, you have woken up while man who has taken you is not home. He manages to stay at home until you're exhausted- since you won't sleep around him. That way once you collapse from exhaustion- he can escape to do whatever a man like him does.

It's been two hours since you have been stuffed into a kitchen cabinet. Your legs are cramping- and there's a sharp pain in your lower back. There's no way your body can handle being in this cramped position for another hour- hopefully he gets home soon. Or hopefully he never comes back.

You hear the unfamiliar sound of the front door opening, only after the multiple locks have been unlocked.

Click. Click. Click. His shoes tap on the cold floor with a methodical slowness. You hear him walk towards the room you are usually sleeping in when he gets home.

There are no more clicking of his shoes, just an eery silence hanging in the air. Your chance, this is it. You've learned how to silence your own actions- you had to in order to live with this emotionless monster.

Once you're standing upright, you sprint at him- knife in hand. He's quick but he also doesn't expect you to be just as fast. He moves so quickly that you can barely see him, but you drop to the ground, sliding against the wood floor. Your knife slices through his ankle, knowing that it could render his leg useless. There's no sound as you lay on the cold floor, a stand still between you and your captor.

"Interesting." His word is deafening. "I did not expect that of you." Illumi's voice remains calm. It remains calm as well when he grabs you by your arm, grip almost bone shattering. "It seems I have not trained you well." He says as if you're a dog.

You continue swinging, but it seems that Illumi doesn't even care about the damage you're inflicting on him. Cuts that are an inch deep- at least three of them. You glance down at his foot, seeing his pant leg soaked in blood, leaving a trail of it behind him as he drags you into the unknown. There's no humanly way possible he could be walking on a severed Achilles tendon. He should have bled out by now, or at least enough to go weak in the knees. The only answer is... that he's not human.

Your body goes limp- all fight draining out of you once you realize that there's no use. Illumi notices this, and pauses. "I'm glad you've come to your sense y/n." He bends down to your face, letting go of you arm and you fall against the floor. "It doesn't change what you've done." He points to his ankle, "It will take at least a week for my ankle to heal- my Achilles is completely severed."

Your eyes travel to the floor as he continues speaking, his words beginning to sound like fuzz. You snap back when a strong hand grabs your chin and tilts your face towards his. It almost feels as if his fingers are going to go through your jaw bones. "I expect you to look at me when I'm speaking."

Hisoka

He expects you to perform wifely duties. Well, mainly duties that take care of him. The eggs in the pan sizzle next to some greasy bacon. You're making breakfast like Hisoka told you to. He probably won't eat the food you make him, he just enjoys watching you make it.

The buzzing of the oven fan and churning of the coffee machine almost make it seem as if this were a normal situation. It's not though- the both of you know that.

It has taken you weeks to master the art of being unassuming. You've practiced doing something but showing no signs of that actions beforehand. Such as if you're going to pick something up that you don't look around for it first.

The tip tap of the magician's heels alert you to just how close he is to yo. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, "You look so good today y/n." He nuzzles his nose into your neck, inhaling your aroma, as if he can't get enough of it.

You pull a coffee mug from the cabinet above the oven, ignoring the man wrapped around you. The cup clinks against the counter and your heart jumps when you hear the coffee pot finish brewing.

The man releases you, perfectly on cue. You grab the coffee pot, spinning around and throwing the boiling liquid on Hisoka. You then leap forward while he's momentarily stunned, and bring the glass pot down on his head. It shatters and you take the chance to lunge for the door. You're stopped short when the man grabs your ankle and you face plant into the tile floor.

Your entire face will definitely be bruised in a few hours. Your head spins but the dizziness quickly turns into an excruciating pain all over your head. You crane your head backwards and look at him- somehow he just seems stronger. His skin is burned badly and is extremely red. He must have third degree burns. But he's smiling at you with crazed eyes. No, lustful eyes.

You yell when he pulls you to him by your leg. He straddles you and punches you in the neck. You yell turns into a heavy cough which turns into gasping noises. There will be no talking for the next few weeks.

"You're so cute when you defend yourself." You stare up at his untouched face and fear shoots down your spine. He leans down and licks a strip up the side of your face and brings his lips to your ear. "It only turns me on even more."

Chrollo

It’s as if the place you’re being held has no electricity. You’ve flicked on and off the light switches around the house but nothing ever happens. The windows are boarded up and no matter what you do- you can’t rip the boards away that are nailed into the window. Despite this extremely dark, and cold home, all of the furniture is quite nice. The bed fit for a king, soft and you just sink into it- which is where you spend most of your time since it’s the only place you can catch a fleeting sense of warmth.

The warm bed doesn’t compensate for the fact that you’ve been kidnapped by a man that insists on your affection and your quality time. He leaves every night- and it’s simply too dark to try and find keys for the door. There was only one way you will be able to escape- surprise attack him the moment he gets home and run out the door. You’ve tried to attack him before but your punches are futile against the tall man. He can just grab your wrists and throw you in the bedroom- locking it until you stop ‘throwing a tantrum’. As he puts.

There’s no better place to attack him then at the front door- before he gets the chance to defend himself. Though your fists obviously hold no power against this man- you’ll have to find something to hit him with. For hours before he comes home (according to your biological clock), you scamper around the house, checking every corner of it for something sturdy that you can pick up. Eventually you find a set of handcuffs. While they’re not ideal- they have heft and a whack to the face would leave any normal person reeling.

If your natural sense of time is correct, you only have a few minutes before he comes home. You stand next to the door and brace yourself- hoping that your reaction time is as good as you think it is.

You hear the footsteps down what you assume is a hall to this apartment. They stop in front of the door and your heart begins to pound. Each lock clicking is deafening in the quiet apartment. The door opens with confidence and you take your chance. With a wide swing of your arm you nail him in the face. The sound of the metal against skin makes you cringe but there’s no time to waste. You leap out beside him, sprinting down the pitch black hall as fast as you can. When hands grab your waist gently you screech, fighting his grip. As gentle as he’s being you still can’t escape him.

He brings your back against his chest, and he wraps one arm around your arms and torso, preventing you from hitting him. His other arm lays loosely around your waist. “You’re very resourceful y/n.” He purrs in your ear. “Thank you for trying your best and not holding back.” You continue squirming in his grasp but know what your fate is when he says, “Though it’s quite unattractive for a girl to be so feisty.”

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere hisoka #yandere hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #chrollo lucilfer #illumi zoldyck #hisoka morrow #hxh #hunterxhunter #yandere #drabble #drabbles

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vexillumalbum · 3 years

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MLQC boys being interrupted while having sex w/Reader

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory.

All I want to say is that I wrote it long ago so there might be some mistakes. Also please bear in mind that English is not my native language. Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy!

NSFW below!

Gavin

The orange rays of the setting sun warmed the naked skin of your back pleasantly from behind the windows. Your boyfriend's white button-up casually framed your waist, barely clinging to your forearms, previously sliding off your shoulders. You had to hold it with your hands to keep it from sliding completely off.

In fact, in that position, Gavin had a perfect view of your bare curves, with the shirt or without it.

He was lying on his back facing you, propped up on pillows with his arms behind his head. His watchful gaze never left your body, even for a moment. His amber eyes scanned your figure, gliding over your perky breasts, smooth skin glazed in orange and silky strands of hair dancing near your neck and collarbones with your every move.

He licked his lips.

“Come here.” It wasn’t an order, but also not a plea. It sounded more like a request of a man so in love with his girl that he couldn’t bear not touching her anymore.

You giggled - and Gavin could’ve sworn it was the prettiest sound in the whole universe - before wrapping your fingers around his outstretched hand, letting yourself be guided to his solid body.

Minutes later you were a moaning mess, your hips pinned to the mattress by two calloused hands, the devilish sounds coming from between your legs mixing with heavenly whimpers of your boyfriend’s name that were leaving your bruised lips.

The grip you had on Gavin’s hair tightened when he sucked on your clit in time with his fingers working magic inside your heat. In response you heard a growl as his hips started assaulting the mattress even faster. The beast has been awoken

Tingling on your skin came as a warning for the pleasure that was supposed to arrive next. Your muscles were squeezing Gavin’s fingers hard and he couldn’t wait for his cock to be enveloped by your wet warmth next. Heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping white sheets, head thrown back with parted lips and ragged breath and—

Thump thump thump

“Are you guys okay in there?!” Minor’s concerned voice sounded from outside of the bedroom right after knocking. It startled you to the point where you jumped up, covering your bare figure with anything you could reach for, even though you were sure the doors were closed and the intruder wasn’t able to come inside the room. “I’ve heard some weird noises and I thought I’d check on you! You know, better safe than sorry!”

Gavin immediately looked over you, checking if you were alright, before turning his head to the door with a look that could kill. He palmed himself through his boxers, his erection still evident and painful.

“We’re alright! Thanks, Minor.” After a brief moment of silence you managed to say, not knowing if you should laugh or cry or maybe both. You heard a quiet “okay” and some shuffling - the intruder left the area.

In a moment of passion both you and Gavin had forgotten that Minor was temporarily living in your apartment due to AC disfunction at his place. He wasn’t a perfect roommate but at the same his presence wasn’t overbearing and you didn’t have any complaints… up until now.

“I’ll beat him up.” Through clenched teeth Gavin’s voice was low as he was putting on some shorts he took out of the drawers, and he now resembled the Super-Scary-Officer-Gavin more than Your-Loving-And-Doting-Boyfriend-Gavin.

“Don’t be so harsh on him. He was concerned.” You giggled only to be met with a doubting look from your boyfriend. “As he said, better safe than sorry.”

“I’ll give him something to be sorry about.” Poor Minor

Victor

The last few weeks have been pure torture. You were very open about how much you hated these business trips that both you and Victor had to take all the time to different places in the world. Your boyfriend was less outspoken, however the days of longing were taking its toll on him as much as on you. Sleepless nights, lonely dinners, unfulfilled lust…

Therefore, when there were no meetings, reports and proposals to write or filming sites to visit on the horizon, you jumped almost literally at the opportunity and took Victor to the wellness center.

It was a pleasant evening, the sun had recently set, but the heat was still there, aligned from time to time by the cool breeze. The white bathrobe your only cover as you and Victor relaxed on the private terrace of the apartment, with the sound of the bubbling jacuzzi in the background.

Sitting in his lap, your boyfriend was caressing your bare thigh with one of his hands, while the other was stroking your hair. It was an intimate moment shared between two lovers finally reunited and ready to spend some much needed relaxing time together.

Until…

It started as an innocent kiss between sips of fine dry wine selected by Victor himself.

He had you almost fully naked on his lap, with your robe slipping down your back, threading fingers in your silky strands and tasting your lips - which he had to admit - were even tastier than his favorite crimson beverage.

You were determined to get him naked, to free these gorgeous muscles from beneath the soft robe. With your nails scraping his skin lightly you were revealing more and more of his toned body earning sweet sighs from Victor as a reward.

His skilled fingers moved from your hair to kneading your butt, making your already wet pussy to rub on his clothed hard length. The added friction was like a cherry on top of the whole make out session but you didn’t want to stop there. Why would you settle for just a cake when you can have a full four course meal, right?

“Victor, I need it, please.” You begged when he didn’t want to give you what you wanted well knowing what was it that you desired.

“What is it, babygirl?” His question was whispered into the damp skin of your neck where Victor was leaving love bites. “Tell me what you need. You know I’ll give you everything.” He sounded so seductive, his low voice was making you shiver and you were sure your pussy was getting wetter and wetter with every word he said. “Just say it.”

“You.” You crumbled. “I want your cock. Please.”

He fulfilled his promise a few seconds later when you felt his girth stretching you out in the best way possible. Victor gripped your hips and with a look that was telling you to prepare for a ride, he started thrusting up while roughly bringing you down on his cock over and over.

You gripped his shoulders with one hand while the other was clamped over your mouth to make sure no-one could hear the moans your boyfriend was bringing out of you.

So close, you were co close, and when his thumb pressed on your clit, you could swear you saw stars and—

Bzzt bzzt bzzt

You jumped at the sudden sound, fear taking place of lust and passion. With a quick look to the side you saw that Victor’s phone was ringing and the caller’s ID was “Financial Director”. Thinking it was important you exited his lap, sliding to the next chair.

A low growl escaped him when you pulled away, his member still as hard as ever. His furrowed brows were the indicator of how much he didn’t like what you did, but you only smiled to him sheepishly and gestured to his phone.

A part of him was impressed of how much you valued his work and that you knew how important it was. Yet, the other part was furious that your love making fucking got interrupted.

He took a second or two or more who knows if he stopped time to admire your rosy cheeks and bruised lips and how you were panting after minutes of passion, before picking up his phone from the table and answering the call.

“Be quick.” The tone of his voice so much different than when he was talking to you, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched - he was mad. But that didn’t stop him from giving you a look that you could only describe one way: I’m not done with you yet.

Shaw

At times like this, you were immensely grateful for the almost deafening music that could be heard in the Live House all the time.

Usually, it annoyed you that the rumble from the speakers drowned out any other noises - like when you were talking to others, but now you liked that you had the freedom to moan as Shaw's hips were pounding into you to the rhythm of the club song.

Hands clutching his muscular arms, head tilted back repeatedly hitting the wall behind you, you were braced for a wild ride. Your boyfriend's hands tightly squeezing your ass supporting your weight, his hot lips nibbling at your neck marking you in every place he had access to, his cock driving into you with a reckless abandon.

And all of this caused by your short dress that showed a little too much skin in Shaw’s opinion (and he would never have thought that something like “too much skin showing” would be a problem for him but seeing every guy in the club eyeing you had his blood boiling) and your teasing ways.

During the break between songs, when Shaw had a chance to rehydrate himself for another hour on stage, your boyfriend decided to satisfy a different type of thirst. For your pussy

Sex with Shaw was always fun and wild and everything you ever wanted. But it was the best when he was hot and bothered and when envy was seeping through his body like a venom making him see red.

To be honest, you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your wrist right after exiting the stage and pulled you into the back room. You weren’t surprised when he pinned you to the wall, his lips already marking your collarbone as his hands were skillfully pushing your panties aside. You weren’t surprised when he unzipped his pants and pushed them down, freeing his hard cock.

And you sure as hell weren’t surprised when he slid into you with one sharp thrust while sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Tell me,” he panted in between the thrusts while his tongue was exploring your neck. “Do you enjoy making me jealous? Do you think it’s funny or something?”

As you were able to only whimper and moan, you didn’t respond. Of course you were enjoying making him jealous once in a while, especially when you were rewarded with his hips snapping into your in the back room of Live House.

“Answer. Me.” You swore he wanted to kill you with how intensely he was impaling you on his cock.

“Yes! Yes oh god yes!” You managed to choke out right before his fingers pinched your clit. Loud scream elected from your throat and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk Shaw was having plastered to his handsome face.

“Let me make this clear, baby.” He slowed a little as he leaned into you to have his mouth right next to your ear. “You are mine. Only mine.”

You wanted to respond. Say something, anything, but then—

“Shaw! We’re going back on the stage!”

Adam’s voice broke through the music and your pants along with a few pound knocks. You jumped at the sudden intruder, your eyes wide and lips parted.

Shaw on the other hand was totally unfazed when he started thrusting into you with a full speed again. And again. And again. And again.

He didn’t even say anything back, he just went straight back into fucking your brains out.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He murmured into your sweaty skin when he saw how startled you were. “So focus on me and only me.”

Lucien

You liked surprising your boyfriend. For example when you visited him at the university with some tasty lunch and a big smile plastered to your face, or when you learned how to brew tea so you could make him the best beverages when he was particularly stressed with work, or when you memorized all scientific names of his favorite butterflies to feel closer to him through joined hobby…

Or when he came back to his office at the Research Center after a tiring laboratory work only to find you wearing very skimpy purple lingerie and his lab coat, sitting in his chair with a smug grin and a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

Part of him wanted to chide you for being reckless like that. After all, he would as much as kill, without even batting an eye, anyone who stumbled into his office with you being inside looking like that.

But other part of him the freaky part already imagined taking you in various positions, against different surfaces during his whole lunch break.

And so he started with face-fucking you on his desk, while pinning you to the mahogany wood with one hand as the other was palming himself through his trousers. Your panties torn and long forgotten on the floor, the lab coat loosely hugging your form with your legs wrapped around Lucien’s shoulders and hands grabbing his hair tightly.

This man’s mouth could not only recite poetry and name every flower in the garden, but also it was able to make you cum in a record time. You had to bit your lip very very hard to control the volume of your moans.

Your second orgasm was delivered to you by the scientist’s long nibble fingers exploring your warm sensitive flesh like his life depended on it. And in a way it did, because you were the sole purpose of his existence and making you feel good was his mission, so…

Lucien was preparing you for the third one, when you decided that enough is enough. After all, you came there to make him feel good, not the other way around.

So before your boyfriend could react you pushed him onto his chair and dropped to your knees with a grin, and when he stubbornly wanted to got up again, you batted your eyelashes a few times as you stroked his member through the fabric. He got the message and relaxed into the seat. But don’t be fooled, he was still in control.

“Such a good girl.” He praised you when you were undoing his belt. He gripped your hair guiding your face closer to his crotch.

You’ve given Lucien a blowjob so many times already, you knew exactly what to do. You licked, sucked, bobbed your head and massaged with your hands what you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

Every sigh from the professor was making you shiver so you worked even harder to hear more of them until—

Knock knock knock

“Professor, excuse me…” From behind the door the head of one of Lucien’s assistants peeked out and before you could do anything he saw the position you and your boyfriend were in and immediately panicked. “Oh my— I’m—I’m so sorry!”

He was long gone before you could even pull away from Lucien, but you didn’t miss the murderous stare professor had while looking at now - fortunately - closed door. You didn’t know if you should laugh or collapse into the ground from embarrassment.

You were sure your face was redder than a tomato. Luckily, knowing Lucien’s reputation no-one would be so stupid to tell anyone about this situation. Or so you hoped so.

Before you decided on your final reaction to the intruder, Lucien’s palm grabbed a handful of your hair and he brought your head closer again so that your nose was brushing his hard moist cock.

“I believe we have some unfinished business here, butterfly.”

Weirdly, you never saw this assistant in the Research Center ever again…

Kiro

Kiro loved music almost as much as he loved you and his snacks.

So he was taking every opportunity he could to show you around his studio, write music with you and compose.

And do other, less appropriate deeds.

For the longest time Sunshine Boy couldn’t find inspiration for his newest song. He tossed and turned in his bed every night and skipped meals because of it. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and you, his greatest biggest fan!

But only if he knew that bringing you with him to the studio would be the cure for his lack of inspiration, he would’ve done it already days ago. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? You were his muse after all! Your moans were the greatest music to his ears!

So that’s how you ended up with Kiro pounding into you from behind tightly gripping your hair to guide your head nearer to the microphone so that every one of your whimpers could be recorded properly.

The speed of his thrust was setting a rhythm that he wanted his new song to be in which gave him a plethora of sounds escaping your mouth. Oh how much he loved those sounds.

Gripping your hips he angled you a little more so that he could go even deeper, take you even better. He was sure he was leaving bruises on your skin with the force of his grip, but he didn’t care. He would smother them with kisses later.

“More, Miss Chips. I wanna hear you more.” He murmured as his hand circled your waist and his fingertips pressed onto your swollen clit. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he wanted to kill you from the sheer amount of pleasure he was causing you.

Your moans were getting higher and higher and Kiro knew it was because you were getting closer to your release. He loved that moment, right before your orgasm when your muscles were clasping around his cock trying to milk him from everything that he had, and your eyes were rolling onto the back of your head and you legs were shaking like leaves on a windy day and—

Bam bam bam

“Kiro, what are you doing in there?! Our recording session starts soon!” Savin’s voice sounded from the other side of the door and Kiro cursed under his breath that he was interrupting his own recording session.

You on the other hand squealed and tried to move away from your boyfriend but he didn’t let you.

He slowed down his thrusts and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Kiro answered but his agent didn’t seem to be convinced because he insisted on waiting for you two at the door.

When you wanted to move away again, disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting the realest that you wanted, Kiro brought you closer to himself again and started snapping his hips into your once again. His hand still clamped tightly over your mouth.

“Well, maybe our recording is over but we can at least finish this.”

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

#mlqc #mr love #mr love game #mr love queen's choice #mr. love queen's choice #mlqc kiro #mlqc fanfic #mlqc headcanon #mlqc lucien #mldd #mlqc bai qi #mlqc smut #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin

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velvetmel0n · 4 years

Text

Insatiable

Summary: The Mandalorian has a run in with some rather odd pollen while hunting for a quarry and you try to fix it

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Automatic dub-con due to the pollen, penetrative sex, sex against a wall, Mando finds a loophole to take his helmet off but everything else stays on, the Child is sleeping don’t worry, little bit of cockwarming, soft ending

A/N: Me, posting fic during daylight hours? I’m just as surprised as you are, who am I

@damerondjarin @rzrcrst @okay-hotshot @beskars @acomplicatedprofession @huliabitch @pascalplease @darksideofclarke @thesefleshfailures @justawriterwithdreams @generaldamneron @criminal-cookies @someplace-darker @amarvelousmandalorian @roxypeanut @leahsafae @bunnyart-blog @duamuteffe @themandjalorian @hopelikethesun @dindjarindiaries @paniclana @winters-buck @pedropascalito @agentpike @hiscyarika @lesqui @mandadoration @the-huttslayer @poeticandors @tintinwrites @mserynlarsen @hystericalmedicine @queenofheavenandhell @himbopoes @qveenbvtch @bookshelvesandteacups @yougottakeeponkeepinon

Something is— something is wrong with the Mandalorian. The fact that he’s returning without the quarry is concerning enough but the way he’s moving, the way he’s hauling himself up the ramp and out of the jungle like he’s hurt is what sends your heart rocketing into your throat. You can’t see any chinks in the beskar even as he steps into the light of the Razor Crest and the rational part of your brain realizes that the lack of any outward signs of injury, that his armor is still in place, should make you feel better.

Instead what it does is make you swallow, makes you want to reach out and run your hands along the gleaming metal and the thick fabric between the plates, fingers probing for something to fix. “Mando?” You hate how your voice sounds even as it’s leaving your mouth, thin and shaking under its own weight and you feel the anxiety curdle in your gut.

You had just put the Child down for the night and thought it was funny, this odd turn your life had taken in these last months. Going from odd job doer to nurse maid and medic and whatever else a situation may call for. You didn’t realize how attached you’d truly grown to it until now.

The Mandalorian grunts and the sound is ragged at the edges, and you watch with wide eyes as he sits heavily on the cot as if his legs won’t support him any longer and he— he starts tearing at his gloves, at his arm braces. Any other time you’d be fascinated by the skin he’s showing you, normally only glimpsed through blood and bacta spray, but now it only makes your blood run cold.

“Something got under the helmet,” His voice is slurred, the words crashing into one another before they leave the confines of his mouth. He sounds like he drank an entire jug of spotchka by himself and your brain starts to prickle with realization. “Just— I feel so, feel so hot,”

You swallow, careful to keep your distance now when just moments before you had wanted to run to him. “Did you notice any smells? Any...strange tastes in your mouth?” You know enough botany to have dread settling low in your stomach, replacing the anxiety that had been threatening to overtake you. You don’t think this planet houses a lethal strain— uncomfortable, yes. Life altering, perhaps. But not lethal.

The questions make him pause, thank Maker, because this is the most skin he’s ever shown you and already the guilt is gnawing. You know his Creed, piecing it together from the stories you’ve heard about the Mandalorians and from his own mouth, and you are terrified. Terrified that he’ll go for his helmet next, that you won’t be able to stop him in time and then what? What comes after?

“It smelled...sweet, but, but more than that—” He doesn’t know how to explain how it smelled sweet and spiced and soft. As soft as he knows your hands are when you patch him up somewhere he can’t reach, as soft as he imagines other places are. He shakes his head hard to dislodge that thought but it’s already taken hold and now he can’t stop.

He’s having trouble remembering why it’s a bad idea to reach out for you, drag you into his lap and fill his hands and his mouth with you, gorge himself on sensation until he’s sick with it. He feels like he’s burning up, boiling from the inside out and his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton but it’s watering for you.

His mouth. That’s right, you asked him if he tasted anything. He did— some strange, flavored heat having curled into his mouth and he can’t describe the taste, just knows that it was good and he won’t be opposed to tasting it again.

“I don’t know, something— something good,” The edges of his voice are fuzzed out by the vocoder but the rasp isn’t smoothed and his words skitter down your spine to settle low in your belly. You had spent months perfecting how you deal with the Mandalorian; friendly, compassionate, maybe a little teasing, but most of all understanding of his Creed and the Way and that meant ignoring the affection that had started to fester not long after you’d met. Ignoring the way your mind wandered at night or when you were alone, and it was all going to come crashing down because he’d had a run in with fucking adamari pollen.

If the circumstances weren’t so dire you think you’d laugh because this is ridiculous.

You swallow and raise your hands like you’re trying to placate something feral, show it that you mean it no harm. “We need to stay away from each other for the next few hours, alright?” You hate the way your voice sounds, thin and shaking underneath its own weight and you aren’t sure what you’re more scared of— him forgetting himself or you letting him.

He’s breathing harshly but he only tilts his helmet at you, not realizing what you’re trying to say so you try again, tongue flicking over your suddenly dry lips. “You’ve heard of adamari, right?”

That causes him to still right down to his labored breathing and you rush to reassure him the only way you know how. “This one isn’t lethal we just— you just have to ride it out,” Maker, did he bring any in with him? You can feel yourself warming, goosebumps rising on your flesh the longer he looks at you from behind that dark visor but that could just be the Mandalorian himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, not even slightly, but it most certainly is the worst time.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” The words rumble through the vocoder and you can only nod, seeing the way his hands fist atop his thighs and you swallow thickly. You know you can’t stop him, you know you won’t want to stop him once he puts his hands on you and that’s why one of you has to leave.

“Look, it’s probably going to last the rest of the night. At least,” You tack the words on as an afterthought, figuring you should warn him before he’s too far gone, remembering how depending on the strain and the dosage the effects can last anywhere between a few hours to a couple days.

You watch as the Mandalorian flexes his hands before he straps his braces back on, fitting his hands back into his gloves slowly as if the movements of covering himself back up are paining him now in some ironic twist of fate. “I’ll go.” The words are simple, brooking no arguments. Maybe they would have inspired more confidence if they hadn’t sounded like they were pushed through gritted teeth.

He hauls himself to standing, a mass of gleaming beskar and you hold your breath as he walks past you, not missing the way he pauses, the way his helmet cants towards you. “Take care of the kid for me,” It’s a forgone conclusion at this point but you understand his need to say it still and you nod, murmuring a simple ‘of course’ into the still air. He doesn’t resume walking right away, instead watching you for long, drawn out moments that make you feel like an ash-rabbit caught in a snare before he stumbles down the ramp, shaking his head.

You’re trembling as you shut the ship back up, not able to tell if your sigh is one of relief or disappointment as he keeps walking into the jungle.

Should you— should you activate the ground security protocols? You probably should in case something other than the Mandalorian tries to get in, but it almost feels like a betrayal as you do. You aren’t afraid of him, not really, and you don’t want him to think that you are. What you’re afraid of is you inadvertently causing his life to unravel because you can’t keep your eyes closed. You’re afraid that it’s the pollen to blame for this, that no part of him actually wants you.

You try to distract yourself by checking on the Child, sleeping peacefully in his crib and you hope he remains that way for the rest of the night. You press a button on the machine and the canopy slides back into place, blocking out all the lights and noises of the Crest and you almost wish you could join him.

You wonder if the famed Mandalorian discipline will be enough to keep away during the long hours of the night, that it will somehow overcome the effects of the drugging plant. Maybe he’ll get far enough away before it really slams into him.

You spend hours like this, unable to keep yourself from pacing around the Crest and jumping at every little noise, from the ship settling to the sounds of the jungle outside, and all the while wondering. Wondering how he’s faring, if it’s gotten worse yet. If he’s in pain and if it would have been a better idea to let him stay and help him. He might not have reached for his helmet like you’re so afraid of.

It’s the middle of the night and your nerves have started to dull, sleep beginning to pull on the edges of your brain. Nothing has activated the ground security protocols and you’ve found the rhythm in the noise of the nightbugs and the creatures and the groans of the Razor Crest. The Child hasn’t woken despite your pacing and nervous energy thrumming out, and all is well.

And then the lights go out.

Adrenaline surges through your body and your heart kicks into a relentless pace and you almost feel like you’re floating with the sudden onset of energy as you spring from your place on the floor. No alarms are blaring. There are no sounds you don’t already recognize and there is nothing banging on the hull of the ship, demanding to be let inside.

The Mandalorian has returned. The Mandalorian has returned and you can’t see a thing.

Arousal and anxiety clash in your gut, colliding until you’re shaking and you don’t know which is which. The dark serves as a loophole, but how strong is it? The urge to run wells up within you so strongly that you almost gasp, feeling your way through the dark as you try to figure out a place to hide.

What if he regrets it, afterwards? Thinks it’s shameful and can’t bear to be around you anymore? Even worse, what if it’s never spoken of again and you have to live with the knowledge of what he feels like, his skin against your own and buried inside of you and you won’t be able to do anything about it.

Your blood is rushing in your ears as you creep through the gloom, your mind racing. There are only so many places to hide in the Razor Crest and your first instinct is to hurl yourself into the storage closet he calls a bunk and seal yourself up in it but you know that would be asking for trouble. You think if you can make it to the ladder you might have a shot of scrambling up, sealing the hatch before the Mandalorian reaches you.

You’re pointedly ignoring the fact that he probably has some sort of nightvision equipped in his helmet and can obviously see better than you if he’s plunging the Crest into absolute darkness on a whim.

You don’t even think you breath as you move, barely picking your feet off the floor and somehow forcing yourself to go slow, to take your time so you don’t run headfirst into a wall. The goosebumps are back and the hair on the back of your neck is standing on end and you feel so thoroughly watched that you think you can feel his eyes on your like a caress.

You don’t know how far you make it before you feel a heavy hand on the center of your back, pushing you up against the wall and then the Mandalorian is pressing himself against you, trapping you between two layers of solid metal and you almost keen from the sensation of it.

“M’sorry, I— I tried, so hard, I’m sorry,” He slurs into your ear and all the breath you’ve been holding leaves your lungs in a gust because you’re not hearing the blurry, filtered voice through the vocoder anymore and you can feel his lips on your neck, mouthing at the delicate skin desperately. He’s taken his gloves off too and his hands are everywhere.

They slip beneath your tunic without warning and his skin is fever hot and rough, and you can’t stop yourself from shaking if you try when he grasps your breasts, cupping their fullness and squeezing, forcing a whine from your throat. He keeps mumbling apologies against your neck, soothing bites with his tongue and gasping for breath because there’s just so much of you he’s never touched, never felt like this and you’re so soft and warm and he’s losing his mind.

“S’okay, really,” You do your best to reassure him but you think the pollen is rubbing off you, it has to be because it’s like once he got you in his arms all that anxiety and fear that was festering and curdling in your stomach turned to pure heat in a single instant and you can feel the wetness already slicking the insides of your thighs.

His chin hooks over your shoulder and you think he’s trying to watch himself play with you— you have no idea if he can even see but the idea that he’s trying cranks you higher. Your other senses have heightened to compensate for the lack of vision and maybe that’s the reason why you almost cry when his fingers clasp around your nipples. He pinches and rolls the puckering flesh, and you’re unable to stop the sob of his name that leaves your mouth. “M-Mando,”

The sound of that word on your lips, little more than a gasping moan, is what breaks him the rest of the way. The words come pouring out of his mouth then and fill your head up until the sound of them and his touch are the only things that exist for you.

“Wanted this for s-so long and you— you’re—” You’re letting me, the thought finishes unspoken because he can’t believe it. You’re arching your spine and reaching behind you, clawing at any part of him you can reach and he loves it. He loves the way you taste and the sounds that are pouring from your lips and he’s never been this hard in his life.

His hands finally come unglued from your breasts and rasp down your side, his rough palms catching on your skin and the contrast has you both shaking. The Mandalorian doesn’t waste time, isn’t capable of it as he shoves his hand underneath the waistband of your pants and your underwear and— and he fucking chokes.

You’re so warm and wet that for a moment all he can do is groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder and his big body shuddering against your own. He drags a finger through your slit, in awe of just how wet you are for him as you rock in his palm. He can’t get over the fact that you’re almost sobbing for him now as he rubs the calloused pads of his fingers sloppily over your clit and he can feel your thighs quiver.

“Im-imagined this,” He can’t stop himself from talking, needing to get the words out, to let you know that it isn’t pollen that’s caused all this. It only sped up the timeline, pushing him off the cliff he’s spent the past months edging towards. “Didn’t know yo-you’d be this— this warm,” His voice cracks on the last word and he groans raggedly into your ear because at that exact moment he’s slicking two of his fingers into your weeping cunt and some part of him thinks this is a hallucination. This has to be a hallucination because there’s no way you’re this hot, there’s no way you’re drenching his hand and moaning for him.

He tells you as much, rasping right into your ear how tight you are, how good you’re taking his fingers. How he’s been dying for this.

You try to brace yourself against the wall as your hips bear down on his thick fingers, able to feel the dips and ridges of his knuckles while your free hand clutches at the arm he has wound around your waist to keep you crushed against him. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes and you already feel so full but you’re greedy, and maybe the pollen has rubbed off on you after all because as amazing as his fingers are spearing up into you, you want his cock more.

You try to tell him but when you open your mouth to do so the only thing that comes out is a whimper because the Mandalorian is pressing the heel of his hand hard into your pubic bone while his fingers work, grinding your clit against his hand. You can feel the bridge of his nose pressing into the line of your jaw, his breath huffing over your skin and it’s all too much.

You feel yourself clamp down on his fingers and your mouth hangs open and the only thing you can hear is the Mandalorian’s moan in your ear. He presses you harder into the wall and his hand stills, keeping the pressure on your clit and just curling his fingers within you. You don’t notice how your nails are digging into his wrist and the hand you have on the wall is shaking as it reaches back, blindly seeking the Mandalorian to pull him closer as your hips stutter and grind into his palm.

You don’t realize you’ve started begging him until the buzzing clears from your head. “Please, p-please, Man-Mando, just— I need your cock,” You sound as wrecked as you feel and the Mandalorian grunts somewhere behind you, ripping at his belt before the words are fully out of your mouth. You want to help him but your hands are shaking too much and you’re still trying to remember how to breathe properly when you feel a blunt pressure against your slippery folds.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you’re rocking impatiently on just his tip, whining at the feel of his hands now gripping your hips to try and hold you still. You still haven’t gotten used to the feel of his bare hands on you and it’s like each brush of them, every squeeze and and rub making you feel almost delirious. They’re hot against you, fingers digging in around the bone and somewhere in a hazy part of your mind you know you’ll have marks later, a roadmap of where and how he touched you and you can’t wait to trace your fingertips over them in the daylight.

Any control he’s managed to cling to is gone and he’s helpless not to buck his hips, filling you up in one decisive thrust that sends you lurching into the wall. You cry out from the sensation of his cock splitting you open, the stretch pinching just enough for the pain to put the pleasure into focus, sharpening it to a razor’s edge.

This is what he’s been hiding underneath all that beskar? The thought slides across your mind like a tendril of smoke, half formed and nearly transparent before it blinks out of existence as fast as it came into being because the Mandalorian is rutting over you, armor biting into the backs of your thighs as he tries to press as close as physically possible each time he bottoms out within you.

He’s barely pulling out, as if he can’t stand the thought of separating from you even just the few inches he needs for leverage, is something unbearable and it is glorious. The tears have spilled from your eyes and his hands are clutching you, arms banding around your front to keep you molded to his chest so tightly that your breathing is restricted from the pressure across your chest but you can’t manage to care.

You aren’t being granted any sort of reprieve from how deliciously full you are and you think you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags inside you, scraping heavily against that one specific spot that’s causing you to see stars in the darkness, pinpricks of light igniting behind your eyelids. His name is falling pathetically from your lips, your high pitched and needy and he just keeps going. His mouth at your ear, slurring how you feel around him, how well you’re taking him and how he never wants to leave your heat.

You use his voice, so much clearer without the vocoder, as a homing beacon and reach a trembling hand over your shoulder, sifting your fingers through the sweaty curls you find at the nape of his neck. He shudders and snarls when you give them an experimental tug and you feel it right down to your toes— so you do it again.

He digs his hips into yours in a rhythm that borders on brutal and you’re only able to last for so long because the arm around your stomach drops low and he’s pressing his fingers into your clit again, quick and desperate. And then, almost before you realize what’s happening, your vision is whiting out and your pussy is clamping down around his cock, your flesh pulsing around him as you hang, suspended time time and unable to feel anything but the pleasure as it rockets up your spine and covers your skin like syrup, thick and sticky-sweet. Your mouth is hanging open but no sound comes out at first and— and then you’re mewling some pitiful parody of his name because he’s fucking you through the first orgasm and on into the second if he doesn’t stop.

Which he doesn’t. You’re sensitive and shaking and he isn’t stopping, driving into you again and again before he stills, cock buried as deep as he could manage and he moans. The sound is broken against your shoulder, blunt teeth indenting your skin and you’re sure you’ve never heard anything better. Liquid heat fills you, makes you arch and writhe and feel almost like a lothcat in heat.

The Mandalorian doesn’t move away from you like you had been so afraid of just hours before, doesn’t rush to cover himself or start offering apologies. Instead you feel him panting against your upper back and he slackens his bite, laving at the marks he left with his tongue. He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, rumbling a single word that has you quivering all over again—

“More.”

Hours later you’re sprawled atop the Mandalorian, your cheek resting against the cool metal of his cuirass and his cock still buried in you. You have no idea how long you’ve been laying like that, his hand drifting across your back, tracing nonsense patterns along your spine with his bare fingers. He put his helmet back on sometime during the night and as much as you missed the access to his mouth, the sound of his unfiltered voice, you understood.

You’re drifting somewhere between being awake and unconsciousness, only aware of the feel of his hands, the hard lines of beskar pressing into your skin, and how full you feel, reminded of that in particular every time you so much as twitch.

You hum in sleepy acknowledgement when he calls your name, only raising your head when he squeezes your shoulder and gives it a little shake. You rest your chin on your hand and fix his visor with what you hope isn’t a look of lazy contempt, though whatever your expression may have been it melts at the first touch of his hand on your cheek and you can’t resist the urge to nuzzle into his warm palm. The Mandalorian is quiet for so long that your eyes are starting to drift shut when he begins to speak, soft and slow. “This, it— it started because of the pollen,” He lets the words hang in the air and you have the sense that he chose the words carefully. He doesn’t take his hand from you, letting you lean the weight of your head into his palm, thumb stroking the delicate skin underneath your eye so slowly you don’t know if he realizes what he’s doing.

You don’t answer him right away, instead you lift yourself up just enough for you to be able to reach his helmet, doing your best to ignore the way his cock drags along your sensitive walls and you can feel him tense right through the beskar. You don’t reach for it. You don’t even move your hands from where they’re braced against his chest. Instead you move slowly and carefully, leaning forward to press your lips to the visor in a soft kiss before you settle back onto his chest.

You hear his sigh through the vocoder, the tension seeping out from underneath you and you feel your lips pulling into a smile as you close your eyes. You’re higher up than you were before, just enough for your cheek to press into the softer spot between his cuirass and his pauldron and you want to hum with contentment. You know that you have to talk about this sooner or later, but for now you only want to bask in the afterglow, in the languid soreness that’s settling into your muscles.

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #mandalorian smut #star wars fic #star wars smut #first time writing mando and first time writing sex pollen we've got a double whammy folks

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 3 years

Text

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

“I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

#whump #pet whump #stalker arc: rudy and clyde #whumper as caretaker #bad caretaker #cold caretaker #drugging tw

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littlesniggy · 3 years

Text

Establishing Dominance

Anon: Hiiii hope ur doing well 💗 I was wondering if I could get Zoro with a easily jealous female crewmate who also a yandere. She not afraid to show how jealous she is. She sweet when she is around the crew and other people but she's actually dangerous when it comes to other females approaching Zoro. Maybe The crew stop by an island and Zoro talking to a girl about swords and reader see this and ask zoro to leave cause she want to talk to the girl alone. When zoro returns the girl is gone. Reader tells him she left but in reality she laying face down in a ditch.

Since your a fan of dark content you can make this as dark as you want tbh the darker the better.

Have a nice day ❣❣❣❣

Hey Anon! I'm doing great, thank you! Also thank you for your request! First time writing Yandere Reader and I had a lot of fun! I was thinking about making it darker but I wanted to see if people liked it first. Please, let me know!!

Warning: 18+, nsfw, Yandere reader, mention of blood, violence, jealousy

Pairing: Zoro x yandere fem! reader

Word count: 1.3k

You narrowed your eyes, anger boiling inside your stomach, slowly rising up until it would eventually erupt. You clenched and unclenched your fists, watching as Zoro talked to this tramp. You saw her eyes lit up whenever he said something, small touches to his hand when he showed her the handle of his sword, her admiring the handicraft.

Your whole body was on edge, ready to jump at this bitch and rip her apart. But Zoro would get mad; he wouldn’t understand. He almost never understands the way you feel, when you get protective over him when some innocent looking witch tried to seduce him, when you tell him to not talk to them because you feel a little jealous and you wanted him to pay attention to you! He always said you shouldn’t be worried, that there was nothing and that he didn’t even recognize them as women. Liar. After all, he was simply a man, looking for a quick fuck and then get out. You needed to make sure he knew you’d always be there for him.

With a sweet smile you walked over to them, linking arms with Zoro who looked a little bit confused but kept on talking to that woman. With a slight nod in her direction you let them continue their conversation about swords, waiting for the perfect moment to get him to leave. But the first step in establishing dominance was made: you had made clear to her that he was yours.

“Zoro?” You asked him when there was a short break in their conversation. He looked down at you, one eyebrow raised. “What is it, Y/n?” he questioned. “Franky asked me if I could tell you to come and help him with something on the ship. The others all left and I wasn’t strong enough. When you have time, could you go check on him?” The green haired man blushed a little at your warm smile. “Sure.” he looked at the other woman, apologizing to her. “Sorry, I’ll be right back. Then I’m gonna show you their blades, okay?” he said and the woman nodded, smiling at him. “Sure! But don’t worry. If you can’t make it I won’t be mad. I’m glad I even got to see such a great sword!”

You both watched him leave (after walking in the wrong direction twice), silence lingering between you two. When he was out of sight, she turned to you, smiling a genuine smile. You smiled back, looking just as genuine.

“I’m (Name). Nice to meet you.” She introduced herself. “Nice to meet you, too, (Name). I’m Y/n, Zoro’s girlfriend.” The witch didn’t seem to mind that you were his. She has no shame flirting with someone else’s man.

“Do you want to walk around a little before he comes back? I know a cute café not too far from here.” She suggested. Your expression became more menacing, smile turning creepy as you followed her to said café.

“Where did she go?” Zoro looked at you confused. It had taken him longer than (he) anticipated, mainly cause he got lost multiple times. Turned out Frank didn’t need any help.

“Huh? What a surprise. I must’ve misunderstood it then.” You said, cleaning a knife with a soft cloth.

“She left. She said she had some important things to do. I think you were just taking too long. Did you get lost again?” you asked teasingly, following the sharp blade with your fingers, admiring the sharpness.

Zoro huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I didn’t get lost! It’s not my fault that Franky moved the ship to another place!” he defended himself. His eyes caught you cleaning your knife, something you only did when you had fought against someone. “Who was it?” he asked, nodding towards the knife. You smiled at him, shrugging your shoulders as you put it away, back into its pocket.

“Just some guy hitting on me and when I rejected him he got angry. Nothing to worry about.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him with you.

“You have some time? Cause I wanna show you something.” You winked at him, turning the corner with him. Zoro grinned, knowing exactly what you were up to.

His grunts were low, his hand was fisting your hair, guiding your head to his thrusts. Small gagging noises joined his deep grunts, making you all teary-eyed. You braced yourself against his thick thighs, clawing at the muscular flesh as you took him in all the way, swallowing around his thick shaft, making him choke out a moan.

You were fingering yourself while you sucked him off, four fingers inside of you. Lewed sounds filled the air around you, the smell of sex clouding your senses.

Your tongue glided over the underside of his shaft, feeling the prominent vein that had always had him twitching whenever you touched it.

“Fuck, Y/n!” What’s gotten into you?” he gasped, opening his eye to look at you but regretting it immediately when he saw you staring up at him, teary eyes, his dick buried inside your mouth to the brim. He was throbbing and you felt him holding back, not wanting to cum just yet.

He pushed you off his dick, panting heavily, a heated expression on his face. You removed your fingers, getting up to your feet. “I love you, Zoro.” You whispered into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping on his hips, wrapping your legs around him as well, pressing against his erect member. His hands supported you by grabbing your ass, kneading the flesh under his rough palms.

“You seem hornier than usual. Did anything happen?” he panted but you captured his lips with yours, starting a messy kiss with tongue and teeth. He turned around, pressing you against the wall, his dick brushing against your core. “Stop talking….just fuck me.” You hissed in pleasure when his dick pressed against your clit.

Zoro didn’t have to be told twice when he pushed himself inside of you, making you moan in pleasure in the process. You pulled away from the kiss, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, an almost wicked smile on your lips.

Blood. So much blood. Her screams in pain and agony, her pleas and her seemingly lifeless body, lying face down in the very same alley Zoro was fucking you right now. Not even 20 feet away she was, hidden behind a container.

You lifted your head, your eyes looking over to the container. You could see a hand on the ground, unmoving. You knew she wasn’t dead but you whished you had killed her.

“Harder!” you moaned when he hit your sweet spot, your nails digging into his muscular back, leaving bloody scratches. Zoro grunted, picking up the pace, ramming himself inside of you. “Harder.” You repeated, feeling him hammer into you as if he wanted to tear you apart. You loved it.

The sound of skin on skin, dirty and harsh, filled your ears and you felt your orgasm rushing closer. A little more.

You saw the hand twitch a little; a sign she was still alive and you pressed your body closer to his, wanting to feel him with every fiber of your body. He was yours and you were his. She would never come between the two of you, would never have what you had. You wanted to hurt her more, wanted to make her bleed until she was a bloody mess, not to be recognized again.

“Zoro!” You moaned when you came around him, feeling him fill you up right after. Panting and sore, you hung in his arms eyes closed in the afterglow of your orgasm. He had filled you up with his semen, had marked you as his – only his.

“I love you, Zoro.” You repeated, inhaling his masculine scent. Your eyes caught another movement from the hand, indicating she was coming to her senses.

“I love you, too, Y/n.” Zoro panted but you didn’t hear him.

I will kill that bitch.

#one piece #op #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #Roronoa Zoro x reader #x reader #one piece x reader #op x readerr #ns.fw #sm.ut #yandere #Yandere reader #request #franky #op franky #one piece franky

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highfaelucien · 3 years

Note

Hmmm maybe lucien and elain playing with nyx and elain marveling at how good lucien is with children...

@bow-dawn also requested "give us elain watching lucien playing with nyx and that warms her heart enough to have a talk about their mating bond 😭" Everybody wants Lucien with babies because they know he's baby catnip. And I have no idea how children work but an attempt is gonna be made!!!!

send me ship prompts! platonic or otherwise!

Elain's arms were starting to get sore. Even with her being fae now. Arms that had stabbed the King of Hybern were somehow unequal to holding one small Ilyrian baby.

He was a very important baby, to be sure. Since he was her nephew. And the son of the two most powerful people in Prythian's history. Or so everyone kept saying.

Maybe he knew that. He was certainly doing everything in his power to make sure the whole of the Night Court, maybe the whole of Prythian, was aware of him right now, with the racket he was making.

They weren't sure which powers of his parents' the babe would inherit yet, he was too young. But he had an incredibly potent pair of lungs, of that she was sure of.

She'd been holding him for what felt like decades, bouncing him in her arms and trying to soothe him. He had managed to wear through her considerable patience, and she was now bordering on the edge of desperation.

This was her first time babysitting by herself. Feyre and Rhys had trusted her with their son, and she couldn't get him to stop crying! She was a terrible aunt. What kind of mother would she be? Unable to comfort her flesh and blood.

That thought made her stomach plummet. Had she lived out that other life, the one she sometimes saw reflected mockingly back at her in mirrors and pools, and married Greysen...She'd likely already be a mother. Would probably have at least one baby of her own.

She pushed that thought away before she joined Nyx in his crying.

"Cauldron boil me, Feyre!" A voice called from the stairs leading up to the roof where she'd taken Nyx hoping some fresh air might calm him. "What in the name of the Mother are you doing to that hellspawn child to make him scream that way?"

The voice was familiar, but unexpected. But she barely had a moment to process that before the door banged open and she found herself staring at Lucien.

"Oh," they said simultaneously.

Then Lucien, his cheeks changing colour to match his hair, said, looking abashed, "Lady Elain, please forgive me. I, I expected to find Feyre up here."

"I can tell," Elain said, giving him a little smile, "By the way you were shouting her name."

"Yes, well," Lucien muttered, looking rather flustered.

She found she quite liked that look on him. She always tended to see him as the polished, silver-tongued courtier, always composed and prepared to handle anything.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be up here. I would not have spoken to you that way if I'd known you weren't Feyre," he said, with a bow.

"Why not?" Elain said, cocking her head to one side, "I'm not some delicate flower that can't handle hearing curse words, you know," she told him, almost defiantly, "Amren has taught me many new ones. Cassian showed me how to do it in Illyrian. Rhys can be quite inventive when he's grumpy. And when all that fails, I can always just fall back on the word fuck."

He blinked at her, then grinned broadly, "Shockingly, I don't make a habit of cursing at people that I don't know all that well. Feyre and I are good friends, so she has earned my fragrant cursing at her."

"She's also High Lady of the Night Court," Elain said, raising her eyebrows, "With more power than anyone in Prythian's history has held in a long time."

Lucien waved an idle hand, "I knew her before she became all Made and Rhysandish," he told her, "Once you've seen someone puke faerie wine into a fountain of the mother at the Solstice it's hard to see them as too grand to curse at anymore."

Elain giggled at that, then winced, as that apparently seemed to upset Nyx even more.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at them, "Cursing aside," he said, leaning idly against the wall, "My question about that one still stands - what by the Cauldron have you done to him?"

"Lots of things!" Elain said, her voice snapping a little bit, "I've fed him, and I've changed him, and burped him. I've tried to put him down for a nap. I've tried to rock him, and bounce him, as swoosh him side to side. I've talked to him, and I've sung to him, and I've begged him and he still. Won't. Stop. Crying!"

Lucien smiled slightly, which made her want to smack him, because this was absolutely not funny, and she felt tears of frustration starting in her eyes.

"Feyre and Rhys trusted me to look after him on my own and I can't get him to stop crying! I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she confessed hopelessly.

"May I hold him for a moment?" Lucien asked.

Elain hesitated a moment. But Feyre had let him hold her son before. She had seen tears in his eyes when he'd done so, and it had bridged some connection between them that had never fully healed since the war. She didn't think her sister would protest, as long as she was still here.

And she was so tired. Her arms were so sore, and Nyx was becoming a very heavy and dense weight in her arms. So she nodded gratefully, eagerly pushing the little bundle into Lucien's arms.

Lucien held him with a surprising ease, as if he'd done this thousands of times before. A broad, genuine smile spread across his face as he peered down at him, bouncing him slightly in his arms.

Nyx peered up at him. Elain expected this to trigger an increase in the volume of his howling, but, incredibly, he quieted almost at once, seemingly entranced by Lucien's face, his glinting metal eye.

"There we are," Lucien said, smiling, but raised a finger as Nyx started grumbling again, "Now, now, we won't be having any of that," he told him calmly, "Ah, you have wings, don't you? Let's see then..."

Lucien carried him over to the table, unwrapped his blankets. Before Elain could protest about the cold, he rewrapped him, but gently extended his wings first, and curled them around his little body, securing them in place around him with his blankets.

"You know about babies with wings?" Elain asked, bemused.

Lucien nodded, "Certainly," he said, then seemed to consider, "Not Illyrians, and not Rhys-spawn," Elain giggled against her will, "But I'm hoping the principles are the same."

He scooped him up and bounced him. Nyx actually giggled at him, the little monster.

"How did you do that!?" she demanded, peering down at the baby, who was now lifting his chubby little hands and grabbing, as if trying to catch the glinting eye above him.

Lucien smirked, "I have a known gift," he said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. Elain would have whacked him for that, if he hadn't been holding her baby nephew.

"You, you've been around a lot of babies?" she asked.

Nothing in his history, though admittedly she knew little of it, had implied that babysitting had been a big part of it.

"Oh yes," he said, very seriously, "Fae with troublesome younglings came to me from all over Prythian, every court, lesser and high alike so that I could use my gifts and soothe them."

Elain put her hands on her hips and growled at him, "Don't you bullshit me Lucien," she said, as sternly as she could, poking a finger into his chest.

He snickered, still grinning at her, shifting Nyx slightly in his arms as he started to fuss again, "I have a very big family," he said, shrugging.

"I thought you were the youngest of your brothers," she said, frowning.

Lucien nodded, "True," he confirmed, "But I have lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, and friends," he added, with a flicker of some emotion she couldn't quite read. He took a breath and added, "Regardless, they all felt that, as the Lord's seventh son, I didn't have anything better to do with my time than babysit all of their offspring. I've had a reasonable amount of practice."

"Well you saved me today," Elain said, collapsing into the seat that Rhys always liked to sit and brood in, overlooking the Sidra, "I don't know what I did wrong," she muttered, bracing her chin in her hands and sighing dejectedly.

Lucien cautiously approached, Nyx still cradled in his arms, and sat in the seat next to her, also glancing out over the city. "If it helps," he said, "You did everything right. Sometimes babes are just tricksy little bastards," he said with a shrug,

She frowned, trying to determine if he was patronising her.

"They like to be dramatic and seek for attention," Lucien told her calmly, "Especially when they have Rhysand, Night Discomfort, Death Irritate, the most dramatic bastard to ever spread drama, as their father" he added in a lofty voice that acutally sounded uncannily like Rhys.

Elain stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop herself snorting as she laughed.

"He is very dramatic," she agreed, tickling Nyx's tummy.

Lucien smiled down fondly at the babe, and for all his comments about him being dramatic, there was a tenderness in his face she had never seen before from him.

It made him look younger. His face was still scarred and strange, with that mechanical eye, but there was a gentleness in him she hadn't seen from most fae in her time in Prythian, it made her feel safe and calm.

Nyx started fussing a little again, and Lucien hushed him, and fluttered his fingers in the air above him. Little lights appeared above him, circling like a mobile and flashing different colours.

Elain let out a little gasp of delight watching him, which was echoed by Nyx.

Lucien glanced up at her, a wry smile on his lips as he said, "My magic isn't particularly powerful or impressive, but it's very good for entertaining infants."

"I think it's beautiful," Elain said, quiet, but sincere.

Lucien smiled.

Then he turned his head back to Nyx, tickling him with his free hand while the lights continued to circle, swooping down and booping the child on the nose, causing him to giggle.

Elain felt a sudden pulse of warmth and joy blossom in her chest like a swelling rose, and she let out a little, "Oh!"

Lucien glanced up at her, startled, "Are you alright?"

She put a hand to her chest, without breaking eye contact with him, "I, I fel you," she said quietly.

"I apologise," he said, looking truly sorrowful, "I usually keep better control of myself, but being around you makes that more difficult."

The little river of his joy faded away as he closed off the bond on his end.

"No!" she cried, with a desperation she couldn't quite explain, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm, "No," she repeated, more quietly, "Please don't, don't close down on me."

He raised his eyes, and held her gaze, unwavering, unfaltering. She felt that river again, the joy at holding the babe still there, but also excitement, anxiety, and almost unbearable anticipation. Though she had the sense he was trying to keep her from the worst of it.

"It's good," she whispered, "It feels good. I've, I've had dreams of you," she told him, "So much pain. So much guilt, and sadness, and hopeless need."

He ducked his head, turning away from her, seeming ashamed, "I'm sorry that you-"

"No," she said, quiet but firm, cupping his face in her hand, tracing his scar with her thumb, "No. You don't apologise to me for the things that others have done to you. You never do that," she said, with a fierceness that surprised even her.

"I shouldn't have let that touch you," he said quietly, "I, I don't want anyone to feel that, least of all you."

Elain held his gaze and, for the first time, she tentatively tapped at that string inside her, on her bottom rib, that one that extended beyond her in a way even her newfound Sight did not.

Through it, carefully, she pushed all of the depression, all of the pain, and all of the grief, and hopelessness, and even the darkness that had almost claimed her, caused her to step into it and never return.

He started, and his eyes filled with a thin veil of tears. But not because of the emotions she shared, but the fact that they were twin to his own. The fact that, as he looked into her eyes, he knew that she had felt what he had felt.

"We are the light for so many," she said quietly, "The sun that they grow towards, the thing they reach for in their own darkness, when they need hope, and someone who will always find a smile for them."

Lucien nodded, and picked up that thread she'd left dangling for him, causing one of his orbs to circle close to Nyx. The baby tried to catch it, giggling, and Elain saw that, but also the shadow it cast on his soft skin.

"But where there is light, there is shadow," he murmured, eyes not leaving hers, "That is the quiet burden we bear to be their light."

Elain nodded, and together they looked back down at Nyx, and let the warmth and joy at him flow, tentatively, between their bond.

***

thank you!! I hope you enjoyed!!!

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #Nyx archeron #acofs #acotar series #acotar fic #elucien fic #my fic #mine #answer post tag #fic prompt fill #taryn fills prompts #IM DOING IT OKAY IM DOING IT #IM MAKING MY WAY #THERE'S JUST A LOT #AND I CANT STFU #long post

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