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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

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saturate me, i can't get enough

rated e 4,066 words cw: please read full note below the cut in regards to terminology used in this ficlet/warnings A really big thank you/shoutout to @patchworkgargoyle for proofreading this and giving me a few great suggestions to make sure this was absolutely perfect for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! Also available on ao3.

This labor of love (and smut) is for my favorite transmasc Steve truther, Gerry. I am so grateful for your contributions to this fandom, and I am even more grateful that you welcome me into your chaos (Tig threads I'm lookin' at you 👀). While I may still not think my writing could be a gift to anyone, let alone a talented writer like you, I will just be positive that you'll enjoy this for what it is which is soft and tender fuckin'.

A VERY SERIOUS NOTE FOR EVERYONE ELSE: I am very much a cis woman. I spoke with Ger before even starting on this because I wanted to make sure he was comfortable with me even attempting to write transmasc Steve. I am using masculine and feminine terms for lower anatomy that he uses in his own fics and his own life with his express permission to do so. If you think this might be a trigger for you, please don't read. I wrote this specifically for Ger, and realize that it may not be for everyone. Taking care of yourself is the most important thing!

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If Eddie had known what exactly he was getting into when he asked Steve on a date, he probably would have done it a lot sooner.

He tugged on the silk ropes around his wrist, just tight enough to keep him in place on the bed, but still loose enough that he knew he could pull out of them if he had to.

Steve refused to tie them any tighter.

“Need you to feel safe with me, Eds,” he’d said with a soft kiss to his lips.

As if he could feel anything other than safe with him. As if he hadn’t spent the last five or so months falling in love with him, learning what makes Steve Steve, figuring out how he could fit in Steve’s life.

Somehow, Eddie ended up naked first, tied up in his own bed, breaths heavy with anticipation of what was to come.

And he had very little idea of what was to come.

He’d already been surprised at how quickly Steve took charge of their date, their first kiss, the torturous ride back to Eddie’s apartment where Steve’s hand just brushed against his cock every minute or so.

Now, he was at Steve’s mercy entirely.

Just the thought of Steve leaving him like this while he touched, and kissed, and bit every part of his body was enough to have him leaking.

“Can’t believe how good you look like this,” Steve groaned from his spot between Eddie’s legs.

Oh, his shirt was off.

Finally.

Eddie whined as he saw Steve’s one and only tattoo, a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, on his left side just under the scar from his top surgery.

He wanted to trace the outline with his tongue, maybe mark it up so that it wasn’t just black ink, cover him in purples and blues that would take days to heal.

But he wouldn’t be able to do that now, not with his hands tied above his head and his legs spread wide enough that he couldn’t get leverage to pull himself up or Steve down.

Next time.

“Steve, please,” Eddie begged, though he wasn’t sure what he was begging for at this point other than touch.

“Sorry, baby. You’re just so distracting.”

Eddie knew he was blushing, could feel the heat on his face and neck, on his chest.

His hands were sweaty where he had them clenched into fists, somehow already overwhelmed before even being properly touched.

Steve’s fingers glided across his chest, pausing to pay attention to his only nipple, laughing to himself when Eddie jumped.

“Sensitive? Maybe this one got all the nerves from the other one being gone,” Steve smirked as he leaned down to flick his tongue over the soft, pink flesh of his one remaining nipple.

It was like an electric shock, a fire burning through his veins and Steve’s tongue was the match that lit it.

He arched his back, chasing the feeling as far as he physically could, pouting when Steve pulled away.

“Hey,” Steve touched his cheek, smiling when Eddie relaxed into the touch. “I know we’re moving fast, but I kinda wanna take my time with you. Is that okay?”

Eddie nodded, thankful that Steve said it first.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of going as far as they could as fast as they could, not at all. Eddie would be happy with anything.

But taking their time?

He would take all night.

“Wanted this for so long, baby. You have no idea,” Steve whispered, breath hot against his lips as he leaned back in.

“Me too,” Eddie’s voice trembled.

Steve’s palm settled against his chest, no doubt feeling how hard and fast Eddie’s heart was beating, but not saying anything about it.

Eddie could feel his pulse in his fingertips, in his toes, in his hair.

“You like being tied up?”

Eddie nodded, biting his bottom lip between his teeth and letting his mind drift to thoughts of being like this hours.

“You want me to do what I want? Not let you pick?”

Eddie didn’t even care about his teasing tone, his knowing smirk.

He wasn’t asking for an answer, he was asking for control, and he already had both.

“I think you want me to take over, ride your face maybe? And then your cock?”

Steve was spot on.

Eddie couldn’t count the amount of times he’d pictured that exact scenario in his head. Just last night, while he was cooking dinner, he thought about the way Steve would taste, how he would look while Eddie took him apart with his tongue, his fingers.

He hadn’t even gotten to picture his cock inside him when the fire alarm started beeping to let him know he was burning his supper.

“Yeah, that’s what you want. Don’t even have to say it, I can see it all over your face,” Steve teased.

He could only imagine.

Steve got off the bed, shushing Eddie’s whines with a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Just getting everything else off, Eds.”

It was said to calm him down, but it just caused him to cant his hips upwards, seeking any type of friction on his leaking cock.

Steve’s eyes never left him as he stripped his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop, his feet stepping out of the pant legs as quickly as he could without tripping.

He joined him on the bed again, settling between his legs and staring down at him, eyes holding so much affection that Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it, where to put it all.

When they made eye contact, Steve smiled softly down at him.

“You okay with this?” He asked, wanting to be sure before they got too carried away.

“More than okay,” Eddie nodded. “Wanna taste you so bad, Stevie.”

“I can make that happen.”

Steve untied one of his hands from the bedframe, but didn’t let it touch any part of him yet.

“This is only so you can tap out if you need to. You’re not allowed to touch anywhere except my leg. Three taps if you need to stop, okay?” Eddie nodded. “Show me.”

Eddie waited for Steve to climb up a bit, straddle his chest, the warmth between his legs enough to make him forget for a moment what he was supposed to be doing.

“Eddie. Show me,” Steve’s voice was stern enough to grab his attention again, and Eddie focused on making his shaking hand tap his thigh three times. “Good boy. You can keep your hand there if it’ll help you remember, but no moving unless it’s to tap.”

Eddie’s head felt cloudy already, something he so rarely experienced with anyone, something he hoped he’d get to keep experiencing with Steve from now on.

Steve shifted back down for long enough to leave a kiss on Eddie’s lips, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he let out a laugh.

“I can feel your heartbeat between my thighs. A bit excited, aren’t you?” Steve teased him again, but Eddie wasn’t complaining. If anything, it just made his heartbeat louder with anticipation at what he was about to get.

“Need you,” Eddie managed to say.

Steve didn’t wait any longer, scooting his body up so his pussy was level with Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie groaned, lifted his head an inch so he could be even closer.

He needed it, needed him. He couldn’t wait any longer to get a taste.

Eddie’s tongue lapped at Steve’s hole, the only part he could reach at the moment, but it was enough.

Steve let out a long moan, gravelly voice letting out a long “yes” as he rocked his hips forward to get Eddie’s tongue inside.

Eddie closed his eyes and let himself be surrounded by Steve.

His slightly musky smell, the sweat that was rolling down his thighs, the surprisingly sweet slick dripping from his pussy, all of it was better than Eddie could have possibly imagined.

The noises got louder as Steve adjusted himself directly over Eddie’s face.

He pulled away just enough for Eddie to catch his breath, but Eddie didn’t want to catch his breath.

“Need your cock, please,” Eddie begged, not caring if he was breaking an unspoken rule, not caring if he suffocated for it.

But he didn’t get in trouble. In fact, he got exactly what he wanted when Steve settled back down, his dick rubbing against Eddie lips in silent instruction.

Eddie opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue, and moaned.

“God you’re so good,” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand on his thigh, squeezing as he rocked back and forth, taking things slower than Eddie expected him to.

Eddie whimpered, letting out what little breath he had as Steve rested more of his weight on his tongue.

“You made me so wet just laying there, all tied up for me, hng,” Steve groaned.

The hand squeezing Eddie’s moved to the headboard, giving Steve just a bit more leverage to bear down and chase his own release on Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie could feel his fingernails digging into Steve’s thighs, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop unless Steve made him.

He could feel slick and drool dripping down his chin, his cheeks, his neck, probably making a mess of his hair and the pillow under him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Steve was making low groaning noises now, his pace getting faster every few thrusts back and forth.

Eddie opened his eyes, wanting to try to see what Steve looked like from this angle.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Steve’s head was thrown back, his arm muscles straining as he held onto the bed, leg muscles and stomach tensing as his pleasure started to crest.

The flush that Eddie had barely gotten to enjoy before was now covering his hairy chest and his neck, a few drops of sweat dripping to his stomach.

Eddie hoped he could lick them up after Steve came.

Steve let out a loud whine and one of his hands fell to Eddie’s hair, his fingers tugging at his roots in a way that reminded him he had no control over any of this.

Eddie decided to take matters into his own hands the best that he could, curling his tongue into a sharper point so that on the next thrust, Steve’s dick was given more pointed pressure.

“Fuck!” Steve yelled out. He looked down at Eddie, hair flopping into his face. “You wanna suck it, baby? You can if you want.”

He sounded so close, breathlessly framing his own wants as something Eddie wanted. And Eddie did want those things.

He was starting to realize he wanted everything with Steve.

It should have been a scary thought, especially when this was just the ending of their first date, but instead of worrying about it, Eddie used all the energy and muscle he could to lift his head up and start to suck on his dick.

“That’s it,” Steve panted, holding Eddie’s head against him, not giving him a chance to move away again. “You’re so good, baby. Gonna make me cum so hard, fuck.”

Eddie started to nod, and the extra movement seemed to set Steve off.

He felt Steve’s thighs clench, then loosen, then clench again, his hand tightening in Eddie’s hair, and a long moan left his body.

Eddie moaned too, and the vibration sent Steve over the edge.

Steve slowed his pace, but didn’t get up, letting Eddie slowly lick along his folds, gathering up the slick dripping out of him.

When Eddie’s tongue brushed over his cock again, he flinched, but let out a huff of a laugh.

“Sorry, baby, you got me so oversensitive already. You’re too good at that,” Steve said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Good at what? Being used?” Eddie managed to ask, voice hoarse.

Steve looked down at him as he moved down to settle against his stomach instead.

“Good at being good for me,” he finally said, seriousness ruined by the hint of fondness in his tone and smile.

“Always wanna be good for you, Stevie,” Eddie admitted.

Steve looked at him for a moment, searched his face for any sign of him lying or being too sex-drunk to be realistic.

But whatever was on Eddie’s face must have shown him that he was serious.

“Yeah, baby. I think you could be,” Steve leaned down to kiss him, licking into his mouth like he wanted to taste himself on Eddie’s lips and tongue, like he wanted to know what they tasted like together.

Eddie felt his cock pulse, felt the tug in his stomach that let him know he was probably much closer than he should be just from eating Steve out for five minutes.

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed though; Steve was moving down his body further, reaching a hand back to touch his cock.

“Wait!” Eddie leaned his head away.

Steve pulled his hand away and looked at him, frowning as he took in the panicked look on Eddie’s face.

“I just, um, I’m close. Like, pretty sure if you touch me, I will cum all over your hand and probably never be able to look you in the eyes again.”

Steve snorted out a laugh.

“What’s wrong with that?” Steve asked, slowly tracing his fingers across Eddie’s waistline, not even looking as he got closer to his cock.

“I…I don’t know?” Eddie admitted.

And truly, he had no idea why he shouldn’t cum. That was the goal of this, and Steve was making it pretty clear he didn’t mind if he did, might even prefer if he did.

The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want any of this to end.

“Eds, you’ve been so good for me, I kinda want you to feel good, too. Unless you really don’t want to-”

“No! I do!” Eddie ignored the way Steve was trying to cover his laughter. “I just thought you wanted to ride me.”

“Ohhhh. I see. You’re being selfish.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, teeth audibly clacking together.

No one had ever called him selfish in bed, not even jokingly.

But Steve’s tone wasn’t joking. His face wasn’t joking.

“I guess you think I don’t wanna see you squirming because I’m wringing the third orgasm from you in less than an hour? Is that it?”

“Uh…”

Steve clicked his tongue.

“I planned on you begging to stop soon enough. Unless you want to stop now? Seems like it might be hard to go to sleep like that, though.”

Steve’s brow raised as he glanced behind him for a moment at Eddie’s red and dripping cock, then looked back at Eddie.

“No, please don’t stop. I…can I be inside you?” Eddie was desperate, and didn’t care if he sounded like it.

“You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up good, make sure I feel who I belong to?” Steve asked as he slowly moved back further, his hand firmly grasping the base of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whined, bucking his hips up, but not making the contact he needed.

“You can if you promise to clean me up after,” Steve’s hand slid up Eddie’s dick slowly, the pressure not nearly enough to satisfy him, but enough to make him whine.

“I promise. Please,” Eddie nodded, his one free hand making a fist in the sheets while his still tied up hand tugged on the binds.

Steve didn’t respond with words, just sat back and guided Eddie’s cock along the inner lips of his cunt, moaning at the sensation.

“So warm,” Eddie groaned.

“Gonna get me all wet again, baby,” Steve rocked his hips slowly, teasing the tip along his folds and against his entrance. “You’re leaking worse than I am.”

Which may be true at this point. Eddie had spent enough time licking up as much of his mess as possible.

Steve sat down on his cock with no warning.

He hissed, clenching his fists and curling his toes to fight off the impending orgasm.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the way Steve’s pussy sucked him in, clenching around him in a way that left him shivering and panting.

“Good?” Steve asked, smug grin the only thing keeping Eddie from losing it completely.

“Yes, yeah, so good, fuck,” Eddie threw his head back, arching his back as Steve slowly lifted himself up and dropped back down.

Fuck, Eddie wasn’t gonna be able to hold off. He’d just have to live with the embarrassment.

Steve reached up to untie his hand, grabbing his wrist and massaging it in his own hands as he moved his hips in circles.

“Wait, you didn’t-”

“Yeah, I did.”

“When?” Eddie knew his brain hadn’t been working for a while now, but he was certain his eyes had been. Steve hadn’t stretched himself on his fingers this entire time, and going from just Eddie’s tongue barely breaching his entrance to suddenly sitting on his cock, no matter how wet he was, had to be at least a little painful.

“Bathroom when we got home,” Steve shrugged.

Steve had been fingering himself in the bathroom not even an hour ago. Without Eddie. Without even making a noise.

God, Eddie was so fucked. Literally.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asked, smug grin back in place as he guided Eddie’s hands to his own hips. “Think you can do this part or do I have to do everything?”

Eddie gripped his hips, hoping his fingers would leave bruises, and let himself have this. It may only last for another minute, but he was going to make it worth every second.

He lifted Steve up, then dropped him down, smirking at the loud yelp Steve let out.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later, this is just a preview,” Eddie growled out.

“Promise?” Steve gasped as Eddie shoved his hips up as he pulled Steve down.

“Swear. Every night you want me to from now on, Stevie,” Eddie slowed his thrusting, felt the tension building in his abdomen.

Steve groaned as he placed his hands on Eddie’s chest and started lifting his hips up on his own, clenching as he moved up Eddie’s cock.

He quickened his pace, little whimpers leaving him every time his ass met Eddie’s thighs.

“You feel so good, Stevie, gonna cum,” Eddie whined as his thighs clenched.

“Yes, yes, please. You’ve been so good, Eds,” Steve nodded, not pausing for a second.

Eddie’s eyes closed without his permission, Steve’s words hitting him right in the chest, making his breath leave him in one long, drawn-out moan.

Steve didn’t slow down, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s and pushing them backwards onto the sheets as he rode Eddie through his orgasm.

“Kiss me, please,” Eddie begged, opening his eyes to look up at Steve’s flushed face. Sweat was beading along his hairline, bangs flopping into his eyes.

Steve’s lips hovered over Eddie’s, not quite making contact, but close enough for their breaths to mingle together, for the small whimpers Eddie was unintentionally letting out to be swallowed by Steve’s hungry tongue as it grazed against his own.

Eddie was coherent enough to pull one of his hands loose, reaching up to cup Steve’s jaw as he chased his second orgasm of the night.

“Can I?” Eddie asked, moving his hand down his neck, tracing a finger along his collarbone. He looked up at Steve’s wide eyes, felt his pace slow to a stop.

“Can you…?” Steve asked, breathless as he tried to figure out what Eddie was trying to ask him.

“Can I touch your cock? Want you to come on mine.”

Eddie felt Steve clench around him, his cock almost over sensitive enough for it to be painful.

“Yeah, I’m close,” Steve admitted, pulling his other hand away to sit back so Eddie had easier access to his dick.

He was dripping, and Eddie’s cum was leaking from his hole now that he’d stopped moving and Eddie was starting to get soft.

Eddie’s fingers gathered up as much as they could, gliding down to where his cock was still inside him and away a few times, just to tease.

“Eddie…”

“Sorry, sorry. Just like touching you,” Eddie smiled up at him, at the way Steve’s back was arched, at the way his thighs were trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

Steve grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to his dick, impatience finally taking over.

“I like you touching me too, but if I don’t get to come again soon, you won’t touch me again for the rest of the night,” Steve snarked.

Eddie loved him.

He didn’t hesitate to curl his fingers so his knuckles rested against the sides of his dick, still teasing, but at least where Steve wanted it now. He didn’t move for a moment, wanted Steve to be desperate enough to rock forward.

“Eddie, please,” Steve whined.

“Look who’s begging now,” Eddie teased. “You’re so hard, sweetheart. Should’ve told me you were this close earlier. Would’ve taken care of you.”

Steve whimpered, shaking his head as Eddie’s knuckles started dragging up and down his dick.

Watching Steve fall apart above him like this, making him fall apart, especially when he’d been the one in control all night, was making Eddie feel unstoppable.

This was all he ever wanted: making Steve feel good in any way Steve wanted or needed.

Eddie started jerking his fingers faster, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuuuuuck,” Steve groaned, shifting his hips up for more pressure, for anything else he could possibly get.

“That’s it, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good. Wanna be good for you.”

And just like Steve’s words had done for Eddie before, Eddie’s must have been the final straw for Steve.

Steve’s thighs shook as he came, his fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he fell forward, trapping his hand against his pulsing dick.

“Hmm,” Steve moaned out as his grasp loosened, leaving half-moons in Eddie’s skin.

Eddie knew he would be hard again soon. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if he got hard while still inside Steve.

But Steve’s eyes opened, and Eddie somehow fell further.

“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve whispered, leaning in to kiss along his jawline, letting his teeth gently brush against his chin before pecking his lips.

“I’ve got perfectly good fingers. Or…” Eddie leaned up to kiss him, smirking when he felt Steve grind against him. “You could also fuck me.”

Steve’s responding groan was muffled by Eddie’s chest, a laugh immediately following.

“As much as I would love to, and will as soon as I have energy, I was thinking maybe we could just…stay like this?” Steve looked up towards the end, a pink blush coating his cheeks unlike anything Eddie had ever seen on him before.

Steve didn’t get embarrassed or nervous, he didn’t get flustered, at least not where others could see him.

He was Mr. Charming, the smoothest guy around, the one who always knew how to respond in a flirty situation.

But right now, all Eddie saw was vulnerability, his eyes mirroring back the love Eddie felt but hadn’t put into words.

“Like this or on our sides?” Eddie whispered, not wanting the moment to be broken.

“Like this for now.”

Eddie gave a single nod, not mentioning that they should probably clean up a little, or the fact that Robin would be home soon and the bedroom door was wide open.

Steve kissed his chest before he settled with his head in the crook of his neck, breath hot against Eddie’s pulse point.

Eddie’s cock was hard again inside Steve, but both of them ignored it, savoring the feeling of finally having each other.

Steve was asleep quickly, and Eddie let his mind wander as he traced his fingers up and down Steve’s back.

This first date felt a lot like the beginning of a long future.

–

When Eddie woke up the next morning, his cock was in Steve’s mouth, and Steve already had two fingers in his hole, lube slowly dripping between his cheeks.

“What a way to wake up,” Eddie moaned.

Steve pulled off of him, already smirking, lips red and glistening with spit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Keep going,” Eddie’s voice was rough from sleep.

“You got it, baby.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #transmasculine steve harrington #light d/s #soft dom steve harrington #sub eddie munson

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iiraven · 3 years

Text

Odyssey

Pairing: Poseidon!Armin x Reader

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: slow-burn, minor character death, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, Yandere behaviour, puppy play, piss play, body worship, throne sex, implied age-gap, oral(male receiving), hair pulling, collaring (without consent)

Word count: 9.8K

Synopsis: Armin’s quest for revenge leads him to you, daughter of a merchant and object of his infatuation.

Author’s note: thank you @bubbleteaimagines for hosting this collab and allowing me to join <3 Also, thank you @onyxoverride for teaching me how to write about pee!

Attack on Titan Masterlist

Present day:

If the river could speak, you wonder what it would say.

In the silence that surrounds the rushing of the water, you’re sure you would hear it. Sometimes, you’re sure you can hear it, but then you remember the dangers of trusting unfamiliar voices. Especially unfamiliar voices in a place like this.

No one goes near the river Shiganshina. And you forget the reasons why much too often.

It’s rocky, slippery, there’s no path to walk on, and the nymphs grow sharp teeth when men approach them, hissing and eyes glowing red. But that’s what makes it perfect for you.

Sasha first mentioned the river months ago, recalling the places on the island that her and her father avoided whenever they went hunting. You hadn’t paid much attention to it until days later, when Connie recounted with round eyes how Floch’s body was found beside the river Shiganshina, mouth full of water and eyes gouged out. You knew you needed to go there yourself.

A pearl necklace is what you stole. And under the guise of going to wash clothes at the well, you made your way south of your small island with only Sasha’s vague instructions and your intuition guiding you.

You could hear the ocean as you walked through the untouched woods, your heart hammering in your chest every time the waves crashed against the island’s cliffs. You weren’t allowed to see the ocean- you weren’t allowed to be around any large body of water, for that matter- but you still knew your island well enough to know that a step in the wrong place could lead you tumbling down the cliff.

You would die before you got to feel the water on your skin and that, you thought, would be the most tragic part.

As your feet began to sink into the muddy ground, you could smell the salty water, and a slight metallic scent behind it that only drew you in closer until you reached a clearing. It was small, crowded with foliage with only a few dead plants on the ground where you could only assume people had attempted to step foot.

And there was the river. It was small, its water emerging from underground before the tide pushed it to the edge of the island- to a waterfall. So loud that it could drown out any noise, any screams. You shivered. For a moment, you just stood back and watched. The water was was green, but so clear that you could still see the fish swimming beside the floating objects. Coins, silver, small statues, and whatever else hopefuls had tried to offer. You pulled out your own offering and whispered a short prayer before throwing the necklace in.

It could have been your imagination, but the water calmed. It was quieter. And, like that, you felt as if the river had opened up its arms to you. Strong arms that you have to be cautious not to spend too long within lest you get trapped.

Thankfully, you’ve learned to read the signs. You know when the river wants you to leave, when it wants you to keep your distance, when it wants to keep you close, and even when it wants you to bathe. Those are the special moments. It’s rare the river is calm enough for you to dip your naked body into, but surrounded by the cool water, you feel like you could stay their forever.

If the river could speak now, however, you’re sure it would tell you to fuck off.

Either that or it would tell you to come back when you have something more to offer its god than a single golden bead from your grandmother’s necklace. Only three are left on the thin string, though you think you might keep the last one to honour her death. After that, you’ll have to go back to offering coins and whatever other trinkets that will keep the god of this river sedated long enough for you to dip your feet into the cool water, maybe take a sip, and then return home before your father realises where you’ve been, much less where you’ve been unchaperoned.

The latter is hardly your fault. Sasha and Connie are too scared to step foot in the Shiganshina forest, let alone the river itself. And you can’t trust anyone else to accompany you, especially the servants whose tongue could slip at the drop of a golden coin. Your father would never forgive you for spending time in the territory of the God of the Ocean or- as he liked to call Armin- the destroyer of seas. And thus, being left alone seems to be the only way.

Well, that’s unless Mr Arlert decides to join you.

The owner of the stable who appeared on the island out of nowhere is the last person anyone would expect to be brave enough to spend time at the river Shiganshina. He mostly keeps to himself, only ever seen tending to his horses or immersed in scrolls of literature and poetry. And yet, he’s here almost as often as you are, almost as vulnerable as you are.

Despite his solitary nature, Mr Arlert has been quick to make himself adored. Mothers swoon over his charm, scholars constantly indulge in his curiosity, and sailors are fascinated by his knowledge of the world and its oceans. He’s no warrior, and already in his late twenties, but he’s still without a doubt one of the most eligible bachelors on Paradis. And, yet, to any marriage proposal sent his way, he declines with a polite “A husband is not what I am fated to become”. Even Annie Leonhardt- whose father Mr Arlert would constantly visit- had her heart broken. But no one blames Mr Arlert, of course, who was there to comfort Annie, to make her realise that she just needs to be a better person, that’s all. It’s not his fault her heart broke, Mr Arlert reassured.

Thinking about it now, you’re amongst the handful of women who haven’t been offered to the tall blond. And with that comes a sigh of relief as you drag your fingers through the water.

It’s not like you dislike him- the opposite, actually- but being with Mr Arlert is like taking the hand of an invisible man in the dark and letting him guide you.

His words constantly have your thoughts spiralling in directions that they shouldn’t be. Thoughts about leaving the island, thoughts about going to the ocean, thoughts about becoming a priestess. Thoughts you aren’t allowed to have.

You fate is bound to the home you were born in, a thick rope tied to your ankle, only letting you go as far as this very river. And Mr Arlert sits beside that rope, a knife in his hand, blue eyes staring into your soul, waiting. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. But what you’re sure of is that to be taken away from the life you know of is an inconceivable fantasy. The unknown is a dangerous thing, after all.

The small island of Paradis may lie far away from the rest of the world, but their core values remain the same. A woman must grow up to either serve her father or her husband. Your fate has already been decided for you. And, frankly, if it means not having to share a bed with an old man who marries you for your dowry, you’re very happy with taking care of your father until the day that he’ll be put into the ground.

But then there’s always the third option. A woman who serves neither her father nor her husband will serve her god.

You had never been given that option by your god-hating kin. Simply suggesting a future as priestess would earn you at least five lashes, so why… why can’t you stop thinking about it? Your instincts have you blame Mr Arlert, but you know that your fixation began before he arrived on the island; all he’s done is vocalise your thoughts.

As a gust of wind blows the leaves and the salt from the sea gently caresses your cheek, you wonder who your god would be. Do you resonate with Pieck’s beauty, or Zeke’s creativity? Maybe. But as you look into your reflection, you know that your god is no other than Armin, the god of the ocean. The fates must think this is hilarious, but you just want to scream.

“It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your father worrying about you.”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning around at the familiar face, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mr Arlert.”

His footsteps are so gentle, as are his apologies.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve come to invade your space, after all.”

“It’s not my space, it’s Armin’s. The god is only letting me stay here.”

He smiles a knowing smile, one that you would usually find patronising on any other man. But Armin is charming, too charming for you ever to think that of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

He comes to sit down beside you, taking his usual place at your right- the voice of reason. It’s quiet for a moment, before you remember.

“Lemnos,” you say.

The blond smiles. “I’m not named after a place.”

And you roll your eyes, as you’ve done every time he’s given you a useless hint. “That hardly narrows it down.”

“Well, I can’t make it too easy of a game.”

“You can’t make it impossible either!”

“It seems like I already have.” And you’re not sure if you want to wipe the smirk off his face or just stare at it.

“What about Tree?”

Arlert laughs. “No, but you have one guess left.”

“What?!” You sit up straight, eyes wide. Now you really want to wipe the smirk off his face.

“You have seven guesses, and in the eleven months we’ve known each other, you’ve used up six.” His explanation is calm and rational enough for you to almost convince yourself that the rule has been there from the start.

“Wait- wait. I never knew about this!”

“I thought everyone did. It’s traditional wager rules.” Mr Arlert’s tone is sorry, but you know he’s everything but. So, you cross your arms and pout, hoping that staring him down might at least give you the smallest chance of winning your wager.

He leans forward, mirthful and you feel a shiver go down your spine. “What is it, little puppy, sulking because you’re afraid you can’t win?”

You flush at the implication of your loss- “No- no not at all- no”- before registering his actual words are and only then can you feel the heat rise and you’re sure it’s doing you no service. “I know I can win!”

“I know you can too,” he assures you.

You frown. “Are you being sarcastic?”

It’s his turn to flush. “No, not at all! You can win- the water god favours you, after all.”

And although you shrug, his words stick. They always do.

Before you go home, you pass by Armin’s temple and place at the foot of his statue the remainder of your grandmother’s necklace.

A year ago:

Amrin knew how fickle the gods were and he thought that this knowledge made him impervious to those feelings. He watched how Eren jumped from woman to woman daily, how Reiner picked and chose his battles without a care, how every single fixation a deity would have never lasted more than a year. He thought of how stupid it was to spend a life of immortality indulging in such temporary pleasures. And he looked down on his kin for that very reason.

It was only after one argument too many that Armin finally let it slip. The god of the sea was usually quiet, offering soft smiles, casual conversation, and minimal conflict. That was his only rule: keeps quiet before the gods of the pantheon as he takes his anger out on the humans below. But that day, he forgot about his rule.

Maybe it was the years of silence that caused the Eathshaker’s outburst, or maybe it was just Eren’s bored expression as he talked about his mistresses in front of Mikasa. Armin couldn’t take it. Gathered at a marble table beside all the Olympians, he scowled and told them how stupid they all were.

“Don’t you realise? You’re all wasting your immortality by being so idiotic, so fickle! Everything you touch becomes a temporary pleasure, ruined by your inability to act like real gods.”

He should have stopped; he really should have stopped. But the crack in the glass bridge had been there for years, and now the shards of glass were dropping down into the sea. “You might as well be human!”

The room went silent. Eyes went wide, and mouths gaped, but the gods opted for silence. Every deity wanted to speak up, maybe even draw their swords, but they were more intelligent than Armin was in that moment, which was more unusual than one might think. He had never snapped so violently before. Armin may have been aggressive, but he knew his place. Knew when to be docile. Now, he felt like he could crumble Olympus itself with his rage and bury the Olympians with their dead parents.

The king of the gods, however, leaned forward. His emerald eyes were unmoving, devoid of emotion though his lips tilted into a monstrous grin.

“You’re just as fickle as the rest of us, brother,” was all Eren said.

When Armin lunged at him, knocking the fine glass off the table, it was Mikasa who pinned him down. Arms locked behind his back, all Armin could do was watch as mirth flooded Eren’s face, and the god of the sky laughed. The bastard laughed and laughed and licked the small wound on his hand from a shard of glass. It healed immediately. Even their pain was temporary.

And like he had been doing for the past millennia, Armin found solice in his only rule: if he couldn’t take out his rage on his brother, Armin would take out his frustration elsewhere.

His first instinct was to find a woman, but the thought of seeking out temporary pleasure, from a mistress no less, reminded him too much of Eren. So, he descended to earth, trident in one hand as the other gripped the reigns of his horse and they rode for three days and three nights. That’s all it took for the god of the sea to find what he was looking for- someone deserving of his hatred.

There are many humans like the merchant. But most of their hatred is silent. And when it’s not, blasphemy often falls upon deaf ears. The merchant just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his drunk rambles led him up on the deck screaming out Armin’s name like it was venom in his throat, until he could scream no more. He was drunk, but the merchant’s hatred for the god of the sea did not cease when he was sober.

And when Armin heard his name, the god wasted no time calling forth a storm to sink the merchant’s ship. He took care to ensure that the arrogant man watched each and every one of his men be swallowed whole, their bodies only resurfacing lifeless, before the storm calmed.

It took five days for the merchant to swim back to his island.

He never returned to the sea.

As the weeks passed, he relocated his home to help him stay away from any body of water and made sure that his family followed suit.

But Armin followed, and the merchant’s father died weeks later with saltwater water found in his lungs.

Unfortunately, that was not enough to sedate the god of the sea’s need for vengeance. Fortunately, it was not enough to sedate the merchant’s hatred either. The hubris didn’t leave him. Instead, it just grew and grew and grew until the merchant considered himself more of a god than Armin would ever be.

“Oh, oh.” Armin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man urinate before his temple. “This is perfect, so perfect.”

Armin was going to show his uncaring brother how different he was from the rest of the miserable Olympians. As he stood above the island of Paradis, golden hair blowing in the ocean wind, the god vowed to begin his Odyssey. An eternal Odyssey. A journey that would last longer than the ten fleeting years he had with the Greek hero- a journey that would last longer than the universe itself.

And he knew exactly where to begin. A man’s most valuable possession: his child.

It was only after your grandfather’s death that Armin noticed you. When he first began watching the merchant’s household, under the guise of either a guest or a bird, he had been surprised to learn that the blasphemous man had no wife, nor children. Armin only realised his mistake one night, when you came to lay a blanket on the drunk man’s barely conscious body. The merchant had pulled you towards him, muttering apologies and you had wrinkled your nose before offering him a soft smile. “It’s okay, papa”.

A daughter sheltered from the world, it seemed.

The god had initially thought you were one of the servants. There were only two in the house, and your tasks were all similar. But as Armin began to watch you closer, he saw how you did have a life outside your home with friends, interests, men- a life your father was blissfully unaware of.

The merchant hardly left home- playing the part of the sick man- and you took care of him- playing the part of your dead mother- in a happy sort of agreement.

You didn’t speak about it to your friends, but you detested your doting role. Armin could tell. The way you wrinkled your nose every time your father walked through the door, the eye-roll when you were given a load of laundry. The god couldn’t help by laugh at how pathetic the merchant was that not even his only daughter- his lifeline- cared for him. The merchant didn’t know, of course. Your fake smiles and gentle hands were enough to deceive him, keep him sane. But Armin was going to break that pattern.

The merchant didn’t deserve the care of a woman. He didn’t deserve anything. So, Armin was going to take you away from him.

His initial plan was to kill you. Simple, efficient, quick. And then he thought of dumping your body somewhere far so that the search for you would break your father’s spirit even more. He hesitated, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. And then, you changed your routine.

After meeting up with the two individuals you called your friends at the Sunday market- instead of going back home- you carried on walking. Through the houses on the outskirts and into the dense trees, you almost stung your sandal-clad feet twice before reaching a river. The river had no god of itself, but you still threw in an offering and muttered. Stupid human. And then you sat beside the river and- nothing. Your routine was boring, obviously a ritual to let you escape from reality. Yet, he couldn’t tear away from you. The woman at the river Shiganshina was a different one than the woman who served her father. The one here relaxed her shoulders, cursed at the world around her, smiled- albeit randomly but it was real. He decided there that he would kill you tomorrow.

But when, the next day, you led him back to the river, Armin was lost in you again. Lost in your honestly, lost in your need to escape. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more. Metaphorically, of course. But when you began undressing, the pleated robes dropping to reveal soft skin and tender curves, the god of the sea realised that he wouldn’t mind literally seeing more of you. Armin had been with goddesses and nymphs and, hell, even Aphrodite herself, but never had he been this awestruck. He had to hold himself back. Even though the way you were bathing made it seem like you were worshipping him, water dripping from your body, wet hair hiding the swell of your breasts. Armin’s breath stuttered. He couldn’t reveal himself. He couldn’t.

So, he watched, and watched. Trying desperately to take in everything you were from a distance. Armin didn’t count the number of times he visited you before finally decided that killing you was no longer an option. He told himself that his change of mind was progressive. A practical choice to draw out his revenge into the most painful and convoluted Odyssey. To do that, he couldn’t kill you. No. He was going to take you for himself. Armin was going to turn the daughter of the merchant into a servant of the one God he detested.

Putting the thought into your mind was pathetically easy. As you walked past his temple on your way home, an echo of laughter emerged from the marble building. You paused for only a moment, but it was enough for Armin to catch the look in your eyes. It was one of longing, mixed with a curiosity that threatened to pull you in. But you seemed to catch yourself in the act and hastened yourself home.

And so, Armin’s true Odyssey began.

For his journey to progress, he had to meet you. Not as a bird or a horse or through glances as a guest. He had to meet you properly. This was the only way to draw you in, he told himself. The only way for you to submit completely and willingly.

Armin could have forced you too your knees, but he had to ensure that your father watched has his daughter chose Armin over him. And chose Armin you would. Every piece was in perfect place. The fates seemed to have woven a beautiful cloth of gold for the god of the sea.

What he failed to realise was that the cloth was in fact a snare- a trap which he will never be able to escape from.

Eleven months ago:

A short gust of wind had the pears in your thin basket tumbling down onto the rocky ground. You rushed after the fruit, crouching down to pick it up when a shadow appeared, and a hand reached out to pick it up for you. The sandal-clad feet were pale- paler than anyone living on this warm island and the robes a fine, ironed white. He somehow seemed to glow brighter than his clothes, and you purposefully let your fingers graze his as you picked up the fruit.

“Thank you,” you said, standing up.

You were hoping that he wouldn’t catch your staring. But even if he did, you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. He was lean, taller than you but not intimidatingly so and his eyes were like oceans that you found yourself staring into as he introduced himself as Mr Arlert. Just Mr Arlert. The new owner of the stables with a voice so soft, it took a moment before you remembered to introduce yourself.

“Y/N. And thank you, again.” It isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to be talking to a man on her own, but you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have a first name Mr Arlert?”

His smile was contagious. “I do. But names are a powerful thing. I’m afraid I can’t give mine up freely.”

“Oh.” You scrunched your nose. “Can I pay for it then?”

You were dead serious, but the blond man laughed. How can someone look so pretty when they laugh? You wondered.

“I’m serious! I can pay you; name your price.”

Mr Arlert looked down at you, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is that a no?”

“It’s a no, for now. One day I’ll tell you my name.”

He was sweet, so sweet, but you still gave him a sceptical frown, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing. Mr Arlert in turn gave you a sorry look before his eyes lit up and he pulled out from his brown satchel a small book of yellowed pages and a dusty blue cover, the gold embossing hardly visible. You nose only scrunched further.

“My name is in this story. It’s mentioned few times, but it’s an important one,” he said to you.

You took the book and flipped through the worn pages, immediately recognising the tale of Aphrodite and Ares. The lovers.

Why the challenge? You wanted to ask Mr Arlert but you knew the answer you your get would be too cryptic. Besides, you think, I like a challenge.

“How long do I have?” You asked instead.

“A year and a day.”

“And what will I get if I figure it out?”

At this, he pondered. But it seemed feigned, and you wondered, just for a split second, if the man had planned this from the beginning. But why? This was another one of your questions that went unanswered that day. Because before you could say anything more, Mr Arlert leaned forward and said, “Your reward will be divine”. And he walked away.

Nine months ago:

Life was well after Armin arrived. There was no other way to put it. Your father was confining himself to his room more often than before, and you were finding more opportunities to visit the river, leave the house and, eventually, you met the handsome baker’s son. Jean was kind, a gentleman, but not the arrogant type like most the men your age. You didn’t even feel too much guilt when you thought that spending a future with Jean- taking care of him and his home- wouldn’t be too bad. It’s quite pathetic that your life had been reduced to not being “too bad”, but the idea of marrying Jean sat on the comfortable line between reality and fantasy. Safety.

And then you were visited at the river.

Mr Arlert wasn’t even surprised to find you there, he had just smiled and sat beside you as you clenched your fists and forced yourself to smile back at him. You had always enjoyed him, his company, his challenges, but now it was like he was provoking you. The river Shiganshina was your river, your special place away from the hellscape that was the town. And now Mr Arlert had brought himself and his ordinary life into it.

You pulled your sandals back on, the crease in your brow evident. He clearly couldn’t get the hint. But before you could stand up, he spoke, and you paused.

“I wish I could jump in and swim away,” he said.

Curiosity got the best of you, as it often did with the man.

“The waterfall would kill you.”

The awkward laugh again. It had an effect on you so that your jaw couldn’t help but unclench. “If it means that I get to touch a waterfall, I wouldn’t mind, you know?”

You knew. You knew exactly what he meant. But you didn’t tell him.

“Didn’t take you as the suicidal type,” you said.

“I might get saved, who knows.”

“If you’re counting on me to jump after you, I’m letting you know I won’t.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I was thinking of more of a divine rescue.”

You finally looked at him, and- unsurprisingly- his blue eyes were glued to yours. What was surprising was his unwavering tone, his straight face. Mr Arlert was being serious. Why was he opening up to you this suddenly? So far, your interactions had consisted of him staring, you trying to guess his name, and him continuing to stare. In that order. You knew there was more to him, but it’s only now that you found yourself wanting to seek that out.

“You think Armin would save you?” You didn’t miss Arlert’s smile.

“I’m hoping I’ve gained his favour- done enough for him to allow me freedom via waterfall.”

It was your turn to smile. “You probably have, You’re at the temple often.”

“Thank you.” He blushed and you quickly pushed down the thought of how cute he looked. Sitting beside you, trousers rolled up and feet in the water, Mr Arlert looked more than cute. He looked like he belonged. You weren’t sure how that made you feel but, in that moment, you didn’t mind him entering your world.

“I think you would also be saved if you jumped into the waterfall,” Mr Arlert said.

You laughed. “Is that your way of saying I’m a nice person?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I think Armin would appreciate your- uh- honesty. You’re like a priestess.” He laughs nervously at your expression. “You know, they have this personal affinity with the water and such.”

You knew exactly what he meant. How a stranger could read you so perfectly, you weren’t sure. But as you hid your smile between your hands, you wondered whether you were prepared to face the fear of the unknown. Maybe, with Mr Arlert, it would be a bit less unknown.

A few days later, Jean was announced missing. A search party was sent out and even Mr Arlert, on his recently acquired brown horse, couldn’t find him.

Present day:

Armin isn’t sure if he likes playing the part of the nice boy or not. Humans are simple creatures who praise him continuously and, without divine responsibilities, there is no need to take his rage out anywhere. But a god is who he is, and every day, he yearns to be seen as one. To be seen as one by you. He watches as you worship him, but you never look at him- not like you do the statues, or even the small river which you think is your only true connection to the god of the ocean.

You both want more, and you both know that, but you only ever admit it to each other when you sit beside that very river. There, in those moments, Armin feels a bit more like a god. Whenever he’s around you, he feels a bit more like a god.

He’s told you before, but your perfect honesty has made it easy for him to unravel around you. He wants to unravel around you in other ways, too, and he wants you to unravel around him. Armin can’t count the number of times he’s sat beside you at the riverside and wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those lips of yours, to press the hard cock that he hides inside of you and watch as your eyes roll back, and you call out his name.

But the God of the Sea is not Eren. Armin will earn you. And he’s very close to doing so. Not Mr Arlert. You have no interest in human men, that much is clear. You yearn for something more powerful. And you’re right. Only a god is worthy enough to stand beside you, lay between your legs, be in your arms. Mr Arlert is simply a means to push you to realising that the god in question is Armin.

In the meantime, he’s been nothing but patient.

It’s only when you come to his door one night, eyes puffy and red, that he lays his hands on you for the first time. He rubs your back as you cry and cry, fat tears refusing stop falling. You tell him about bout your father. About how, since he got better, he’s been refusing to let you out of the house, snapping at every moment and accusing you of being a filthy god-worshipper.

“He s-sai-d- he said we’re ‘gonna move away- said we’re gonna get as far away from the s-sea as possible.” You can hardly speak, though the tears have stopped, your voice still shakes violently. But Armin listens, he holds you close to him and repeats that everything is going to be fine.

You can’t stop thanking him as you leave, and he promises that his door is always open for you. “Whenever you call for me, I’m here,” Armin tells you. “Right beside you, always,” he adds as he watches you walk away.

He’s reached a new chapter of this Odyssey.

Present day:

You suppose your father’s death should have been expected. He was an old man, obviously depressed, and his only lifeline was his daughter who hated him.

You also suppose you should feel guilty. You don’t.

Familiar faces give their condolences and whisper questions of what is to happen to you now. You only pay heed to Sasha and Connie, though, who give you a soft hug before Sasha tells you that her family would be happy to take you in. You reassure her and everyone else that you have a plan, though your best friends are the only ones who seem to believe you.

“I heard Marie has a son who’s single, maybe they can-“

“You’re not actually talking about marriage here are you?”

“Well, the girl is all alone in the world, now! She needs a man to lead her on the right path.”

The old women are wrong, so very wrong. You don’t need a man. You’re fucking sick of men- sick of them all- everything they’ve created and everything they stand for.

What you need is a god.

The head priestess of Armin’s temple in unsurprised when you knock on her door with nothing but a bag and the clothes on your body. Those clothes are burned soon after, along with many of your other things, leaving your old life behind.

She tells you that you’re lucky there’s a place for you. The last priestess left running off with a man, “Which is a cardinal sin”, she makes sure to repeat every-so-often. The head priestess seems to hate men more than you do, sneering whenever Connie comes by.

Sasha and Connie are unsurprisingly shocked at your choice of work and even if they visit almost every day, they always tell you that they miss you. They think you’ve come the temple out of desperation- everyone does- and you let them believe. Because despite cleaning the marble floors or whatever other arduous duty you’ve been given, a smile is never far as you realise that you’re free from man. Indeed, explaining the truth to anyone would be far too difficult.

Well, except one person.

You’ve never missed anyone before. Not with your father keeping you so sheltered for most of your life. But as you push through the Head Priestess’ relentless schedule, you can’t help but miss Mr Arlert. He disappears after your father’s funeral, so you leave him a note at the empty stable with your final guess. You like to think he decided to follow his own path, you also like to think that he too wishes you were beside him, a guide in the unknown.

Present day:

The room is a box of marble, with a throne sat upon a dais at the centre and one fountain at every corner, each one sculped into a horse. The object of your interests, however, is the large bowl of water on the floor in front of the throne.

This is your initiation. You will emerge from this room not as an apprentice, but a Priestess.

You kneel down and lift the pot of clay to your lips. The head priestess kept on repeating how important it is to not put it down until you’re finished. So, you gulp the water down until you can see the image of Armin. You’re the one who selected the pot, with its faded paint depicting Armin and Hange’s fight for patronage of Sina. It’s a powerful image, but when you put the pot down, you come face to face with something very different. Armin is standing in a room-this room, you realise- and crouched down before him is a young woman, looking up in awe. It takes bit longer of a moment for you to realise that the woman is you.

Looking up slowly from the pot, the first thing you see is sandal-clad feet. Golden sandals, just as fine as the robes he wears, draped in perfect waves. The first word you think of to describe him is divine and it’s indeed accurate because-

“Mr Arlert.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

But you know that’s not correct. The man- no, not a man- before you is taller than Mr Arlert, by a foot and a half at least. His muscles are more prominent that the stable boy’s ever were, strong legs visible through the large slit between the layers of fabric draped over the god’s figure. Half of his shoulder-length hair is tied back using a golden pin whilst the rest frames his perfect, perfect face. You can’t help but think that Armin looks nothing like his statues- no medium of art could capture the ocean within his eyes, glowing in the dull light of the room. Then again, the stories didn’t capture the way the god acts either.

“Armin,” you say, this time your voice louder.

Now, you know.

His sad smile is familiar, but there’s something there that never was. “Oh dear,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ve lost out wager.”

Armin can’t help but compare you to a puppy, with large eyes staring up at him from your crouched position and an expression a perfect mix of excitement, curiosity, and shock.

You reach out a hand tentatively, but it hovers in the air between the two of you once you notice Armin’s raised brow. But he doesn’t rebuke you for it. After all, it’s only your first encounter with the god. He can’t expect you to behave perfectly, to adopt the right etiquette- no, he’ll have to train you first. Like he would a baby mutt. The thought makes him smile.

“I’ll accept any consequences, my god,” you say. Your voice sounds so sure of itself, so unlike your usual ramblings, those that Armin could and would listen to for hours. Right now, though, the certainty, it’s laced with desire that sends blood rushing south. You don’t notice. You’re too lost in his eyes to notice anything.

When he places his hand on your chin to hold it up, he can feel you shiver. “Such a perfect little worshipper,” he says. “I couldn’t possibly punish you.”

Armin can swear he sees disappointment in your eyes before he turns around and walks up the dais. The marble of the throne is cold beneath him, but the sight of you looking up at him with such longing is enough to warm him up. Now, Armin is sure you’ve noticed his growing erection because you crawl towards the dais, not yet climbing it, but close enough to see and lick your lips.

“Let me thank you at least, Armin.” He almost groans at the sound of his name. God, he wants to hear you say it over and over.

“Come here.”

And you climb up the dais only to pause before Armin leans forward and grabs your hips. Two lips, as if led by an invisible string, meet. You kiss like you’ve been waiting years for Armin and, in a way, you have. His tongue is inside your mouth quickly and he’s kissing, sucking, letting his teeth gently graze your lips as he revels in the feeling of you. As your bodies lean against each other, you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His chest is stone, but his lips are so soft and your hands find his golden hair. It’s also softer than it looks, and Armin can’t help but let out a moan as you gently tug.

When you pull back, his pupils are blown. “Thank me, then,” Armin says, breathless.

Sitting between his legs, your hand is tiny compared to his cock, and you can’t stop staring at it. Long and somewhat slender, but veiny with a flushed red top- he can see you gulp before you take an experimental lick at him. Armin’s hold on your hair only tightens and you look up at him, doe eyed and seemingly innocent.

“Put it in your mouth, pretty girl,” he says, guiding your head gently. “So obedient- Yes, exactly, just like-ah- just like that.”

But he doesn’t need to push down- no- he lets you set your own pace only because you do it so perfectly, almost as perfect as the wet noises you make. Armin doesn’t have time to be surprised, he’s just able to react fast enough to suppress his own moans so he can hear your wet tongue caress the base of his cock, as your lips create the perfect o-shape to accommodate him. Your drool is everywhere in a matter of seconds- his balls are coated with it, and so is your lap, where the spit seeps through the thin white fabric you call a robe.

“Like a puppy,” he murmurs. And you look up quizzically. “You’re drooling over me like a desperate puppy- a puppy in heat,” he grunts. “You just want to please me, don’t you? ‘S alright, puppy, I’ll let you do that.”

If you could nod your head, you would. Instead, your cheeks burn, and Armin is so lost in the way that you look- not even able to take his entire cock in his mouth- that his hips begin to buck unconsciously. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden impact, but he hisses and murmurs “What a good, wet hole. So good, good-”

The earthshaker is afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will slur into incomprehensible sultry sounds. But as you struggle to take his cock even deeper into his mouth, he lets out groans that go straight between your own legs. You moan around him, and the reverberations make his head roll back. God, you could stare at him forever. And he would let you.

“Look at me,” he says whenever your eyes go astray. “Look at your god.”

As his hips buck more violently, Armin can feel the pressure in his lower stomach, the impending orgasm and he wants to stop- wants to hold out the way he always has. But he can’t, it’s too much and he just cannot pull out of you. He simply pushes further and further into your tight throat, repeating your name like it’s a blessing. “fuck, puppy, ‘m going to- I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that, do you you’re your god’s cum- ah, fuck, ahhh”-

Pushing your head down to the base, both of his hands at the back of your head, Armin cries out you name and you can feel the warm liquid go down your throat, thick ropes filling up your mouth, some of it dribbling out. Armin reflexively pushes it back in your mouth, ordering you to swallow it all, to show how grateful you are. Of course, you oblige. But before you can even regain your breath, Armin suddenly pulls you off his cock. His pupils are dilated, and he wears an expression- anger? Shock?

“You’re not a virgin,” he hisses, teeth gritting against each other. His breath is frantic, uneven. It’s not a question and you begin to recognise his expression. Rage. “You’ve done this before.”

Fuck.

The God of the sea has his fair share of consorts and mistresses. Some of them virgins- though he never chases them the way Eren does- some of them not, but none have made him cum so fast. He would like to blame it on the year of pining, of restraint, but he knows better. It’s you. You do this him. You make him so wild, so willing, so pliant even.

In that moment, as he looks your worried face, so desperate to please, he thinks that he’ll never be able to let it go. You’ve consumed Armin and he wants to do nothing more than burn eternally. You must understand that- that you exist as his beacon, that’s where you’ll be your happiest, but those thoughts are too complex for a human. You, in your fragile state, can’t understand. It’s alright, he’ll just have to show you bit by bit that you’re his. But to do so, he must first take on the role he’s familiar with. That of the punisher.

“Who is he?” Armin snaps.

“It was only-“

“Who is he?”

You pause. Memories of nights spent together, huddled close and trying to keep quiet already fading. “Berthrolt Hoover.”

Armin’s shoulders relax, “I see.”

His breathing slowly goes back to normal, and, at the back of your mind, you know you’ve signed the young warrior’s death. But your worry is fleeting as Armin grabs you by the neck and hoists you over his knees, laying you down on your stomach effortlessly. “A priestess who isn’t a virgin?”

You look up as see Armin’s familiar sweet smile, but it’s laced with mirth that makes you forget the Mr Arlert he was before. You cry out at the first slap of his hand on your ass, more out of surprise than pain.

“I don’t think the people of Paradis will be very happy to hear that,” he says. “An unmarried woman giving herself away to a pathetic boy.”

Slap!

“I’m sorry!” you cry out. “It was a mis-”

He slaps you thrice.

“No excuses, dumb little puppy. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this punishment.” His voice is deceptively soft, as if he is actually sorry. And when you look back up at Armin, his face betrays no malice. But it doesn’t show any cruelty either. Instead, there’s a fascination.

Armin has you sprawled across his lap, at his mercy and he is discovering you bit by bit. As a god. His cock twitches and then suddenly he tugs off the fabric of your robes and they disappear.

The way you squirm is half- hearted, and Armin has to laugh. “Embarrassed? Now of all times? I didn’t know you were such a prude. Or is this all just to compensate for the fact that you’re a whore in my temple?”

You shake your head, “I swear, I’ve never belonged to any man!”

Fingers trace the expanse of your naked body, soft enough to send shivers down your spine. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes yes, I swear, ah!” His fingers find your naked ass and they grab onto the flesh, massaging, groping, feeling you. Armin’s other hand rests on top of your head, stroking it gently and you’re so lost in his touch that you almost forget to speak.

“I belong to no man, I never have. Only you. It’s always been you, Armin.”

The god’s eyes widen, and he gently pulls you up from his lap only to seat you on it, upright and, this time, there’s so much more to admire. “You’re right,” he says. Armin captures your lips and this time, it’s longer, rougher. He doesn’t want to pull back, doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your soft lips against his, but his hands have already found your breasts and soon, his tongue joins them. You moan as he begins to lap at your breasts, leaving hickeys and spit in his wake as his finally finds your nipples and begins sucking them like a child as you whine and lean into him.

“You do belong to me,” he finally says, his voice partially muffled as he loses himself in the worship your breasts. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

And you can do nothing more than nod your head as your fingers tangle in Armin’s hair and you’re pulled into another kiss. His hand goes down your body, squeezing every single mound of flesh as if it needs to be touched so that when he finds your cunt, Armin can’t help but smile at how wet you are.

“Already, but I’ve hardly done anything to you?”

What a liar, but you don’t have a chance to tell him before he plunges a finger inside of you. “Oh, puppy, my puppy,” he groans at the contact the same time you moan, pushing your hips against his digits. “You like my fingers like that inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I really love them- it feels, oh my god, it feels too good!” you grip his shoulders, unable to do anything but desperately buck your hips at the smiling Armin. He knows what he’s doing, he knows that his fingers are giving you just that satisfaction, but it’s still not enough to bring you over the edge.

“Please Armin, please.” You squeeze his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, tell me, I’ll give it to you- I swear.”

“I want to feel you, all- ah- all of you. I need to feel you inside of me!”

You’re not sure at which moment Armin removes his robes, but as he moves both of your legs so that you’re straddling him, your hands are on his bare, lean chest. The god’s nipples are flushed pink and pert, practically calling to you and you respond by brushing your fingers over them and watching him twitch ever-so-slightly in response. You withhold the urge to take them into your mouth, even as Armin rubs his cock against your cunt, releasing the sweetest of sounds.

He’s already leaking precum and it mixes with your juices so perfectly, his cock being dragged back and forth, only making you gush even more. “So messy,” he mumbles as he uses his tip to spreads your juices across your thighs. At this point, you can practically feel it throbbing, ready to be sheathed inside of you and the whimpers of your desperation echo against the temple walls.

When Armin slips inside of you, simultaneous gasps escape your lips. The god pulls your body closer to his as you throw your head back, stars in your eyes.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look how easily I slip in- it’s- it’s like your cunt is made for me.”

“Armin,” you whisper back. “Armin, Armin- ah- Armin.”

He sinks you down slowly, the stretch hitting every single spot that leaves your legs practically limp. The god is holding you up, whispering his own mantra that you can’t hear over your bliss. Once inside, your eyes look lock with Armin’s and he’s staring at you in a way he’s never done before. You’ve never seen pupils so dilated and the two of you stay like that as if making up for the moments when you should have been connected in this way. An eternity, it seems, the two of you have needed each other.

“I’m your god,” Armin finally says. “I’m your god and- hng ah-” He begins moving you up and down his shaft. “And I’m going to make you cum all over this cock- okay? All over your god’s cock.”

You nod your head pathetically as he lifts your hips and slams them down against his own. He is strong, ruthless in the way he bucks his hips up every time he lifts you from his cock, as if he can’t bare the empty feeling of not having your tight pussy clamped around him. At this relentless pace, you’re sure that the sound of your connecting bodies could penetrate even these marble walls. And yet, you don’t hold back. Thanks and praises spill from your swollen lips and Armin can’t help but lean forward and push his tongue between your mouth, as if he can absorb all of your word. “So good, so good, it’s- uah- I just want more, more of your cock, you fill me up so good!”

Armin can’t deny you. He pushes your thighs to your chest and picks up your entire body to fuck himself. He manoeuvres your body like a toy and as your tongue rolls out and your eyes become glassy, you begin to look like one too. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are incomprehensible, even as Armin attaches his mouth to one of your bouncing tits, you can only squeal.

“Such a good puppy,” he says between kisses. “Letting me use her holes like this. A god using a puppy’s holes- you should be- you should be grateful! Tell me, tell me you’re grateful!”

“I am!” you cry out. “I am grateful!”

“Good girl, good puppygirl.”

When Armin flips you over, you’re sat on his throne and he fucks into you harder, harder than he was doing before, and you swear his moans are louder too. He’s looking down at the movement of your stomach as if hypnotized by the way his cock disappears into you. And, in a way, he is. The fascination of being inside of you- just the idea even- is enough to make him want to cum.

The sudden position has him hitting new spots and the build-up is so fast, you hardly have the time to warn him. “Armin, Armin I’m cum-“

He grabs your face as you release around his cock, body spasming but unable to look away as Armin’s gaze burns through you. “Good girl,” he says. “Show me, show me how you cum. Just like that, just like that.”

He continues to plough his hips into yours and the spasms of your pussy leave him unable to hold back. “Inside of you,” he practically growls. “I’m going to cum inside of you- yes, yes, yes I am puppy. I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to show me how you take it yeah?”

You’re too far gone to even register the implications of what he’s saying, but he buries his cock in your warm walls and releases his cum inside of you with a heavy groan. “Just like that, just like that- I’m going to fill you up with my seed, puppy, my puppy.”

Armin feels like he’s emptied his balls- two powerful orgasms which leave his legs shaking violently. And yet, he pulls out of you slowly and stands back up to his full height, cock in front of your face. Almost instinctively, you rub your cheek against it, giving Armin soft kitten licks and he coos at you, stroking your hair. But he doesn’t push, he just holds his cock there and pumps softly as he stares at your fucked out face. Messy, covered in his spit, his hickeys, his bites, his cum- you look perfect, divine. Only one thing is missing. “I’m going to give you everything I have, puppy. And you’re going to take it, okay?” You nod and open your mouth for him and, immediately, a strong stream of pee emerges.

At the bitter taste on your tongue, your eyes roll back, and you spread your legs even wider, a welcome to the mess he is about to make. Armin accepts and angles his cock to release his pee over your chest, then your stomach, and then your already-throbbing cunt. He lifts a foot to rest on the throne and Armin doesn’t think he’s even seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

As if guided by an implicit will, Armin’s foot hovers on top of you and suddenly, he presses against your lower stomach. Your eyes snap back into focus as you whine out for him to wait, wait just a moment “I just had water,” you cry out. “It’s gonna- It’s gonna come out!”

But Armin simply grins. “Let it come out,” he says and presses his foot down harder. “Pee yourself dumb little mutt, be a good puppy for your owner.” The trickle that emerges is involuntary, but Armin’s grin is wider. “Yes, good girl, just like that. Let me see more, let me see more of you.”

The pressure that was holding the bowl of water back broke and you felt the warm liquid against your thighs before you realise what’s happening. Armin practically moans as he watches you whimper and struggle to hold your pee back as it spreads over the throne, the dais, and even Armin himself. He doesn’t stop until you’ve given it all to him.

You expect Armin to disappear.

You’ve given him everything. His goal is complete, you think, he has nothing more to do with you. But, as he has done many times before, the god surprises you. Armin’s body is heavy against yours when he collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting. Despite the malaise of urine and cum rubbing against both of your bodies, you wrap your arms around the god of the ocean and hold him close.

Even as you close your eyes and lean your head back on the marble throne, Armin doesn’t leave you. Even as you open your eyes back up and see blue ones staring back at you, the look he gives you is so familiar and long hair in such unfamiliar disarray that you can’t help but smile.

He doesn’t ask why. Instead, Armin calls forth a stream of warm water from the adjacent fountain to clean the both of you. It feels like a fever dream the way floating droplets caress your bodies, and when Armin stands you up, his hands not leaving you, the perfume that suddenly envelops you is heavenly.

“Can I give you a last kiss, please?” you ask when your robe appears once again. And Armin leans forward to capture your lips, dragging his tongue on your bottom lip as if to taste you.

It doesn’t feel like a final kiss. You’ve had many of them- Jean, Sasha, Berthrold, your father, and even your mother, though you can’t remember it. This kiss is different. It feels less like a kiss and more like a promise, a vow. a shiver runs down your spine.

“I am your god,” he says and lifts his both of his hands slowly to wrap around your neck. “And you’re my worshipper.” You gasp as a cold sensation spreads around your neck, just below Armin’s fingers. It’s sudden, and heavy and when he removes his hands, yours fly to your neck and there’s a metal band there where there was none before.

“It’s sculpted from Hephaestus’ gold,” Armin says as he strokes his fingers along the metal. But he’s not looking at his gift, instead he looks at you.

“Armin- I- this is. But why?”

For the first time, he can’t read your expression. But it doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You always have, but now you know. And if it takes time for you to understand, Armin can wait. He’ll wait right beside you, always, always there to guide you.

“This is not the end of my Odyssey. My Odyssey is eternal,” he says before giving you another short kiss and disappearing, the warmth of his lips still present.

The gods might not all be fickle, you think, so you just smile sadly. But the gods are all selfish, so you touch the collar around your neck.

A/N: This is my first ever collab and I was- as still am- a bit insecure about how this story turned out so I appreciate all of your support ❤️. I would also like to apologise to my fellow history nerds for the historical inaccuracies.

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90spumkin · 3 years

Text

The Other Girl

Summary: Reader fears Spencer may be cheating, what happens when she learns about the other girl?

A/N: The first part of this fic is based off the song The Other Girl by Kelsea Ballerini and Halsey and the ending is based of the song Two Black Cadillacs by Carrie Underwood.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader & Spencer Reid x ‘the other girl’

Warnings: cheating, implied smut, implied death/murder

Word Count: 1K

Y/n really tried not to think the worst, but as time went by the dark clouds swarmed her mind. Her and Spencer had settled down for a movie when his phone started buzzing with 5 minutes between each buzz indicating a new message. Spencer wasn’t big on texting so of course this peaked y/n’s attention. Spencer said it the BAU group chat and left it at that. Y/n didn’t question it and had no reason to not believe him.

That was until he started leaving the room almost every time, he got a phone call, not texting till much later than Penelope to let her know the team was home, and then there was the not touching her at all. She was no profiler, but all this just screamed in her mind that he was cheating. She couldn’t confront him, she would lose him completely, so she decided to just write all of her feelings and thoughts in a journal.

Her journal was focused on what she thought the other woman was like, or was she the other woman? None the less she was filled with so many questions.

I bet you're from out West somewhere Hazel eyes and dark brown hair, and everything you wear fits you just right. I bet you drink martinis dry, and never let him see you cry. I bet you're more promiscuous than I. I bet you're bold I bet that's why you seem to occupy his mind I bet you're smart, but do you know about me?

One day while she was home alone waiting for him to return from another long case, she finally talked herself into talking to him and try to ease her troubled mind. She rehearsed the conversation repeatedly in her head. Went through the list of endless ways the conversation could go. When the doorknob jiggled and she heard him unlock the door, her heart stopped.

They were having a nice dinner, and she didn’t want to ruin it, but she knew if she didn’t say anything now, she never would.

‘Spencer, are you happy?” She asked him while she tossed the food around on her plate. He looked up at her with confusion etched on his face, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”. Y/n just shrugged her shoulders losing confidence to continue the conversation.

Spencer laid his fork down and reached across the table to grasp her hand in his, “Y/n please, tell me what’s wrong. She didn’t take her eyes off where their hands were joined and her wedding band glimmered in the dim light as she spoke, “Well, this is the first time you’ve touched me in any way in over a month.”

Spencer was up from his seat and around the table in a flash. He pulled y/n up from her chair and held her against him, “I am so sorry. My mind has been in a very dark place and- “, he trailed off and pulled back a little to look in y/n’s eyes, “- that is no excuse to not show you any affection and love.” That night it was like it used to be when they had first started dating.

Their dinner was full of laughs and stories about their days. When they were getting ready for bed Spencer watched y/n change clothes with lust darkening his eyes. She felt heat in her stomach as he moved toward her. That was the first night since their wedding night that she could say that they truly made love. There was nothing, but soft kisses and gentle touches.

That next morning after Spencer had left for work, y/n began to write in her journal again. Seeing the previous days entry slightly dampened her mood.

Are you the one he's talking to when he gets up and leaves the room? He comes back with a distance in his eyes. Maybe I should be the one to leave, but damn when he starts loving me, it makes me think I'm all that's on his mind.

After that night things seemed to start looking up. Spencer paid more attention to y/n, and there didn’t seem to be any more sneaking away to answer a text or phone call. Everything that y/n thought had been happening seemed like a far-off dream.

It was around 2 in the morning when Spencer’s phone started ringing. Y/n felt the bed move and heard Spencer mumble a ‘hello’. Next thing she knew, Spencer was jumping out the bed and fumbling for clothes. He stuttered out an excuse, but he didn’t sound sure of himself, and then he was gone.

Y/n didn’t go back to sleep after that, and Spencer didn’t come back home before she left for work. With her mind running on over drive and her body struggling from lack of sleep, she decided to stop by her favorite coffee shop. As she was going in, she saw JJ coming out.

“JJ, hey!” Y/n stopped the blonde who gave her a warm smile and an even warmer hug.

“Oh my gah, y/n. How are you?” JJ asked as if she hadn’t seen her a few weeks ago at Rossi’s.

Y/n hesitated to realize that JJ wasn’t with Spencer on the case he claimed Agent Hotchner had called him in for. She decided not to say anything, not want to rope the woman into the mess that lived in y/n’s head.

The conversation was short and sweet. The two women parted ways with claims of making plans. One left oblivious to the other’s stormy emotions.

A few weeks went by, and things were still going well between Spencer and y/n. She had the day off and decided to use her spare time to clean the apartment. While picking up Spencer’s pants from the floor, his phone fell out of his pocket and started to vibrate. Y/n didn’t recognize the number but answered anyways.

“Hello?”, y/n was hesitant and formed it more as a question.

It was a woman on the other end, “Ummm is Spencer around?” Y/n took a deep breath, all of her worries flooding her mind once again. She took a deep breath before responding, “This is his wife, and I think we need to talk.”

Two months later y/n stood in a black veil staring at the place everyone was laying roses. Across the casket she shared a crimson smile with the woman in a matching veil before she turned and walked away. Spencer had been keeping a secret for a lot longer than either woman had realized, and now they too were keeping a secret. That was the first- and only-time y/n had ever seen the other girl, and this was the first case in a long time the BAU couldn’t solve.

Tag list: @criminalmindzjunkie @brooklynxnicole @the-queen-of-moons @imdefinitelyfloating

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #fanfic #fanfiction

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

Text

Intoxicated

note: this was a request from @dappertapper69 , I hope you like it :)

words: 4238 (oops)

warning: alcohol, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that) hope that’s it

“Focus, damn it! “you told yourself, hastily writing down some notes on your tablet before looking back up to where your boss was standing in front of the white board. It was the daily morning meeting, so you still were a bit tired, but that’s what coffee was for and it was certainly not the reason you weren’t able to pay attention.

It was him, your boss. Right now, he was showing some poll graphic, but your eyes were fixed on his muscular arms and rolled up shirt sleeves. He looked so good when dressed casually, the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and you desperately wanted to run your hand into the neckline.

Yes, your boss was hot, but he was also really intelligent, kind and funny to no ends. The whole package, and your crush on him was big.

But your boss was also Jake Tapper, the lead anchor of CNN Washington, and there was no way he would ever see you this way. No, he was your mentor, and you basically owed everything you had right now to him.

You’ve met about a year ago at a debate Jake was moderating. Covering the event had been the first major job you’ve gotten from the newspaper you we’re working at back then, and while you weren’t really satisfied with print media, you had to take what you could. But meeting Jake had changed your life for real. You had started talking about what you were currently writing about, and you showed him some of the freelance articles you had done in for various political blogs.

He had liked your work, you exchanged numbers and two weeks later, a job offer from CNN Washington was on your desk, assistant producer for The Lead with Jake Tapper. You had to read the letter three times before actually believing it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you had no doubt who was behind it.

You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you directly called Jake to confirm, and two weeks later you were all packed up and ready to move to DC.

Jake went above and beyond to make sure your transfer was smooth in every sense, he helped you find an apartment, gave you a two-hour long office tour on your first day of work and regularly checked up on you in the first weeks to see if you were adjusting. He still did that, to be honest, even now that you’ve worked here for months and had learned the ropes.

But you didn’t mind at all, you have learned so much from Jake, journalism-wise as well as when it came to politics, history and literature. His general knowledge was so impressive, another thing that made him so ridiculously attractive to you.

But considering all the facts, jeopardizing your entire career by making a move at Jake was just impossible. But Lord, you wanted to.

You were so caught up in daydreaming that you didn’t even notice that the meeting was over, everyone already left except for Jake. He was packing up his stuff and looked over to you.

“Y/N, everything alright. You’ve been really quiet today, and you look exhausted. Is there something you need?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Bless his heart, you thought. There was definitely something you needed from him, but you would not go there. And it wasn’t like you could tell him that the reason for your exhaustion was the wet dream you’ve had of him last night, one that made you wake you up drenched in sweat and with soaked panties, unable to fall asleep again.

So you just dismissed him. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a lack of sleep.”

“You know you can always come to me when there is something up.” Jake said, putting his hand on your arm in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but just got you even more worked up. You had it bad for the man, and that was why needed to get out of this situation right now.

“Of course, I know.” You gave him a tight smile, hoping he would buy it. “But I really need to go now, lots of stuff to do. I’ll see you.”

Later that day, when you were alone in your office booth, you texted your friend who was working in another department of CNN.

I def need to let off some steam tonight. Club? Xx

She texted you back a couple of minutes later.

Run in with the hot boss again? ;) But sure, let’s do it xx

Even though it was a weekday, the club was bursting with people. You already were on your third or fourth round of shots, and the base was humming through your body, blasting away your worries.

You dragged your friend over to the dancefloor when you heard your favorite song starting to play, the alcohol creating a warm and fuzzy sensation you totally got lost in.

+++

When you woke up the next morning, you regretted every decision you ever made. You didn’t remember how you got home last night, and your head felt like someone had smashed it in with a hammer. And on top of all, you were late for work.

When you finally got the office, everyone was already coming out of the morning meeting. You carefully made your way inside the meeting room, where Jake was still packing up his stuff, as always. As you approached him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as it usually did when you were alone with him, but now with the added fear of his anger.

But when he glanced up and saw you, he looked…relieved? You were confused, you had expected a telling-off, but he appeared as if he was happy to see you.

“Thank god you’re alright, Y/N, I was so worried when you didn’t show up this morning.”

It was when he took a closer look at you that he noticed your appearance, and undoubtedly sensed the alcohol still lingering. He had a very keen sense of smell, something he told you a while back. You swallowed when you saw his expression shift from friendly to irritated.

“You’re hungover.” He stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold.

“Jake, I’m really sorry, I-“you began to apologize, but he was not having it.

“Look, it’s really none of my business how you decide to spend your free time, but I expect you to act professional when it comes to the job, and that doesn’t include showing up late and hungover. I will let this one slide, but this happens again, and we have a problem, am I clear?” he was definitely angry, and you should be intimidated my that. You really felt remorse, but seeing Jake worked up like that also made your stupid brain come up with thoughts of him throwing you on the desk of the briefing room and working out his frustration on you.

“I said, am I clear?” Jake asked again, you had clearly zoned out again.

“Yes, sure, clear.” You said in a small voice, now immensely ashamed that you had disappointed Jake, after everything he had done for you.

“Again, I am really so sorry.” You called after Jake as he was making his way out of the room, but he just dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

The thoughts you had about Jake didn’t leave your mind for the rest of the day. You wanted him so bad and seeing him constantly when he was so out of reach was getting harder every day. You desperately needed to clear your head, the only way you knew. So, against your better judgement, you texted your friend again, and a couple of hours later you found yourself in the same club, drunk and dancing without a care in the world.

You almost hated how much you needed this, the music, the people surrounding you, the alcohol flowing through your veins, making you forget everything.

You lost count how many drinks you’ve downed, but you lost sight of your friend as well, so you decided to go outside for a smoke and some fresh air.

You picked your phone out of your pocket to message your friend when a fantastic idea hit you.

Why not call Jake? You were having a great time, and it only made sense that you should share it with him, because you really liked him, right?

“Y/N? It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong, did something happen?” a still sleepy, but increasingly alarmed Jake asked from the other side of the phone.

“Hiii Jake, oh my god, I’m having the best time ever here, it’s so fun, you should come too! C’mon its Friday, you should party a bit.” You basically screamed into your phone, your voice slightly slurred from too many drinks.

“Shit, it’s Friday morning, which means there is still work tomorrow. Wait, are you drunk? Where are you?” Jake asked, his voice was full of anger now, and under normal circumstances you would be really worried about that, but right now, you did not care a single bit.

“Oh, I’m at that great new club downtown, it’s called the red…I can’t remember, something with red, and the people are so nice, but I lost my friend, so I think I’m going home soon.” You rambled on, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“There is no way in hell you’re going home like this, Y/N. You stay right where you are, I’m coming.”He definitely sounded infuriated now, and even your intoxicated brain understood the instructions.

“Alright, Jakey, I’ll see you.” But he had already hung up.

You kept aimlessly walking around in front of the club for a while, making drunk small talk with other club goers, when suddenly, someone grabbed your shoulder and yanked you around. It was Jake, tired looking and with a deep frown on his face.

“Jaaaaaake, you came!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his neck. He stiffened against you and softly pushed you away.

“Y/N, you’re wasted. Come on, I’m getting you home.” He said, voice leaving no room for arguments. He grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you to his nearby car, pushing you into the passenger seat. When he leaned over you to buckle your seatbelt, he came incredibly close to you, and again, you spoke without thinking.

“You smell so nice, Jake, like a forest.”

He just gave you a puzzled look and walked around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

The drive to your flat passed in tense silence, you were busy staring at Jakes hands angrily gripping the steering wheel, wondering if they would feel as good around your neck as you imagined. You could feel a tingle between your legs and started squirming a bit, until Jake grabbed your bare tight just below the hem of your skirt and snarled “Stop moving like this, I have to focus on traffic.”

You had to stifle a moan at his rough touch, but if he noticed he didn’t comment on it.

When you finally arrived at your building, Jake had to support you while getting into the elevator and to your door, you weren’t that steady on your feet anymore and by now, more of a tired than a giddy drunk.

“That’s mine.” You said and started fumbling with your keys. “You wanna come inside?”

If you had been sober, you would’ve noticed the pained expression that flashed over Jakes face just before it hardened again.

“No, I certainly won’t come inside, but this is what you are going to do. You will drink a glass of water, brush your teeth and set your alarm, so you will be on time at work tomorrow where we can discuss” he gestured angrily between the two of you “whatever this stunt was. Understood?”

“Yes.” You answered meekly “and thank you for taking me home!” you called, but Jake was already on his way back to the elevator.

+++

When your alarm woke you up only a few hours later, you felt like hell. And that was because you could remember everything. No blissful blackout this time, you were able to recall every vivid, horrible detail of how you had made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the man you admired most in the world. You owed him one hell of an apology, and you were not really sure how to go about this.

You entered the office like a beaten dog, shoulders hanging and praying to the gods you looked better than you felt. Jake ignored you in the morning briefing, so you stayed behind to face his wrath. When you were finally alone, you spoke first.

“Jake, about last night, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Not only did I act extremely reckless and unprofessional, but I also took advantage of our friendship, which is something that a value more than anything. I accept whatever repercussion you see fit, I just hope you can see how sorry I am.” By the end of your little speech you were almost crying, your disappointment in yourself and your fear of Jakes reaction were making you physically sick.

Jake stayed silent for what felt like forever, and when he finally spoke, your anxiety was almost killing you. “Yes, I am immensely angry about what happened last night. But most of all I’m worried. The Y/N I know doesn’t act that irresponsible, getting absolutely wasted two nights in a row. I went to talk to your friend down in the sports department earlier this morning. I know, that might be considered unprofessional, but she’s just as worried as I am. She told me you’ve been drinking a lot lately, and always more than you should. What is wrong, Y/N, what are you hiding from me?”

That was the perfect timing to tell him everything, how he was on your mind all the time, how you wanted to kiss him, touch him, be with him in every way possible, so bad that it was keeping you up at night or haunted your dreams. But you couldn’t, there was too much on the line.

“Nothing, work is just stressful, I’ve been working overtime so much; I had to blow off some steam. I’m just sorry I dragged you into this.”

Jake stepped closer to you, and you could feel your heart speed up at the way he was looking at you, something like heated curiosity on his face.

“So, this has nothing to do with the way you threw yourself at me last night, or how you told me I smelled nice?” he asked, his deep voice making goosebumps break out all over your skin. “Or with the fact that you tried to invite me into your apartment?”

“Jake, it’s not how it looks like, I swear. I won’t bother you like this again, ever, I promise.” Your voice starting to become panicked, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t know.

But Jake just chuckled and leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“I think I know exactly how this looks, Y/N.”

He took a step back, suddenly looking calm and collected again, as if the moment you just had never happened.

“I have to go now, but I see you tonight. The office party in the bar down the road, you remember? I expect everyone to at least show up for a while.”

Great, you thought, having totally forgotten about the event. You just wanted to curl up in bed and feel sorry for yourself, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards for you today.

And so, a couple of hours later you found yourself in said bar, surrounded by your colleagues. You already had a short talk with your friend, ensuring her that you weren’t mad that she talked to Jake, you were convinced it came from a place of concern.

You kept it at two drinks, but it was enough to lighten your mood a bit. Jake was talking to someone in another corner of the room, and he looked fantastic with a casual blazer and no tie. There were moments when you felt like he was watching you, but you were never able to make eye contact and were too shy to approach him directly.

It got late and people were starting to hit the dancefloor. You decided to give it a go as well, and soon you were totally lost in the music.

Suddenly, you felt a set of strong hands on your hips and the presence of a warm body behind you. You spun around to tell whatever creep decided to grope you to let it go when you saw that it was Jake. He was smirking down at you, moving his body to the music. You weren’t sure what to do, you were incredibly nervous, but having him close felt so good. Deciding to be brave, you just took his hands and put them back on your hips, giving him a small nod. His grin broadened and you could see his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dancefloor. He pulled you closer until your bodies almost were almost touching, you put your hands around his neck and started to lightly move against him.

Jakes eyes were darkening as he looked down at you, and his grip on your hips tightened noticeable. Being the center of his attention like that, in combination with the pulse of the base and the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in your system made you slightly lightheaded, you felt like you were in your own little bubble, just you and Jake. You started to lightly gyrate your hips, and you could swear that you heard him groan over the sound of the song playing. He pulled you even tighter against his body, by now you were grinding against each other, never leaving each other’s eyes, and your body felt like it was on fire. The tension between the two of you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your faces were coming closer and closer to each other, and your heart was basically jumping out of your chest by now, when suddenly, someone burst your bubble.

“Jake, we need you in the studio, there’s been an incident with…” some agitated guy tried to scream over the music, and you couldn’t make out all the words, but the next thing you heard was Jakes voice as he leaned down to address you.

“I have to go for now, but this isn’t over. I’ll see you on Monday.” It sounded promising, and a delicious shudder went down your spine at his words, easing away some of the frustration you felt at being interrupted.

The weekend was long, you didn’t call or text Jake, unsure what to say. So you just tried to distract yourself until it was finally time for work again.

The week started with the usual morning meeting, and you and Jake weren’t even trying to hide the glances you were giving each other. The dynamic between you had definitely shifted, and the tension only increased over the course of the day.

He was purposefully standing closer to you than usual, you let your hand lightly brush against his leg when he was sitting next to you at lunch and during the afternoon shows ad breaks, his eyes were fixed on you, never leaving you out of sight. You looked back, biting your lips and Jakes eyes widened, he looked like he wanted to devour you. You knew that sooner or later you had to face him and address what was going on. So when you got a message from Jake shortly after the show was over, telling you to meet him in his office, you basically ran there.

In front of his door, you took a moment to collect yourself before you knocked and entered.

Jake was leaning against his desk, tie and suit jacked discarded, arms crossed over his chest.

You made your way over to him and when you were close enough, he put his hands on your hips, like he was picking up right where you left it Friday night.

“You know.” He said, and his voice was a bit husky. “I’ve been in quiet the state since our dance Friday night. And your little touches here and there haven’t helped at all.”

He accentuated his words by pulling you flush against his body, and you moaned simultaneously when you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against your belly.

You smirked and got on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear “I see, now what am I supposed to do about that?”

You pressed a kiss to his neck, and the deep groan he let out was almost sinful.

He reached out to grab your jaw and kissed you in a way that made it clear that he had lost his usually tight control. You held onto him with both arms while he spun you around and probed you up onto his desk, sending papers and pens flying in all directions. No one of you cared.

His hands found their way under your skirt, climbing up until his fingers were stroking over your already soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your covered clit, and you couldn’t suppress a loud moan.

“God, Y/N, how are you already so wet, I have barely touched you.”

“Get on with it then, please.” You groaned, spreading your legs to give him better access. He complied, pushing up your skirt. You lifted your hips so he could swiftly slide your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening center to the cool air of his office.

His fingers crept up your tights again, parting your lips and plunging two digits inside you while his thumb was rubbing your clit in light, circular motions, the pressure creating the most perfect sensation.

“Yesssss.” You hissed and tried to move your hips into the direction of his fingers to increase the friction, this wasn’t nearly enough for you.

“Please Jake, I need more.” You looked up at him and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, withdrew his fingers and opened his fly. He pulled down his trousers and underwear, revealing his cock. You licked your lips at the sight of it, you were definitely going to enjoy this.

“You better come over here right now.” You whispered, and Jake stepped between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

“Damn, Tapper, fuck me already.” You groaned, and a second later he was thrusting into you in one fluid motion, instantly setting a brutal pace. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress the scream that was bursting out of you at the feeling of being filled so roughly. By now, you were almost lying almost flat on his desk, various clutter digging into your back.

Jakes hand were on your hips again, grabbing them tightly while slamming into you over and over. You had to keep your hand pressed to your mouth to prevent your loud cries from spilling out. Jake was hitting a perfect spot deep inside you with each hard thrust and you already knew you wouldn’t last long.

“I’ve been thinking about this for the whole weekend, throwing you on that desk and fucking you.” He growled through his clenched teeth and hearing him talk like that made your arousal spike. You had never seen him so unhinged, and it was glorious.

“You feel so good inside me Jake, so good, please fuck me harder.” You whimpered, and when he deepened his thrusts it only took another moment till you hit your peak with a guttural cry, a disfigured version of Jakes name falling from your lips.

He fucked you through your climax, never slowing down. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, your mixed breathings and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the office.

When he reached between your legs to rub your clit again, it almost felt like too much, you were overstimulated, but he was relentless, rubbing and pressing until you were on the edge of another orgasm.

“Jake, ugh, I’m going to come again.” You cried, and when he pinched your bud between his fingers you felt like you died and went to heaven. The walls of your pussy were fluttering and clenching down onto his cock as you hit your second peak, this time dragging Jake along with you over the edge. He gave one last forceful thrust and released himself deep inside you with a growl.

After he pulled out, Jake helped you get up from the desk and pulled you against his chest.

“You should have told me earlier.” He said, voice still slightly breathless. “How you felt.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“I wish I had.” You answered. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“What is this too you?” he asked, his voice strangely emotional “What do you want from this?”

“I want you. If you’ll have me?”

The kiss he gave you in response was all the answer you needed.

#jake tapper #cnn #cnn anchors #jake tapper x reader #jake tapper fic #fanfiction #cnn fic #smut

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avocadogirl216 · 3 years

Text

Anything For You

AN: This was requested by @sweetpotato-25. Just FYI I have never written Yandere character before and to be honest I didn’t know what it was until you (@sweetpotato-25) requested it but I quickly learned and made do. I am so sorry if this isn’t as good as you wanted it to be or it wasn’t as long or I got something wrong about Yandere or anything like that. Please let me know if any of these apply to you (Again sweetpotato-25). Also let me know of any mistakes that I have made and let me know of any improvements that I need to make to my writing. Thanks!

Summary: After Dean becomes a demon and leaves Sam, he meets a lovely bartender to which he would do anything for. Even if she doesn’t approve. (Set in beginning of Season 10)

Warnings: Gore, Violence, Language, Character Death, Implied Smut, Kidnapping, Character Being Drugged.

Pairings: Yandere Demon!Dean x Reader, Ethan (OC) x Reader

Word Count: 1669

!TRIGGER WARNING! This is a story that contains kidnapping! Please do not read if you are easily triggered!

(YNs) POV

You were working the graveyard shift alone yet again. You worked at the local bar in Greenville, Tennessee and it was currently 12 am. You’ve been doing that a lot lately to save up for a birthday gift for your husband Ethan. You worked at the local gas station by day and the dingy, loud bar at night. Ethan was a nurse at the small hospital and even though that was a good paying job, you felt awful that he was doing all the work while you sat around all day watching Netflix. He assured you that it was okay but you insisted on getting a job. Besides you wanted to buy the gift with your own hard earned money and not his.

There were currently 12 people at the bar and they were whether drinking, playing pool or eating greasy food while talking among themselves. You were drained and all you wanted to do was close up the bar and go home to your husband who was more than likely already in bed. But sadly you had to wait for all the people to get the hell out and after you closed the bar you still had to walk a couple of blocks to buy Ethan his present. Might as well get it early then forget and give it to him late. A group of 9 people made their way to the door and left. You were about to call out that everyone had to leave when the bell above the door chimed and in walked a handsome man. He’s been coming for the past three days and all he does is flirt with you. You’ve turned him down multiple times but he just couldn’t take a hint.

His eyes caught yours and he made his way over the bar and perched himself onto the bar stool closest to you.

Crap I’m never gonna go home tonight.

You took a deep breath and faced him.

“Hello again.” You said with a fake smile and with fake enthusiasm.

“Hey.” He said followed by a killer smile.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I was just closing up.” You said, just now noticing that the bar was now empty other than you and the mystery man.

“Come on doll face, can’t you make an exception for me?” He asked as he gave you puppy dog eyes with his apple green eyes.

“Sorry rules are rules.” You said as you started to turn away from him to wipe off a table next to the bar. The man suddenly grabbed your hand to keep you from walking away from him. You tried to get your hand out of his steel grasp but he was too strong. “Let go of me.” You commanded with your toughest voice.

His grip didn’t loosen. “I’m afraid you’ll have to insist.” He said as his sparkling green eyes turned into a midnight black. You gasped. You tried harder to get him to let go of you, hitting his muscular arm with all of your might. He smirked at you as he pulled you closer to him. You eventually hit the bar, you on one side and him on the other. The man leaned in closer to your face, like he was coming in for a kiss. Once he was close enough, you head butted him as hard as you could. He grunted and let go of your hand. You made a break for it to the door but the man quickly caught up and wrapped his strong arms around your body. Your hands were pinned to your sides and you couldn’t move to get the large man off of you. One arm was across your torso, holding both of your arms while the other was reaching behind the man so that he could get something. Your breathing was rapid and tears were starting to go down your face.

“Please let me go please.” You cried, choking on your own sobs, struggling against the man as much as you could.

“Shh. It’ll all be okay. I promise.” The man soothed as he brought a syringe out of the waistband of his jeans and poked you in the neck with it. You let out another cry, afraid of what was just injected into you. You started to feel light headed and your vision started to blur. Your body leaned against the mans chest as your eyes started to feel heavy. You fought against the exhaustion but the darkness was winning the seemingly forever battle.

“Everything is going to be fine.” He whispered in your ear right before you fell into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes and raised your head to see that you were in an abandoned warehouse. You were bound by your wrists and ankles by rope to a chair. You struggled as much as you could, trying to loosen the knots that held the ropes but they didn’t budge.

“That won’t do you any good.” The man said as he stalked towards you.

“Who the hell are you?” You yelled at him, not caring if your voice wavered.

“Name’s Dean sweetheart.” He said as a wicked smile spread across his face.

“What do you want with me?” You asked as Dean was getting closer and closer with each second.

“Ever since I saw you in that bar I can’t get my mind off of you. I want you, (YN).” Dean said as he kneeled down in front of you. “Every last bit.” He said as he licked his plump bottom lip with his tongue while looking over your body shamelessly.

You started to feel uncomfortable as his eyes grazed over every inch of your body. You started to shift in your seat due to discomfort. After a minute of admiring you, Dean looked at you in your eyes. “But before I can have you I have to get something out of the way first.” Dean said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out your wedding ring. You looked down at your left hand to see that it was no longer there. “I don’t want anyone to get in the way of me being with you so I have to take matters into my own hands.” Dean said as he stood up and walked into another room to your right. After a minute of being in the room, Dean walks out with Ethan, who had his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth. Tears started to cloud your vision.

“No, please don’t. I’ll give you anything just please let him go.” You begged as tears started to fall down your face. You struggled more against your bindings but it did no use.

“I’m sorry (YN). I truly am but poor Ethan here is just gonna get in the way of us and I simply cannot let that happen. You’ll understand one day.” Dean said as he brought a large hunting knife out of its sleeve that was attached to the waistband of his blue jeans. Ethan's eyes went large when he saw the knife and started to fight against Dean. By now you were bawling, still begging the man to let your husband go, but he didn’t listen. Dean brought the knife to Ethan's throat as his eyes turned pitch black. You and Ethan met eyes for the last time as Dean flicked his wrist and slit his throat. Ethan cried out in pain as loud as he could and crumbled to the floor. You watched as the life of your husband, the man that you have known since you were 15, drained onto the concrete floor, turning the dull gray into a vibrant crimson. Your shrill scream filled the warehouse and you was quickly cut short by your sobs.

Dean walked over to you and kneeled down in front of you once again. He placed the knife down by your foot and placed a almost gentle hand onto the side of your face. You tried to move your head away from him but he moved that hand onto your chin and forced you to look at him. Deans eyes changed back into their apple green and he smiled warmly at you.

“It was the only way (YN).” He said as he stroked his thumb over your cheek.

“Go to hell you son of a bitch!” You practically screamed at him.

Deans face contorted from kindness into pure rage in one second flat. He let go of your face and slapped you hard on your tear stained cheek. You could already feel a bruise starting to form but you barley noticed the pain over the despair and heartbreak from watching your husband die in front of you.

“Please, please just let me go.” You said in a somber voice as a fresh set of tears made their way down your face.

“I don’t think so.” Dean said as he started to untie the ropes around your ankles. “You’re coming with me. Back to my place which I think you’re gonna like.” He said as he leaned in until his mouth was next to your ear. “And I’ll make you enjoy every last second of my idea of fun.” He said in a seductive tone as he continued to untie the ropes, his breath tickling your neck. Eventually you were dragged to your feet by your upper arms. “So what do you say?” Dean asked as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as he looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. You knew that you didn’t have any other choice. He wasn’t gonna kill you but if you didn’t oblige then you wouldn’t like the results. You decided to make it easier on yourself rather than suffer anymore than you have to. You took a deep breath and nodded your head slowly, watching the dark smile return to Deans face.

“This is gonna be fun.”

(So sorry if this was too short)

#spn #supernatural #fanfic #request #demon dean #reader #gore #violence #kinda dark #kidnapping #yandere request #yandere demon dean #drugged #kinda hot ngl #language #implied smut

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onlykyloscenes · 4 years

Text

Matchup (NSFW)

Also available on Ao3!

Summary: A modern au featuring what I am calling Boxer!Ben

Word Count: 2,962

Warning(s): it’s smutty

A/N: Okay so this is extremely short but I just couldn’t get it out of my head. It is also my first attempt at writing smut sooo if it is garbage I’m so sorry lmao

The stairs leading down to the gym entrance clapped under your boots, sending splashes of rainwater onto your pants. That morning you decided rain showers should be reserved for weekends so that you could lay at home and listen to the thunder rolling in from the distance, watch the water trickle onto the window sill. Not for Thursday’s when responsibility pulls you out the door in the morning. You leave the cover of your umbrella for a moment to close it, a few drops of rain-catching in your hair before you duck through the door. There are a few people in the gym, which was rare considering the time of day. Usually, the place was bustling at 6:30 on a Thursday evening. It was the last stop regulars would make before going home for the night.

It’s one of the more popular boxing gyms in the city, and one of the last ones that hasn’t seen an increase in monthly fees despite the struggle to compete with newer, trendier gyms. When there once was what felt like a different boxing gym every few blocks, not there was just this one. Sunk below ground, somehow still drawing people down the stairs and through the door.

It’s been open for 45 long years, still maintaining its charm and foundation. A few major repairs here and there, but other than that it looks straight out of a boxing film. The ring placed in the dead center. There was a line of punching bags along the left side of the gym, reflex bags on the opposite wall. benches lined the perimeter of the ring, with a large matted area behind the ring.

A hallway led to the locker room, only it was co-ed so you only used it when the gym was closed or empty. The owner tried saving to add in a second locker room, but something always came up. He had a kid, a flooding problem one year, a few years with few members. You didn’t mind though, you thought it added to the old-timey charm you liked about the place.

The office was upstairs in a lofted area, visible from the ground floor. There was a small spare room fitting with a bed. The owner said it was where his dad used to slum it when he moved out of his parent’s house. It would’ve been refitted as another locker room, minus any showers, but he couldn’t bring himself to change anything. The owner was pretty sentimental for a boxing coach, so as long as you didn’t mess anything up you were free to use the room as a locker room.

After you changed into a sports bra and athletic leggings, you headed down to the matt. The ring was occupied, you hadn’t noticed on your way in. The gym didn’t have many coaches, but from what you could tell the fighter was sparring with Red. He isn’t the owner, but he’s been around since the beginning.

You didn't recognize the fighter training in the ring. He was aggressive, striking hard and fast. His arms glistened under the florescent lights, and you caught a glimpse of his face as he shuffled around the trainer. Brown hair stuck out in stray strands out of his helmet, framing his dark eyes. His face was peppered with beauty marks, plump pink lips strained against the mouth guard he bit down on. He was larger than most men you'd seen at the gym. Broad shoulders rolled when he pulled his arms up defensively, arms put on display by his loose black tank top.

No, you did not recognize this fighter, but you were eager to become familiar.

You tried to not stare at his bare arms, the muscles rippling when his gloves found their mark. It was then you noticed they were kickboxing, not just boxing. But not just regular kickboxing either. From the looks of it, there weren’t many moves that were off the table.

A well-placed hit sent him staggering back, his body turned to face you slightly. You absentmindedly began stretching, unintentionally putting your figure on display. You caught his eye; before you could say anything, let alone warm him, Red landed another hit to his head. He lost his footing and landed on his back.

You tried to not laugh, you really did. Glancing around you felt some second-handed relief that the other people in the gym weren’t paying attention.

“My hands are over here, Solo,” Red reached a hand down to help the guy up.

Solo

“Come on Red, that one doesn’t count, I was distracted!” If he was angry, you couldn’t tell. He sounded more eager.

Red chuckled and gave Solo a playful his on the arm, “a deals a deal. I get you on the ground I get to go. You’re right on track, Ben. Call it a night.”

Ben

Ben cracked a smile and removed his gloves. You went on with your stretching, but couldn’t help but overhear due to your lack of headphones.

“Thanks for the extra time, Red. I think I’ll just stick around for a little longer,” He nodded and watched Red exit the ring.

“If you say so, maybe somebody here will spar with you,” Red looked and winked at you as he said it, and started towards the office.

You’d just finished the first circuit of your workout when you noticed Ben was standing at the edge of the ring, leaned forward against the ropes. Trying to brush it off, you grabbed your jump rope and started your second circuit. Your heart rate and breathing accelerated, but he still stood there. It was making you self-conscious, the staring. No doubt this was payback.

“Is there something you wanted to say?” Your voice came out in a huff.

He smirked and cocked his head to the side. It stirred something inside you.

The rope caught at your feet, ending your streak. You let out a frustrated breath and rolled the rope tightly.

“I haven’t seen you in here before, did you just join up,” there was a dangerous curiosity in his voice.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to conceal the smile threatening at the corners of your lips, “something like that. I’ve been gone a while and just got back a few weeks ago.”

“In that case,” his voice was low, “wanna hop in the ring? I can show you a few moves. I’ve already sparred with the guys in here.”

Your mouth hung open. He certainly was forward, but to assume he could show you anything was presumptuous. It would be nice to see his chiseled body hit the ground again.

You played along and smiled at him, “sounds like fun.”

He spread the roped with his foot and offered you a hand to help you up. You stood still as he produced a roll of tape from the stool nestled in the corner of the ring. He picked at the edge of the tape and turned back to you. His eyes met yours and didn’t leave as he reached for your hands. They were coarse, massive compared to yours. He slowly worked the tape over your hands, flexing your hands for you to ensure you could move. Your stomach fluttered and you couldn’t keep eye contact with him any longer. You glanced down at your entwined hands and then back up, just in time to catch him smirk and look down at his word.

Ben then outfitted you with a blue helmet patting the top of your head, signaling that you were ready.

You positioned yourself in the center of the ring and took a stance. Ben mimicked you and raised his hands.

“I’ll go easy on you, just try to block me,” you bit the inside of your cheek again and raised your arms. This would be good.

He threw the first punch with his right arm and you made your move. You dodge to the left ever so slightly and hooked your right arm with his. Pulling him towards you and off-balance, you leaned to reach your right leg behind his ankle and shove him onto his back. You released his arm when he landed, ensuring you wouldn’t fall on top of him.

His mouth hung open in disbelief, maybe even a little embarrassment, realizing that you weren’t the inexperienced gym-goer he thought you were. Ben found his footing and removed his helmet. To say you were temporarily speechless would have given you more credit than you deserved. Of course, he was gorgeous. Brown hair fell in waves around his face, stray strands falling to cover his dark eyes. His lips were pink, full, and beauty marks decorated his face.

“What was that? You didn’t say- why- where did you learn that?” he wasn’t embarrassed, he was impressed.

You laughed and nodded your head towards the front door, “my last names on the front of the gym. My family’s owned the gym since before I was born,” you said the name of the gym’s owner, your dad as if to ask if Ben was familiar with the name, “he’s my dad.”

“Let me know if you ever want to go again,” you discarded the helmet and hopped down from the ring, taking one last glance at Ben’s still stunned expression, “I’ll go easy on you.”

You finished your workout as the last person left the gym, taking the responsibility of closing up for the night. Ben had continued working out as well, the both of you stealing glances here and there. Now he was absent, having must have slipped out when you were grabbing your bag from the upstairs room. You double-checked that both entrances were locked before heading into the locker room, headphones drumming music into your ears.

You threw your bag down on the bench before stripping out of your clothes and into a towel. Grabbing a bag of toiletries, you switched on a Bluetooth speaker and connected your phone, planning to a long soothing shower. You wandered through the door less entryway of the shower area, still warm from previous showers. Head down you placed the bag and speaker on the bench along the wall.

You paused the music to choose a different song just as someone cleared their throat, a startled squeal escaping you. The cylinder-shaped speaker crashed to the ground and rolled down the uneven floor towards the shower cubbies on the opposite wall. You turned and quickly raised your eyes, skipping over the naked body your speaker landed near.

Miscounted. You had miscounted the number of guys leaving the gym.

“I guess that’s payback for surprising me earlier,” it was Ben you had walked in on.

The one person you didn’t see leave. He stood in full view, the showerhead sputtering a weak stream of water out silently. He made no move to conceal himself, moving only to brush the brown hair from his eyes. The stalls offered no help of course; each showerhead only separated by a wall that reached just above his elbow, with no curtains to offer privacy. Your eyes skated back down to your speaker, which threatened to roll into the water in his stall.

You scurried to pluck the speaker from the ground, clutching your towel in a death grip. You couldn’t help but dance your eyes over him as you rose, everywhere except there. You didn’t need to examine it to know it was massive.

There wasn’t a part of his body not hardened by muscles, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You felt a shiver run down your body and settle in the core of your womanhood. You clenched your thighs together and met his gaze.

You could’ve melted right then. There was a desire in his eyes as he glanced at you from the corners. He let the water run over his face, before moving from direct contact of the stream to wipe the water from his eyes. He cracked a smile, tempting you.

“Don’t tell me this is the part where you ask me to shower with you to conserve water,” your voiced betrayed you and broke as you challenged him.

He cocked an eyebrow, amused, “no way.”

There was a part of you that wanted to drown under the shower head. A part of you wanted him to invite you into his stall. You couldn’t believe yourself, of course, he didn’t want to fuck you, he was probably creeped out that you were still standing there.

“This shower has shitty water pressure, and besides, I don’t just want to shower with you,” his hands reached out to cup your face and pull you in.

Your towel fell and pooled at your feet as his lips crashed against yours, drawing you closer into him. His lips moved with yours, drawing a groan deep from his throat. Your hands felt their way up his body and buried themselves in the hair at the back of his neck. Ben’s hands wandered down from your face, caressing your sides before digging into your hips. He pulled you hard against him, and you felt his obvious arousal press against you. It ignited a fire between your legs, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair.

His mouth opened to accept your tongue, and you let out a gasped moan. The grip on your hips tightened and pushed you against the wall. His lips left your mouth and trailed down to your jaw, to your neck. He sucked his way down your neck before leaving a light nip on your shoulder with his teeth. Your hands continued to search through his hair, tugging on the strands when he reached the stiffened peak on your breast.

Your breathing hitched as he kissed down your stomach, a hungered want growing in your core. Ben smirked against your skin and his hand reached to cup your thigh. One hand kept you steady while the other drew your thigh up, resting your leg over his shoulder. Your chest heaved as he kissed his way up your thigh, your clit desperate to feel his soft lips.

Finally, he buried his lips into the folds of your pussy, groaning as he drags his tongue from bottom to top. You whined and arched your back, begging for more contact. He teased your outer lips, laying his tongue flat against your cunt before plunging it between your folds

His tongue found your clit and pulled it between his lips, “fuck!”

He smirked against you and swirled his tongue faster. He drove his face harder against your folds, devouring the fluids that ran from your entrance. You wiggled in his grasp, wanton moans escaping your lips each time his tongue danced over your clit.

“Yes, fuck,” his tongue pressed against your clit, sucking it mercilessly, you could feel the pressure building inside you, “I can't- I’m gonna,”

Your jaw hung open, no words escaping as he pushed you over the edge. Euphoria shook your body, threatening to make your legs buckle had Ben not been there to hold you up. Your breath rattled through your chest as he slid his tongue up your slits, lengthening your aftershocks.

Ben sat back on his heels, licking the remainder of you off his lips.

His eyes devoured every inch of you before settling back on your throbbing womanhood.

“God, I’m going to wreck that little cunt,” it came out in a growl, the words traveling right towards your core.

He rose back to his feet and pressed you back into the wall, hoisting you up into his arms. You felt his hardened cock poke at your entrance, the slick of his precum mixing with the aftermath of your first climax. Your ankles locked behind his back as he pulled you down onto him. Your cunt clenched against his throbbing member, dragging it further into you. Ben hissed through his teeth once he was fully sheathed inside you.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he fucked up into you, fingers digging into your ass.

Ben’s stroked were long and languid, drawing out pleasured moans from your chest. Your face sunk into his shoulder, teeth digging into the cap of his shoulder. This only spurred Ben on, his hips thrusting harder up into you. His lips sucked against your neck, his breath hot breath panting.

You drew back, head pressing back against the wall, your back arching for a better angle. A wave of pleasure washed through you, drawing appraisals from your lips. Ben’s attention

His breathing became ragged and you could tell he was close. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, begging for a release.

“Please,” you called out at his fingers trailed from your ass to your clit, “don’t stop.”

The pressure inside you built back up as his fingers rubbed mercilessly against your clit. Ben cried out your name as he continued to slam inside you.

“I’m gonna make,” he huffed out between thrusts, “a fucking mess of this pussy.”

You cried out as he circled your clit, a surge of pleasure coursing through you. You clamped down on his pulsing length, every inch of you shaking as you came down hard around his cock. Ben’s hip sputtered as he reached his climax, his cock spilling his cum into you, sending it further with each thrust.

Your body slumped against his, and he held fast. With his swollen member still throbbing inside you, he carried your body into the shower stream. You felt it warm against your shoulder as he turned the dial. Slowly your breaths steadied, falling into sync with each other.

Ben’s head turned to look you in the eye, your cheek laid against his shoulder.

He gave you another smirk, “how about round two?”

#ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #ben solo and you #ben solo smut #kylo ren #boxer!ben #onlykyloscenes #star wars au #star wars modern au #modern ben solo

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laketaj24 · 5 years

Text

Money: Bjorn

Author’s Note: Heyyyy!!! This fic is dedicated to like my DEMON TWIN!!!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!! Happy Birthday BITCHHHHHH!!!!! You are the sweetest person ever! And it has truly been a privilege to get to know and write with someone as bad ass and real as yourself!! They don’t even know what is coming for them!! Just wait on it!!!! I hope this day has been amazing for you!!! Here’s the fucking SMUT. AS promised!!!! @imgoldielikehawn (might be some typos) (gif by me)

Warnings: Hair Pulling, Strippers, Smut

Pairings: Bjorn X Stripper!Reader

Viking Masterlist

Requested:

10. "You look so pretty with your head in my lap" what about with Bjorn?- @bluearchersstuff

If you’re still doing the Daddy prompts, will you please do the “Now where did you learn to dance like that?” One? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️ - Anon

thirst day request for hair pulling with either Bjorn or Uhtred - Anon

A call from the Lothbroks was the last thing Ace of Diamonds expected but it was rented out, the entire building, ever A list stripper and a sold out bar. This was to be some event. Your partner ran across the floor waring no shoes, your nose snarled at her immediately, nasty ass floors.

“Are you gonna watch me work or are you gonna move these fucking chairs?” She barked.

“I’m working.” You flourished your freshly painted toenails and sat backdown in the couch. “Who are these fucking men anyway?”

“They’re from out of town. They’re bothers the oldest rented out the place, one of the other brothers is getting married. Only A-Listers.” She reiterated.

You didn’t need the reminder. You were the A-List. You stand from the chair and leave her to ramble on alone. Your dressing room was well lit and private, like everything else you had in your life you wanted it to stay that way. You lay out the outfit for tonight. You were the highlight of the show, so gold everything would do just fine.

They start to arrive, and the gang of girls act as if they have never seen men before. You listen laughing to yourself.

Did you see the one with the fucking dimples? Or the huge one? Even the older ones look like fucking gods.

Thirsty Hoes. You rolled your eyes watching from the side of the stage as the first two girls took the stage. They could dance. But they were basic. You didn’t even need to dance to survive anymore, you owned the club, but the money called your name and the pole kept your body in shape.

The men were nice looking compared to some of the patrons that came into the place on a regular. You were the midpoint of the show, what brought in the money. The music started over the intercom and the speakers rocked the entire club. You were to start from the roof, and you descended whirling around the pole until you landed in the split and the lights came on.

The act went great. The crowd cheered, all but one guy, the blond in the middle of the crowd. He sat stone faced staring at you with his hand gripping his chin. He was unmoved. It bothered you that he didn’t care. You were the baddest stripper in this place, he needed to act like it. You too the exit to the left heading to your dressing room. Home was calling your name, Ace could handle the closing tonight. She would have too, you were tired.

You walked into the room closing it behind you and then you see him in your chair waiting. The stone faced gazer. “This room is private.” You said quickly. “you can leave.”

“I know it’s private. It’s why I’m here.” He adjusted his blazer and then peered back up to you. What is your name, Diamond?”

“Stage name.” you rolled your eyes. “This is a private room. I don’t care how fine you are, you have got to get your ass out.” You rest your hands firmly on your hips and wait for him to go. Where in the hell were your body guards at this point? Why was no one doing their fucking jobs around here? At the next fucking meeting you would have to address it.

“So, you are part owner here?”

He was a nosey bastard. A nosey correct, intuitive, sexy ass bastard. “What the fuck do you want?’

“I want you to watch that sexy ass mouth, close the door and listen to my proposal.” He paused and you felt inclined to follow every direction that he had just given. What in the fuck was wrong with you? “Now.” He said.

You closed the door and folded your arms over your chest. “What?”

“I want to fuck you.” He was frank.

“You and every other man in this club, and?”

“Arrogant.” He smirked. “Every other man in this club isn’t offering you one million dollars. I am. What do you say?”

“One million?” your mouth dropped. You would have fucked him for free. The sexy ass stranger in your dressing/rehearsal room looked like a god damn god. “what’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. I am a simple man. I offered you a simple proposition. I deserve a simple answer. Next thing from that foul mouth of yours should be yes or a no… diamond.”

You pause. Why the fuck no? Sex with a sexy ass man and you came out one million dollars richer. “Yes.”

Good. He slid out of his blazer and placed it on the table behind him. “Take off your clothes.” Bjorn said from the leather backed chair. He sat with his legs gapped and his long fingers clasped and rested in his lap. “Now.”

“Nah, daddy. That ain’t how this work.” You look at him unphased by the hard stance he was giving you. One million or not, he didn’t run shit.

“How does it work it then?”

“You shut the fuck up and enjoy or I leave.”

“We’ll see.”

The private room didn’t have much space but when the music started you forgot everything that was going on around you ceased as you ran up to pole and climbed to the top. Your legs latch on as you start to spin and you Bjorn lean forward. You land in the split with your eyes hooked on him and your hands sliding down to your clit. You crawl over to him. He’s in the perfect position to ride.

He watches. His face is still. You move his hands and attempt to unbutton his pants and then he grips your hands and shakes his head. “That’s not how this works.” He pulls you up on your feet. “Take off your clothes, crawl back to me and suck.”

Your hand reacts before the words can as it hit the side of his face and you take a step back. “I told you that’s not how this-,” His hand grips your neck and your taken back, flooded with arousal and fear at the same time. The fuck?

“Yeah, but you don’t run shit. I do.” He reached down picking up the rope. “This’ll be easier if you just say yes daddy and take off those clothes, Diamond.” In one pluck of your top it falls to the ground. Bjorn takes a step back and allows you space to breathe. “And that slap was free, the next one will cost you.”

That wasn’t your name, but you didn’t even give a fuck at this moment as you stepped out of your clothes and sink to your knees. Your hands touch the cool floor and your back curves. You crawl over to him… “Is that what you wanted.”

His large hand comes down to cover your whole ass cheek with a loud smack and the pleasure rushes you. “Now suck.” Bjorn commands.

Where to fucking start? Your eyes admire his cock, starting with the thick vein the curved around the shaft. It curved back onto his shirt, you wanted to see him out of it. Your mind raced and then the large hand gripped a hand full of your hair pushing your plush lips to the tip of it and then you take all of him. He hits the back of your throat and then pulls you back up and you start to find your rhythm as he guides your head up and down to his own preferred pace. His cock stretched your mouth till it nearly hurt but you couldn’t think about that. His moans were carnal, melodic and they made your pussy eager. You wanted to hear it again. You suck him again swallowing around him and then swirling your tongue around the tip and he bucks his hips pulling your hair,

“You look so pretty with your head in my lap. Those pretty lips around my dick.” His words strained as his grip tightened around your hair and he pulled you from him. “You like the way daddy’s cock taste?” He asked. The lust seeped from his voice.

“Yes.” You wiped your mouth peering up at him.

His kink must have been your hair as he pulled you from your knees up to your feet by it. He leaned down placing a quick kiss on your lips and flipped you around to see yourself in the mirrored wall. His long finger trails down your stomach to the mound above your pussy and then dives into you. You hiss through your clench teeth. “Now who taught you to dance like that huh?” He pushes into you deep curling his finger to hit your g-spot and then like it was nothing he pulls his fingers from you and sucks them. “So fucking sweet.” Bjorn steps back and out of his dress pants. He unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the chair and stands before you naked, a fucking glorious sight it was. “Why are you doing this?” He asked surprisingly.

“Money.” You turned to him with the seductive grin on your face.

The next song started, and Bjorn sat down in the chair. “I think it’s more than that but come take a seat.”

You walk over to him nearly rolling your eyes, but you stop yourself as you drape your arms over his neck and he lines the head of his cock at your entrance. He ran it quick, once, twice and then a third time drenching it with you and then like it was nothing slammed into you. Your mouth stilled with a formed O and a hitched breath.

“Speechless.” He smirked.

Cockily you shook your head winding your hips on him. He was so fucking big. Thick and perfect. He was setting out to ruin you as he allowed you ride him, the heel allowed you to thrust wind and get that perfect tingle on your clit. And it started. The build up to what you were there for. You watched Bjorn. He was composed but his subtle groans, moans and hisses were nearly enough to make you cum.

Your hands rose and fell over the rigid abs and you soaked his thighs with your cum. “you like this wet pussy don’t you daddy?” You smiled leaning in nipping his ear.

He laughs and as if he knew you already placed two fingers on your clit and rubbed and you exploded, inside and out. Your head is thrown back as you bounce up and down on him digging your nails into his shoulders as your body convulses on him. “I think your pussy likes this dick more.” His arms enclose you and he drills you. The smacks of your skin meeting his is all you can hear. What fucking music? You scream as your nails dig into the flesh of his back and are wet with his blood. WHAT. THE. FUCK. “No, you can take it.” He says as you try to push up on your feet.” He slams you back on him and yon can feel that sly smile on the side of your face as you cum again and again. The cum runs down your leg dripping to the floor. Your body shatters in ripples. Every single movement is amplified and then he’s early there. You can tell as he tenses and his eyes close, but nothing slows. He’s faster. His pace is frantic, racing and he’s desperate. Your walls grip and clench around him milking him to cum and he does. The melodic cry escapes as his cum warms your walls.

It’s over. But you’re not sure you want it to be. You compose yourself, taking deep breathes and wincing as you stand and he falls out of you still semi hard somehow. Bjorn notices your eyes. He was hard not to look at, fucking masterpiece that he was. He leans over and takes the card from his pocket. “This is my card.”

“I didn’t fuck you for a card.” You smile taking the small black matte card from him. You slide into the dress and walk over to the door.

“Come to my office tomorrow morning, I will have the cash for you.” He winked. “And maybe more of what you really wanted.”

“We will see about that Bjorn Lothbrok is it?”

“Oh no, it’s daddy to you.”

Taglist: @ivarsshieldmadien @equalstrashflavoredtrash @whenimaunicorn @akamaiden @siren-queen03 @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @wilddrabble @imgoldielikehawn @greennightspider @tomarisela @scumyeol @raindrop-dewdrop @naaladareia @vikingsmania @readsalot73 @oddsnendsfanfics @amour-quinn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @unsure-but-trying @lisinfleur @ceridwenofwales @leaderradiante @microsmacrosandneedles @valynsia @captstefanbrandt @therealcalicali @lol-haha-joke @b-j-d @cinnabearice @tephi101 @grungyblonde @ivarslittlebadgirll @igetcarriedawaywithyou @honestsycrets @sunnyfortomorrow @earthsmightiestasses @sincerelysinister @dangerousvikings @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @tgrrose @tierneygonzalez @ivaraddict @alicedopey @brownsugerhippy @purplerain85 @quaint-and-curious-being @doloreschanal @ilvebeenabad @strangunddurm @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @pebblesz892 @young-ugly-god @blackspiritshake @starrmoondaisy @trailerthoughtstexas @booyouwhore @athroatfullofglass @riottkatt @honeyofthegods @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jennadoll19-blog @khiraeth @geekandbooknerd @innerpaperexpertcloud @rabeccablake @savismith @boo-youwhoreeee-blog @chinduda @funmadnessandbadassvikings @kawennote09 @innerpaperexpertcloud

#bjorn #Bjorn Ironside #modern bjorn #bjorn x reader #vikings #laketa j writes #laketaj24 #imgoldie #bjorn fan fiction #vikings fandom #vikings fan fiction

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robinrunsfiction · 5 years

Note

would you be able to write something set in the sixteen candles mv with Pete where the reader gets turned and it has angst and fluff but no smut. that would be really cool :) i love your writing btw, if you're too busy that's cool

Let’s Be Alone Together, We Could Stay Young Forever

Pairing: Vampire Pete Wentz x Female ReaderRating: GeneralRequested By: @i-knowthe-worlds-a-broken-boneWord Count: ~3,000Author’s Note: So when I first got this request, I was working on that Patrick x Reader story I called “A Little Less Sixteen Candles” and I kinda freaked out a bit at first haha! But honestly, the A Little Less… music video is one of my favorites from Fall Out Boy, and like everyone else who has been stanning them since 2005, I’m still waiting for the sequel to that video. Since we’ll probably never get it, here is my contribution to what could be. I hope you enjoy!

You were walking home from work and you should have known better. You knew it was dangerous to be out late at night without someone to protect you. And yet here you were, caught in the dark alley that you had ducked down when you saw the Dandies approaching. You watched from the shadows as the events unfolded; four hunters piled out of a car, gangs of vampires fought each other, girls were hypnotized by the Dandies and drained of their lives. It was a chaotic scene. One of the hunters was different from the other three you noticed. He moved so much faster than the others, then you caught a glimpse of his fangs. You were so confused by the vampire fighting against his own kind.

Suddenly the police arrived, and you felt relief, until you saw them arresting the hunters. You shook your head, not understanding what you were seeing. When everyone was distracted in the moment, you decided the coast was sufficiently clear, and you ran toward your home, finally back to safety.

You were still shaking slightly as you reached into your pocket for your keys. As you pulled them out, you fumbled them. You muttered obscenities under your breath as you bent down to pick them up. As you stood up, you noticed the shadow behind you. You whipped around and recognized who it belonged to immediately.

“Good evening, doll.”

Pete shuffled along the quiet streets. Since the fight, all the gangs except for the Dandies had retreated to lick their wounds. The priest had bailed Patrick, Joe, Andy and himself out of jail, but they were still waiting to hear back about the charges of assault, battery, and disturbing the peace that had been leveled against them.

William was taunting him. Ever since he turned Pete, he had been trying to get him to join the Dandies. He believed Pete would become a loyal of a follower when he turned him, but Pete didn’t not abandon his friends and he vowed to avenge his humanity.

Pete walked slowly up to his favorite park but was surprised to see someone was already there, sitting on the bench under the lamppost. Their shoulders were slumped, and their head hung low. Pete recognized them to not be human as he approached.

“Hey, umm, are you ok?”

You looked up, startled. “Yea,” you mumbled.

Pete sat down next to you. “No, I recognize this, you recently got turned, didn’t you? It’s ok, I’m… I’m not gonna hurt you. Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” you said softly. It was all you could muster. “I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“What’s your name?” He asked, concern etched across his face.

“(YN).”

“I’m Pete,” he replied with a small smile.

“You’re the one who was fighting the other night,” you said, finally placing where you had seen him before.

“Yea,” he replied, suddenly discouraged. “Fuckin lot of good it did. I almost had the asshole that turned me.”

“He turned me too,” you said quietly.

“Seriously? That fuckin…” he trailed off, then looked back at you. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“If I would have stopped him, you wouldn’t be a… a vampire right now.”

You glanced up at him, but started to see spots. Pete watched as you blinked hard.

“Are you ok? Hey, (YN)?” You heard him asking as your vision went dark around the edges. Pete grabbed your shoulders as you started to slip back. He easily scooped you up, knowing what he needed to do.

Pete rushed through the door, just minutes after leaving the park, and gently set your body down on the couch.

“Pete, what the hell did you do? Who is that?” Patrick said jumping up from his workbench as his friend rushed to the kitchen.

“Nothing!” He shouted back over his shoulder as he grabbed the pitcher of red liquid from the fridge, then a clean glass, and hurried back to where you were laying. He poured the glass and then looked back at Patrick. “Are you gonna help or just stand there?”

Patrick shrugged in frustration, unaware that he was supposed to be doing anything. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get her sitting up so she doesn’t choke.”

Patrick grabbed you under the arms and pulled you up. Pete poured the concoction down your throat and waited. He could see you reflexively swallowing the liquid and then you coughed and opened your eyes.

“What happened? Where am I?” You asked, looking from Pete, back at Patrick. “What did you give me?”

“It’s ok, we were talking in the park and you passed out. I brought you back to my place, this is Patrick,” he said gesturing to the man behind you. “He makes me this to keep me from needing to go hunting.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, taking in everything he said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my fault this happened to you. I’m gonna look out for you now,” he said taking your hand. You looked down at it. You weren’t in much of a position to say no to any kind of ally you could get.

“Will you show me how to make that, so I don’t have to… you know,” you trailed off.

“Yea, come on, I’ll show you right now,” he said getting up and leading you into the kitchen.

Over the next few weeks, Pete showed you the ropes of being a new vampire. You knew you were now nocturnal, but you didn’t fully understand what you needed to do or what you could do with these supernatural powers. You would spend you nights with him, learning from him, and getting to know him and his friends. Before dawn, he would walk you home, even though the streets seemed to be empty. It was just as dangerous to be a vampire on the streets as a human, different factions that would be quick to stake you for even daring to be on their street at the wrong time.

Word started to spread that William was enraged that you not only dared defy him by not joining the Dandies, but also because you had aligned yourself with Pete. He had originally wanted Pete to join him, to help him rule the streets, but now he’d be satisfied if you were both eliminated.

You had come to appreciate Pete, and the protection he swore to provide to you. The appreciation slowly grew into admiration, and then affection. On the nights you spent with him and his friends, you found yourself watching them playing their music, completely enthralled. He was electrifying to watch; jumping, spinning, flying through the air.

“I really love watching you guys play, you’re really great,” you said as he walked you back to your house after they had practiced late into the night.

“Thanks. One day, we’re gonna be done fighting vampires, get out of this town and make it big.”

You nodded. “I know it will happen for you guys.”

“You’ll come with us, right?”

“What?”

“When we finally make it out, you should come with us,” he said with a grin lighting up his face.

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “We’ll see.”

You arrived at your door step. “Thanks for seeing me home, Pete.”

“Of course,” he said with a smile.

You wanted to say something more, but then you noticed the light on the horizon. You quickly glanced down at your watch.

“How did it get so late?”

Pete turned to look at the horizon as the sun started to threaten you both with its rays.

“If I hurry, I might make it in time.”

“No, come on, you’ll be safer in here,” you said pulling him inside. You had carefully covered all of your windows with blackout curtains shortly after you had been turned. Not a hint of natural light slipped around the edges.

Pete looked around the room, taking it in as you switched on a small lamp, casting the room in a warm golden glow. It looked exactly like he had expected a space belonging to you would look like.

“I know you prefer sleeping in your,” you paused, unsure of the right word to use. “Coffin? Crypt? Sarcophagus? Whatever you call it, but you can sleep in my bed, it’s the least I can offer you.”

“Don’t worry about it, (YN),” he reassured sitting down on the couch, patting the spot next to him. You sat down and started talking, neither of you quite tired yet. You were still adjusting to your new schedule and frequently found yourself awake for hours in bed, staring in the dark at the ceiling, contemplating the future that now expanded seemingly for all eternity.

“Have you considered learning how to use your powers to fight?” Pete asked tentatively.

“Oh, no. I’m not a fighter, if I was, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten turned, you know?” You said shaking your head.

“I think you’d be great. We have the training space if you ever want to use it,” he said with a smile. You had really come to love that smile. It was so big, bright and true. You found yourself smiling back reflexively but then looked down. You had become self-conscious about your smile since your fangs came in.

“(YN),” he started before tilting your chin up with his fingers. “You don’t have to hide your smile from me. I understand what’s going on.”

You gave him a shy, tight-lipped smile as you noticed Pete glance down at your lips. You looked back up in his eyes. He slipped his hand from under your chin to the side of your face, cupping it gently before he leaned in.

You didn’t know what to expect from your first kiss as a vampire. So many things had changed, senses heightened different sensitivities that you never had before. You now had an indifference to temperature, and pain was dulled. But this was unlike anything you could have expected.

It felt as if there was a spark igniting as your lips connected with Pete’s. You gasped as you pulled back, glancing in his eyes to determine if he felt it too. He looked as shocked as you felt before both of you met in the middle, lips crashing back together. His hand slipped back from your cheek to tangle in your hair. You draped your arms over his shoulders and pulled him closer, as if you weren’t able to get enough of him.

That evening you woke up on your couch, Pete sleeping behind you, his arms wrapped snug around you, holding you against his chest. He felt you starting to move around and pressed a kiss against your neck.

“Evening,” he murmured as you rolled over to face him.

“Hey. Is it dark yet?”

Pete pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time.

“Yea it is. Do you wanna come over tonight?”

You nodded sleepily in reply. “I don’t wanna get up yet though.”

Pete laughed and pulled you tight against him, happy to spend the quiet, sleepy moments with you.

When you finally made it back to the hideout, you watched Andy and Pete throw stakes at the targets.

“Wanna try?” Pete asked, holding out the piece of wood.

“I dunno,” you said watching the way Andy threw the piece of wood with such strength.

“You can do it,” Andy called over your shoulder.

“Won’t hurt to try,” Pete said with a smile that could convince you of anything.

“Ok fine,” you said getting up.

“Ok, so stand like this,” Pete said, taking the proper stance for you to mimic. You followed suit and then he came up behind you, his hands guiding your hips to turn square to the target. “Now take this,” he said putting the stake in your hand. “And pull your arm back like this,” he instructed as his arm molded against yours, moving it through the motion a few times.

Andy tried to control his snickering as he watched this all play out. He was quite amused by the scene in front of him.

“Ok, you got it, throw if for real this time, don’t be afraid to put some heat on it,” Pete said taking a step back.

You pulled your arm back as Pete instructed and threw. It didn’t take as much effort as you thought and the stake was flying through the air before lodging in the center of the target.

“I think we got a secret weapon,” Andy commented with a grin.

You had been afraid of what learning to fight might awaken in you, but you felt better and better the more you learned. You were fully in control of your instincts, and a force to be reckoned with, but Pete reassured he would only put you into the fight if you wanted in.

“Tonight is the night, gentlemen,” William announced to his legion of followers. “We’re going to turn the rest of that annoying little band of hunters that follows Pete around, I’m going to claim (YN) as my own, and I’m going to make Pete watch all of it before I personally stake his heart for making me go through all this damn trouble!”

The room was filled with cheers of agreement and excitement at the prospect of what the night held.

“It sounds like tonight’s the night,” Patrick reported to his friends as he put down his phone. “The Dandies are on the move.”

You swallowed thickly. You weren’t ready for this. It had been a couple weeks of throwing stakes and shooting net guns, but you were certain you couldn’t hold your own in a fight yet. “I- I can’t do it Pete, please don’t make me fight,” you pleaded.

He looked in your eyes, saw the fear and nodded. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want, I’ll keep you safe,” his tone matched the gravity of the situation that was written across his face.

The guys loaded up their equipment and piled into their car. You watched from the door of the hideout as they drove off.

The Dandies were waiting for them in the park when they arrived. William only brought his best fighters, Brendon, Spencer, and Michael. Pete once again was the first to approach, flanked by Patrick, Joe and Andy.

“I’ll give you one more chance to make this easy,” William taunted. “Join me and we’ll turn your friends instead of drinking them dry. Wait, we’re missing one. Where’s the doll?”

“This is between us,” Pete replied. “Leave my friends alone.”

“I think not,” William replied dryly. “Boys?”

With that, the other three vampires charged at the humans. Pete launched himself at William, which took him off guard, as Pete had gotten stronger and faster since the last time they fought. Pete knocked him to the ground and landed a punch, stunning William before he shifted his weight, easily throwing Pete off him. Pete staggered back before charging back at him.

Meanwhile you paced around the hideout, looking at all the stakes you had thrown into the targets on the wall. It didn’t feel right hiding away while they risked their lives. You took a deep breath, steeled your nerves, and ran out the door toward where they had told you they were going. When you arrived at the park, Joe, Andy and Patrick were standing over three incapacitated vampires, but Pete was still locked in battle with William.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you ran up to the guys.

“Its been like this for a while, they’re too evenly matched,” Joe replied.

Then you felt eyes on you. “There’s the doll,” William smirked. “Such a shame she’ll have to watch you die. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and the rest of them.”

Pete snarled at William, but the comment had the desired effect, distracting Pete enough for William to overpower him. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, the snarling vampire on top of him, fangs gleaming under the street lights.

“No!” you cried out as you rushed to the two vampires, the attention of both of them on you.

“You look even better than the night I turned you, doll,” William said. “But you’ll have to wait,” he said as he grabbed you by the neck and tossed you aside like a rag doll. Your back hit a tree and you slid to the ground. You looked up just in time to see William looming over Pete, fangs again bared. Then a movement as quick as a flash and William staggered back, stumbling then falling to the ground, a stake protruding from his chest.

You got up and were back to Pete in an instant, helping him off the ground.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” You asked, looking him up and down.

“I’m fine, but (YN), you were amazing! He had no clue you had dropped that stake, you saved me!” he said wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around.

“I thought for sure he’d notice! I’m just glad I could help!”

Pete set you down and cupped your cheeks in his hands as his pressed a passionate kiss to your lips and you again felt the electricity between you.

The other guys came over then and everyone congratulated each other on a job finally well done.

“Now you guys can finally get to what you truly love, making music,” you said as everyone made their way back to the car.

“You’re what I truly love,” Pete whispered in your ear. You looked up at him grinning before he scooped you up in another spine tingling kiss.

Masterlist

#requested #pete wentz x reader #vampire pete wentz #pete wentz fan fic #pete wentz fan fiction #pete wentz imagine #fall out boy fan fiction #a little less sixteen candles a little more touch me #vampire au #sorry william beckett I still love you #i-knowthe-worlds-a-broken-bone

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poetickitten · 5 years

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❄️ December Writing ❄️

So. This was a pretty productive month! Here, I am going to list all the prompt fills I’ve done this month, for your convenience (at not at all trick me into thinking I’ve accomplished something :P).

stepped out of the cold grave and onto the pyre (nsfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: E! for Explicit, angst, fluff and smut

Warnings: mildly pornographic, but very loving, angst

Summary: Solas howling at the moon in general and deliberating whether to yield and go to her. (He does, course he does :)

silence/shroud (sfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: M for Mature, angst

Warnings: angsty, mention of major character death

Summary: After he has torn down the Veil, the world is shrouded in perfect silence. Solas cannot yet tell, whether everything has gone according to plan, and as he tries to determine what is happening around him, he realizes he is not alone.

through with love pt. 1 (nsfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: M for Mature, mild smut

Warnings: mention of an erection, mild smut, implied dom/sub dynamic

Summary: AU (sort of noir-ish). Solas visits the nightclub where she works as a Blues singer. He has been trying to forget about her, but the memories of their recent encounters (he really cannot stay away) won’t leave him be. He comes up with (a very self-indulgent, on my part) idea to both get this need for her closeness out of his system and, maybe, getting her to staying away.

through with love pt. 2 (nsfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: E! for Explicit Content, not so mild smut

Warnings: porn, BDSM, dom/sub dynamic, consensual and thoughtful

Summary: Solas putting his naughty plan of part 1 into action. Pure, unadulterated porn.

Daisy (sfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: T for Teen and above audiences, fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: The original Squad (™) are out scouting the Hinterlands when the fluffiest of fluffy creatures, an innocent fennec, gets caught in the heat of battle. Solas (The Fennec Whisperer) and Varric (fennec-uncle) help Lokil nursing the animal back to health; a tender occasion, which allows the not-quite-yet-new-lovers to bridge the little bit of nervous space that is still left between them. Another kind of heated battle!

Also: Pets!

Has elf toes. And elf ears. *swoon*

besotted (sfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: G for General Audiences, fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: After the events of ‘Daisy’, Lokil struggles to overcome her nervousness with this new, not yet fully established relationship. Featuring: Dorian Pavus!

unsteady (nsfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: E! for Explicit Content, smut

Warnings: mention of an erection, beginning of rope play, BDSM, kink, dom/sub, consensual and thoughtful

Summary: Solas is never quite alone. Whenever he closes his eyes, his past mistakes stare back at him in the form of a dark, mocking, cruel beast inside his head. He gathers all of his defiance and attempts to ground himself and his new love for Lokil in reality by ‘binding her love to him’.

steady (nsfw) (link to follow)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: E! for Explicit Content, smut

Warnings: porn, BDSM, rope play, dom/sub dynamic, consensual and thoughtful, kink

Summary: As above, Solas putting his plans into action. Porny porn!

hell hath no fury (sfw)

Pairing: Lokil Lavellan x Solas

Rating: G for General Audiences, fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: Three years have passed since the events of the Exaulted Council. Finally, the day has come; she has managed to track Solas down. But this meeting doesn’t end with him stomping her into the dirt this time. She kicks some butt! She needs to vent. She likes his butt. So do I.

Goals for next month: Thanks to some welcome feedback, I am going to try for more clarity in my writing. I was told that some characters’ intentions weren’t always as clear as they could be. Also, I am way too much in love with long, overly complicated sentence structure, partly because I sometimes do have trouble with the language (no native speaker, me).

Also, I need to plan better, develop a more steady rhythm. Right now, I only sit down and write whenever inspiration happens to hit. I don’t want to depend on that. At the same time, I’ve been having trouble with anxiety before, during and after writing, which I would like to calm down and learn how to handle better.

Edit:

Oh, and: If you like my writing, reblogs of this post are very much appreciated, (but never necessary, of course. No pressure :) !

#a kitty tries to write #thinking about changing this tag:)#I AM writing after all #december writing

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griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

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GET UP & WRITE! Section 1: “You’ve caught me at a really bad time.”

Warning: SMUT AHEAD. Smut between two elves and a human, all three are males. DO NOT CONTINUE TO THE END IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. There’s plenty of ques to tell you when it’ll happen so you can read it till then or just not if you don’t want to.

The Archdeamon was now crippled and hiding behind hoards of darkspawn and Vararis was putting the last reserves of his strength into getting through.

“Vararis!” Alistair shouts and the elf jumps back away from an attack but puts his back to Alistair’s, somewhere in the mess Wynne was warding and Zevran was keeping the spawn away from her. Hopefully.

“Yeah?” The elf asks panting as they push out a slight space around them. Alistair can’t take it it’s been just eating him on the inside. The elf had hit on him he’d blushing and embarrassed had explained he wasn’t interested and he’d only come to regret letting the elf go. Now they could both die and he needed to let it out.

“I love you!” Alistair blurts as he shield bashed a couple monsters back and Vararis growls.

“You’ve caught me at a really bad time.” He snarls as he ducks down and slams a dagger through one darkspawn’s jaw and in to it’s brain. Vararis knows thanks to having slept with Morrigan there was only one small issue to deal with. That was the Archdemon. If he could get to the damn thing and kill it with both of them alive. Then they could talk about Alistair stepping out of the closet. Alistair trips and Vararis spins grabs the human by his belt and pulls him back as a darkspawn swing at him. He leans up.

“Later, now is not the time.” He says softly before turning back and splinting a darkspawn’s arm almost in half he turns and rips open it’s throat with his other blade before rushing past them throwing his knives into two generals trying to stop him that had been too far to clear earlier he pulls out his long sword and slides ripping open the beast’s throat he stands and turns and brings it down through it’s eye to kill it.

It was horrendously painful. He felt it rush through him and screamed as it felt as if he were being burned from the inside out. Then in a sudden flash it was gone he felt cold and a loud ringing was in his ears. The light was blinding he stumbles back and away his balance thrown as he can’t see much and his ears are currently trying to rip themselves off.

Someone grabs him and pushes him to sit he tries to focus but can’t really. There’s garbling behind the ringing in his ears. Was someone trying to talk with him? A soft tingling takes over and his vision clears slowly he can see green light and realizes at some point he must have flopped onto his back he’s staring up at two worried faces and Wynne’s look of concentration and concern. He can’t really hear what’s being said still. Then lips are on his and he blinks in shock because it’s not Zevran. It’s another blond entirely.

“So... Do I get my turn?” Zevran jokes and Vararis can’t he laughs breaking the kiss even as everything aches and hurts he’s laughing. Alistair is stuttering and Vararis sits up and smiles shaking all over.

“Don’t Alistair... ‘S fine...” He croaks and looks to Zevran grinning because they’re all alive. They survived. The crow smiles back at him and gestures him to Alistair but the elf frowns suddenly sad. Would he have to chose... He adored Alistair still, it was true... But he’d come to adore Zevran just as much.

“Let’s go help the other’s we still have to flush out the stragglers.” Vararis says weakly voice still trashed from screaming not too long before. Wynne huffs and shoves him back on his ass when he tries to stand.

“Oh no you are not.” She says and the elf shuts up and obediently sits through her making sure he is as healed as he can be given everything they’ve all been through. He has learned, listen to Wynne or you will listen to her stick ringing in your ears.

When they’re back in the Arl’s home in Denerim Vararis calls Alistair and Zevran to his room, well Zevran was already there but that was beside the point. He swallows nervously as Alistair walks in. The man had a short beard he’d gotten control of and trimmed up and it looked nice. Given his strawberry blond hair leaning closer to strawberry he just looked like the rugged warrior King Fereldan would need. Varais clears his throat as he’s just sitting on his bed near the headboard Zevran sit’s at the foot of the bed and Alistair is hovering by the door like their both dragons ready to broil him and devour his heart.

“So...” Alistair starts and Vararis plucks up enough courage to speak.

“Come sit with us.” He says patting his bed, Wynne had had his hand’s bandaged, they’d been seared across the palms and he was still healing. He winced as Alistair sat down. He’ rubs his hands together a bit and sighs.

“I asked you to come because we three need to talk. When you turned me down I hurt but I understood, you just weren’t that way so it was understandable, no hard feelings. I didn’t stop caring but I wasn’t going to hold a torch. I had my turn at that when I was younger, I wasn’t doing it again. I’ve grown to care deeply for Zevran. We already discussed somethings before you got here. I won’t leave him behind. I don’t hate myself for my heritage and that branches to Zevran I won’t leave him for a human not even for a King. However,” Vararis raised his hand to silence Alistair before he could drown himself in any stupid or otherwise comments, “I still care for you as I said. I am of the mindset, and Zevran is too, that if this is to work, we’d need you to first be okay with not just having me but Zevran as well in a romantic relationship or at least you to understand I’d be moving between you two, and second, I’m not just yours but Zevran’s as well.” Vararis says calmly and softly. Alistair nods slowly and is blushing something fierce.

“So I would.. Well... Erm...” Alistair is embarrassed but both elves wait though Zevran’s smirking and looks ready to pounce on the poor chantry boy. Varais reaches out to him and squeezes his hands softly wincing at the pressure.

“Go on Alistair if you’ve questions or concerns voice them now.” Vararis says he needs to know what Alistair’s concerns are and if the now soon to be King’s questions were bound to be ones that would need answers before any arrangement was made.

“How would I... I don’t even know what I’d do for one person let alone two. I was training since I was shipped off From Redcliff. I have no idea what I’m doing.” Alistair sighs and Vararis laughs softly. and leans forward.

“What does this say?” He asks tapping above the human’s heart. Alistair sighs and closed his eyes and Zevran moves to Vararis and curls around him from behind resting his chin on his shoulder to watch the human.

“Ah... I think that I can love someone who loved you when I was being stupid?” Alistair asks opening his eyes and Vararis smiles and laughs softly.

“You won’t have to, Zevran would be teasing you right now if I hadn’t ask he restrain himself until we know where you stand. Basically this has roughly three ways it can work, I bounce between you and Zevran, I won’t mind I’m Dalish moving around is in my blood, You can also just take a deep breath and accept two elves into your life, or, and this is one I would like to avoid, we leave Zevran and I wander off after the coronation and you find another.” Vararis sighs and the human shakes his head looking mildly distressed.

“I don’t want to deal with others when... You’ve... I was scared the whole battle I was going to loose you. I don’t want you to leave.” Alistair says voice soft and Vararis smiles gently.

“Then I’ll stay but I’m an elf, so even if we are not together, Alistair you think the other humans here in power will keep being polite when half their staff are elves they treat like garbage? I will stay but I can’t promise I’ll stay forever. I don’t take any disrespect lightly, and sooner or later it will result in me beating the crap out of a mouthy noble bastard.” Vararis says softly. Alistair nods and gently takes the elf’s hands to look at his palms wrapped in bandages. If Fereldan couldn’t see it was through the blood and sweat of an elf that they were still alive then he’d make sure to loudly voice it every time it came up.

“Beat them, I’ll keep you from any consequence.” He says still looking at the bandages. Zevran sighs and shakes his head.

“He won’t need the protection of the crown, if they’re smart and you show off who you care about he’ll be safe.” Zevran says and Alistair looks up.

“You know about nobility sabotage and that... So if I show I care they’d leave you both alone?” Alistair asks and Zevran blinks in shock. Vararis smiles and nods.

“If they’re smart. After all if Vararis is a royal consort of some variety messing with him angers you which would not get them far in court. Even Fereldan should see those rules, I’d assume nothing flashy like Orlais or Antiva but close enough.” Zevran says softly Vararis nods and smiles softly as he can see the two building bridges out of the ropes they’ve strung between them over the trip to stop the Blight.

“No it’s both or neither. Messing with either of you in any way would anger me. You were there for both of us through all of this.” Alistair sighs and Zevran smiles softly.

“Ah, was I? Must have been the view as you two led us all across Fereldan.” He teases and Vararis laughs and sighs.

“Wynne will be coming soon to take care of some lingering burns. If you want to stay.” He says and as Wynne does come in Zevran and Alistair move to the foot of the bed as Vararis stands and let’s Wynne dote on him undoing bandages and seeing how heavily the battle had worn the elf as scars Alistair has and hasn’t seen scatter over the elf like a war-scape on his skin. The Vallisan is warped in some places even broken. Vararis smiles as Wynne tells him to rest and not push himself, there was a moment of calm he should use it to it’s fullest and she did give a look to the two watching a found smile as she leaves.

“So, how shall we celebrate?” Zevran purrs and Vararis laughs. He still only has pants and is wrapping his hands and forearms again.

“Depends, Alistair...?” He asks still focused on the wraps. Alistair looks at Zevran and silently cocks his head the other Warden’s way grinning and the other elf’s yes light up amused as they stand and circle him. Alistair takes the bandage finishing it around the elf’s arm.

“I can think of a few ways to celebrate. My bed’s bigger though.” He grins and the elves laugh and Vararis leans up and gives Alistair a chaste kiss.

“Alright... Let’s go I just need to finish wrapping my other hand ad arm.” He says and Zevran takes the other bandage he and Alistair wrapping the limb by working in tandem. Then the human takes the other Warden by the hand and leads them to his rooms. They go through the halls many salute in shock and respect at seeing the three tease and flirt back and forth Alistair blushes but smiles. Vararis even sings in elvish as he pivots around the two. When they get there Alistair goes to a foot locker and pulls out a rose and set’s it aside not sure how to handle it at this point as he doesn’t know what to do as he’s two people to show affection to not just the one. Vararis hugs him and looks at the flower.

“It’s very well kept for however long you’ve held onto it. It’s still quite beautiful.” He says and Alistair smiles.

“I saw it and couldn’t leave it to be destroyed by the taint it was a beautiful thing in the chaos... Like you. Like Zev too.” Alistair says blushing and Zevran chuckles and he chuckles.

“So I should give both of you tattoos then yes?” He asks and Vararis laughs.

“My black bird you could carve your name into me and I’d be pleased, but given what I heard you talk about it sounds far more pleasant not that we Dalish do ours the same way.” Zevran laughs and Alistair relaxes smiling offering the rose to the elf who takes it and smiles softly.

“I’ll see about having it preserved.” Vararis says softly and sets it back and hugs the human and Zevran leans against the wall watching and waiting.

“I’m a bit fragile... So, I’ll not be able to do much I’m afraid. How about we show Alistair a few tricks, Zev?” Vararis asks feeling too open and vulnerable and Zevran grins looking at the human.

“Shall you indulge us?” He asks and Alistair swallows and nods at a loss of words. The two slowly back him to the bed and they slowly strip the human down to his smalls before they strip though for Vararis he keeps his pants on and watches Zevran do the same.

“This can go slow or fast, how do you want this to go?” Zevran asks as Vararis will let him take lead. After all as he’d said he was in fact fragile. He was rather brittle in wake of the old god rushing first through him then to the child he and Morrigan had created. Alistair takes a deep breath and blurts out what’s on his mind. As Alistair is prone to do.

“I want to make sure I can please both of you.” He says in a rush and Vararis laughs.

“What makes you think you can’t, Lath?” Vararis laughs and kisses him. He glanced to Zevran and gestures them to move forward as he straddles the human Zevran slips up behind him and Alistair glanced back but is caught by those pretty eyes he adores that smile and look as mischievous as a cat with a canary. The two take their time being sure AListair wasn’t going to startle or get to nervous as they distract him with kisses and soft touches all aiming to relax him so he’s leaning into them.

“Vararis...” Alistair hisses his cock’s trapped under the elf so it makes sense he’s becoming impatient. The elf reaches down rubbing softly.

“Yes?” He asks tilting his head wondering if the man will say it.

“Please, both of you, anything but more teasing.” Alistair whines and both elves smile and nod. Vararis moves back and trades with Zevran as they move up the bed and remove the last bit of their cloths.

“Let me show you how to treat Vararis, hmm?” Zevran purrs and Alistair swallows nodding bright pink but his eye clear somewhat so he can focus on what Zevran will show him. The elf shows him what he’ll need to do and Vararis always marveled at Zevran’s self control. By now he’d be quivering begging for anything more than fingers but Zevran was slow and through and if Alistair did this Vararis had a feeling he’d be whining more frequently in the future. Zevran coaches the human to swap with him guidding the human’s hands through the motions and that’s when Zevran starts to crack and Vararis purrs as he watches kissing Zevran as the other gives a purr. Alistair sighs a shiver running through him and Vararis chuckles and looks down.

“Doing well... He never breaks with me... And I always end up begging by now... But I’m regulated to side lines for now... Can’t wait to take his place though.” The elf sighs against Alistair’s lips and the human let’s his free hand tangle in the snowy hair and tug the elf into a kiss. Vararis eventually pulls back panting and Alistair’s a bit short of breath too. The elf looks at Zevran who nods a flush on his caramel skin that Vararis always loved to see.

Zevran gently pushes Alistair’s hand back shivering with a soft whine before he slides down the human’s cock hissing as he does and Alistair let’s out a low sound that makes both elves with him shiver. They take their time Vararis watching the whole time until he is near tears as he’s been trying to not spoil it and beat the two to a finish which he could do his restraint wasn’t good but Alistair kissing Zevran and blindly reaching for his other elf and rubbing an uncertain hand over the cock has Vararis making a high pitched noise he’ll deny til he dies as he breaks apart panting as he flops over to curl into Alistair’s side kissing and nipping at his neck watching the two finish and he just purrs content. He’s so happy he chose to take Morrigan’s offer as he sleeps curled up with both halves of his heart and passes out victorious against the Blight.

#fanfiction content #Smut #lemon #citrus #dragon age fanfiction #zevran x warden x alistair #GET UP & WRITE!#GET UP & WRITE! CHALLENGE

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1x1kellys · 7 years

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tagged by @seokjin1x1! thank you meg bby :)

BASICS:

name: kelly

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: heterosexual, but i'm still questioning

zodiac sign: gemini

taken/single: singler than a pringle

THREE FACTS:

i'm self-taught in almost everything i know about graphic design. i started out on microsoft powerpoint, and from there, i moved to photoshop, and paint tool sai.

on top of rping on tumblr, i also rarely work on fanfiction on another platform. i'd send out links but...it's a mess.

when i was five, i looked in a swingset telescope that had a wasp nest living in it, after specifically being warned not to, and i got stung on the eyelid. that was the first and last time i ever got stung by a bee. i leave bugs alone otherwise.

EXPERIENCE:

how long (months/years?): i first started roleplaying on a percy jackson roleplay platform i found in june of 2013. so about five years??? holy heck i feel old. since the community was so small, i got to know the other users very well, and i'm still friends with most of them to this day.

platforms used: wikia and tumblr. i only branched out to tumblr about two years ago, so i'm still learning the ropes.

best experience: remember that roleplaying community i joined in 2013? we stuck together for about three solid years, and we made all sorts of different rp verses that we all joined and interacted with together. it wasn't that we weren't inclusive, we were, but nobody new ever really went on our platform??? i do miss the experience for sure, but i'm happy where i am now, with my meme dream team of dumpster babies who i love with all my two hearts.

MUSE PREFERENCES:

female or male (or otherwise): i had no particular preference to male or female initially, but the problem was there were so many female muses, i wanted to even it out with males. nowadays, i have a bit more muse for males, but i still really enjoy play female and nonbinary muses.

multi or single: multi

WRITING PREFERENCES:

fluff, angst or smut: since i'm not above the age of 18, i can't smut leaglly. fluff feels a bit safer for me, because i don't worry as much about length, and i'm a fan of cute interactions *~*

plots or memes: memes.... improvising is my strong suit

long/short replies: whatever length i feel like.

best time to write: never??? my writing method is i write down a rough draft of my reply/replies on notebook paper, and i carry that over literally whenever i have access to a desktop

are you like your muse(s): yep! i almost always base certain aspects of my own personality (i.e. interests and habits) on my muses. if i don't, i get a feeling of disconnection from them, which leads to me losing muse. so it's good to have common ground with your muses! :D

TAGGING:

@xiaolong1x1 @creamistries @cutierps and whoever feels like doing this!

#⟨ ooc ⟩#...i need to follow more people #:/

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purplefictionmom · 7 years

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I'd normally be like "ALL THE QUESTIONS" but I'm really interested in 7 and 15 (but like if you wanted to do them all then hell yeah pls do)

You know what, Imma answer them all, cause I love you darling~

All answers under the cut, cause I’m sure I'll get long winded, as usual haha

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?I mean, there was a story that I had been sitting on for...10 years, I think? I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell the story. It started as a mockumentary type of thing, then when that didn’t fit the narrative style I wanted to tell, I moved to a classic modern fantasy style, but that didn’t pan out either.

Then, the game called “What Remains of Edith Finch” came out and it hit me so hard that I nearly passed out: that is the perfect narrative style for the book idea I’ve been sitting on!!

Incidentally, if you haven’t played/watched someone play it, “What remains of Edith Finch” is an excellent game and Jacksepticeye does a wonderful let’s play of it :D

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?Not as much anymore, but I used to hate bringing up “...And the Things That Followed.” Just for a short what-for: ATTTF is a Left4Dead/2 fanfiction, reader-insert that started as a sort of experiment: I perused lunaescence and picked a fandom that I was familiar with, but that didn’t have a lot of fanfiction to choose from. I mostly wanted to see if smaller fandoms stay active, even with very little content to choose from. And boy, did I get my answer.

The biggest reason that I ended up embarrassed over it was because I hadn’t intended it to be a romance fic (I mean...the two main characters are the reader and a Hunter, and what with necrophilia being really gross and all...), but I had readers out and out demand for it, to the point of going on strike from reading my fanfic. This was years ago, mind you, so I caved like a wet noodle and now hate that particular fanfic, to the point where I don’t even want to write the two sequels that I already had planned and half-written.

So, it started out as embarrassment, now its more I wish I could just delete it and forget it exists, but I’m one of those authors who has a really hard time deleting anything, even things I hate haha.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?For the very first, ultimate scene I picture in each fic/story/novel, it could really end up anywhere in the final version.

After that first initial scene I see, I try to start as far back as I think I can get away with and move forward from there, so I guess the short answer is I write from beginning to end, no matter how it ends up being at the end, haha.

4) favorite character you’ve writtenI guess this is supposed to not include characters I don’t own, but that’s no fun so here you go:

OC: A supernatural Hunter named Silva and another hunter (who I have an rp blog for) named Theodora ‘Timmie’ Wilson

Non-OC: Writing Yusuke from YYH and Asgore from UT

5) character you were most surprised to end up writingI’m not quite sure what this question means, so I’ll just take a stab and guess it’s talking about how a character can end up differently on paper than how you first envisioned them in your head.

And that award goes to Silva. I expected her to be a hard, cold killer, but she had so much inner turmoil and hidden thoughts that she was definitely the hardest character to write until I actually started to understand her.

Which took an ungodly amount of time, tbh haha.

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change nowProbably how often I use the double-hyphen. Its meant to be an alternative to using commas (which, I use to many as it is anyway haha), but now they litter my writing like popcorn on the floor at a midnight release, haha.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?Honestly? A little of both.

I’m someone who sees fanfiction (and any fanwork at all, tbh) as legitimate art forms, but there are so many who not only don’t agree, but they belittle and question those who participate in fandoms.

There are days I have all my shit together and I’m ready to defend my fanfiction to the death, along with all my original content; I have my sources, I have examples, so on and so forth, but other days...

Well, let’s just say there are days I don’t even volunteer that information to people willingly haha.

8) favorite genre to writeOther than fanfiction, I love horror, fantasy, and scifi the best, though there are plenty of times it feels like I’m hardly writing for any of those genres at all, haha.

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?Fanfiction, most of the time, but I also listen to songs on the radio, discuss ideas with friends/family (my step-dad was the only person when I was growing up who nurtured my love for telling stories and many of my ideas for novels came from talking with him over the years), or I also like to free-write.

At least, I think its called free-writing haha. I basically just put my pen on paper and just talk to the page with my pen. Sometimes, its just a rant, but more often then not, I’ll find a story or character hidden there.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?All of the above, haha. In the perfect atmosphere, music is playing in the background, and I’m completely alone with no distractions, but since that’s not reality, I’ve sort of forced myself to adapt to what I can.

My computer (where I do 90% of my writing) is in the living room of my house, so my hubby is usually around, and if he’s playing overwatch, then its usually a few voices playing in the background.

If it gets to be too distracting, I just put headphones in, but I also write in notebooks and I take those everywhere, so for that, I just write when/what I can as I go along.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?Definitely dialogue, but also my prose. Honestly, all of it, haha. I look back at stuff I wrote years ago and I wonder how anybody thought I was any good, haha.

12) your weaknesses as an authorIf I had to pick one, its probably that I tend to either over-explain, or under-explain. There is no in-between, haha. My first drafts are often a mess of me focusing in on the details of one room and then not describing a setting for two chapters or more.

13) your strengths as an authorProbably my ability to logically follow order of events, even though I don’t plot, like, at all. This also makes it easy to see where I can divert from what’s expected and explore different avenues.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?Not really? I tend to either put my whole library on shuffle, or I have a dedicated writing playlist that’s full of background music from video games and other things like that.

15) why did you start writing?It started as an outlet.

When I was about 10, my dad came home from work one day while my mom was still at work and while I watched, packed all his stuff into his car, called my mother and told her that if she didn’t get off work soon I’d be home alone, and then left.

I was in a complete and total depression from around then until well into my late teens (I have a little depression now, and a slew of other problems, but now for diff reasons). On top of my dad leaving, my mother, step-father and I all moved to a completely new state, where I started to bomb academically and had literally no friends until almost a year later.

It started out as angsty pre-teen poetry (a lot of which actually still pretty good, even as I go back to read it), then it spilled into fanfiction and fandoms, and around the age of 13--once my step-dad found my love of writing and wanted to pull me away from fanfiction--I finally started writing original ideas out.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?Silva, and a few others. Not so much because their stories are left untold, but moreso because of the way they helped shape me as a writer and the things I was interested in writing about.

The debate about whether or not a writer should write about a certain subject usually stems from readers, but I tend to lean toward the argument from a writer’s point of view: there are subjects that I broached as a teenager that I needed to explore in order to be who I am today, as a person and as a writer. Not to say I have something horrible in my writer’s past that I wouldn’t be able to share, but more that it might be questionable about the age that I delved into those topics. (and no, I don’t mean just smut, though that is included in what I’m talking about)

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?Stop wasting your time trying to please family members with what you write. Most of them are going to ignore the whole of your writing and focus in on the one swear word you threw in for characterization anyway.

Write what makes you happy; whether or not its publishable isn’t the point. You’re just starting out and you need to write; to get better, to learn the ropes, so just go WRITE!

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?Oh geez...at the beginning, everything I read affected my writing style. Fanfiction, published novels, everything.

Probably my biggest influencers would be “The Green Mile” by Stephen King, “The Hobbit” by JRR Tolkien, “This Present Darkness” By Frank Peretti.

And while these are hugely different authors with different writing styles, they more influenced me in my way of thinking. Of expanding my imagination of what could be if I just had the courage to write it.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?I either have a notebook filled with notes about characters/information, or I use a website called Hiveword(dot)com. It’s a novel tracking website that also advertises its program (which you have to pay for), but the website itself is free and you can store all the information about your book, characters, timeline, etc.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?Both, but I get more done with longer sessions. I know that seems like a no-brainer, but its more because of how I prep myself for my writing time:

I have to have a glass of water or cup of coffee, I have to have my music playing (which, with spotify could take a few minutes to load), I have to re-read the last page or so of what was previously written so I can get back into the feel of it, then I can actually sit down and write.

the little spurts end up being in my notebooks and they’re a mess, honestly, haha.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?I used to cringe and close it immediately, but I’ve been trying to analyze and see the biggest differences in my writings from a then and now standpoint. Sometimes its really hard, if its particularly bad or whatev, but its been a real confidence booster when I can see where I was and where I am now.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?Not uncomfortable, per se, but I tend to try and think of things from a reader’s perspective at the same time I write, so there are times when I get a little too involved in what’s happening on the page, haha.

HIAPOTS was a terror to write at some points because of this.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?All of it, if I’m being honest, but obscure things specifically? Hmm...

I mean, probably the fact that I give all my pets personalities and conversations between each other? I do it without thinking, but there are times where I’ll find myself using lines or situations from this weird little thing in my actual writings, haha.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?OMG SO MUCH. Like, idk about ‘expert’, but I have so much useless trivia in my head because of being an author. Talk with me for an hour and see if I don’t throw ‘fun facts’ into the mix of our conversations haha.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud ofOh ugh...umm...let me to look...

From a currently unpublished reader/sans fic I’m writing:You understand, don’t you, Sans?

Sure, Sans understood. Sans always understood. He was the one who didn’t make waves, or overturn boats--you could always count on Sans to be the reassuring nod when you felt lost or the understanding ex who’s perfectly okay with just letting things die, even though the ending came as the greatest punchline ever written in history:

He hadn’t even seen it coming.

(I love delving into characters’ heads, and i love it more when i can do it well enough to feel comfortable with letting other people read it, haha)

From Part 6 of my Garrus/Reader serial fic:“They were my cases,” Garrus admitted, his eyes finally leaving Castis’s in favor of looking at the floor, “And I can’t watch it happen again.”

If Castis didn’t have such a steely reign on his composure now, Garrus might have been clued into his father’s line of thought. As it was, Castis was being forced to realize that he had been wrong in his assessments of his son.The older turian had always thought Garrus shirked the rules and regulations as a form of rebellion, since Castis stepped in and forced him to quit training for the spectres--as if to prove he didn’t care about what his father cared about. Now, Castis realized the reason Garrus pushed them aside so easily was because he did care, maybe too much.

(Honestly, the whole argument between Castis and Garrus in this part of the fic is something I’m proud of)

#wowee look at me go #elainapoststhings

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