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spamgyu · 5 months

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BACKBURNER // PART 1

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff

"Her or me?"

She never thought they would have come to this – having to ask the man that has loved for the past year and half to make a choice.

She watched as his adam's apple bobbed up and down, nervously swallowing the lump in his throat.

He was silently pleading for her.

"Cheol. Her or me." She repeated, this time her voice firm.

"Baby," He began, reaching for her hand but she wasn't having it; pulling her arm back away from his reach. "Don't do this."

His lack of response was more than enough for her. She wanted to hear him say it; wanting a reason to keep fighting for whatever it was that they had.

The thing was. she didn't know if she even had the right to ask him to choose. It wasn't like they ever established or put a label on their relationship.

If it was even considered as one.

She knew she wasn't his friend. No.... friends don't kiss each other the way they did.

Friends don't go on dates. They don't call them when they're drunk to pick them up, claiming that they missed them and wanted to come home to their cuddles.

But they weren't lovers either.

Because two people who were considered lovers told each other that they loved each other. Lovers don't seek out for others attention and care because there was no need to.

They were in a gray area. They always had been – and y/n had grown tired of it.

Y/n grew tired of alway coming in second. Second to her. His best friend, Sunhee. The reason why he could never bring himself to establish their relationship.

Seungcheol had only been using y/n as a filler and she no longer wanted to be the person that kept the seat warm until the right girl came along. In this case, until Sunhee had given him the time of day.

He stood there in silence, unable to muster up any words.

"Fine, if you're not going to make the decision, I will." Y/n sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to pool at the brink of her eyes. "We're done. I'm done. I can't keep doing this."

She was finally raising the white flag.

Grabbing her jacket off of the back of the couch, Y/n made her way to the door; taking one last glance at him. He didn't bother moving from his position – standing still in the middle of the living room as the girl he claimed he care about was walking out of his life.

A part of her wanted him to stop her, just one last time.

But seeing as he didn't seem to budge and she knew she had fucked up.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Kim fucking Mingyu, get out here." She called out as the front door slammed behind her; dumping all her belongings on the couch next to his roommate.

"Geez," Minghao scooted away to the far end of the sectional, clutching the remote in his hand closer to his chest. "You sure know how to make an entrance."

She snapped her neck towards his direction, holding a finger up. "Not. A. Single. Word." Y/n gritted through her teeth.

"Gyu! Get out here! I'm scared!" Minghao cried, eyes wide.

"The hell is going on?" Mingyu chuckled, sauntering out of his room to meet a fuming y/n.

"Make him choose, he'll wake up and actually pick you." Y/n mocked, using a high pitched voice. "Fuck you."

Mingyu had grown tired of listening to her vent about how their mutual friend continued to toy with her emotions, coming up with the bright idea to finally voice her the thoughts that had been flooding her mind. She had unfortunately, allowed her best friend to talk her into giving Seungcheol an ultimatum; in hopes that maybe it will finally make him realize that it had been her all along.

Because maybe.... just maybe, he'll choose her. She should have known better than to listen to him.

Taking a step closer, Mingyu craned his neck to get a better look at her. "Have you been crying?"

"Yes!" She pouted, the tears welling up in her eyes once again – the scene of her standing in the middle of Seungcheol's living room replaying in her head. "You told me to make him pick! Guess what, he did! He chose her!"

He technically didn't choose. He didn't say anything.

But y/n knew that his silence was more than enough confirmation.

Mingyu tried to hold back the laughter the was building in his chest, but it was no use. He had always found her crying face a little funny; earning a smack across his chest as the girl allowed her tears to fall freely down her face.

Just as she had when she was driving on the way to his place, blasting her 'heartbroken girl' playlist.

"Sorry, come here." He pulled her into his chest, laughing harder as he heard a muffled sob against him.

"It's not funny!" Y/n stomped.

"It kinda is." He gave her a squeeze before stepping away from her. "Look, I told you he was a red flag. Hao, told you he was a red flag. You knew he was a red flag..."

Wiping away the remaining tears on her cheeks, she took a seat on the couch; letting out a loud groan. "What if red is my favorite color?"

Mingyu and Minghao exchanged looks before giving the girl the same one they had expressed to each other.

They had heard her defend Seungcheol countless of times and had no shame in freely judging her for it.

They were men, and men knew how men's brain worked.

No matter how many times she tried to make it seem as though Seungcheol's actions were done with no intentions of hurting her, they knew he was not smart enough to do that.

No man was.

When a woman thinks a man is pretending not to care, it was most likely because he actually doesn't.

They were simple creatures.

"Don't judge me. Both of you guys are horrible, horrible men too!"

She had her fair share of overhearing how they talked about the opposite sex – forgetting that she was woman as well. She had been around them for so long that they no longer considered her as a girl. Hell, she doesn't even think they considered her as a person.

Y/n cringed at how they talked about their recent dates and girls that blew up their phones, scolding them whenever they took it too far.

"Hey, we are horrible men who have the decency to tell girls we are not looking for anything serious. So if anything, we are pink flags." Minghao defended as he crossed his arms over his chest.

They were in their 20's, at their prime, and had women practically drooling at the sight of them. They simply had to exist and they fell at their feet.

They were just like any other men in the dating pool.

At least they had the decency to never ghost a girl and give her a heads up on what exactly they were looking for.

Just plain fun.

They didn't string them along.

Not like what Seungcheol had done with y/n.

"I need new friends."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She knew she shouldn't have agreed on going with Mingyu to this damn party.

It had been three weeks since she had last seen Seungcheol and she would have lasted longer if her best friend hadn't practically dragged her out of her apartment to accompany him to Seokmin's place for a joint birthday celebration he was hosting with Hansol.

A part of her prayed that he wouldn't show up.

Why wouldn't he though? They shared mutual friends.

Of course he would be there.

"Are you going to avoid me all night?" He had finally been able to catch her all alone as she had gone into the kitchen to grab another bottle of beer for Mingyu.

The beer that he had guilt tripped her into getting for him; claiming that it was the least she could do since he had been so kind enough to make sure she was never alone the whole night – deterring Seungcheol from approaching her.

So much for that.

The list of reasons to murder Kim Mingyu is slowly becoming longer and longer.

Y/n was heartbroken and wanted Seungcheol to suffer. She wanted him to squirm and feel restless – she wanted him to break the 'no contact' rule that he had been holding onto since she had walked out on him.

She wasn't going to be the first to crack. Not this time.

"Yes." She flashed him a smile before heading back to the dining room, taking a seat next to Mingyu. "Here, I hope you choke."

"What I do?" He took the bottle from her hand, bring his arm back to rest on the back of her chair.

"He followed me into the kitchen."

Mingyu watched as Seungcheol rejoined the group, making eye contact with him.

"My bad." He chuckled, taking a swig.

The night went on with the room filled with laughter and voices speaking over each other – much like any other time they were all together.

All while y/n ignored the hole that Seungcheol was burning into her skin; feeling his stare from across the table, the rest of the group didn't seem to pay no mind to the tension between the two.

And frankly they didn't seem to care – very aware that the two had an icy hot relationship.

All except Mingyu, who had caught on to this the second he sat back down.

"You ready to head out?" He leaned down, whispering into y/n's ear.

Turning to give him a disgusted look, she nudged his body away. "Ew."

"Play along." Mingyu said, low enough for just them two to hear – his eyes signaling over to where Seungcheol sat. She sneakily took a glance over at him, seeing his jaw tense at the sight of her and Mingyu being at such close proximity.

She met Mingyu's eyes, silently asking him what was going on.

"I'll tell you in a bit."

"Okay but don't fucking do that ever again." She shuddered.

The two have been friends since middle school – having seen each other through all phases of their lives. Including their awkward pre-puberty stages.

Other girls seemed to fall at the feet of Mingyu, thinking he was some gorgeous Greek God; but all y/n could see were the days he would be knuckle deep in his nose digging for gold only to wipe it on her skin right after.

He was pretty, she'll admit to that.

But he was gross.

"We're heading out." Mingyu announced, standing from his seat; holding his hand out for her to take.

A chorus of bye's was heard from around the table as y/n hesitantly placed her hands in his – allowing him to guide her out of the apartment.

Once the door had closed behind them, and was out of earshot, they immediately dropped each other's hands.

"Your hands are cold." His nose scrunched.

"That's not something I can control." Y/n snapped back.

They have known each other long enough for their friendship to turn more into a love-hate one; bickering like their lives depended on it instead of holding a proper conversation.

Mingyu stepped into the elevator, hitting the LOBBY button, "Just saying, geez."

"Wanna tell me why you had your hot breath in my ear?"

A mischievous smile appeared on his face and y/n knew right at that moment that she shouldn't have asked.

Any time he smiled like that, she had always run into some issue that caused her to regret every single decision she had made in her life – it was never a good sign whenever his canines were in full show.

"I know how you can get him."

Or maybe.... this one won't be as bad.

"How?"

"Pretend to date me."

"No."

"Wha– why not?" Offended at how quickly she had turned him down.

"No. Ew."

"It's not for real. We won't even kiss!"

"No."

"Fine. Then I don't want to hear how much you miss him." He stepped out of the elevator with her hot on his heels.

Despite being the one to end things between her and Seungcheol, y/n had spent the past few weeks venting to her friend how she wished he at least texted her. Or maybe fallen into the trap of swiping up on the stories she had posted on her social media.

"Fine."

"Fine." He shrugged, entering his car.

The two drove in silence, allowing the low hum of the engine and radio to fill the air – both of their social batteries at zero percent.

She had been absentmindedly scrolling through tiktok when she began to once again, allow Mingyu's coniving voice plague her thoughts. Y/n replayed Seungcheol's stoic expression in her head, knowing well enough that her and Mingyu's interaction had gotten to his head.

Y/n couldn't believe she was actually considering entertaining the thought of fake dating to make Seungcheol jealous.

But she was far gone from reasonable thinking, wanting to do anything just to make sure she could hear Seungcheol say the words.

She wanted him to pick her.

If he was a red flag, then she could even be redder.

"Can't I just use a different guy to make him jealous?" She spoke up.

Mingyu let out a loud cackle, throwing his head back. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she cracked. "Like who?"

"What about Wonwoo, he's single right?" She recalled to the time in their sophomore year when the two had drunkenly shared a kiss at a frat party. It was convincing.

"He's also not your type."

"You don't know my type." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah I do. You like emotionally unavailable men."

"I do not–"

"Really? Jungk–"

"Okay!" She interrupted him, not wanting to be reminded of her ex who had made her cry for almost every day of the week during her senior year. It was not her proudest moment, but then again, most of the men she dated never made her proud.

"Come on, let me be toxic and mess with him." Mingyu snickered, slowing at the red light to send her a wink.

"No."

"Come on!"

"What's in it for you?"

"Please, making him angry is more than enough for me." A mischievous laugh escaped his lips.

Mingyu had always had some sort of competition with Seungcheol, dating all the way back to their freshman year of college. The two had always been playing a silent game of chess, finding ways to make each other upset over the smallest things.

Whether it was scoring more during a game, or dating the same girls... the two were always neck and neck.

But she knew he was right. If there was anyone that would grind Seungcheol's gears the way Sunhee did for her, it was Mingyu.

Y/n couldn't help but feel disgusted at herself as swayed into the decision. She couldn't believe she had become a pawn in the two's game.

"He better choose me by the end of this."

"Of course, baby."

"Don't call me that."

"Yeah that was gross." He gagged.

He called her baby.

And she only liked it if he called her baby. No one else.

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draconic-desire · 3 months

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A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III]

Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end

One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.

The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.

You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.

Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.

“Do you like it?”

Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.

When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”

You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.

Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”

Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.

“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”

Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”

Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.

Marvelous.

Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”

You stepped in and immediately went still.

For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.

Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.

And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.

Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.

All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”

“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”

You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?

Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.

However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.

“Neuvillette?”

Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”

His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”

~*~

It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.

He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?

A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.

A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.

He’d given you this coat.

“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.

“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”

Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”

You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”

“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”

“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”

“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”

“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”

Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”

You sketched a brow in surprise.

Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”

You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?

As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”

~.~

You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.

Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.

But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.

Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.

You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.

At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.

And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.

Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.

“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.

If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.

Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.

~*~

The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.

You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.

But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.

You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.

Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.

Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?

This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.

You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.

Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.

Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”

Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”

You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”

“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.

“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”

He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”

You seethed. “Well, I do.”

Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”

Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”

The room went utterly still.

Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”

It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.

On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.

Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”

You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”

Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”

Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.

"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.

The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.

Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.

It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—

Oh, fuck.

Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.

“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.

Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.

Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.

“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”

~*~

You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.

You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.

You had to escape this prison.

#yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #dragon #obsessive love #tw kidnapping #tw noncon touching #neuvillette doesn’t understand the concept of personal space #neuvillette is down bad #mates

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upsidedownmvnson · 8 months

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much more interesting things | eddie munson

summary: you're stuck in a rut, and starting to hate your crappy high school friends. eddie helps you see that there are better, more beautiful things out there - he just didn't expect you to think that he was one of them

warnings: underage drinking, shitty ex bfs and friends, cheating ex

a/n: i started this and finished it in like 4 straight hours, replies & comments appreciated, i love feedback fr

Eddie sees you sitting alone in a large group of people.

He recognizes most of them from high school, but he can't put any names to faces. He'd only been graduated a year, but it was like he had no memory of that place, or those people. Trina? Tina? That party girl who hosts that crazy Halloween bash every year... and... uh, Carol? Was that Carol sitting there? No idea.

But he doesn't really care, because he's busy noticing you, and the way you pick at the label on the beer bottle, focusing your gaze on your fidgeting fingers. He notices how you're so ridiculously beautiful. He notices the way you mouth every word to the local musician playing a Johnny Cash cover. But most of all, he notices the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. He notices how you keep looking behind you to the door. Waiting for someone? Or planning an escape? He can't quite tell, but he was dying to find out.

Steve smacks him on the arm, whispering something, and Eddie has to tear his eyes away from you. Robin and Nancy shared a look between themselves, and then looked over at the girl who had Eddie's attention. They started whispering amongst themselves.

"What?" he asks, looking over at Steve, not having heard a word he said.

"I asked if you were ready to go?" Steve repeated, rolling his eyes.

He's not. Eddie is so... intrigued by you that he feels the need to stick around. See who you're waiting for, or hiding from, or ... he doesn't know. Eddie's not even sure what he's expecting.

"You go," he answers after a long minute, "I'm gunna grab another drink at the bar."

"We can stay longer," Nancy suggested, smiling at Eddie, and sneaking another peak at you.

"No, it's okay," Eddie smiled, letting his eyes fall back on you. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

And then they left, saying their goodbyes to their friend and paying their bills, heading off into the parking lot while Eddie took a new seat at the bar. He sat facing away from you, not wanting to be a complete creep, but there was just something that kept him around.

You wanted to leave. This whole idea was stupid, you were stupid for agreeing to it.

A month ago, your best friend had started dating your ex-boyfriend. She didn't exactly ask you if it was okay, she just dropped it on you and expected you to be okay with it. But you were realizing, sitting here celebrating his birthday, that you absolutely were not.

What kind of friend was she, anyway?

You tried pushing passed it, but as you sat their, watching all your other 'friends' laugh and giggle as Tina and Reed climbed all over each other.

It was clear that most of them had known about this little affair long before you had. You needed a drink...

You brought your beer bottle up to the bar, putting all the little pieces of paper you'd ripped off it inside of it. You leaned against the counter beside Eddie, looking over and watching as he chugged a sip of his beer. You watched his adam's apple bob as he drank, but you saw that he was watching you. You thought maybe you'd been him watching earlier too, when his friends were still there.

"Eddie, right?" you said, using him as a distraction. He nearly choked on his beer.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, "hey..."

"y/n," you said, smiling. It was refreshing, Eddie not knowing who you were. He wasn't one of the popular crowd, and you were honestly jealous of that. You wanted to fall away from them. You wanted to fall from grace.

"I knew that," he said, looking away, the lie clear on his features. But you weren't mad, you smiled.

"You didn't," you said, winking at him. How many drinks have you had? You felt the warmth and confidence radiating.

After showing the bartender your handy fake I.D, you ordered a beer and two shots, pushing one towards Eddie. He picked it up, looking at it for a moment, and then you, waiting expectantly to cheers it.

"You don't have to take it," you joked, "but could you let me know so I can put my arm down?"

He chuckled lightly, goofy grin taking over his cheeks, and he cheers you, downing the shot alongside you. It burned, but you liked it. You chased it with a sip of your beer, the bubbles making the linger sting fade.

You heard your friends calling you name, and you turned to see them giggling and whispering. You assumed it was because they thought hanging out with Eddie was slumming it.

"I guess I should get back," you said, your face showing your honest lack of interest.

"Why do you hangout with them if you don't like them?" he asked, and it was your turn to nearly choke on your drink. You coughed, surprised by the suddenly deep line of questioning.

"Who says I don't?"

He laughed, "you should get back, I'd hate to ruin the party."

"That party was ruined when it started," you mumbled, and he just laughed harder.

"Yeah you're right, I really feel the love."

You laughed, and he felt pride settle into his chest. The smile climbed all the way to your eyes, lighting them with a sparkle that made you even more beautiful than you already were. Eddie feels butterflies in his stomach, and he looks away, softly smiling at the beer in his hand.

Talking to Eddie was... fun, and returning to the table full of fake people with fake smiles was ruining that.

"What were you talking to him for?" Carol asked, boney fingers biting into your skin as she held your arm.

"Uh, because I was waiting for a drink and he was sitting there?" you asked, looking at her with a look like she was an idiot. Because she was - she was an idiot.

"Well, don't. He's bad news, and bad publicity."

"Unlike my friends here, who would never do anything to hurt me, right?" you asked, looking to where Reed and Tina were showing a disgusting amount of PDA. Why the fuck were you still sitting here.

"Don't be like that," Carol snapped, "it's not their fault they fell in love. They both felt really bad about it."

"How long have you known about them, anyway?"

Carol looked down at her lap, and Tommy, sitting nearby laughed obnoxiously.

"Go on, tell her." He kept laughing, especially when she hit him on the arm, because apparently everyone in the world was in on. "But tell her the truth..."

Tommy didn't care about the truth, he'd just had five beers and wanted to stir the pot. The people sitting close to you guys had gone quiet, no one willing to meet your eye, while Reed and Tina stayed oblivious to the whole scene, kissing each other like they were alone in her bedroom.

You chugged the beer in your hand, figuring this was probably the end of the party for you, you wouldn't make it through much more without snapping. "Yeah, Carol," you said, slamming the bottle down on the table, but still somehow, Reed and Tina stayed in their trance. "Tell me the truth."

"Three months..." she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on her lap. the table was silent.

"Nooooo," Tommy sing-songed, "I'm pretty sure I said the truth."

"Shut up, Tommy!" Carol snapped, glaring at him. Those two were not perfect for each other, and should probably break up. You grew impatient.

"What can be worse than my best friend going out with my ex right after we broke up?"

"How about fucking behind your back for two months before that."

Carol wouldn't meet your eye, Tommy was laughing, and Reed and Tina had these stupid, guilty pouts on their face like they expected you to never find out. You felt numb, like you should be more mad but you just... didn't care.

Eddie was right, you didn't even like these people.

Your eyes drifted over your shoulder to Eddie, where he was still sitting at the bar, eyes forward but you knew, you knew he was paying attention. He was nothing like anyone sitting with you at that table. He was perfect.

You slid out from the table, chair squealing loudly in the silence, as every looked at you. Fuck these people, fuck this group, fuck this place, and really really fuck Reed and Tina. You were over it, outta here, and moving on, but not before a glorious, "go to hell," that made your chest feel ten time lighter, like a load was suddenly lifted off of it, freeing you from the chains that these poisonous people kept on you.

You didn't storm out, or start crying, or even rush. You just stood up, put your coat on, and sauntered over to where Eddie was sitting, turned towards you and watching with a huge smile on his face, like he was proud of you, and honestly, you were proud of yourself.

"Wanna get out of here?" you asked, leaning beside him again, making sure those assholes could see you were still wearing a pretty smile.

Eddie grinned from ear to ear, saying "lead the way," before getting up and putting on his leather jacket.

Outside of the bar, you two walked silently for a minute. You still weren't even that broken up about it, you kinda suspected he was fooling around behind your back, and you always knew Tina was a shitty a friend, so this was just, what it was.

"Can I just say that was awesome," Eddie said, breaking the silence.

"You can," you smiled, trying to break your thoughts away from them entirely. "And you should."

"Those guys are jerks," he said, "you're better off."

"I know, right?" you laughed, "It's my fault really, I shouldn't have even shown up tonight. I should've ditched them months ago."

"What even was that? Those guys were all over each other the whole time. I don't even think they spoke to any of you after you sat down."

"How long were you watching, creep?"

Eddie blushed, looking down at his feet. You hit him with your elbow, showing him the smile you wore, assuring him that you're just teasing.

"That guy was my ex," you sighed, "and the girl he was with is supposedly my best friend."

Eddie laughed, "I'm sorry, it's not funny," he said, still laughing. "But that's insane."

"Tell me about it," you huffed, kicking a rock with your shoe. You weren't sure if you were leading, or if Eddie was leading, but you were just kind of walking down the dark sidewalk. You were kinda headed towards the elementary school. It was late, sure, but neither of you had a curfew to worry about. "But anyway it was his birthday yesterday, so everyone wanted to go out to celebrate. They're throwing a party at Tina's after, I think the whole school is going."

Eddie hummed in understanding, not really knowing what else to say.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear all about this," you said, "it was the hottest gossip last season."

"I don't really listen to that stuff," he said, shrugging. "I don't think I even really know who Reed is. I feel like Harrington knows him, maybe?"

You nodded. You liked this about Eddie. He didn't want to gossip, or spread rumours, and he didn't revel in other people's misery. He couldn't name the entire basketball team, but you could bet he knew all his friends birthdays, or like, their favourite snack.

Most of your friends nearly missed your birthday if you hadn't reminded them the day before. You'd been with Eddie five minutes, and your other group already could barely hold a light up to him. You can't remember why you hung out with them before, and you can't fathom why you'd never thought Eddie was cute until now.

"So what brought you to the bar tonight? I thought you guys went to that other spot, uh, The Hangout?"

"The Hideout," he corrected, "that's where my band plays. And Steve wanted to go here tonight. He likes the deep fried macaroni bites that you can apparently only get there."

"Ah, I see, so very important stuff."

"Very important."

It fell silent again, and you worried that you'd made a mistake. Like, maybe Eddie didn't want to be here. Like he felt bad for you or something.

"It's nice out here," he said softly, and you noticed he'd stopped a few steps back, you were too distracted by your anxiety to notice. You turned towards him, copying him by tilting your head back, looking at the star filled sky. It was peaceful, standing here with Eddie.

"Yeah," you agreed, letting the beauty of the night's sky clear your anxieties. You'd been so used to shitty friends, that you didn't know what is was really like to be treated nicely.

You were still looking up when Eddie came back into focus on you. You were beautiful. Like, really beautiful. He was kinda shocked when you first spoke to him, and he was totally floored when you asked him to leave with you, smile covered in sincerity and eyes filled with trouble. He knew the odds of this turning out well for him were slim, but he wanted to see it out anyway. You seemed different than the rest of them, and he was going to give you a chance to be.

Your hair was falling over your neck in a way that tempted him you reach out, and brush it over your shoulder.

Instead he looked at his feet, shuffling a rock around while he shook those thoughts out of his head. Obviously after a situation like that you were in a vulnerable state, and he wasn't going to be some jerk who took advantage of that.

"Safety infraction," he said, pointing at your shoe, and before he could stop himself, he was on one knee, tying your shoelace for you. He realized it was entirely dorky and weird to just start tying someone else's shoes, but it would've been weirder to stop.

But you didn't think it was weird at all. You thought it was sweet, and kind, and... well, it made you blush, the burning sensation was so prevalent you knew he'd be able to see it when he looked back up at you, and he did. Eddie took note of the fact that he'd made you smile, blush and laugh all night, without trying.

He thought... Eddie thought maybe there was a chance here, a chance for something special.

You were something special, and it baffled him that more people weren't aware of this. He was confused about how guys weren't throwing themselves at your mercy and declaring their servitude.

"Thanks," you said, smiling as he stood level with you again, and you noticed the light blush across his own cheeks.

"You're welcome," he said, and the two of you started walking again, letting a calm silence fall between you.

You were closer now, so close you could feel the odd brush of his knuckles against the back of yours, and you could hear his breath hitch every time. You wanted him to reach out and grab it, but he didn't.

"C'mon," you said, grabbing his hand and tugging him across the street, "I want to swing."

But neither of you let go once you were across the street. His hand was rough. Hard with callouses from years of guitar, but it was also warm, strong, comforting. You didn't want to compare him to Reed, you had no right to think of Eddie like this, but you couldn't help it. He was cute, and when you were sure he wasn't a rebound moment, you'd tell him.

Eddie didn't let go of your hand until you made it to the swing set, only releasing his grasp to climb onto the swing beside yours. Immediately, he kicked off, trying to swing as high as possible. You swung gently, feeling the breeze and enjoying the moment. Eddie's hair was flying around him wildly, and when he swung forward, all his hair trailing behind him, you could see the unadulterated joy on his face, and it made you smile. It made butterflies flip in your stomach, like a hundred of them were suddenly released into your chest.

"Watch me!" he shouted, jumping off the swing, only to land a few feet away in a thud, shouting a weird sound when he landed. It didn't sound good.

"Hey," you said, slowly down and getting off the swing. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," he said, laying on his back and giving you a thumbs up. "Don't worry about ol' Eddie, he's resilient." But the squeal he let out when he tried to put pressure on his ankle betrayed him.

"Let me help you," you said softly, reaching down to help pull him up. He leaned heavily against you, resting his ankle down, only to wince. "Maybe you should sit down," you said, guiding him to a park bench nearby.

"I don't live far," he said, "through the yard and cut through the Masterly farm, then we're practically there." He coughed, "I mean, if you don't mind, you don't have to I can probably call Wayne at work, there's a payphone-"

"Eddie, stop, of course I'll help you," you said, smiling when he did, despite the pain he felt, he knew you were different. "Let's get you home."

The walk should've been ten minutes, but it turned into over half an hour, with Eddie's injury, he was walking at a snail's pace. He kept repeating how you didn't need to suffer this with him, but you wouldn't hear it. He was helping you in ways he wouldn't understand, just by being a kind presence, showing you that there are much more interesting things out there, way more interesting than some shitty friends.

The whole time you guys just talked. You told him about how you've been feeling lately, neglected and sad. And he told you about his mom and Wayne, and how he wants to pursue music.

At this point, you were sure it wasn't any kind of rebound thing.

When you got to the trailer park, he got quiet, hesitant, like he expected you to take off at the sight of his home. But you weren't fazed. You just helped him in without saying anything, sitting him on the couch.

"Can I take a look?"

"If you've got the stomach for it," he joked, hitting himself in the forehead when you looked away.

But you just laughed, slowly untying his shoe, trying to take it off without hurting him. He didn't say anything, just watched as you did so. He thought you would drop him inside and head out, bu here you were, sliding off his sock with the most gentle touch he'd ever felt.

"It's swollen pretty bad," you said, "ice?"

"I think we've got peas?"

You nodded, getting off the couch and bringing yourself to the kitchen. He watched you shuffle around in the freezer, followed by the drawers. He said nothing, just watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, relishing in the fact there was this work of art in his kitchen.

You finally found a clean dish towel, and wrapped the peas in it, bringing them over to your damsel in distress.

"Thanks," he said, unable to look away. you focused on his ankle, the purple bruise already covering the large bump on the side.

"I don't think it's broken," you said, "but maybe you should get it checked out by a doctor."

"Do you think it can wait until tomorrow? There's a nurse in the green trailer," he said, bashful, "she usually helps us out."

"Yeah, I think so."

It was quiet for a moment before he said, "do you think you would want to stay for a bit?" You both looked away, both suddenly shy and blushing.

"Yeah," you said, "you should really lay down though, and get some pillows under your leg."

"You can come in there," he said, sounding a little too eager. "Not like, for any funny business," he said, catching himself on his embarrassment, but taking solace in your little giggle. "We can just hang out."

"C'mon," you said, grabbing the frozen peas and helping him back up. You helped him into his room, asking where you could find him a pair of sweats to replace his jeans were, and throwing them over when you got them. You turned around, giving him some privacy. You saw his music, and decided to help yourself and put some low music on.

"Thanks again," he said, clearly struggling to undress and dress while laying down. "For helping me home, and- uh, and everything else."

"No problem," you said, shuffling your weight between your feet. "Can I look?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

While laying there, he looked devilishly good. You felt bad for his ankle, sure, but he'd taken his shirt off, his soft tummy on full display, and his legs were strewn between the white sheets, his good leg tucked under, but his bad leg bare, showing his grey sweatpants. His hair was messy, splayed over his neck and shoulders, and he looked good enough to eat.

"Can I sit?"

Eddie smiled, "of course," he said, shuffling over to make space for you.

It was later than you realized, and you were suddenly exhausted. Or maybe you were just justifying crawling into Eddie's bed at your first opportunity. You set up a few pillows under his leg, leaving none left for yourself, just one for Eddie.

"Take one back," he said, pulling it out from the stack. "You need one too."

"No, no," you pulled it out of his hands and returned it, instead opting to lay into his side, resting your head on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his breathing get faster. He smelled like freshly fallen leaves, cinnamon, and the faint smell of weed. It was intoxicating... "Is this okay?"

"It's perfect," he said, wrapping a hesitant arm around you, pulling him in closer to you, "absolutely perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader

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laracrofted · 18 days

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to break in a new house or apartment, boxes scattered about and furniture newly placed

Screams Bob after y'all move into your new house ;)

abby, i'm giggling and kicking my feet because yeah, it's so domestic bob in his new house.

minors and ageless blogs dni, explicit sexual content under the read more.

So basically, Bob wouldn’t hire movers.

“A little manual labor never hurt anyone,” Bob insists, which is all well and good until the Daggers head out in the evening, leaving you both in your new house, surrounded by sealed boxes and askew furniture, drenched in sweat and absolutely exhausted.

Bob digs around in the boxes on the counter - labeled kitchen in his familiar uppercase scrawl - and fishes out the bubble-wrapped wine glasses. You order a pizza and eat it on the floor of the living room with a bottle of red wine that Natasha brought over as a house-warming gift for you both.

You have a glass of wine and another and another, and soon enough, Bob has you pinned on the wood floor, cheeks wine-flushed, glasses askew on his nose.

“This is our house,” Bob murmurs between kisses. He nibbles along your neck, making you arch into him, head back. “You know what that means?”

“What?”

“We have to make it ours. Christen the house,” Bob says against your neck. He pulls your shirt over your head and sheds his own. He looks so good, arms bulging from the all-day workout, chest flushed.

You exhale a laugh. “Oh? Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Bob says. “Every room.”

He leans down to kiss your stomach and works his way back up to your breasts, sliding your bra from your shoulders and running his tongue across your nipples, licking and sucking and kissing and nibbling.

“What d’you think? Want to start with this room?”

He kneels, looking down at you, fingers skating down your hips to grip you more firmly, waiting for your response.

“Here? We don’t even have curtains up, Bob.”

He shakes his head, cracks a sly grin that Bob saves for you and you alone. “So?”

You roll your eyes, but really, Bob has had you worked up all damn day, carrying all of those boxes with his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, his arms glistening; pulling his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

You loop your arms around his neck and whisper, “Let’s give our new neighbors a show.”

You do exactly that when Bob slides a pillow beneath your knees and puts you on all fours in the middle of the living room, surrounded by unpacked boxes, and fucks you into the nice real-wood floor.

None of your friends see much of you in the first week in your new house. You and Bob are far too busy christening every corner.

#bob floyd fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #laracrofted writes

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wildfloweronwheels · 23 days

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the more I sit with the tortured poets department, the more it makes perfect sense as a body of work taylor would create/release especially when you consider the fact she operates much more closely to an indie artist artistically than a lot of her contemporaries.

so honest it's catching people off guard? she's been doing that her whole career from the minute she put people's real names in her songs. lyrically sharp and slightly alarming? may I present "and you come away with a great little story about a mess of a dreamer to adore you" or "you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter." bold and sonically strange? she's been blurring the lines of genre since her earliest albums, regularly blending country, pop, folk and even rock. 1989 has been her only traditionally dare I say 'sonically cohesive' album and the only reason its palate is so clean is because of the risk a pure pop album posed to her successful country career. if she hadn't nailed the landing then, she wouldn't be where she is now. *it also feels worth noting her most adventurous 'weird' but music has come AFTER she thought she'd had her last chance at mainstream success (lover) and as a result, thrown away the checklist because she thought she had nothing to lose. she was just making music for herself with no expectation of success*

'there's too many metaphors and characters/the muses are murky and I can't tell what's real. does she have to write so much fiction now?' this is the girl who immortalised her neighbours love story, who rewrote romeo and juliet, dreamed about crashing a wedding and was inspired by bob + ethel kennedy for god's sake. she's always written stories and imagined.

'I just can't understand why she'd make this and take this risk when we all liked her so much?' my friend, have we been paying attention to the same artist all these years? taylor swift not taking creative and honestly quite punk career risks would be like christopher nolan films without cillian murphy. she walked away from a development deal at age 14, took a chance on an independent label she built from the ground up and then bet on her future when they held her past hostage. took a genre they said wasn't for teenage girls and transformed it. wrote an album on her own after her songwriting was questioned. took a 10 minute song to #1, directed music videos and a short film worthy of oscar buzz, stretched her muscles and is directing a feature film AND re-recorded all her old work in arguably the biggest potential interruption to her career not for any perceived gain but for the statement of an artist's worth. but the world doesn't view them as risks because they worked

tldr; the tortured poets department is the most taylor swift thing taylor swift has ever made.

#taylor swift #hannah post™️#the tortured poets department #ttpd #ts ttpd

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torasplanet · 4 months

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❝𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝘼 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you think armin's the sweetest boy on campus until you learn he's just like his stupid frat boy friends but it still doesn't drive you away from him. if anything it draws you closer.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, toxic!armin, college au, armin is lowkey a gaslighter, drinking, smoking, weed, degradation, praise, slut-shaming, false rumors, scumbag!eren, scumbag!connie mention of historia x ymir, couch sex, oral(m receiving), p in v, recording, mean!armin, orgasm denial, unprotected, relations between jean and reader hinted, arguing, gaslighting ig??, crying, dacryphilia, kinda manipulation, petnames(pretty, baby, slut), threat of leaking nudes, mirror sex??, kinda messy so don't mind if ur confused, skin color not mentioned

Armin Arlert was probably the sweetest boy on the entire college campus.

It was weird that he hung out with all the jerk frat boys like Connie, Eren, and Reiner despite his good reputation but anytime anyone asked, he’d tell them that they were childhood friends and they understood. You can’t really just ditch someone you’ve known since childhood over some stupid choice of the type of person they are in college so no matter who Armin associated himself with, everyone always saw him as the sweet little blonde who was a bookworm and cared about his grades more than anything.

Well, everyone that didn’t really know him thought that. All the people who were close to Armin knew that he wasn’t any of that, not anymore at least. Yes, Armin was kinder than any of them but he wasn’t a sweetheart. Just as Eren and Connie would meet up to smoke and talk about all the girls they fucked, Armin would be right next to them laughing evilly and rolling blunts, not that he let anyone know it. It was much easier for Armin to let people believe that false perception of him being innocent and an angel than being just like Eren, made it easier to get girls too.

You were one of the few people who knew this and at first, it freaked you out but you learned to adjust to it and you were right on his lap whenever he was with his frat boy friends lighting the blunt between his lips like the good girl you wanted to be for him, the good boy that just wasn’t as good as everyone thought he was.

But there’s always a part in you that wish you knew all of this before you truly got to know Armin or at least got to know it in a different way…not after being labeled campus slut by him and his stupid fucking frat friends.

It started off so simple, you just saw Armin at a party, one of Connie’s parties, and thought he looked cuter than ever and plus he had helped you on one of your tests before so you did owe him a bunch.

“Oh shit! Fuck!” Armin shouted leaning back on his palms and throwing his head back making his blonde strands fly everywhere, the blonde strands were identical to the bush on his pelvis that your nose was planted in except for the curliness of his pubes. Your hands held onto his thighs to support yourself as you continued to stare up at him through your lashes with his cock stuffed in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bobbed your head making you gag.

His blue eyes darted down to meet yours as redness flushed the color of his face. It didn’t matter how badly Armin acted behind the scenes or what he said, there would always be moments where he was just so submissive especially when he was getting the best head he’d ever gotten in a while “Don’t look at me like that.” He whimpered out embarrassedly closing his eyes not wanting to look at you as it made him more flustered than he was.

Armin would never say this, well not to your face but from the moment you walked up to him at that party, he thought you were a slut. The way you looked at him, how you talked, that filthy fucking smile on your face, it just told him that you wanted him to fuck you or at least wanted dick from him in any way you could get it.

Wasn’t like he was really surprised though, he’s heard the shit that you’ve done. Fucking Jean, fucking Connie and this one was probably false but the fact that the rumor even existed in the first place, gave Armin reasons to believe you were a grade-A slut. He knew how girls talked and how they would especially go out of their way to say bad shit about girls they didn’t like but Connie would say how it was true a lot so he kind of believed it. Armin thought you were too pretty to be such a slut. Well, a campus slut anyway.

“Fuck pretty…gonna make me cum…” Armin’s moans were so gorgeous, just like you thought they would be. As Armin got closer to the edge, he pulled out of your mouth and sprayed his cum all over your face making sure you closed your eyes before he did it so you wouldn’t get any in your eye. He admired the look of your lovely face covered in the leftovers of his orgasm and smiled sweetly down at you.

The cum that landed on the tip of your tongue tasted so sweet, it was only right that a boy as sweet as him has a sweet taste too. You’ve thought about what it’d taste like for almost forever but maybe you should’ve thought way more about it because just because someone’s cum tastes nice doesn’t mean they are.

Unfortunately, you weren’t going to get this until a few days later when girls started looking at you like you were walking around naked and so were the guys but you really wouldn’t get what was going on until Hitch told you.

Connie and Reiner were going around telling everyone how you blew Armin at the party and had to go to the bathroom to wipe the remains of it off your face and you didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time those guys have told people you fucked someone whether you did or didn’t but it only really did start to bother you when Armin didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything to you regarding the situation, he didn’t tell people to stop talking about it in the class you two shared, and he merely chuckled when he heard a girl call you the frat slut and mention how you probably have made your way around the entire frat house.

That pissed you off.

You knew it was true that you had sucked off Armin and you can’t really say much when it’s the truth being whispered into everyone’s ears behind your back and right in front of your face but when everyone was constantly insulting you, you at least expected Armin the sweetheart, Armin the kindest boy ever to say something to them or at least his friends for spreading it around. Why the fuck did he even tell them in the first place because no one saw you two leave that room and no one saw you go in the room with him, only walking up the stairs.

Fuck what everyone said about Armin being nice, about Armin being kind, about Armin being the sweetest boy ever because he was not. Nice boys don’t kiss and tell, nice boys don’t let people insult you when he wanted his dick sucked just as much as you wanted to suck it and Nice boys certainly don’t let their friends tell the whole fucking world and their mama that you sucked their dick once at a party.

Armin was not a nice boy and he wasn’t going to just get away with that shit without you saying a damn word and if he thought he would, he was fucking stupid. I mean he saw what you did to Connie after you heard he was agreeing with the false rumor, he even winced when you slapped the shit out of his friend and commented on how red Connie’s cheek was. If he thought you weren’t going to do that to him because he was ‘nice’, he wasn’t as smart as everyone perceived him to be.

But even with these feelings, you had a hard time going up to him during classes or whenever you saw him really and confronting him. Armin was always around people, people who would label you as the problem if you came up to the blonde and started to yell at him about something no one saw as his fault and that just made your hatred for him burn like a house fire inside of you.

You didn’t want to see his stupid face. You didn’t want to hear his name. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him at all! Nor did you want to be around the loudmouths that started the gossiping of your sex life and made it public.

So a few weeks after all of this, you decided to skip out on one of Connie’s parties and stay inside. You didn’t get how he could host parties practically every week, he was really trying to live those 2000’s romance movies that display college kids as people who party every night but then again, those movies weren’t exactly false because you ended up going anyway.

Not by choice, of course, your dorm roommate and friend, Historia had convinced you to come because she wanted someone to go with her to this party. You didn’t even know why she wanted to go so badly, the best idea you had was that it was because of this new girl, Ymir, she was talking to but that still did not give her any reason to shove you in the back of her car and throw a dress and pair of heels along with you.

“Stop complaining! It won’t be that bad, I’m sure you won’t even see him.” Historia reassured looking back at you through the rearview mirror as you applied mascara to your eyelashes using the camera of your phone to help you. How dumb did this Ymir girl make Historia? Of course, you’d end up seeing Armin. It was Connie’s party after all and he was bound to make himself known to everyone and probably including his ‘best buddies’ in it too.

A scoff left your lips as you rapidly blinked your lashes “Even if I don’t see him, I’ll see the others and they’ll probably be worse and actually talk.” If you ran into Eren, Connie, or Reiner, they’d definitely comment on what they had told everyone and add a snarky insult about if they could be next. The only one that possibly wouldn’t say anything like that was Jean and that was why he was the only one out of them except for Armin that you actually fucked.

“Yeah, all they do is talk. You know that (Y/n)...” The blonde woman said in an attempt to reassure you and to some degree, it did work. She was right.

All they did was talk, that was their whole thing but at the same time, their talking was the same reason why you were in this predicament in the first place. Fuck it, if they did start talking, you could always resort to throwing a drink in their face and laughing in Eren’s face as he yelled about his precious hair getting all wet.

Historia looked at you again noticing your lack of reply and you were already looking at her. As if she could read your mind, she smiled and looked away speaking simple words “Just don’t cause a scene, please? I really wanna have a good time tonight.” A wide grin stretched across your face making your lip gloss shine in the moonlight that peeked through the windows of the car and onto your body.

“With Ymir?” The blonde’s face went red at the mention of the brunette and her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly “Shut it! I bet if Jean’s here you’ll have a good time with him.” You would’ve laughed if you didn’t get embarrassed at her mention of Jean. He was a good guy, don’t get me wrong but you didn’t want that.

You didn’t know why you didn’t like that but it’s not something you wanted. There was a reason majority of the guys you’ve loved or had sex with were usually frat boys or just general dickheads, whether you knew it or not. You had no idea how you managed to snag someone like Jean, such a sweet guy. You almost thought that with Armin too until you figured out what was really going on.

But even with him being a sweet guy, you still wouldn’t have a good time with him, probably wouldn’t have a time at all. Not after he’s listened to his friends say how they’ve fucked you, the only one that was missing was Reiner. Eren couldn’t say he fucked you or you gave him head or anything because he only fingered you which didn’t really count plus you were pretty sure he and Mikasa had a thing going on so him bragging and telling everyone about some small shit like that was not do him any favors.

Thinking about what Jean must be hearing from his friends made you realize how much of a slut you were. But it wasn’t your fault that all the hot guys in college happened to be friends and frat guys…it wasn’t your fault either that they were all jerks! So there should be no criticism against her still thinking Armin was cute even after figuring out that the kind personality was just a facade.

I mean, it’s not like he took off a mask and revealed an entire different face right?

But just because you still thought he was good-looking didn’t mean you weren’t still upset about his blabbermouth.

So when you stepped into the house and the first thing you saw was Armin, Eren, and Connie all talking near the staircase while passing around a blunt, you audibly groaned loudly probably loud enough for them to hear. You wanted to burn the whole house down as soon as your eyes landed on their forms watching as they laughed about something that was probably stupid.

But…Historia asked you to not make a scene and you were going to respect what she wanted because just because you were all sad and upset. And a little pent-up if we were being completely honest. Though…you couldn’t sit at this party and not say anything to that blonde fuck.

Once Historia left, you made your way over to the three boys who had caught on to your sudden presence at the party just a bit after you started to go toward them “Woah, looks like she can’t get enough of you, man.” Connie said nudging Armin with his elbow as he took a drag from the blunt, Eren let out a small chuckle at this.

You stood in front of the three men just glaring daggers at Armin “What’s up?” Armin asked as if he hadn’t done anything wrong at all and it pissed you off more “What’s up is that we need to talk.” You got nothing in return but laughs coming from Connie and Eren who were making eye contact obviously thinking about something dirty.

“Like you talked all on his dick?” Connie asked between his laughs while passing the blunt to Armin who just stood there with a smile on his face looking as though he was resisting the urge to burst out laughing right in your face. You took notice of the cup in his hand and quickly made the decision to flip it spilling the alcohol all over his white tee.

“What the fuck (y/n)!?” Connie shouted a frown appearing on his face real quick as he looked down at the large stain on his shirt “You know what the fuck springer.” You said quickly as you grabbed Armin’s wrist and dragged him away from his friends hearing one of them call you a bitch on your way.

You didn’t look back at Armin to see what his face looked like as you dragged him to the nearest room to talk which happened to be a bathroom, he didn’t say anything as you two walked and he was probably still smoking. You wished you knew what Armin thought of you, if he had any empathetic thoughts toward you, or if he didn’t care at all.

It’s hard to know the answer to something like that when the person in question is a fucking liar. Though he never said to anyone that he was nice, that he was the kindest person in the world, he never stopped anyone from thinking that. He sure as hell didn’t stop you from thinking that when your face was coated in his cum.

“If you’re trying to distance yourself from that whole campus slut thing, taking me into a bathroom isn’t the best idea,” Armin said leaning against the wall and closing the bathroom door with his foot. At least he wasn’t going to pretend like he was that innocent little blonde when you two were talking alone, he respected you that much not to lie to your face when you both know what happened.

“You were the one that made everyone believe I’m a campus slut!” You said glaring at him your hands balled into fists. You didn’t know if you were upset about the fact that he was looking at you without a care in the world in those bright blue swirls that were his eyes while putting the blunt to his lips and letting the smoke escape through his nostrils or what he said the moment you two made it into this bathroom.

Armin looked down at the blunt as he removed it from in between his soft pink lips “No? I didn’t tell people that.” Well, you might as well throw that whole ‘respect’ thing out the window because he was acting like he didn’t know what he did. His lingering stare on your body made a million thoughts run through your head as you tried to find a way to respond that wouldn’t be socking him in his shit right now.

“But you told Connie and Eren that when you didn’t have to.” Armin simply shrugged as he met your eyes once more leaning his hip against the sink counter and planting his hand on the surface to support himself “I didn’t know they were going to say anything.” He said.

This pissed you off way more than you thought it would. Mainly because of his tone. He didn’t even sound like he was lying at all, he sounded as though he was telling the truth and you knew he wasn’t. It was fucking scary. “Yes, you did! They’re your friends and you know all the shit they’ve said about me.” You shouted at him while Armin just stared down at you. Anyone who was around the bathroom could definitely hear you yelling at him.

“Why are you mad at me? Connie’s the one that said all that shit, not me.” Yeah, he may have been right. He didn’t say anything but he still didn’t say shit when Connie started blabbering his mouth about you and Armin and he’s the reason why Connie had something to say in the first place. He knew how Connie and Eren were with anything that someone told them and he still said something when he didn’t have to.

Armin was pissing you off to a crazy extent but you didn’t say anything, you just stared at him. It was slutty and sick of you to be thinking about how hot he looked right now with the smoke blowing from between his lips while he was fucking with your head trying to make it seem like you had no right to be mad at him. “And it’s not exactly like they’re wrong about you being the slut…” You didn’t say anything and just continued to stare at him waiting for him to keep talking.

“You fucked Jean, fucked Connie and me…who knows who’s next? Reiner?” Armin said throwing one finger up with every name that left his mouth with a teasing smile reappearing on his face before placing the blunt to his lips and exhaling the smoke in your face making sure you knew that he didn’t give a fuck.

“I never fucked that short bitch Connie!” Armin let out a laugh leaning his head back against the wall, he clearly didn’t give a fuck but he didn’t have to laugh in your face making it clear that he also didn’t take you seriously at all “Still fucked Jean and gave me head. Not like anyone will believe that you didn’t fuck Connie with a reputation like that.” Armin said rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at you as if he was sorry that you had to deal with that but you knew he wasn’t. He was just trying to fucking play with your head.

It was working.

Looking at him through your mascara-coated lashes, you wondered if he believed that shit like everyone else did. If Connie told him the truth about nothing happening. Did he at least have the common decency to know his friend was lying?

You wished that Armin was that sweet boy you thought he was but then again you can’t say that because you were still thinking about how cute he was and what he thought of you even when knowing how he truthfully was. Pathetic. “Do you believe that?” You asked your voice lower than it was before looking away from Armin not wanting to see whatever mocking look he was giving you, it’d make you feel even more pathetic.

His white and blue Jordans came into your view blocking your gaze on the tile bathroom floor “Why would I tell you that? It’ll ruin the game.” Armin said mockingly soft. Game? Did he think all of this shit was a game? Something to entertain him? Why didn’t you realize this from the start of this conversation?

Because you were blinded by him that’s why and that’s probably what made it fun for him. Armin knew he was fucking with your head and he was probably smiling at you because of it.

“This isn’t a game. If it is, it’s not fucking fun.” You said looking back up at him with your brows furrowing in anger. Your hands plant themselves on his chest and push him back away from you, it didn’t seem to phase him at all and in fact he just smiled doubling down to walk even closer to you.

“We can make it fun,” Armin said with a smirk on his face and you wanted to say ‘fuck no’, you wanted to leave, you wanted to hit him but you didn’t because you didn’t really want to. You wanted to know how he was going to make it fun even though you already had an idea of what he was talking about and it was an idea that you weren’t opposed to.

It was really fucking pathetic but you can’t help how you feel nor could you stop the pulsing feeling in your cunt squeezing around literally nothing just wishing that the nothing was being replaced with him “We’re already in the bathroom together, I can make everything they’re about to say when you leave come true.” Armin continued and it took everything to not kiss him with how close his face was to yours.

You wanted to at least have some respect for yourself. You just got to this party, the first thing you did was grab Armin and take him to the bathroom which seemed wrong enough as it is not only from other people’s perspective but from yours too and if you started fucking him while in here when you were supposed to yell at him and tell him off, that’d just make everyone really believe you were a cock hungry slut including yourself.

Armin then backed his face away which confused you and you showed it on your face “But if you don’t want to…I won’t. You can go slut yourself out to someone you want.” That’s what threw you off.

You thought he was being sweet with wanting consent until the second part of his sentence left his throat. Even when saying something like that which would make a girl fall to her knees because of how kind he was about needing to know if you wanted it, he still found a way to slut-shame you like everyone else fucking did.

It was true, all guys were fucking dickheads.

“I thought you were actually a good guy…” You muttered feeling tears beginning to burn in your eyes and a smile just appeared on his face again “If you wanted a good boy, baby you should’ve fucked bertholdt. You’d probably still do it.” Armin said coldly with a chuckle coming from under his breath.

Your hands clenched into tight fists once again but this time you actually put them to use. Your hand went flying toward Armin’s nose making him step back going to hold his nose with a groan and without another word, you left the bathroom rubbing your knuckles leaving Armin in there by himself.

You didn’t know what you were thinking. You didn’t fucking need Armin to have a good time, you didn’t need him for dick either because if you really wanted it that damn bad, you’d find someone. Hell you might even go to Floch just to fucking avoid him, he’d probably be the only guy to want to fuck you without wanting to tell the whole world after Connie’s little lies of you being ran through by the entire Frat house he was in.

When the party was eventually over, you found yourself wandering down the hallway of the dormitories with your heels in your hand and alone. Historia had dropped you off with Ymir in the car adn they went their own way probably either to Ymir’s house or just fucking in the car which you respected so you went about your own way to go to the dorm.

Afterall, you were drunk but you weren’t that drunk. You could still stand, walk and think straight so you were going to be fine but it took a lot of convincing from you and Ymir that you were going to be fine and that they could just leave. You just hoped historia was enjoying herself with Ymir because you clearly weren’t with your horrible mood.

Your bare feet stepped along the carpeted floor of the dorm hallway with your heels clacking against each other in your hand. A frown brought down your face as you let out a sigh. You wanted someone right now.

You didn’t know who you wanted but you needed someone. You spent the entire party babysitting a red solo cup that got refilled probably every three minutes, you ignored the whispers and the stares from people and the snickers you got whenever the guys from the frat house passed by you and don’t even get me started on how you were whenever you caught a glimpse of the blonde man.

It was probably the saddest party you’d ever been to and it left you with a sad feeling resting inside of you, it was your fault honestly. If you weren’t so damn bad at picking out guys and always going for the scumbags and dicks, you wouldn’t be so sad almost crying while finding your way down to your dorm.

“No eren, I didn’t fucking take your weed.” You froze when you heard Armin’s voice. It was very muffled clearly coming from behind a door. Damn, you had forgotten that Armin also lived in the dorms and happened to be on the same floor as you were, it was how you managed to ask him for help for that class.

Your head turned to your right seeing that brown door that looked identical to every other door that was in this hallway except for that metal plate with the numbers ‘312’ that haunted you and made your skin run cold, goosebumps popping up on your exposed arms. Had it always been this cold in the hallway? You didn’t know if it was or the sudden known presence of Armin that was making you feel like it was freezing.

You didn’t continue walking or anything and just stood there staring at the door as if you were waiting for him to say more but he didn’t. He was probably just listening to Eren whine about that damn chain.

Without thinking, you allowed your feet to carry you closer to the door with your stare not faltering one bit. You needed someone so bad, you were just so upset hat you wanted to be in someone’s embrace no matter if it was sex or just cuddling and Armin shouldn’t have been the person you decided on. He was the one that made you feel like this in the first place along with his stupid friends.

But you still wanted him. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his blonde hair making an unruly messy of it, you wanted him to fill you up and making you feel so full, you wanted to smash your lips onto his. You wanted Armin so bad you thought it was going to kill you. Fuck being pathetic, fuck all that shit of feeling bad for wanting a mean guy, you’ll never learn to have fun if you spend all your time just feeling sorry for yourself and what kind of guys you like.

You were already known as a slut and starting to beleive it yourself, there’s nothing you could dp to make people stop thinking that so why not just fucking imbrace it?

You brought those same bruised knuckles that smashed into Armin’s nose up to the door and knocked on the wood gently a few times before dropping your arm back down to your side turning your head down to look at your feet “Eren are you at my fucking door? I told you I don’t got that shit.” His voice was louder than it was the first time and seemed less muffled.

You waited paitently and a little anxious that he’d just slam the door back in your face upset that you punched him in his shit. The sound of the door unlocking made you squeeze your eyes shut not wanting to even look at his shoes but after a few seconds of silence, you decided to look at him.

You slowly lifted your head making eye contact with Armin who was looking down at you, it seemed as though just you staring up at him was the thing that made him happy because a evil lustful grin formed on his lips as he watched you shfit your weight onto your other foot clearly nervous.

“I’ll call you back Eren.”

Moans bounced off the walls of Armin’s dorm as your nails dug into the soft plushness of the couch trying to hold back your moans though you weren’t really doing that good of a job at it “Why you hiding your moans from me baby? I wanna know how good I make my slut feel.” Armin said teasingly as his hands harshly gripped your hips while watching as he slid in and out of you with ease nearly drooling at the sight of how good you sucked his cock in.

Though Armin doubted that he should be surprised, you were so good at taking it down your throat, it’s only normal that you’re good at taking it in your pussy too “S-Sorry, mhm…” You whimpered as you snuck your hand down to draw circles on your clit only making more moans come from your mouth “It’s okay just take it like a good girl. I know you can.” His words made you basically melt onto the spot.

You wanted to be Armin’s good girl so badly, only his. “Uh huh…m’ your good girl.” Your words were just gibberish at this point, he was fucking you so good that you could barely comprehend anything that was going on only how he was ramming inside of you “That’s right, mine. All mine…” You heard Armin whisper possibly one of his hands slapping your thigh making a yelp come out of your mouth.

Your walls fluttered around him as you felt his violent pace slow a bit “Armin…” You were too busy lost in your dreams of pleasure to even notice the missing hand on your hips, the pad of your finger continued to draw circles on your clit bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm “Baby show me how good of a girl you are.” Armin’s words made you open your eyes with a sound of confusion and his phone was shoved in your face recording you; You could see yourself in the camera.

It was an extreme distinction from when you looked into the camera of your phone to fix your makeup, the mascara was running down your face in streams of tears, lipgloss smudged, and probably on Armin’s lips too, red rims around your eyes showing your crying from how good he was fucking you and your lips parted in an ‘O’ with moans slipping out.

His other hand left your hip and found its way to your neck squeezing just lightly and making you groan, he lifted you so your back was pressed up against his chest with him still thrusting up in you hitting your cervix “What are you?” Armin asked as you watched as your tits bounced up and down with each thrust he delivered to your cunt, his cock disappearing and reappearing inside of you.

Your hand still down rubbing circles on your clit which Armin caught onto “A-A slut…” You whispered watching as he set up the phone so it could stand on its own before putting his now free hand on top of yours “Whose slut?” Yeah, you were waiting for that. You didn’t know if he wanted you to automatically know that or if he wanted to hear you admit it after prodding for the answer.

You lowered your head gasping with your chest rising up and down with deep breaths feelings yourself come closer but then he grabbed your hand and tore it from your clit “Say it.” He said sternly with a tight hold on your hand watching you from the camera on the phone, you whined loudly wanting the attention to your clit to return as you were so close, his dick was enough but you wanted more. Like a greedy whore.

“Yours! I’m your slut armin, yours.” You shouted trying to tear your hand away from Armin’s but he didn’t allow you to and grinned at it, you saw it in the video. He looked at you like he was going to kill you like he had the evilest idea in his head “Please, I just wanna cum.” Armin only laughed under his breath at this and leaned down placing his chin on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Well hold it,” Armin said gently biting down on your neck and hearing you whimper in response. You couldn’t hold it, how could he even begin to ask you that with the way he was fucking you? He was just trying to play with your head even in this intimate moment, if you can even call it that with the filthy noises that both of you were making “I can’t.” You forced out with a sob whining as Armin’s hand moved up to grab at your jaw harshly and force you to look into the camera and see yourself.

You saw a bulge in your stomach and reached your free hand down to gently press at it making both of you groan at the same time, yours sounded more like whimpering than his did. His moans were very different from the first time you heard them.

The first time, they were like yours. Whimpers, begging moans, small sobs as if it was his first time getting head and he just couldn’t get enough of it nor could he take it but now you were the one sounding like that with all of those feelings inside of you as he groaned and whispered filthiness into your ear calling you all types of things that just made you squeeze him tighter.

“Armin please…!” You whined louder hoping to get his attention and get him to understand that you really couldn’t hold it. Even without your fingers on your clit, you were still going to cum and you were trying your absolute hardest to hold it inside but your bubble was getting ready to burst “I swear to god, if you cum this video is going all over instagram.” Your heart stopped at his words and you let the tears fall onto your cheeks that already had dried tears on them.

You really wanted to try and hold it in but you just couldn’t. His threat must’ve turned you on more because you squeezed around his cock tighter watching in the camera as you came with a yell and Armin’s hold on your neck released and he allowed you to fall forward onto the couch.

His silence haunted you and the way his thrusts slowed made you even more terrified of what he was about to do. You breathed heavily as you looked up watching as Armin reached over and grabbed his phone “Don’t get too comfortable, we’re goin’ again baby.” He spoke and you almost smiled but when you remembered what you had just done and the things he probably was planning, you stopped yourself.

A sob escaped your throat at the thought "Keep crying, all it's doing is making me wanna fuck you more." Armin said and you could practically hear the grin on his face and you wished you could wipe it off with a kiss.

That night you and Armin went at it like fucking rabbits but he never said anything more of his threat. He never told you if he did it or not and you never saw anything on his instagram so you assumed he didn’t. The thought of him showing connie, eren and those other boys crossed your mind but they never said anything, no one did so he probably didn’t. Those fuckers couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives but maybe they would if Armin told them that.

Though, it didn’t matter if he did or if he didn’t because you still would be sat on his lap all pretty as he smoked with Eren and connie like you were right now.

Armin’s hand was planted on your ass as you turned the lighter on watching as the fire erupted from the lighter before moving it toward the blunt that was in between the blonde’s lips just waiting for you. You felt the stares of the other two guys on you but you didn’t care, it didn’t matter.

Only Armin mattered and being his good girl mattered most of all. He wasn’t a good boy so someone had to be the good one. Armin inhaled before taking the blunt from his lips and blwoing the smoke out of his mouth making a ‘O’ with the smoke and your face fitting perfectly in the gap. You smiled at the trick that he often did “That’s my good girl.” Armin said with a grin on his face before passing the blunt to Eren who sat beside him.

Armin put out the lighter fire with the tips of his fingers as Eren and Connie laughed a bit to themselves at how you seemed to love his nickname for you and you really did. It made your day everytime he called you that and it may have been sad, pathetic or whatever those two said behind your back but you didn’t give a single shit.

You were Armin’s good girl and that’s all that mattered to you no matter what anyone said.

#torasplanet.ᐟ #aot smut #armin arlert #aot x reader #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #toxic!armin #mean!armin #◛⑅·˚armin;p #marls-fics.ᐟ #aot college au #i hate this #wrote this listening to ultraviolence

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months

Text

Invidia

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Plot? I don't know her. Jealousy, dom/sub dynamics, slightly toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, light choking, spit kink, light bondage, P in V action, use of sex toys, overstimulation, degrading language, slight praise kink, implied oral (m receiving) Word count: ~1.7k

Summary: Aemond dishes out a punishment that won't soon be forgotten when his partner attempts to make him jealous. Based on this request.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Her grip tightens around her martini glass, eyes narrowing, as jealousy bubbles acrid and bitter within her chest.

She watches as the dark haired woman grazes her perfectly manicured nails over Aemond’s bicep, red stained lips pulling back into a saccharine smile, revealing pearly white teeth. She knows the woman is drop dead gorgeous, but in her envious state she sees only a predatory threat to her relationship, her thoughts darkened and unkind with internalised misogyny.

Worse still is that Aemond appears to be doing nothing to stop her, he is allowing this woman to flirt shamelessly with him. While his mannerisms are impassive, not returning the woman’s touches or suggestive grins, she believes he should be making it explicitly clear he is unavailable.

She hadn’t even wanted to come this evening, she had been desperate for a quiet night in front of the TV, just her and Aemond. He’d insisted they go though; the opening night of Aegon’s new cocktail bar and he simply had to support his family. So she’d dolled herself up, allowed herself to be dragged along and how here he was making a mockery of her.

Two can play at that game.

She wants to make him feel every bit as jealous as she does, to remind him he isn’t the only desirable person in their relationship, and she knows just the person who will strike that blow hardest.

Scanning the crowd, she spots the man of the hour propping up the bar, tipping back tequila shots.

Swallowing the remnants of her drink in a single gulp, she winces slightly as the combination of vodka and vermouth burns lightly in her throat, then heads over to where Aegon is standing.

“Hey, you,” She greets him in a sing-song voice, reaching out to brush her fingers against his forearm. “Love what you’ve done with the place!”

“Thanks,” He says with a smirk, his eyes traveling over her appreciatively, before nodding towards her glass. “Looks like you’re empty, shall I get you another?”

She knows that the music isn’t so loud that she can’t be heard by simply raising her voice a little, but she also knows that doing that won’t grant her the attention she so desperately seeks from Aemond. So, she leans in, her lips brushing against the shell of Aegon’s ear as she whispers to him.

“Oh, I would love one, thank you!”

Drawing back, she watches the bob of his throat with a satisfied smile, as he swallows thickly. She was having the desired effect on one brother, at least.

“You got it,” He tells her, his hand brushing hers as he relieves her of the empty glass and turns back towards the bar, holding up two fingers towards the bartender.

It’s then that she feels a firm but gentle grasp on her upper arm and turns to look up into the steely gaze of Aemond. The taut bun that his long, silver hair is pulled back into leaves his face unobscured, so the hardened lines of anger are unmistakable. While his left eye remains milky and lifeless, the fury that burns bright within the blue of his right more than makes up for its absence.

A shiver runs through her. Perhaps she has pushed this too far.

“We’re leaving,” He tells her flatly.

Her eyes widen as she tries to protest. “But Aegon’s just getting me a dri–”

“I wasn’t asking,” He shoots back, grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowded bar.

He is silent on the drive home. The hand that would usually rest against her thigh keeps a firm grasp of the steering wheel as he stares straight ahead.

The tension inside the car is unbearable. She knows she’s in trouble. Her stomach flutters nervously, wondering what she can say to calm him down, but can come up with nothing that she doesn’t think will enrage him further, so she stays silent.

The moment they arrive home, he spins her around to face him, pressing her against the wall, causing her to gasp. His hand grasps lightly against her throat as he stares her down. Arousal pools warm between her thighs.

“Just what the fuck was that tonight?” He hisses lowly.

“I-I was just chatting to Aegon…” She stammers, gazing up at Aemond, doe-eyed.

“Oh, it looked like it was more than chatting, much more.”

“It wasn’t, I swear!” She whines, regretting ever having approached Aegon in the first place, but unable to shake the effect that Aemond’s display of dominance is having on her.

“Hm,” He raises his free hand towards her face, tugging at her bottom lip with his thumb. “Open.”

She opens her mouth, steeling herself for what’s to come, but still shivers when she feels him spit harshly onto her tongue. She swallows without having to be asked, inwardly delighted at the hum of approval that Aemond emits.

“Thought you could use something to accompany the filthy lies that are coming out of your mouth,” He mutters darkly, his grip on her throat tightening.

She whimpers as her resolve crumbles. “That woman was flirting with you!”

“Ah, there it is,” He smirks. “You behaved like a stupid, little slut with my brother because you were jealous? Pathetic.”

“She was all over you, you did nothing to stop her!” She snaps back, feeling herself grow angry.

“But I didn’t do anything, did I?” He snarls, eye narrowing. “If you saw the number of women I turn down when you aren’t around you’d fucking cry, yet I can’t trust you not to throw yourself at my brother. Would you rather be with him instead?”

“No, Aemond, I only want you!” She clings desperately to the front of his black button up shirt.

“Is that so?” He cocks his head slightly, his hand still around her throat.

“Yes, I was just trying to make you jealous. I’m sorry,” She pleads.

“Hm. You’re about to be. Bedroom. Now.”

He releases her throat and she walks on unsteady feet towards their shared bedroom, nervous excitement making her heart race.

She lays back on the bed, biting her lip in anticipation, as Aemond stands at the foot of it, the metal clink of his belt being unfastened the only sound in the room. The audible slide of the leather against the cotton of his suit trousers as he removes it from the loops causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh.

“Wrists together. Above your head,” He orders.

She does as she’s told, her throat running dry when she feels the mattress dip either side of her as Aemond straddles her, winding his belt around her wrists and using it to bind them to the headboard.

“Colour?” He asks simply, making eye contact.

“Green,” She whispers.

“Good girl,”

The praise shoots straight to her core, making her clench around nothing. He leaves her with no time to ponder on what his next move might be, as his hands disappear beneath her skirt to tug down her underwear.

She arches off of the mattress slightly as his deft fingers swipe through her folds, coming away glistening with her slick.

“Little slut,” He whispers, before freeing his cock, showing he’s every bit as turned on as she is.

He takes a firm hold of her hip with one hand, grasping the base of his erection with the other and forces himself all the way in to the hilt in one fluid motion.

She is wet enough that any preparation isn’t required, but the sudden stretch still steals her breath away.

Aemond’s thrusts are quick and sure, his hips snapping against hers harshly as he brings his thumb between their bodies to rub at her clit in rapid, tight circles.

Her nails bite into the leather of the belt around her wrists, struggling to ground herself as pleasure builds steadily within her gut, each slap of his skin against hers nudging her closer to the edge.

His breathy pants combined with the look of determination on his face give her the final shove she needs, and she falls apart with blinding white warmth that washes over her from head to toe.

She’d believe her punishment was over were it not for the fact that Aemond has yet to cum. His low chuckle as he stills inside of her is all the indication she needs that he’s just getting started. He leans over, never slipping out of her, and pulls her Hitachi magic wand from a drawer of the bedside table.

Fuck.

“Colour?” Aemond demands again, his voice husky.

“G-green,” She breathes shakily.

He purses his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

The jolt that rockets through her body when he presses the toy against her, at maximum speed, causes her to squeal. He keeps it there, resuming his thrusts inside of her and the combination of the two is too much. She trembles all over, her mind feeling foggy.

“What are you going to do the next time you feel jealous?” Aemond asks.

“N-fuck-nothing!”

“Good girl. And that’s because you can trust me.”

A sob of pleasure is ripped from her as another orgasm has her tightening and spasming around Aemond uncontrollably. He shows her no mercy, keeping the wand firmly on her, the momentum of his hips never slowing.

Aemond’s breathing is ragged, sweat visible upon his brow from exertion. “Do you trust that yours is the only cunt I want to bury myself inside of?”

“Aemond…please…” She mewls piteously, overstimulation making her shake.

“I need you to say it,” He grits out.

She tugs involuntarily at her restraints, tipping her head back. “Yes, I trust you!”

He brings her to peak three more times, before he finally relents. “Colour?”

“Yellow,” She says weakly, voice hoarse and eyes teary.

Aemond switches the toy off, tossing it to the side and slowly pulls out of her. She hisses at the sensation, noticing that he is still rock hard, not having peaked himself yet.

He rubs gently at her wrists as he unfastens the belt, helping to get the blood circulating once more. Brushing his lips against her temple, damp with perspiration, he whispers softly to her. “I’m not done with you yet, just giving that sweet little pussy of yours a rest. For now–” He leans back on his haunches and taps the head of his cock against her lips. “You can put that pretty mouth of yours to work, you’ve got quite the mess to clean up.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfic

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whisperofsong · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: Bob takes care of you after a long day.

Word Count: Approx. 3,082 words

Warnings: Language and explicit sexual content

Note: This piece was written for @attapullman ‘s International Bob Floyd Fucks Month celebration and intentionally posted on Lewis Pullman’s birthday. I adore our collective boyfriend and loved writing this to honor one of my favorite characters of his💛

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The rain patters against your windshield as the windshield wipers rhythmically glide back and forth, almost putting you in a trance. Your shoulders are slumped as you stare ahead and count the minutes until your car is once again in the driveway.

Work had been more stressful than usual. The incessant alerts signaling the arrival of new emails flooding your inbox. Additional things being asked of you despite your already taxing workload. Interruptions from your coworkers as you attempted to focus on completing the various tasks on your to-do list. Despite these challenges, you managed to accomplish a few things, but it wasn’t enough. And you feared that the week may only get worse.

When your tires meet the smooth pavement of your driveway and you pull the key out of the ignition, you remain in the car. The stillness and silence is a welcome respite from the pandemonium in the office. Your energy is almost nonexistent and you find yourself wincing when you look at the distance from your car to the front door. You eventually muster enough energy to grab your things and head inside.

Faint music and a pleasant aroma greet you and the man responsible for them is Bob Floyd. But Bob Floyd isn’t just any man. He’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend of a little over a year to be exact.

“Boyfriend” is almost an inadequate label for what Bob Floyd is to you. He’s the man who memorized your coffee order just so he can get it for you every Saturday morning. He indulges in your favorite TV shows alongside you and makes remarks that he’s confident will make you laugh. When you inevitably fall asleep in the middle of watching them, he doesn’t disturb you, but instead covers you in the coziest blanket you own because he knows you sleep more soundly on the couch. He’s the man who embraces you at the end of each day and whispers the most tender words while kissing you between each sentiment.

But as you stand in the tiny entryway of your home, your heart deflates because not even Bob’s presence can buoy you right now. Your chest is tight, your shoulders are throbbing, and your whole body feels heavy. When you enter the kitchen, Bob’s back faces you as he busies himself with stirring something on the stove while the comforting melody of “Silly Love Songs” surrounds you.

“Hey,” you say softly. Even your voice is strained.

He immediately turns around to face you, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, honey. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he says as he happily makes his way toward you. His strong arms engulf you and you sink into his warmth, his scent calming you in ways you can’t even describe. It’s one of his specialties. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, wishing you could permanently reside there.

“Hey.” He slightly pulls away while putting his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to get you to look at him. “Talk to me, honey.”

You slowly lift your head, reluctant to meet his gaze. There’s no use lying to him. He can read you well and therefore detect anything that seems amiss. “I had a bad day.” Your eyes travel downward, refusing to maintain eye contact. You’d prefer not to make this a big deal. Ideally, you’d prefer to curl up in bed, hibernate under the covers, and drift into a deep slumber where work can’t get to you.

Concern decorates Bob’s features as he furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head, preparing to prompt you further.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You release a long and labored sigh. “Eventually. But right now…I just…” You shake your head and peer down at your shoes.

He gently nudges your chin with his fingertips. “What do you need?”

Hesitantly, you lift your head once more, two sets of pleading eyes meeting each other. You chew on your lip, contemplating your response, before saying, “I need to not think. To turn my mind off.”

Bob’s quiet for a few beats as he mulls over your admission. “That’s what you really want?”

You’re momentarily stunned by the lower octave and rougher edge to his voice. You almost forget that he’s waiting for your confirmation, so you lightly nod in response, eyes locked with his own.

Wordlessly, Bob catches your jaw in his hands, his thumb slowly moving back and forth across your bottom lip in a tantalizing motion. After several sweeps of his thumb, he presses it firmly against you, silently requesting that you part your lips. You oblige him and as soon as you do, his thumb enters your mouth. Your tongue darts out to wet it and your lips wrap around him, closing your eyes to savor the way he pushes it farther into your mouth.

“Good girl. Just like that, honey.”

This elicits a whimper from you because he knows the effect his compliments have on you. When his thumb pulls out of your welcoming mouth, you find yourself thrumming with anticipation. Your heart is hammering against your chest and your toes are curling inside your shoes as you await his next move. It’s almost torturous.

He crouches down and carefully removes your shoes, one at a time, his eyes refusing to leave yours. He caresses your calves and his touch alone has you weak in the knees. Without warning, his hands grab the back of your thighs and he wraps your legs around his waist as he ascends the stairs with you in tow. Your hands play with the tufts of hair positioned at his nape as your chest fits comfortably against his.

Once you reach the bedroom, he gingerly lays you down on the bed, a hungry and determined look evident in his eyes.

Your hands begin to lift the hem of his t-shirt, but he stops you.

“No,” he objects in a low voice. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I wanna make you feel good, baby. No thinking. Just feeling.”

You shiver at his words. You’ve never been more eager to be intimate with him than you are at this moment.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His lips descend on your neck and a soft moan leaves your lips as he litters your neck with kisses, licks, and marks that are proof of his love for you. Although you try to remain still, you can’t help yourself from lifting your chest toward him, silently imploring for more of his touch. Needing more, more, more.

He chuckles against you, understanding your plea. “So needy for me, baby. Such a greedy thing.”

“Bob. Please.” You’re growing impatient and have no right to feel this way. He’s just getting started, after all.

He leans up on his knees and stares down at you laid out beneath him, sporting a smirk that seems to imply he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His hand expertly dives under your dress, gradually climbing until he’s reached your stomach. When his hand finds the cups of your bra, he squeezes each one, but the fabric prevents you from enjoying the full sensation.

“You know better than to hide them from me,” he chides.

“I-I have to wear a bra or my nipples will show through my dress.”

“Mmmm.” He nods in agreement. “Because no one deserves to see them. These are for me only, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Only for you, Bob.”

“Sit up for me,” he orders gently, guiding you so that he’s able to support you in this position. As he pulls down your zipper, he plants several kisses on the side of your forehead, his sweetness almost overwhelming after the day you endured. His touch grounding you when you need it most.

Bob peels the fabric from your body, helping you remove your arms from the confining sleeves. He pulls it down your body and you use your feet to kick off the now rumpled dress on the bedroom floor. Before you can resume your position beneath him, he deftly unclasps your sleek black bra and flicks his skillful tongue against your exposed, peaked nipple, causing you to fall back against the mattress.

Your unabashed moans fill the room as your fingernails dig into the thick comforter. You’ve imagined moments like these on nights when you were alone and Bob was deployed miles and miles away with email being your sole form of contact. But knowing that you have him here, that this is real, is enough to send you careening over the edge.

His tongue is strategically rolling your pointed nipple back and forth and you find yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself because his touch is worth the wait. When he moves to your other nipple, your hands card through his hair and your legs wrap around his waist because you need to be as close to him as possible. This closeness allows you to feel his bottom half and his erection is prominent, reminding you that he’s as turned on as you are right now.

His mouth travels down your stomach as it leaves wet and somewhat sloppy kisses in its wake. Your nipples are now exposed to the cool air and missing the heat of his mouth, but its current destination is enough to dull your disappointment.

His nose nudges the lacy edge of your black panties, but he doesn’t rush. His sincere eyes meet yours questioningly.

“Can I eat you out, sweetheart?”

“Please, Bobby. Take care of me.”

“Always.” He presses a soft kiss to your clothed center before tugging the fabric to the side and dipping his tongue between your soaked folds. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You try to cross your legs, a little self-conscious about your body’s response to his minimal touch, but he protests.

“Don’t hide from me. Please. Don’t ever hide from me.”

Your legs fall to the side and he tugs your panties down and flings them over his shoulder. The sight of him positioned between your legs with his slightly askew glasses, perfectly styled hair, and enthusiastic gaze is something to behold. His strong hands grasp your thighs and his tongue laps at you fervently. Within seconds, you’re bucking against him and he holds you down, wanting to take his time in tasting you. His tongue enters you and you yelp in surprise as pleasure surges throughout your body.

His tongue moves upwards and swirls around your clit before sucking on it as if it’s the greatest flavor of candy he’s ever tasted. You can’t imagine it ever being any better than this, yet he always manages to prove you wrong the next time. You’ve never been so ecstatic to be wrong.

You feel your orgasm approaching and as much as you want to wait until he’s seated inside you, you can’t garner the strength to tell him to stop. Instead, you pray that he doesn’t stop because you want this. You need this. Less than a minute later, your release arrives. “You’re making me come, Bob. I can’t-“ Your words abruptly trail off and you feel wetness pool out of you, but Bob doesn’t change his motions. His tongue accepts everything you’re giving him with enthusiasm.

When Bob pulls away and meets your satiated, dazed face, his glasses are fogged and his mouth is glistening.

“Bobby.” With this singular word, his mouth is on yours in an instant and he’s kissing you passionately, his tongue clashing against your own. You bring him to your level and clutch him to your chest.

“Not done with you yet,” he growls and this intensifies the heat blooming in your chest along with the achiness thundering between your legs.

He swiftly removes his jeans and t-shirt, but before he strips completely, he guides your hand to the massive bulge that’s barely contained by his briefs. “That’s what you do to me. Every day.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth, even though you’re cognizant of how easily you’re able to turn him on. Though somehow, he seems bigger this time, if that’s even possible.

“Need you inside of me,” you whine impatiently, growing frustrated without his closeness, without his body claiming your own.

“Can’t be premature, honey,” he reminds you. He leans over your exposed body to fetch the vial of lube in the drawer of his nightstand. Although it’s no longer painful, there’s still a burning stretch that accompanies the first few minutes of him entering you. The lube reduces your discomfort and even though you prefer not to prolong the timeframe when Bob’s not inside of you, you know you’re always grateful for it once he’s where he belongs.

He strokes his length with a generous handful of the sticky substance and you watch him, mesmerized at the sight of his mouth-watering, glistening cock. He’s a delicious eight inches with a plush head that always hits the right spots.

“Spread your legs for me, honey,” he instructs sweetly and you notice the blush that colors his cheeks when you heed his command. Even after all this time.

Bob languidly strokes his cock against your soaking clit and through your drenched folds. “Fuck,” he mutters, his eyes scrunching shut. “You feel so good like this. Can’t get over how wet you are.”

“I-I’m sorry. Can’t help it,” you admit as you find yourself barely holding on.

“Don’t apologize. I love it. Love that you’re so needy for me.” He continues sliding his dick up and down your clit and your hands grasp his forearms as you try to steel yourself. You glance at his dick, now covered in a combination of lube and your arousal, and the way it moves against you in a frenzied manner while his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. The sight is so erotic that your body begins to shake. It’s already happening again.

“B…Bob.”

“Come for me. Give it to me and don’t hold back,” he says breathlessly.

A sharp cry pierces the otherwise silent room as a deluge of pleasure consumes you. You relish every second of it, riding the heady wave of euphoria until it’s gone and you’re nothing but mush.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically just as Bob moves so that he hovers above you. “You’re definitely ready for me now,” he shares with a shy smile despite the events that just took place. He lines himself up and fleeting eyes meet yours to confirm he can proceed. Your fingertips graze his cheek with a feather-light touch and the two of you exchange earnest smiles.

Bob slowly pushes himself inside of you and the burning stretch that’s accompanied the other times is almost absent. Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he exhales deeply and shuts his eyes in concentration. You know he’s trying to focus in an effort to make this last as long as possible.

You brush the stray tendrils of hair that fall in his face aside and he looks up at your touch. “It’s okay, Bob. You can move. Just wanna feel you.”

He wordlessly shifts forward and this singular action practically steals the breath from your lungs. He’s so deep and it wasn’t until he reached that spot that you realized how much you yearned for this. This intimacy, this contact, this unparalleled devotion.

Bob inches out only to enter you again and you’re clawing at and clutching at the expanse of his broad shoulders.

“You have the sweetest little pussy. Being inside you feels like home.”

All you can do is make incoherent noises because his sinful movements are robbing you of your voice. Of your ability to do much of anything besides bask in this glorious session of lovemaking. He directs your chin downward. “Look at that. The way you respond to me.”

Watching him disappear and reappear over and over again causes your head to spin. You’re so wet that a prominent squelching noise seems to echo off the walls. Bob notices it, too, because he’s biting his lip and hastening his movements.

“You trust me?” he asks in a serious tone.

“Always,” you reply.

He takes your legs and places each one on his opposite shoulder. He then resumes his movements, but picks up the pace, and this angle causes your vision to blur, colors fading in and out.

“Beautiful,” he punctuates with a particularly emphatic thrust. “You’re so beautiful,” he gushes.

“Honey…honey,” you moan, a victim of his tender words in tandem with every thrust and twist of his hips. You clench around him and Bob shouts, unable to contain himself.

“Close, honey. So. Close.” His voice is huskier, tired, and indicative that he’s in need of a release.

You clench around him again and this time, he freezes above you before a final thrust of his hips that ends with his seed spilling into and dripping out of you. He’s spent and already gave you two orgasms, but this doesn’t stop him from getting you to the finish line a third time.

“You don’t…you d-“

“I made a promise to take care of you, baby. I never break my promises, especially when I’ve made them to you.” He bends down and kisses you, communicating with each stroke of his tongue. You’re important to me. I’ll always take care of you. I love you.

In the middle of your kisses, your third orgasm overtakes you and your release soaks his cock, the two of you a complete mess from your activities. When you come down from your high, Bob rolls over and pulls you to his chest that is now covered in a sheen of sweat, peppering your forehead with kisses.

“Thank you for that,” you whisper bashfully against his chest. “That was amazing.”

He tips your chin so that you’re face to face now. His eyes are soft again and he’s looking at you with such reverence that you think you might cry. “You’re amazing,” he tells you. He tangles his fingers in your hair as his eyes search your face. “Was that what you needed?”

“It was better,” you correct with a kiss on his nose.

A broad grin stretches across his handsome face. “Anything for my best girl.”

Several minutes pass before you speak against, the afterglow of your lovemaking too precious to interrupt.

“Um…Bob?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Did you ever turn the stove off?”

“Oops,” he says sheepishly, causing both of you to erupt into laughter as your naked bodies intertwine and hearts beat in unison.

@bradshawsbaby @luminousnotmatter @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @bobgasm @delopsia @up-thereinthesky @floydsmuse @roosterforme @ryebecca

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #international bob floyd fucks month #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Your weekend is over and you say goodbye to Bradley, but you both hope that it won't be another ten years before seeing each other again. Bradley was desperate for more of you, and this time, he'd make sure to do whatever he needed to get it. He just needs you to fulfill your end of the deal first.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You didn't want to move. Ever. You just wanted to lay here on top of Bradley on your bed in your little house. Keep him with you forever.

This moment was too perfect. His hands rubbed your back underneath the soft fabric of his Grateful Dead shirt, and he was singing to you. He was singing the lyrics of your tattoo, with something extra added on.

You don't know how easy it is to love you, Sugar.

Part of you wanted to fall asleep like this, absorbing his body heat, and his voice, and his love. But you didn't know for sure when you'd get to see him again. You didn't want to think about the possibility that you might not.

Because admitting that you loved each other ten years ago and saying you still felt that way now.... well, that didn't necessarily mean that you and Bradley would be able to mesh your separate lives together into something you could both live with. Although, this weekend that you got to spend reunited with him did feel more serendipitous than you'd like to admit. Your mind was still reeling, still searching for the logic in this situation.

When Bradley stopped singing and you felt his fingers at the back of your neck, you sighed and let yourself enjoy this moment. After you pressed your lips to his scars, you asked him, "Will you send me those selfies you texted to Nat?"

Bradley studied your face, and even with the soft lighting, you could tell his cheeks were flushing with color. "Sure." He kissed you gently and then slipped out from under you to retrieve his phone from the bathroom while you located yours under a pile of discarded clothing on your floor.

"What is it?" you asked, when he sprawled out on your bed once more. "You're blushing right now, Beer Boy."

He handed you his unlocked phone and cleared his throat as you crawled over next to him. "You can send them to yourself. I already saved them to a folder."

"Okay," you said, taking his phone and looking at the wallpaper, which was a picture of his Super Hornet. "Which folder?"

You tapped on the photo gallery and it opened to neatly organized pictures with labels and dates. He had things pertaining to his aircraft, one labeled 'House Projects', and then you saw one that made you suck in a short breath.

There was a folder labeled 'Sugar' at the top of the gallery.

"You have a whole folder of...me?"

He just nodded, his brows furrowed now. "The passcode is your birthday. Text whatever you want to yourself." You could tell he was trying for a tone of nonchalance, but it wasn't translating as cool as he probably thought it was. You typed in your four digit birthday, and the folder opened.

At the top you saw the selfies he had taken just a few hours ago, the ones he sent to his best friend. You started to select them, but then decided to scroll down to see more.

"I thought you said you had one picture of us that you showed to Nat and Bob," you whispered, but Bradley just shrugged.

The folder was filled with candid shots of you from ten years ago at frat parties and in the library study room. There were some where you were smiling and biting your lip, others where you were concentrating on a textbook and paying him no mind. He had even taken a picture of his bedroom door at some point, on which he had written 'SUGAR what's your number?'

"Bradley," you whispered, but he was running his hand through his hair and looking at the ceiling. The pictures you had taken to make Phoebe jealous were all there, too. You and he were in the kitchen at the Beta house, enjoying your fake spring break together. There were photos of you kissing and licking his lips, one of you sucking melted chocolate off of his fingers, and several of Bradley touching and kissing your bare breasts.

"I took those to make Phoebe jealous," you whispered, looking at him while he still avoided your gaze. "I thought you would have deleted them."

He shook his head. "Couldn't bring myself to. Couldn't delete any of them."

You paused for a beat, looking at a selfie of the two of you a few weeks before graduation. He was standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you and his chin resting on your shoulder. You both looked unbelievably happy.

"Did your other girlfriends mind that you kept these?"

Bradley rolled his eyes at you. "Why do you think it has a passcode? None of them knew about it."

You bit your lip and inched closer until your knees were bumping his side. "Do you have a folder for each of your other ex girlfriends, too?" you asked softly.

Bradley finally reached for you, pulling you so you were straddling his lap and looking down at him. "You see any other folders in there?"

You didn't need to scroll to know he only had a folder of you, so you shook your head and started selecting all of the pictures in the 'Sugar' folder to send to yourself.

"It's just you," Bradley whispered. "I've only ever been in love with you."

You hit send and leaned down to kiss him while your phone lit up across the bed.

"I can't fucking believe I could have been texting you this whole time," he said as you kissed his cheek. "I figured you'd blocked me permanently. Or that you had a different phone number. I thought you were probably married."

You laughed and asked, "Would you have really texted me?"

"Hell no," Bradley replied, holding you against him. "Couldn't deal with the disappointment of you not remembering who I was."

You kissed him for a long time. Eventually you both slipped under the blankets, rolling onto your sides and sharing the softest touches. Every gentle brush of his lips against yours felt like the promise he made to you, felt like he would wait to hear your answer after you visited both schools.

"You think I could forget you? I've only ever been in love with you too, Bradley."

------------------------

Every time Bradley pulled you close to him, you lit him up with your laughter. "I don't want to leave," he whined over and over again as you and he made breakfast together on Sunday morning. He couldn't stop touching you through the soft fabric of his old shirt. "Fuck the Navy. I'm staying here."

"You don't mean that," you said with a smile. "Don't you miss your friends? And your Super Hornet?" You were being coy now, and he didn't know if it was because you were going to miss him too, or because you wanted to know where you ranked.

Bradley groaned dramatically. "I don't miss Nat. She was downright sweet to you when you were texting last night. But she's never that nice to me. And I guess I miss flying, but pretty soon, I'll be doing that every day for six weeks."

"That's true, I suppose."

While you tried to plate some pancakes, Bradley whispered, "I'd rather be doing you every day for six weeks."

You giggled and looked up at him over your shoulder. "You always were smooth, Beer Boy. Too smooth for your own good. But does that mean you'll be thinking about me at night? On the aircraft carrier? When you're tired and unable to sleep?"

His eyes drifted closed. Now he had a whole arsenal of images he just knew would be circulating through his mind; 21 year old Sugar and 31 year old Sugar. Both too sweet for him, but exactly what he wanted.

"Not only then. I'll be thinking about you a lot. Waiting to hear from you as soon as I dock back in San Diego."

You fed him bites of pancake while he caged you in against the kitchen counter. "How will I know when you get back? Do they tell you the date ahead of time?"

"Yeah, but sometimes it changes according to the weather and mission parameters. I'll text you as soon as I can. Don't worry about that. You can tell me about the schools, and we can talk on the phone and catch up."

"Okay," you agreed, setting the food off to the side and wrapping your arms around him. And now Bradley was feeling guilty again. He shouldn't be talking to you like this right now. There were too many things up in the air. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thinking of ways to get a transfer to Florida if you picked Miami. He couldn't live without you now.

He took your face in both of his hands, running his thumb along your swollen lips and smiling at the dark smudges under your eyes. Neither of you had slept much last night, and Bradley had been kissing you almost nonstop. "I love you, Sugar."

Your eyes drifted closed briefly before you nodded against his hands. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I don't know if I can stop now."

"Don't."

---------------------------

After you ate, you spent hours in your bed with Bradley, talking and touching each other. Your words grew softer, and you found yourself clinging to him a bit more as the morning turned to early afternoon. You were laughing, and he was kissing your shoulder when suddenly a soft sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back to look up at you, but you just shook your head. "I don't want you to leave."

Then he was looking at you like he was in agony. "I would stay if I could. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Our timing kind of sucks, but maybe we can figure it all out. You're smart, Sugar," he murmured as his lips found your tattoos. "You'll figure it out and let me know where I stand." When you opened your mouth to tell him you could figure it all out right now, he kissed your lips. "But not yet," he added.

Did this man really think you'd fall in love with Miami more than you loved him? You almost laughed, but then he was sucking on one of the spots on your neck that was still tender from last night's activities.

"Bradley," you whined softly. He was hard and pressing against your clit just right. His tongue and lips were soothing your neck only to be met with his prickly mustache.

"I need to leave soon, baby. Tell me how you need it."

The most unholy moan left your lips, and you were surprised you could sound that needy. "Slow. Just go slow."

He nodded against you, sliding through your silky wetness and entering you so leisurely, it somehow felt filthy. When you tried to press up against him to take him faster and deeper, Bradley scolded you.

"No, no. You're getting it slow, Sugar. It's what you need. I need it, too."

"Fuck," you gasped, winding your fingers in his pretty hair while he spread your pussy wide, squeezing your thighs. "Bradley."

And you knew this might be your last time with him like this. At least for a while.

--------------------------------

Bradley was in heaven, basking in the little sounds you made just for him. You had told him he was the best and that you still loved him. But he wanted to be your only one.

As he worked his thumb softly along your clit, he paused his ministrations each time he felt you clench around him. "Please." Your voice was soft and broken, and after he'd taken you close but not all the way a few times, you were begging. "Bradley."

He responded by kissing his name on your lips and tasting your tongue. He swiped his fingers against your clit just the way you liked it best, and you anchored yourself to him with your fingers tugging on his hair.

"Shh, nice and slow," he grunted next to your ear, and once again you were clenching around him. Your moans were building like a crescendo, and soon he was panting just like you were. "I love you. I'd wait forever to be with you again."

He watched a tear leak from the corner of your eye, and he kissed it away as you came on his cock. Bradley rocked into you slowly, watching you squeeze your eyes shut as he filled you up, rubbing his lips and mustache along your neck.

Finally you were looking up at him again, and he was just as mesmerized by your beautiful, expressive face now as he had been in college. Your voice was soft and spent as you whispered, "I love you, too, Beer Boy."

But he knew it was time to leave you. The idea of being away from you again had him panicking like it did before. What if you changed your mind while he was gone for six weeks? Completely out of contact with you? "I'm not going anywhere, Sugar. But I do need to leave."

"I understand." You smiled softly at him, and then your lip quivered as your eyes filled with tears. Bradley withdrew himself from the comfort of your body and wrapped you in his arms.

"I'll text you when I get back. You can let me know when you're able to call me, and we can figure this shit out, okay? I'll text you before I even text Nat, and she's the one who's supposed to pick me up."

You laughed softly against his ear. "Promise me you'll be safe when you're deployed."

He kissed your temple. "Sugar, you know I can't promise you that. But I can promise you that I love you now, and I will still love you in six weeks no matter what happens." He held onto you until the last possible minute, knowing he'd miss his flight if he waited any longer.

When he stood up and started to gather his clothes, you tracked his movements with your eyes. "I'll come to the airport with you. I can Uber back," you told him, jumping out of bed and pulling on the tie dyed shirt and some shorts.

Bradley watched you move around your bedroom, slipping on shoes and grabbing your purse before tucking yourself against his chest.

"We're just prolonging the inevitable, baby."

"I don't care," you replied defiantly. "I'll get an extra thirty minutes with you."

The way you could make Bradley's heart soar left him grinning. "Alright, Sugar. Let's get me to the airport."

The ride was quiet, but you held his hand in both of yours while he drove, and he sang a few Grateful Dead songs. "Sing me my song," you demanded softly, kissing his fingers.

Bradley laughed softly. "You know, you're so perfect, Sugar, it probably was somehow written with you in mind." And then he sang for you until he pulled into the airport to return his rental car.

You kept a firm hold on his hand until you walked him as far as you could go without a boarding pass. When Bradley set down his bag to give you a proper goodbye, your lips were immediately on his. "I love you, Beer Boy," you whispered between kisses. The brush of your lips against his mustache had him holding you tight against him, and he dug his fingers gently into the back of your neck. He kissed you so hard, you were moaning into his mouth, swiping his tongue with yours.

"I never stopped loving you," he panted, breaking away and resting his cheek against your forehead. "You seemed like a mirage the other night, at the bar. I never thought I'd get a chance to look at you again."

You laughed softly. "You can do more than look at me, Bradley. Anytime you want."

Bradley wanted a commitment now. He could feel in his very bones how right that would be. But this wasn't the time for it. "Remember what you promised me."

You nipped along his jaw, saying, "I'll look at both schools, Lieutenant Bradshaw. And then I will report back to you when you are once again on dry land."

"That's my girl," he crooned, and your gaze met his with so many unspoken questions and answers. "I'll be thinking about you. Just like I always do." He kissed your cheek and then pressed his lips to your mouth in one final kiss before getting in line for security. You stood there in his favorite shirt and watched him until you couldn't see him any longer, your arms wrapped around your midsection while you cried.

He used his phone to call you a ride back to your house and texted you the information. You wrote back right away.

This was the best weekend of my life.

------------------------

You were so antsy to talk to Bradley. You were thinking about him all the time now. As you sat on your desk in your office, eating a sandwich and looking at your packed boxes, you wondered if he was eating dinner. Or maybe it was the middle of the night where he was. Maybe he was thinking about you, too.

This room reminded you of him, and he had only been here once. This desk especially reminded you of him. When you passed Ted, the security guard on your way in earlier, you thought about Bradley while Ted blushed and greeted you softly.

And that's how it had been for the past two weeks. You had Beer Boy on your mind almost nonstop. Sure, he'd popped into your thoughts pretty frequently over the last ten years, but this was overpowering. Now that you knew you could reach him by phone if you wanted to, you hated that he was deployed and out of contact.

You sighed, giving in to your urge once more to scroll through Nat's Instagram page. You had already memorized every post with Bradley in it, but it didn't hurt to look once more. And then you told yourself it would be okay to look at all of the photos that had been in his secret Sugar folder.

You had to tip your head back and press your lips together to keep from moaning, because just the thought of Bradley keeping those pictures for ten years made you want him badly.

And then started the vicious cycle of hating deployments.

"Fuck," you groaned, tucking your phone away. You would drop your boxes off with your friend Veronica, and then you had another week in Virginia before you started your adventure.

First stop, Miami.

-------------------

Bradley was laying in his tiny bed aboard the USS Ronald Reagan, thinking about you. He wondered if you were in Miami or San Diego yet. He wondered if you had visited either of the schools. He wondered if you had made a decision and how he would fit into it.

He was halfway through his deployment, and it had been so boring. Even though he desperately wanted to talk to you, he had decided to give you some space while he was gone. So instead, he'd used his one facetime call to talk to Nat, but he had spent most of it catching her up on his weekend in Virginia.

"You're still in love with her," Nat had said with dreamy eyes.

"Yes. I am still in love with her. And I've given her the power to break my heart a second time. Nat, I won't survive."

But in typical best friend fashion, she had been able to calm his nerves and tell him he needed to focus on work for now and give you some space. He would give you as much time and space as you wanted or needed, if he just knew for sure he could see you again.

------------------------

They parted ways, and I want to cry. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

Strawberry Shortcake

pairing: Husband!Henry x Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: henry cavill x shy! reader kitchen smut, pls! Apron + daddy + slap on the ass + cock sucking + gropping + size kinks (requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

requests are open💌/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Woah love what’re you cookin” Henry asked growling in satisfaction seeing his wife start to plate their food and setting it onto the counter top. His smirk only growing when he saw she’d listened to one of his ideas for once, her ass visible out the back of the apron as she wore nothing underneath the baby pink fabric.

“U-uh I made some roast dinner since it’s Sunday, so I thought-“

A large hand smacking her sweet behind put her into absolute shock, her husband immediately pushing himself up against her back to cage her against the counter. His large paws pushing the plates of food far away, before he lifted her up to sit up on the counter to face him at a higher level.

Y/n Cavill was definitely not the most outgoing, some may even label her as shy, but really she was just someone who enjoyed her own company and kept to herself. Now when her husband mentioned a few weeks ago that he’d like to “see his woman cooking in nothin but an apron he bought for her” She felt hotter than the sun and thought she’d never consider the idea.

However, this morning Y/n woke up with a bit more confidence in her bag, finally giving into one of her husband’s biggest fantasies. It’s the least she could do for him after he ran about 15 different grocery stores trying to find a specific brand of chocolate she liked. One might even say she was excited for this, maybe more than Henry.

“What made you do all this then? Not that i’m complaining but if you’re only doing this to make me happy then I don’t want to push you” He said softer, his arms wrapping around her waist and nuzzling his nose against hers sweetly. Her soft strawberry scent filling his nostrils, her lips pecking his cheek,

“No I wanna try it Hen, please, if that’s ok?” Smirking up at her, her apron strings suddenly came undone, the pink fabric coming off completely and falling to the ground. His hands going to grab the globes of her ass as he delivered one hell of a spank, leading her to yelp cutely.

“Look at my precious little housewife, doing anything to please me, isn’t that right darling?” He taunted watching her lips pout out before he grabbed her jaw roughly, forcing her tongue out before spitting on it and pulling her into a tough open mouthed kiss. Their mix of spit landing atop her breasts, only lubricating her nipples even more.

“Such a dirty whore for your daddy huh? How about you make me one instead?”

“mhmm I wanna”

“Yeah course you do” He grinned vainly, his hands groping her breasts, taking one into his mouth as he maintained eye contact with the blushing babe. “These tits are gorgeous, should never hide these” He moaned jiggling them about in his hand, squeezing them gently enough to elicit a soft whimper from her.

Without saying another word, Y/n hopped off the counter and immediately dropped to her knees, her tongue already out waiting obediently. Unbuckling his belt, Henry softly caressed her face before slapping it just enough for a jolt to travel through her soaking pussy. Fisting his cock slowly, he slapped the head of it onto her flattened tongue, watching her drool all over the reddened tip.

Letting her take her time, Henry watched his girl slowly take him into her mouth inch by inch. Her eyes looked up at through her long lashes as her head bobbed back and forth repeatedly. The filthiest sounds erupting from her throat as she cupped his balls, even taking a few seconds to suck on them too while rubbing his cock.

“I can feel you about to cum” She said muffled around his dick, when all of a sudden he pulled her up from the ground and manhandled her into a very compromising position, due to her being so short in comparison. He held her flush against his chest, her thighs pulled apart as he started slipping his cock through her pussy lips, coating it in all her glistening goodness.

“You want me inside you lovie?” He whispered into her ear, his hand coming up to wrap around her throat a bit tightly, his other hand around her waist and landing onto her bulging clit. All for him.

“Mhm, please fuck me, n-need it so bad daddy” She screamed out feeling his whole girth slip between her lips and reach her clit before pulling back again, completely edging her to the point of insanity.

“I don’t know if you’re ready yet honey, I might be a bit too big for you, daddy doesn’t want to hurt you”

“not fair” She whimpered slamming her hips against his, if he wasn’t going to fuck her, then she was going to fuck herself on his cock. Sliding her pussy along his length, she held onto his arms for support as he just continued to grunt and moan behind her. His cock separated her pussy lips and taunted her so well, her pussy tingling with so much want.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, go ahead baby, fuck yourself on your husband’s cock like a dirty whore”

His words only edged her close as his thick fingers rubbed on her burning button, his cock spurting cum all over her thighs as her legs buckled beneath and she near fell to the ground, Henry of course catching her before she could, and setting her onto the kitchen stool; grabbing a wet rag to clean her up. A mix of their cum slowly dripping onto the marbled floor. Henry thought she never looked more beautiful than she did in these type of moments, after an intense loving session.

“You did so good for me beautiful, soso good, my gorgeous girl” He whispered watching her pussy twitch around nothing as he cleaned close to her little fuck hole.

“Thank you Hen, can you hold me for a while longer though?” She asked feeling her shy nature start to return once she calmed down, Henry’s arms picking up her nude form and moving her next door to their living room which was always covered in weighted blankets, blankets that helped her when she felt overstimulated or just anxious.

“Of course I can honey, now get under there and get into my arms” He ushered her under the blanket first after he got his boxers back on, making sure to wrap her like a massive burrito, then placed her into his side. Right where she belonged.

——-/

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @stormcloudss @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @princess-paramour @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyefperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

#romance #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom

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megistusdiary · 1 year

Note

Omg your Tighnari x reader x Cyno fic was everything I could have ever wanted. Would it be too greedy of it to want a sequel or even just another scenario? 👉👈

it has been a while since i wrote that fic omg but yes. it also got put under a community label which makes me like >:( but ok.

let's do a little bit of a different scenario for this one teehee. this one will have male/male content, so if you're not down with that, keep scrolling 👍

we go right into the smut with this so it's just that lol

warnings: dom!cyno, sub brat!tighnari, and switch!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

bj, penetration (male/male), face riding/cunnilingus, manhandling, riding, cyno is under yall but he is still domming 😇, tighnari is a little brat here

cyno's hands rested firmly on tighnari's hips, holding his back to cyno's chest as he squirmed. you were sat on tighnari's lap, lips pressed to his neck.

your fingers were occupied with tracing over his bare chest, stopping to tease over his nipples as tighnari whined.

his back arched up slightly when your hands ventured lower, skimming your nails lightly over his abdomen.

"please.." tighnari huffed, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned back against cyno. "it's not fair."

you glanced up at cyno, shivering when you realized he was already looking at you with a half-lidded gaze. your hands paused, tilting your head and awaiting his orders.

"keep going." he nodded as you returned to your work, leaning down and sliding off of tighnari's lap. he finally looked down at you, ears twitching as your hands moved to spread his thighs.

you placed a small kiss to his tip, feeling the slick slide across your lips as you smiled up at him.

"come on, please! i already said please!" tighnari snapped, gasping softly when cyno pulled at the base of his tail gently.

"behave." he warned tighnari. "be a good boy."

tighnari grumbled to himself, but made no further remarks as he waited for you to continue.

you trailed your lips over the entirety of his dick before finally opening your lips and letting the head slide over your tongue.

"archons-" tighnari's lips parted as you slowly slid down over him, laving your tongue across the heated skin.

cyno moved a hand to smooth over tighnari's hair, caressing his ears as the man let out little whines, shifting over cyno's lap as you bobbed your head up and down.

tighnari felt himself growing close, and you could tell by the way he twitched in your mouth. you wanted to tip him over the edge, though your plans were foiled when cyno reached over to press a hand onto your head.

"you did well, now come here."

"but-" tighnari began to protest, hands balling up into fists as you slowly pulled off of his dick. strands of glossy spit mixed with tighnari's pre-cum coated your lips.

cyno moved a hand to grip tighnari's chin, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed. "i already told you once to behave. don't make me say it again."

"you don't scare me, general mahamatra." tighnari scoffed. "i can do as i please. and besides, i didn't do anything wrong and yet you're punishing me." his tail lashed to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest. "being good gets you nothing."

you frowned as cyno sneered, standing off the bed and yanking tighnari up to his knees. "need i remind you who's in charge here. perhaps you should take some lessons from our other partner on obedience."

although his ears pressed to his head, he seemingly did not give in. "yeah, it seems so rewarding considering she hasn't come yet either."

cyno glanced over at you, biting his cheek as he watched your thighs press together. "so it seems." he dropped tighnari's head, instead moving towards you. "i'm sorry for neglecting you." he apologized, stroking your cheek as you nuzzled into his touch.

"we've both been good. you just don't reward us ever." tighnari commented as cyno frowned.

"perhaps you're right." cyno sighed much to tighnari's surprise. "even though you did act up," he paused to stare at tighnari who let out a grunt. "i think you both deserve a reward, hm?" he asked you as you nodded up at him.

"please?" you asked him as the corners of his lips quirked up. he pressed a kiss to your forehead before manuvering you and tighnari as he wished.

he splayed himself out on the bed, hair fanned out across the pillows. you were resting on his chest while tighnari was sat on his lap.

"come here." cyno gestured, gripping your thighs and tugging you forward.

you tried to protest, pulling against him. "no, you'll suffocate or-!"

cyno silenced you as he moved you to hover over his lips, holding you firmly and pressing a kiss to your clit. you shivered, turning to face tighnari who busied himself with licking over the tip of cyno's cock.

his eyes flitted up to meet yours as you gasped, hands flying to grip onto cyno's locks as he moved his tongue over your slit. "cyno.. archons-"

his tongue moved across your pussy, collecting your slick diligently as you writhed in his grip, struggling to keep yourself from falling against him.

he suddenly stopped, picking you up when tighnari positioned himself over cyno's dick. "padisarah, you-"

"oh please. i've been waiting for this. i already prepped." tighnari smirked, slowly sinking down onto cyno's cock as the white haired male let out a sharp hiss through his teeth.

"tight-" he huffed, moving your hips back down and grinding you against his tongue as you cried out.

tighnari leaned back, hands pressed against the bedsheets as he took cyno to the base. his thighs were trembling as cyno stretched him out. one hand flew up to his mouth to cover up an embarrassing moan.

your hips began to move on their own, more of your weight pressing down on the general as you fucked his tongue.

little begs and pleas flooded from your lips as he sucked on your clit carefully, teasing you and watching tears build up in your eyes.

every so often, he would stop for a moment, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of tighnari wrapped around his dick. he grunted into your pussy, making you shiver from the vibrations when tighnari swiveled his hips.

you craned to look back at him, letting out a needy whine at the sight. he had one hand wrapped around his cock while he used the other to steady himself to bounce on cyno's lap.

his ears were pressed back, eyes shut as he threw his head back. he looked so lost in pleasure, dick leaking over his hand and cyno's stomach. you wondered if he was teetering over the edge, just waiting for cyno's approval to come.

your fingers twisted deeper into cyno's hair, tugging as he slid his tongue into your entrance, wriggling it inside of you as you shook above him.

"cyno, i'm- i'm close!"

"cyno, please!" tighnari chimed in, gasping as he struggled to keep going, thighs trembling and eyes watering.

the both of you cried out pleas mixed with his name until he finally allowed you both finish.

tighnari was first, crying out as he came. strings of his release coated his hand, cyno's stomach, and your back.

your eyes screwed shut, head tilting back as you came soon after. cyno's hands moved you faster as he bucked his hips into tighnari who was seemingly extremely sensitive.

tighnari cried out as cyno fucked into him, pressing into his prostate as tears ran down his cheeks from the overstimulation. "no more, i can't-!" he whined, feeling his dick leaking more where it laid on cyno's abdomen.

your own overstimulated cries followed as cyno held you on his mouth, refusing to let you go as he chased his orgasm.

by the time cyno finished, you and tighnari were trembling little messes on the bed, eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion while your chests heaved.

cyno couldn't help but stand over you both to admire his handiwork, pressing little kisses to your foreheads as he allowed you both to rest and bask in the afterglow of your orgasms.

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

* LAST UPDATED 3/11/24 *

Welcome to my blog! Thank you for being here! ♥️

Please be aware that this blog is 18+. Any blank blogs and/or blogs with no age or age range listed will be blocked.

Below, you’ll find a compilation of the stories I’ve published on this sideblog, as well as playlists I’ve created to pair with the stories/universes that I write for. Any and all feedback is always so deeply appreciated!

For people who may be new around here, I’ve also provided a little bit of information that will hopefully make it easier to navigate my works!

who you’ll find around here:

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw - Most of my Rooster stories take place within the “Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw/Bradshaw Family” universe that I’ve established, but I’m also currently writing an Ancient Rome AU series with Rooster and have plans for other series in the future!

Hangman & Phoenix (Hannix) - My stories about Hangman and Phoenix exist within the same universe as the Bradshaw Family. I write about their “Friends With Benefits” Era, as well as their established relationship and married/family life.

Robert “Bob” Floyd - I’m currently writing a World War II AU series with Bob, and I’ve written other standalone stories for him as well. I have plans to write more stories with Bob in the future!

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) - What can I say? I fell in love with Lewis Pullman and that led me straight into the arms of a bull-riding cowboy. My Rhett stories generally take place within the “Rhett & Honeybee” universe.

ask box/requests:

My ask box is always open! I love chatting with you all about anything and everything, so never be afraid to drop a message, anonymously or not!

I’m open to requests and suggestions, but please know that that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll write every request I receive. Please don’t take it personally! I work full-time and only have a certain amount of time to write, so I try to stick to what sparks some inspiration.

engagement:

I put warnings before all my stories, so please make sure to check them before reading any of my works. If you feel there’s a warning I’ve missed, feel free to let me know!

Not all of my stories are 18+, but I carefully label the ones that are. Again, please be respectful and check all warnings before engaging.

Reblogs and comments make a writer’s day! No matter how “old” the story might be, I love to read your feedback!

A simple key for the stories linked below:

* = Requested

+ = 18+

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. I)

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. II)

A Glimpse of Them (Rooster x Wife!Reader, Goose x Carole) *

You, Me, and Karaoke (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Until I Saw You (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

The First Time (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) + *

Show Me All the Scars You Hide (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

The Proposal (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Honeymoon Shopping (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader) *

Wedding Bells (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hawaiian Breeze (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Tan Lines (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Surprise Gift (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Flight Scare (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Sweet Revenge (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Emergency (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Missing You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Mirror, Mirror (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Save the Last Dance (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Breathe (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hands Off (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Happy Birthday, Bradley! (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Bad Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

It’s A Lovely Day Today (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Let’s Do Some Kissing and Making Up (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Anniversary Treat (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

I’m Here (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Power’s Out (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Government Issued (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

You’re Beautiful (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Always By Your Side (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Birthday Girl (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

In Sickness and In Health (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Bronco Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Only You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

The Better Man (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Piano Lesson (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Special Visit (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

Holding Out For A Hero (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Underneath the Tree (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Looks Like Christmas (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Forever Valentine (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader)

My Birthday Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

The Bradshaw Family

Rooster As A Father (Pt. I)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. II)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. III)

Welcome to the World (Goose x Carole)

That’s Our Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pool Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fun on the Fourth (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Show and Tell (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

A Whole New World (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fall & Halloween With The Bradshaws (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Defending Mommy (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Goose’s First Birthday (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pop! (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Homecomings and Heart-to-Hearts (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Hannix/Hangman & Phoenix

My Favorite Mistake // FWB Pt. 1 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Friends With Benefits // FWB Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What He Tells Himself // FWB Pt. 3 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What She Tells Herself // FWB Pt. 4 (Hangman x Phoenix)

The Night She Stayed // FWB Pt. 5 (Hangman x Phoenix)

SFW Alphabet for Hangman & Phoenix

So This Is Love // FWB Pt. 6 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

The Seresin Family (Hangman x Phoenix)

Little Black Dress (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Fall & Halloween With The Seresins (Hangman x Phoenix)

Never Alone (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Merry Christmas, Darling (Hangman x Phoenix)

A Valentine’s Day to Remember (Hangman x Phoenix)

Locker Room Tryst (Hangman x Phoenix) * +

The Cowboy Rule (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Bob As Your Husband *

No Words (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Senses (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Change of Plans (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

Sprinkles of Love (Bob x Female Reader)

scenes from the kitchen sink (Bob x Female Reader)

Like Peas in a Pod (Bob x Female Reader)

Alternate Universe (AU) Series

Letters to My Love (Bob x Female Reader) // World War II

Si Vis Amari Ama (Rooster x Female Reader) // Ancient Rome +

Playlists

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Hangman & Phoenix

Rhett Abbott

Oneshots/Miscellaneous

SFW Alphabet for Rooster

Hangman As Your Husband

Love in the Air (Rooster x Female Reader)

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range)

a sky full of stars (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

to the nines (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

rhett to the rescue (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

love in the air at the county fair (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

the christmas gift (rhett x wife!reader) *

snow angels (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

all i wanna do is make love to you (rhett x girlfriend!reader) + *

baby’s first christmas (rhett x wife!reader) *

afternoon delight (rhett x girlfriend!reader) +

baby mine (rhett x wife!reader)

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #rooster headcanons #miles teller #hannix #hangman x phoenix #top gun: maverick #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #writing masterlist

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

Sunscreen

Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bob burns. Your daughter gets very paranoid when he forgets his sunscreen one morning and insists on bringing it to him.

wc: 1.4k

a/n: ahhh my first bob fic. I just love the idea of him as a dad!

“Do you have everything?” You called from the kitchen, the rustling of objects from upstairs perking your ears.

“I got it, darlin’,” Bob told you kindly as he trotted down the stairs while zipping his tan backpack.

Beach football had become a tradition since the first game almost seven years ago. One football emoji from Maverick in the team’s group chat would have everyone rushing off base or nearby homes and gathering on the beach across from the Hard Deck. Bob would smile every time but quickly turn off notifications and grimace as Phoenix and Hangman started their taunts.

The blond wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, “Don’t come home with a bloody nose, please,” you jokingly pleaded, pushing up his aviator glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Your husband chuckled and draped his backpack over his shoulder before walking over to the other side of the counter. His hand playfully grabbed hold of one of his daughter's space buns and pulled her closer. “Be good for your mom, Ames” he told her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m always good, daddy,” the six-year-old sighed dramatically and looked up at him, her matching aviator glasses slipping off the nose that also matched her father's.

“I know, but as your dad, it’s my job to say it,” he reminded her matter of factly before offering a quick ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ll see you later’ to his favorite girls.

Amy returned to her coloring book, her cheek resting against the palm of her hand as she meticulously colored her half-finished page. You leaned against the counter and watched as he walked towards the front door, casually eyeing him up and down with a smirk appearing on your face as his yellow shirt rose slightly. “Gross,” Amy mumbled under her breath after hearing the door shut.

You playfully scoffed and tugged on her other bun before kissing her forehead. “One day when someone catches your eye, baby, the payback will feel so good,” you chuckled before leaving her to her coloring book.

The house was still.

Like her father, Amy was a quiet child and her soft voice only ever rose when she was in distress or angry, which wasn’t often. “Mom!” she cried. Your blood turned cold at the shrill tone of her light voice, the basket of clothes collided with the wood floor.

“Amy,” you breathed as you hurried into the room, your heart pounding against your chest. The little girl stood in the center of the kitchen, tears filled to the brim as she looked down at the cylinder spray bottle in her hand. You came closer and got down on your knees, instantly looking for scrapes. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, moving the can towards you. “Daddy left his sunscreen,” she told you meekly.

Your face instantly softened as she passed it to you. Amy was never the same after last summer when the sunscreen was left in the room while you were out in the hot weather. Bob came back a bright blinding shade of red. The sounds of his pained groans and restless nights still haunted Amy. She hated to see her dad in any kind of pain or even slight discomfort.

“He’ll probably borrow Aunt Nat’s sunscreen,” you tried to reassure her, taking your finger and pushing up her glasses.

“But it’s his special sunscreen,” she grumbled, her eyes slowly narrowing. “We have to go give it to him!”

You looked down, the bold labeling reading: up to 110-degree protection. A laugh threatened to escape your poorly concealed smile. Bob swore by this stuff, proudly taking it with him everywhere during summer outings since the incident. “Ok,” you gave in, “we’ll go.”

The salt air was refreshing, the seagulls wailing loudly from above and the testosterone-fueled shouts were not any less quiet. You took a quick glance inside the windows of the Hard Deck, sending a quick wave to Penny before Amy pulled on your other hand.

“I see him!” Amy gasped excitedly, seeing Bob sitting in the sand with some of the other aviators while they reset for the next game. She let go once she noticed you watching, taking off towards Bob. “Daddy!” she called.

Bob’s eyebrows knitted together as he heard the familiar voice, he looked up to the sun wondering if he was overheating. The voice called to him again, the voice huffing and puffing before standing in front of him, her little shadow blocking his slightly pink face from the blazing sun. He looked down in surprise, “What are you doing here?” he asked with a grin.

“You left your sunscreen at home,” she said as she pulled away, showing him the can.

“She was adamant about bringing it to you,” you chimed in from behind. Bob’s torso turned and he wrapped his arm around your calf to pull you closer to his side.

Bob chuckled and took the can, pressing his kiss to her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’,” he hummed. Amy put her hands on her knees and inspected his face, noticing the small patch of red forming on his nose. There was only one way to get her to relax. Bob popped open the lid and removed his glasses before spraying it all over his face. “Is that better?” he asked, one of his blue eyes opening to see her reaction.

She was about to tell him to spray his face once more but a gasp left her throat as she was hoisted into the air and seated on broad shoulders. Her eyes were screwed shut and her arms had a death grip around the person’s neck. “I didn’t think I’d get to see my favorite girl today,” he said.

Her eyes opened once she heard his Texas drawl. “Jake!” she giggled, her eyes opening widely and a bright smile forming on her lips.

“Come to save your old man from losin’, baby bob?”

Amy blushed and shook her head bashfully. It was no secret to the team that Amy had a little crush on Hangman. “No, daddy left his sunscreen at home. I didn’t want him to get burnt.” Jake looked down at Bob and tsked, teasingly shaking his head in disapproval before carrying Amy off towards the water.

You took a seat next to Bob and looped your arm around his. “You know I just borrowed Natasha’s, right?” You couldn’t help but smile at the small laugh he had in his voice, it was your favorite sound in the world.

“I know,” you sighed, resting your head on his clothed shoulder. “You should have seen her face. She was worried you looked like a lobster.”

“I was doing just fine,” he hummed, turning to kiss your temple. “I promise.”

You looked down at his sand-ridden forearm. Raising a single eyebrow in suspicion, “You’re looking a little pink there,” you smirked, nudging him with your shoulder. Untangling your arms, you moved to sit on your knees, taking the can from its spot in the warm sand. “You could always…” your voice faded off as you eyed him up and down, hoping he’d get the hint.

Bob noticed the slight change in your tone and watched as your thighs clamped together while your eyes examined his clothed chest. “Baby,” he said in a low voice.

"Lift," you said sternly. He did as he was told and lifted his arms so you could spray his strong arms. You looked over, Amy was still sitting on Jake’s shoulders as he ran her down the beach, her little arms held the red football tightly to her chest, and giggled as the guys tried to reach for it. “She’s with her fan club,” you murmured before dragging in your lower lip.

The blond gave in and took off his shirt, gently placing it over his backpack. “This is what does it for you?” he joked, pointing at his pale skin.

“Very much so.” You nodded happily and started to spray his chest and back. Goosebumps started to form from the cold mist, naturally flinching to get away from it. “You should keep your shirt off,” you told him, sending a wink in his direction.

He pulled you in for a kiss, “You would like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” he mumbled against your lips.

“You guys are so gross!” Amy whined as she trotted towards you, plopping down right in between your bodies. Bob rolled his eyes and took back the sunscreen, spraying a little on his finger and dabbing it on her nose. She pouted, yet still nuzzled against his bare chest. “Thank you,” she sighed, scrunching her wet nose.

Amy shifted into your lap after the team called for Bob. He groaned and stood up from his spot, instinctively reaching for his t-shirt. A low hum of dissatisfaction rumbled from your throat, his head whipped towards you and caught your knowing expression. “Fine,” he sighed before walking back towards the beach, looking back to see your grin. He looked down at Amy and pushed up his glasses, making his daughter giggle and do the same.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fluff #top gun #top gun maverick

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ninyard · 25 days

Note

“God, how blind can you be?”

That would be such a great line for a kevjean confession if Jean ever told Kevin abt his crush on him in the nest.

Ty, have a great day :))

You’re a genius!!! Here’s Kevin being Oblivious and Confused while Jean admits how he’s always felt about him :))

“Can I ask you something?” Kevin lay in Jeremy’s bed, on top of the covers, with arms outstretched and his feet dangling off the edge. “But you can’t get defensive, because I’m not the one who’s wondering.”

“Now I am obligated to be defensive.” Jean was sitting on his back up against the wall on his own bed, scribbling notes in a notebook for an assignment due far too soon. Kevin had texted him earlier that morning saying that he was in town, and with Jeremy at home because it was a weekday, alongside the schoolwork Jean had started to fall behind on, the best way for the two to catch up was to invite Kevin over. “Ask, then.”

“Are you…” Kevin sat himself up to look at Jean before he continued. “Are you and Renee a thing?”

“No.” Jean laughed. “She has not told you this?”

“We aren’t that close,” Kevin shook his head. “She likes you, you know.”

Jean could feel himself blushing, but hoped his newfound tan covered the colour that spread across his cheeks. “I know. We’ve spoken about it.”

“You’ve spoken about it,” Kevin repeated as if saying it again would make it make more sense. “I thought you liked her.”

“It would never work.” Jean said. “She saved my life. It would always be hanging over the two of us.”

“Okay, sure, but…” Kevin moved to get a better view of Jean while they spoke. “You do like her?”

Jean read his face with a gentle smile, shutting his notebook and putting it to one side. “What is this about?”

His friend squinted his eyes, perhaps hoping he could get his point across telepathically without having to say it out loud. He glanced towards the door and laughed. “So you like Renee.”

“I will always love her for what she has done,” Jean said with a shrug. “But no, not so much anymore. We’re good friends.”

“Point being,” Kevin nodded with an over exaggerated, enthusiastic bob of his head. “You’re into women.”

Jean felt his face fall, as if Kevin had forgotten his name, or forgotten which position he played in. He scoffed, half a laugh and half disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I right?”

“Kevin, you can’t be serious.” Jean echoed, and Kevin furrowed his eyebrows as if he had any right to be confused. “Where has this come from?”

“A friend of a friend wants to know,” Kevin brushed that off, and continued his staring stand-off with Jean. “Why would I not be serious?”

Jean gestured around himself, not even able to come up with a simple answer to his question. Jean was never bothered about the labelling of his sexuality, but had been bothered by its display. At least, publically, he thought, which just translated to not in front of Riko. Not Kevin, never Kevin. Kevin had known, or so he thought, about his infatuations and fleeting glances at the men he thought were handsome. Kevin had known about himself, and how it made Jean feel every time he heard the sweet sound of his native tongue falling from his lips.

“You…” Nothing felt good enough, and Jean laughed at the absurdity of it all. “You know it’s not just women, Kevin.”

Kevin blinked. “Do I?”

“Those foxes have rotted your brain,” Jean switched to French, ever so slightly startling Kevin out of his confused daze. “I knew you had moved on from the nest, but I did not think you would have forgotten so much about me.”

“Well, in my defense,” Kevin responded in his learned language, and Jean melted a little bit more inside. “Jeremy asked you if you were into men, and you never answered him, so he assumed he’d read you wrong.”

“Jeremy?” Jean spat in a failed whisper. “What does Jeremy have to do with this?”

Kevin became even more confused. “Who else would it have anything to do with?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jean shifted his position to sit closer to the edge of the bed. “You know it has everything to do with you.”

“Me?” He said in English, as if wary he’d gotten the translation wrong. He continued in French. “Okay, there must be a miscommunication here.” He switched back to English then, as he started to stumble over his French, suddenly self conscious that he was not speaking correctly. “I’m lost, Jean.”

“I have always been open with you,” Jean said. “I have never hidden from you my interests in men and women. Why would you pretend not to know that?”

Kevin open and closed his mouth a few times, his hands outstretched, waiting for the answer to fall into them. “I didn’t know that.”

Jean shut his eyes to process what Kevin was saying. Perhaps Jean had simply given his intelligence far too much credit, and he had not been as clear to Kevin as he’d imagined he’d been. He thought that impossible, with their shared glances on a lonely night, with their comfort of each other when Riko wasn’t looking. “Some of them you like,” Jean quoted something he’d said to him before. “You said this about the Trojans. If you were not talking about the striker, then who were you talking about?”

“Like, as in,” Kevin’s smile was more genuine than awkward, apparently finding some amusement out of the confusion. “A fan of. You like someone. They interest you. You’re as much of a Jeremy fan as I am. I didn’t think you were into him.”

“And you were not.” Jean didn’t pose it as a question, more of a statement, an answer for himself.

“He’s not bad to look at, don’t get me wrong,” Kevin laughed at the thought. “But not like that. He’s just a really good friend.”

Jean pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Kevin’s movement and felt the weight on the bed next to him as he sat down. When Jean opened his eyes, he had to look away, far too intoxicatingly reminded of his buried thoughts about Kevin.

“Jean,” Kevin pulled his attention back to him, and Jean forced himself to look into his eyes. “Why did you say it has everything to do with me?”

“God,” Jean clicked his tongue in pity, either for himself for being so stupid to think Kevin knew, or at Kevin for not noticing. “How blind can you be?”

“You had a crush on me.” Kevin’s voice was neutral. “You never told me.”

Jean sighed with a hesitant smile. “I thought I did.”

It felt like an age before Kevin decided to respond. It felt like the season had passed, like a year in Raven time had gone by, before he spoke. It was hard to ignore the blush that crept across his lightly freckled cheeks, as Jean found himself fixated on the chess piece on his cheekbone. They were too close, now, and he could feel himself burning up with the shame of it all.

“I didn’t know.” It was simple, not enough, but perhaps the best he could do. “For how long?”

Jean couldn’t help the twitch that spread up his face, “You are the one interested in history, not me.”

“Humor me.”

“For as long as I have known you, Kevin Day.” His eyebrows raised in surprise at that answer. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He couldn’t find a smile that would sit comfortably on his face, and Jean wasn’t sure whether his fidgeting was discomfort or not.

“I never expected anything to come from it,” he attempted to clear the air. “I assumed you knew and simply decided not to address it. Looking back, it’s best you didn’t know, then, I think.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Kevin’s voice was low as he racked his brain for evidence to support Jean’s truth. “I wish you’d told me.”

“To feed your ego?” Jean laughed. “To make a straight man feel better to know he is desirable from either side?”

“You don’t have to say that, either.” Kevin spoke in French like it were a secret. “I’m with Thea now, sure, but,” he struggled. “I’m not exactly, you know… strict about it. It’s just easier this way.”

The only thing Jean could do was look at him.

The only thing he could bear to think was all the times he’d whispered in Jean’s ear, and Jean had to hide the shiver that travelled down his spine at the heat of the words thats he spoke. He thought of Kevin’s hands around his waist as he forced him into position on the court, a quick touch, an order to be better, a demand to be where he needed him to be. Then there was the blood, and the spit running down his chin, black hair stuck to sweat and tears as he cried please, Jean. Take him away from here. He thought of exposed bone and blood trickling through the cracks on the locker room floor, or a cracked skull against a door frame when he found Riko afterwards. There was the note, a single sloppy word, poorly written by a hand that had never wrote before. Sorry. The paper had been marked with Kevin’s blood, and it would be the last thing he would hear from him for months.

Kevin had stopped Jean’s hands before he noticed them travelling up his own throat.

“For the record, there is only one reason why nothing would have come from it,” Kevin meant it as a comfort, and Jean felt his heart break a little bit more. “But it’s the same reason it never would have worked.”

Jean was not naive, either. He was smart enough to know there was no universe in which any sort of relationship with Kevin would have been realistic. He was a beautiful face during a time that was rarely beautiful, a face that patched him up when he was black and blue, a face that smiled and joked at him when all he wanted was an end to the suffering. “I know.” Jean said, acutely aware that Kevin had not let go of his hands, even as they rested between them on the bed. “You will always be my first love, but I am smart enough to know that is meaningless now.”

“Maybe so,” Kevin looked at their hands. “But it could have been fun.”

“Fun, he says,” Jean scoffed, and Kevin laughed one of his genuine laughs, the tension in the room dissipating with the sound of his joy. Jean pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, to cover his face. He could feel himself blushing at the thoughts of what fun could have meant. “And what would you have done, asked the king to leave your room for an hour?”

It was Kevin’s turn to blush then, as he laughed again. Jean tried to push down the resurfacing feelings as he wondered what he could’ve possibly been imagining. “We would have found a way.” His laugh died off with a wistful sigh. “Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Jean agreed.

Kevin let the silence hang for just a moment before he gently reached up to touch Jean’s tattoo, then letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Maybe in another life.”

Jean swallowed and let out a soft exhale. “Maybe.”

They spent far too long just looking at each other, imagining what could have happened in that other life, wondering how it could’ve been different. Kevin eventually got back to the point of his conversation, and after laughing about how Jean has a thing for strikers, and how Kevin had never actually had a crush on Jeremy, Jean ignored his study for the flowing conversations he’d missed so badly. It was true that Kevin had been his first love, and he would be lying to himself if he said it would ever go away, but they had been each other’s only friend for so long. It was a long overdue catch-up without the threat of violence for laughing too loud, or sitting too close together. He didn’t pretend not to notice the way Kevin’s eyes flicked to his lips every now and again, or how quickly he would look away when he caught himself doing so. It was difficult to ignore how his cheeks turned rosy then, and even more so difficult to ignore how much he’d forgotten how beautiful Kevin really was.

For just a single, simple moment Jean wondered what it would be like to kiss him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind for a very, very long time. Jean pictured a timeline in which they were both able to give it a shot without immeasurable guilt, or shame, or fear over the court of public opinion. He found himself being reminded over and over again that Kevin had finally said it himself that his sexuality was a fluid thing. There were more reasons that not to write it off as a wrong place, wrong time kind of issue, but even with the stomach churning, butterfly inducing thought of Jeremy Knox and his callused hands, it was certain that Kevin would always be his greatest what-if.

It was a pity that they would both continue on with their lives not knowing what could have been, but perhaps for the best; they were both at points in their lives where, for the first time ever, they were happy. They were not constantly glancing over their shoulders waiting for a threat.

Maybe in another life, Jean told himself. Maybe in some other world.

#pacing issues? idk her!#here’s some blind bisexual Kevin day #and too-open Jean Moreau wrongfully assuming Kevin can pick up on clues at ALL.#kevjean kevjean kevjean #my rotten little brain #kevjean #kevin day #Jean Moreau #tsc #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the sunshine court #love my little bisexuals

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sailtomarina · 7 months

Text

Mare of Desire

cw: smut, sex pollen

“Granger, are you sure we should be out here?”

She ignored his question and tugged on Draco’s hand insistently, leading him into the darkness. He nearly stumbled on a tree root in her haste. He didn’t fancy falling flat on his face in front of the girl he’d just convinced to take his bid for friendship seriously.

“Granger, slow down.”

She spun around with a huff and smacked him on his chest.

“Ow!” Draco rubbed at the spot where she’d hit him. Why was she always hitting him?

“Oh, stuff it, Malfoy. I didn’t hit you that hard.” She smirked at the wounded look he gave her and he wondered for the millionth time why he liked this witch. She was violent. She was mouthy. She made him want to tear his hair out.

He also desperately wanted to snog her until she couldn’t breathe, until she slumped in his arms and he swept her up and dragged her straight into his bed.

First thing’s first.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Trust me?” The smirk remained, but her eyes had relaxed as she searched his eyes and waited.

“Against my better judgment, yes.”

The tiny uptick of her lips widened into a grin that on any other face might be labeled evil. Granger made it look inviting. “Then let’s go.”

Her hand tightened on his and she took off again at a more measured pace. They pressed deeper into the Forbidden Forest, and Draco tried to ignore the coldness creeping across his skin, tendrils winding their way beneath the collar of his shirt and curling into his hair. They were legally adults now. The centaurs would be well within their rights to treat them accordingly if they caught them, students or not.

He tried to focus instead of the girl in front of him. Her ponytail bobbed along as she pressed forward, curls bouncing, almost inviting him to touch them. She kept up a steady hike like she’d been wandering forests all her life. Draco considered himself fit enough with Quidditch, despite the past couple of years without, but even he was feeling a tad winded from their nonstop stride.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask her where she got all her energy from, she slowed down.

“I think it’s just up ahead.”

Draco peered past the surrounding gloom towards the soft glow beyond the small hill in their path.

“What is that?”

He only received a gentle squeeze on his hand in response. Hermione proceeded much more cautiously than she had first the bulk of their journey. Interestingly, the fear that had threatened to wrap him in a chilly embrace had abated. He wouldn’t say that he was warm, exactly, but he did feel strangely drawn to the light ahead of them.

They both gasped the moment they crested the incline. Before them sprawled a small, moonlit glade throughout which a field of dark purple flowers Draco had never before seen grew and cast a lilac glow all around them.

“They’re more beautiful than I expected,” Hermione breathed, voice reverent in her awe.

“How did you know about this place? What are these?” As stunned as Draco was at the sight, he couldn’t shake the caution that warned him that they did not belong. As a Potions Master, his godfather had instilled in Draco a healthy respect for plant life, most especially unknown flora.

“Luna found it.”

That revelation did little to assuage Draco’s wariness. It did the opposite. He backed up a few steps, and since Granger still held his hand in hers, she looked back startled at his retreat.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t think we should be here.” Was it just him, or did the flower heads seem to all turn their direction as if watching? He shuddered at the horrible notion.

“You said you trust me, right?”

His eyes snapped back towards hers. All teasing was gone. In its place was genuine concern. She bit her lip as she waited for his reply, and he couldn’t stop himself from licking his own.

“Yeah.”

“Then keep on trusting me,” she murmured, brows rising high on her forehead in a plea.

Without any further protest, he followed her straight into the purple haze. The flowers along the path seemed to part and accept the humans who thought themselves safe. Neither Draco or Hermione brushed the petals that arced away even as wizard and witch continued their climb.

“Here we are.” She came to a stop in front of one of the mysterious plants. Unlike the others, with their vibrant violet petals, this one was so dark and swollen it might have been identified as a poisonous variety. Rather than drop Draco’s hand, Hermione turned to beckon him forward next to her. “I’ll cut it. Try to catch it without moving it too much. Keep it upright.”

He nodded his understanding and raised his free hand to hover in preparation. One severing charm later, and the bud landed softly in the palm of his hand.

“Gently now,” she breathed, watching him as he pulled their spoils closer. “One moment…”

She fumbled at her bag. While she did so, Draco found himself leaning forward. Why had she been so particular about the flower’s handling? His head bent as his wrist tipped, nose brushing against the opening. There was a fleeting fragrance, one he hadn’t noticed before somehow, even surrounded as they were.

Herimone popped back upright, jar in hand. “Here we are—Draco, no!”

He inhaled deeply, heady with a perfume both alien and altogether too familiar. Salty, tangy, sweet, fleeting, all-encompassing—

His nose was almost buried within the opening, pressed up against the stigma and its surrounding stamen. A painful grip on the back of his head yanked him backwards, sending a cloud of yellow pollen into the air around them.

Of course, Hermione breathed in as she opened her mouth to no doubt yell at him for his stupidity. The tight strain on his strands loosened, and she shuddered in place as she, too, inhaled deeply a second time. They stood there, sucking in lungfuls of pollen-filled air like a couple of addicts.

It could have been mere minutes, or hours. They were never sure. When they came to their senses, the moon still hung in the sky, the flowers around them still gave off their light, but the black specimen for which she had searched through the entire field hung limp in Draco’s fist, lacking its original turgidity.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what came over me—” Draco turned to face her in his apology, but froze the instant their eyes connected.

Whatever caused the other flowers to glow seemed to now affect Granger, the same lilac shade radiating off her pale skin.

“Draco…you’re glowing…” she whispered.

He’d look down at himself, but found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. Now that they stood close, noses brushing against one another in their inspection, he could see gold flecks throughout irises he’d once thought only dark brown. Thick lashes blinked, and he mimicked her action.

“I feel…strange.”

“Me too.”

They whispered to one another as if afraid someone would overhear them, but of course they were all alone in their glade.

“What was that flower?” His lips hovered over her own. He wasn’t quite touching.

“A Mare of Delight.” Her tiny puffs of air teased him. “It’s a—”

“Powerful aphrodisiac. It’s a myth,” he finished for her. He’d heard the stories. The boys always liked to toss back and forth what ifs about the legendary plant. WIthout even thinking about it, his hands slid into her hair, tugging her head back so he arched over her like a predator about to devour its prey.

“It’s not a myth.” Fingers grasped his collar and tried to tug him forward.

“It is,” he choked out, straining against her pull but not stepping away, either.

“Then why do you want to fuck me so badly right now?”

Her vulgarity shocked him almost as much as it turned him on.

“I wanted to before we even came down here.”

The moment the words left his lips, her eyes flashed and she wound her arms around his neck to yank him down to the ground with her. Draco struggled to not crush her with his weight, forearms dropping to cage her in beneath him, knee parting her thighs.

“I also have something to confess,” she drawled in a near perfect imitation of his usual unaffected veneer. She arched her hips up against his leg and he couldn’t stop himself from pressing back into her.

“And what’s that?”

The combination of her body pulling him forward and the pressure of his swollen need within the too-tight confines of his trousers had him mad with need.

“I want the same thing.” Faster than he could react, she dropped a hand between them and squeezed.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so pleased as he jerked into her grasp. “Granger…” he groaned, still holding himself back.

She wasn’t having any of that. Both hands now at work, she tugged open his trousers and slipped one in to palm him skin to skin.

“Oh, fuck, I’m going to, shit Granger—” With a shout, he came, the wetness of his cum covering her hand and his own clothing. The relief was immediate, radiating outwards to his limbs and giving him a brief moment of lightheadedness.

She squeezed once more.

Fuck.

He was still hard.

Hermione leaned forward to nibble at his ear, her fingers continuing to stroke through his spend. “My turn.”

She sat up slowly and pushed against his chest with the palm of her hand, encouraging him to fall onto his back with her hovering above him. With a wink, Hermione tucked her fingers, one set clean, the other sticky, under the waistband to tug off his bottoms. A glorious mess covered his crotch. He would’ve been embarrassed if not for the way she bent down and immediately licked up the underside of his shaft.

“You taste delicious.”

He laughed in disbelief as she proceeded to lap up every bit of evidence until he glistened with her spit, the tip of his cock oozing more precum in anticipation of more.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered. He raised a brow at her tone, but did as she asked, undoing the buttons and shrugging off the layers as she stood up to do the same.

The moon and surrounding flora only added to her light from within, the very tips of her fingers, nipples, and hair brightened by the force propelling them both towards one another. Blame the Mare of Delight. Call it fulfilled fantasies. They now followed a path that would not be deterred by anything less than a cataclysmic disaster.

He held out his hand in invitation. She took it.

Hermione straddled him, one hand positioning him at her entrance. Draco wanted to stop her, to pull her up and have her sink onto his face. She deserved nothing less than to be worshipped. He craved a taste, to drink in her essence and make her scream out his name from his tongue alone.

One warning look from her put such thoughts aside. He would sample another time, if she’d let him. He wouldn’t keep from her what she demanded in this moment; he didn’t have it in him to deny her. The barest brush of his cock against her proved he wasn’t the only one leaking from want. She was drenched in her own juices, and they liberally coated him as she made one pass, then two. She notched him in place before setting both hands atop his knees, then, with a sigh of relief, sank down to take him in fully.

Maddening heat. Pressure from all sides. A sleeve of molten liquid.

She felt like everything he’d dreamed, but nowhere near what he’d imagined.

She was more.

She was his.

Using his knees as leverage, she pulled up to the tip, then dropped down with force, grinding at the hilt and squeezing her inner muscles. They both moaned at the thrumming pleasure that held them over the edge. Only two strokes, and Draco was ready to explode.

“I’m so close,” she panted.

He couldn’t even reply, he was so focused on not finishing before her. Instead, he grabbed onto her hips and rocked into her even deeper. She nearly fell onto him in her shock, palms slapping down onto his chest to stay upright. The look she gave him begged permission, and he jerked out a single nod.

Keeping her hands on his pecs, she used him in her pursuit of her own climax. All Draco could do was hold on for dear life. She rode him with abandon, panting loudly, thighs quivering each time she slammed back down onto him.

“Un, un, un!” She’d lost her battle with words. He could feel her walls pulsing in a warning, one he took seriously.

He rotated his thumb to hover around the hood of her clit. She whined at the hint of his touch and he increased pressure to rub circles in time to her own thrusts. Hermione’s grip on his skin tightened, nails digging into the skin. Her mouth dropped open as she flung her head back.

“Ahhhh, ahh!” The moment she convulsed, he firmly grasped her hips and took over for her, lifting and bringing her back down to prolong her ecstasy. He felt his cock swell, then explode deep into her. The thought that he filled her consumed him with a rabid desire to possess.

He gripped the back of her neck to protect her as he flipped them over. She squealed at the change in position, hands flying out to grab onto the stems of the nearby plant life and hanging on as he took control. Even though he’d come twice now, he still felt painfully hard.

Keeping his hand behind her head, fingers sliding up and into her curls, he used his other hand to grasp her thigh and spread her wide. He’d probably leave bruises, but that made him mad with need, too. His cum in her, his marks on her skin.

His.

With that word echoing in his mind and need vibrating through his core straight into his cock, he drove into her repeatedly with a reckless desire to own her completely. He wanted her to ache with the feeling of him inside of her for weeks. His spend would leak past her knickers and drip down her legs and leave a trail for everyone to know that she was taken.

His heart pounded so loudly he felt deafened by his own race to completion. The closer he got, the more reluctant he felt about letting go. He desperately needed to finish. He never wanted this moment to end.

The twisted emotions must have shown on his face, because one moment he was in agony, and the next he felt fingers winding into his hair, palms cupping his face.

“Draco.”

The soft plea of his name caused him to slow. He looked up from her gorgeous bouncing tits, the nipples flushed pink, and fell into the pools of her eyes. He was drawn forward, his body pressing close, chest to chest.

“Kiss me, Draco,” she whispered.

Had they not…? Oh.

His mouth sought her own, and the moment they touched, he was lost in her, all worries falling away. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips. Upon the parting of them, she delved in and mimicked the rhythm of his hips, circling and sucking and shoving him right up against the precipice of his inevitable destruction.

Her kiss inhaled his moan as his release struck, sure and complete. He bucked with each pulse of spend coating her insides. She continued to hold him close as he groaned and rode out his pleasure until only ripples remained. With a final nip to her bottom lip, he collapsed, finally spent and all energy drained out of him and into her.

They must have fallen asleep like that, Draco’s body weighing her down, Hermione’s holding him close in acceptance, because the next thing he remembered was his eyes opening to the sensation of fingers tracing patterns on his back. They’d somehow rotated onto their sides, their arms and legs still intertwined.

“Fucking Luna,” he murmured. Runes. She was drawing runes on him. Protection. Devotion.

“I hope not,” Hermione teased in reply.

He huffed, still reluctant to move and dispel this dream they’d fallen into. “I’m yours, now, you minx. Unless that wasn’t already clear.”

Propping her head up on one hand, she looked down at him, a smile threatening to take over her expression. “Yeah?”

He found the energy to dart out a hand and tweaked her nipple.

“Hey!”

“Yours,” he affirmed.

Hermione sobered at his tone, bringing her free hand up to cover his own where it still lay close to her chest. She brought it up to drop a kiss to their knuckles. She met his gaze, eyes softening and a smile filling her features and his heart with warmth.

“And I’m yours.”

WC 2864

10/7 "Sex Pollen" prompt for 2023 @hpkinktober Fest

Cross posted on AO3

This is my first time participating in Kinktober, not surprising really since I only started writing fanfiction last December. I'm still kinda shy about writing straight smut with very little to no story, so…yeah. Here's my attempt! Sex! Plants! What more could I ask for?

#hp kinktober 2023 #dramione #dhr fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #draco malfoy #sex pollen

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