#she still doesn’t have a name but i just like calling her producer so it’s fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kteezy997 · 5 months

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can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking

Perversion//t.c.

Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking

There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.

You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.

The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.

The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.

It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.

His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.

Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.

Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.

Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.

It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.

“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”

You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.

Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.

You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.

Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.

………

Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.

He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.

You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”

“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.

His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.

You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.

You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.

“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”

He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."

“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.

Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.

You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.

"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.

The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.

"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.

You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.

"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.

You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.

As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.

"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.

You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.

Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!

You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.

He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.

"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.

Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.

He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."

You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.

"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.

You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.

His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.

Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.

You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.

He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.

You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.

"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.

"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfic

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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bailé con mi ex l (javier peña x female reader)

summary: After a night out at the club with your friends, you confess to Javier that you danced with your ex-boyfriend and he doesn’t take the news too well.

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors dni. Protective, jealous and slightly possessive Javi, he is a lil toxic, but just a smidge I promise; innocent-ish reader; angst, bits of fluff sprinkled in here and there. Not proofread for spelling, sorry!

word count 2.2k

a/n 📝 wooo, Vee finally popped her Javi cherry. testing the waters with this one, I also have a couple prompts from a while back to still write. it is based on a Becky G song, yes I know she and this song did not exist back in the day (I think? Idk what year she was born tbh) but ANYWAY I just really like the lyrics and plus it’s fiction so who cares lmao. Translations at the end ✨

Tú no me creerás, pensarás que hay algo más

es difícil de entenderlo, pero no sería capaz de enganãrte

y si te lo cuento

es porque tengo muy claro lo que siento

It was half past one o’ clock in the morning—you had told Javier you’d be home by midnight at the very latest. But a night out at one of the more popular clubs in Bogotá celebrating a close friend’s birthday meant that none of the girls were going to allow you to leave that early without giving you some kind of shit about it, so you had stayed just a little while longer and tossed back another drink or two before finally calling it a night. Your friends still gave you grief about it, but knowing Javier, he would be worried, especially since cartel violence in the region had begun to escalate over the last several months, worsening to the point where Javi didn’t even like you going out to the produce market all by yourself in broad daylight.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you pulled your keys out from your purse, fumbling around with them in the dark until you’d finally found the right one to unlock the front door of yours and Javier’s shared apartment. You slipped inside and the moment that you did, the lights flipped on, causing you to whirl around and let out a startled little yelp.

You turned to see Javier standing there, fully dressed in his jeans and a tight red button up shirt with his set of car keys clutched in hand. “Javi,” You breathed out his name as your hand flew to your chest. You shot him a glare. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me! What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed—do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Javier retorted, raising an eyebrow at you. Part of him seemed to be upset, but the other part of him seemed more relieved than anything. He tossed his keys down onto the small, hallway table and walked over to you, taking your face between his large hands as he kissed your forehead. He let his lips linger on your skin as he reminded you, “You told me you would be home by midnight, amor. You can’t tell me that and then come home almost two hours later. You know how bad things are out there right now. You could have at least called me to let me know you’d be late.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that the girls were shoving shot glass after shot glass right into my hands and time just got away from me,” You said, placing both of your hands right over his. Your eyes met his dark brown ones and you flashed him a sincere, apologetic look. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t mean to make you worry, Javi.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re home safe now. That’s all that matters to me.” Javier dropped his hands from your face and led you into the living room. “Can I get you anything, baby? Are you thirsty?”

“Actually, I’d love a glass of water,” You admitted, kicking off your black, high heeled shoes before dropping down onto the supple, brown leather couch. You watched him as he padded over into the kitchen. “I didn’t get as drunk as I thought I would, you know.” You added jokingly, “I think my tolerance for tequila is through the roof now.”

Javi laughed as he pulled a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets; he then filled it with water from the jug he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “But you still had fun, right?”

“God, I had so much fun,” You told him with a grin. “I danced all night, Javi.”

“With who?” He’d asked the question casually, but you could detect the seriousness behind it.

Your smile faded slightly.

At first, you hadn’t planned to tell him. But Javier was the love of your life, and you would never dare to keep any kind of secret from him.

Still, you knew he wouldn’t be all too happy with what you were about to confess.

Javier walked back over to you, handing you the glass of water. He frowned, noticing the hesitant expression on your face. “What is it?” He placed his hands on his hips, peering at you curiously. “You didn’t dance with any guys, did you?”

“Just one,” You admitted, softly.

Javier froze a moment, his shoulders going rigid.

“What?” Through gritted teeth, he demanded to know, “Who?”

The moment your ex boyfriend’s name fell from your lips, the color drained from Javier’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Setting the glass down on the table beside the couch, you quickly jumped up and held up your hands in defense. “Wait a minute, before you get mad about it, just let me explain—”

“What the hell is there to explain?” Javier nearly growled at you. “That you went to some nightclub and danced with another man? One who happens to be your fucking ex-boyfriend? Es en serio?”

You went up to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Javi, please. Just wait one second—”

He snatched his arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

Your heart sank and you backed away. “Really? You’re not even going to let me explain myself?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Javier replied coolly. His eyes flickered up and down, giving you a quick once over from head to toe. “I would have never thought that you would be such a—”

Javier stopped himself, knowing all too damn well that he was far too angry to think clearly before letting anything come out of his mouth.

But it was too late.

He could see the hurt that flashed in your eyes.

“Such a what?” You crossed your arms over your chest, the blood in your veins running frigid. You then raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “Such a whore?”

“I didn’t say fucking that,” he muttered, averting your gaze.

Blinking back the tears that burned your eyes, you roughly shoved past him and went straight into the bathroom. Trembling, you began looking for a clean washcloth so that you could start taking off your makeup.

The sound of the front door slamming violently just a minute or two later caused you to wince.

Certain that Javier was gone, you sank down onto the cold white tile and began to sob.

A couple of hours later into the early morning, you were sitting on your bed in nothing but one of Javier’s shirts.

You had cried and cried, releasing your emotions until your eyes had gone dry.

You’d hoped Javier would come right back home and talk things out with you, but by the time four o’ clock rolled around, you had given up on that hope. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you were just about to reach out and switch off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed when you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing.

You swallowed harshly as the sound of his footsteps approaching drew closer and closer.

Javier walked into the bedroom, looking surprised to see you sitting there, still awake at this hour. He spoke in a cold tone that let you know he was still upset with you. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

Even from where he stood, you could smell the heavy stench of cigarettes and scotch all over him.

“I was waiting up for you,” You murmured, quietly.

Javier kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and let out a long sigh. He said nothing else to you as he kicked off his tan boots and began shrugging out of his shirt, tossing it aside.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your small voice breaking through the silence.

“I needed a drink,” he responded curtly with his back to you.

“We have drinks here, you know.”

“Yeah, well I needed something a lot stronger than what we’ve got.”

Finally, Javier had no choice but to turn around and face you.

The second he did, a fresh tear slipped down the side of your face.

Javier’s stomach sank deeply and the expression on his face immediately softened.

“Bebe—”

You lifted both your hands to your mouth, muffling a broken sob.

“Hell, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bed. He reached for your wrists, gently tugging them away from your face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset at you, alright?”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you think that I’m a—?” You’d said the word once, but couldn’t find it in yourself to utter it again.

“Of course I don’t, mi vida. I was just angry, I wasn’t even thinking.” He paused, noticing the way you were trembling and reached up to cradle the side of your face in his palm. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Wouldn’t you be angry at me if I came home from a late night at the club and told you I had danced with one of my exes?”

“Probably,” You admitted, feeling the envy boil in your lower belly as you thought about him holding another woman in his arms. “But I would have at least given you the chance to explain yourself. I mean, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, Javi?”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut.

He’d fucked up.

“Well?” You prompted him. “Answer me, Javier. Have I ever done anything to make you think that you can’t trust me?”

“No.” His hand dropped from your face. He spoke again, guilt lacing his tone. “You’ve never given me one single reason not to trust you.”

You let out a small, shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “He was at the club with his friends tonight,” You began to explain to him. You noticed the way Javier stiffened slightly; although you knew he didn’t want to hear about how you had danced with your ex-boyfriend, you decided to continue on anyway. He needed to know. “He came up to me and he said hello. We had a drink together and then he asked me to dance with him.” Unable to help yourself, you let out a small breathy chuckle. “We danced to quite a few songs, actually. It was just like old times.”

Javier’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Before he could say anything, you lifted one of your own hands to stop him. “He was a great guy, Javier. We had a good relationship, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be. When we broke up, it was amicable and we wished each other best and now, a couple years later, we both have the best. He’s with someone he loves and I’m with someone that I love too.” You offered him a tiny, watery smile. “I don’t have eyes or space in my heart for anyone else but you, Javier. Seeing him again and dancing with him tonight made me realize that I would never even dare to think about jeopardizing our relationship. I love you more than anything, and I would never do anything to betray you.”

He stared at you, mouth agape.

Oh, he’d definitely fucked up.

Before meeting you, Javier had never been the kind of man to do relationships—because he’d never known how to do relationships.

Before you’d walked into his life, all Javier knew was meaningless sex with escorts and informants, one night stands with coworkers—regardless of who he fucked, he had always been able to walk away the following morning without any sort of attachment. It’s what he wanted, or at least, it’s what he’d thought he wanted.

And then Javier met you.

You weren’t the type of woman who he’d normally set his sights on. You didn’t walk around almost naked like half the women in Colombia, you didn’t smoke, you rarely ever even cursed and only drank when your friends pressured you into it—you had this kind of sweet innocence written all over you, and normally Javier would never look twice at a woman like you because a woman like you looked for a boyfriend; not a fuck buddy and certainly not a one night stand.

Javier Peña had never been boyfriend material.

He didn’t know how to be in a relationship.

At least not a healthy one.

Even now, he struggled to be the partner that you deserved. He met your physical needs without a single problem, but your emotional needs were something of a challenge for him. Still, Javi loved you with every fiber of his entire being and he was more than willing to keep on trying to be the man you needed him to be in every way possible.

“I’m sorry,” Javier murmured again after a while. He reached out, placing his hand on your bare thigh. “I am so sorry, baby. Perdoname, preciosa. Please.”

You placed your hand on top of his, giving him another little smile. “Of course I forgive you, Javi.”

Relieved, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. As he began to deepen the kiss, his hands reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt were wearing.

“Javi, it’s four in the morning,” You giggled against his lips.

Javier chuckled. He pushed you back against the pillows and swung his leg over to climb on top of you. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

“True,” You grinned up at him before pulling him down towards you for another kiss.

;Translations

lyrics:

You might not believe me, you’ll think there’s something more

it’s difficult to understand, but I could never betray you

if I’m telling you this, it’s because I know exactly how I feel

fic:

amor - love

es en serio? - are you serious?

bebe - baby

mi vida - my life

perdoname, preciosa - forgive me, precious girl

#javier peña #javier pena #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier pena angst #pedro pascal characters #javier pena one shot #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic

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cas-skz · 1 year

Text

Our Girl

Bangchan x Fem!Reader

| non idol au | single parents au | ex to lovers |

18+!!! PLEASE&THANK YOU. MDNI!!

Chan has your five year old daughter Emma for the weekend, but during a vicious hurricane you realize she forgot her stuffie and head out to deliver it. When a tree blocks the road, you’re forced to stay the night…or two.

warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex, cum shot. little cursing

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :]

writers note: yea hello hi my friends. jac used my full real name and “my fucking heart you bitch” when she read this so I hope you feel the same. And yes I named their kid emma so I could scream it like on H2O

enjoy! cas xx

The sounds of children's laughter filled the playground. Your eyes followed Emma as she ran around, making friends with the other kids and joining them in games. She got her social skills from her father, that was for sure.

Emma was born just after you graduated from college. Her dad, Chan, had just started his career as a music producer and you had signed as a junior designer for a fashion line. Life got busy, between both your jobs and raising a baby, you and Chan eventually drifted from each other.

One thing you appreciated about Chan was how much he cared. He checks in daily and gets her anything she needs. Even though he doesn’t have much free time, when he has the chance, he always spends it with her.

“Daddy!” Emma’s voice screamed out from the crowd of kids, her curly locks flying behind her as she ran towards Chan.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them embracing. Chan lifting her in the air and hugging her tightly, kissing her cheeks until she told him to stop. You wished you could stay in these moments, where everything felt okay.

It had been a couple weeks since you’d seen Chan in person. He would video call every night to read Emma a story, taking a bit of time to chat with her about their days. It reminded you of the nightly calls you shared with him years ago.

After a few moments with Emma, he joined you on the bench. “When will she stop growing?”

“In like 10-15 years.” You groan with a laugh, leaning back on the bench and turning slightly to Chan. He looked tired, but he was much more toned than you remembered.

“We’re gonna be so old.” Chan said dramatically.

You nudged his arm, “we’re already old.”

He whined a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess we are. You’re still older though.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, looking back towards the playground. “So, what do you have planned tonight?”

It was the first time in a long time that Chan was able to take Emma for the weekend. She was head over heels excited.

“Homemade pizzas, cupcakes for dessert,”

You interrupted, “Chocolate?”

“Of course, she’d flip if not.” Chan laughed, “I also got a couple of those bracelet making kits, since she’s been going on about them” he went on for a few minutes about all the different things he had planned.

You couldn’t help but smile, hearing how excited he was made your heart happy.

He stopped and looked at you, a bright red creeping onto his ears. “What?”

“Thank you.” You said after a long moment, your eyes fell to the ground before back to Emma. “You’re a really great dad, and she’s lucky to have you. We’re really lucky.”

You spent the next little while chatting, catching up on life before Emma came running over to you both, “I’m hungry!” She whined in a dramatic voice.

The three of you went to a nearby pizza place as storm clouds started to roll in. You quickly got to your cars, giving Chan her overnight bag and you said your goodbyes. “You call mommy if you need anything, okay? I hope you have so much fun with Daddy.”

The storm started a few hours later. Chan confirmed they had gotten back to his place and you decided to relax for the night - or at least try to. The movie was almost over when the power went out and you sighed softly before moving to your bed.

You had just sat down when you felt a soft bump under the blanket, pulling it out to see Emma’s stuffed rabbit. She slept with it every night and you knew she’d have trouble without it.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your keys and headed to your car, trying to reach Chan as you drove through the storm.

It took you twice as long to get to his place, and the phone lines had stopped working by the time you pulled in. Candles flickered through the windows and you made the dash to his front door.

“What the fuck?! Are you actually crazy?” Chan said as he pulled you in the house. You were soaking wet just from the few seconds in the rain. You unzipped your jacket and pulled her bunny from under your shirt. “She forgot, Mr. Hopper.”

“Daddy, you’re not supposed to say Fuck.” Emma said coming into the entry way in a tutu and gently taking the plushie from your hand. “Thank you for keeping him dry, and bringing him. He was scared.” She turned in a circle and walked back into the living room.

You smiled softly and turned to leave, but Chan held the door closed. “I’m not letting you drive again.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I got here perfectly fine, didn’t I?”

As if the weather gods were on his side, a loud snap came from across the street.

“Timber!” Emma yelled from the living room.

Chan moved to look out the window next to the door, “Looks like you’re stuck.”

You groaned quietly as you peered outside, noticing a tree fallen down across the road.

It took you a while to settle down. It was weird being in his home, feeling his energy after so long. After a couple glasses of wine, you finally relaxed into the couch a bit.

You laid on your side, flashlight on the bracelet making that was happening on the floor. You smiled as you watched Emma pick out different beads and carefully string them together, but your eyes kept drifting to Chan.

You didn’t remember the last time you saw him so happy. It looked good on him.

His eyes flashed up to catch yours for a second before you quickly moved them back to Emma. A lump in your throat started to grow. You tried to drown it with the wine.

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl. I love you so so much.” You kissed Emma’s forehead a few times before sending her upstairs with Chan.

The tension in the air finally lifted a bit, and you took the opportunity to look around his place. It was nicely decorated, with different paintings and albums on the walls. You walked slowly through the halls until you found his studio.

Your fingers ran slowly along the shelves of his music collection, pulling out a few to admire the cover work. A baby picture of Emma caught your eye, and you slowly walked over to Chan’s desk.

You smiled to yourself, starting to gaze over the other pictures he had out. They were mostly of Emma, no surprise. Though, a small frame with two pictures, sitting directly in the middle of his desk, caught your eye.

A wave of emotions started to hit as you looked at the photos. One was of you, laying in bed sleeping and another was of the two of you when you first met.

Tears started to fall from your eyes, you slowly set the picture back in its place. You turn to leave the room. You stop in your tracks, gasping, seeing Chan standing in the doorway, a glass of dark liquor in hand.

“Sorry.” You start, your eyes focusing on the glass before falling to the ground. He hated drinking. “I was just having a look around. The place is really nice.”

He smiled softly, “thanks.”

He shot back the rest of the liquor, walking over grab the picture you had put down. “This was the morning we found out about Emma.”

You turned your back to him as he leaned against the desk, his eyes following you as you avoided his gaze. The room felt heavy with tension again as it fell silent for a long moment, wind and rain hitting the windows the only sound filling the room.

You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how much you wanted your little family back together. He was your best friend and feeling so drifted apart from him broke your heart.

“The guest room is made up, I threw some clothes for you in change in.”

“Thank you.” You turned to look at him, a few more tears falling. “I’m gonna head up.” You forced a smile and turned to leave.

Chan’s hand caught your wrist before you could make it out, his grip gently against your skin. You turned, looking at him through watery eyes.

Your body unconsciously took a step towards him, and his arms wrapped tightly around your head and shoulders, pulling you into a hug.

It caught you off guard at first. The warmth of his body, his familiar scent. It made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

You finally wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest.

When Chan finally pulled back, he quickly wiped his face and sniffed. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Sleeping was nearly impossible, the noise outside was horrid. The tears hadn’t managed to stop falling and everything was cold since the power was still out.

You had just closed your eyes again when Emma’s soft voice woke you. “What’s wrong baby?”

She clung to Mr. Hopper, “I had a bad dream and now the storm is scary. Can you come sleep with me and Daddy?”

It was only then you noticed Chan in the doorway, half asleep, hair a mess.

You sat up in bed a bit, tucking a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. “I don’t know if daddy would like that sweetie. Why don’t you go with him, he’ll keep you safe.”

“But I want you both.”

Chan insisted it was okay and you let Emma guide you towards his bedroom. You both took a side and let her in the middle.

Emma yawned, snuggling into Chan’s arm while holding onto yours. “Night night mommy and daddy.” She said sleepily.

You kept your eyes on her as she fell asleep, but could feel his gaze on you. Your eyes move to him, meeting with his. You looked at each other for a long moment and it felt like your heart was going to explode.

You smiled softly and let your eyes close.

The quiet sound of chatting woke you up. Emma was sitting up on the bed, babbling away with Chan.

You stretched out groaning, turning on your side to cuddle into Emma.

“Mommy! We’re gonna build a fort, do you wanna help?!”

You happily agreed, quickly washing up before meeting Chan and Emma downstairs. Emma was dragging all the blankets and sheets from the linen closet, and Chan was in the kitchen raiding his pantry.

“Do you need any help?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen.

Chan sighed quietly, turning around with a few random boxes in hand. “I didn’t realize how hard it was to make breakfast without power.”

You grabbed a box of crackers from his hand, peaking into the pantry to check what else he had. “Can you cut up a banana and apple, please?” You ask, setting out some peanut butter, Nutella and granola

He rose an eyebrow at the items you pulled out before grabbing a knife and starting to cut the fruits.

You quickly spread PB on some of the crackers and Nutella on the others. Sprinkled some granola and started to grab the pieces of fruit Chan had cut, placing them on top.

“How did you come up with that so fast?” He asked, lifting Emma into his arms as she came running into the kitchen.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of the makeshift breakfast, “Snacky Crackers for breakfast?” She asked excitedly, reaching over to grab one.

“Special occasions only, and I guess the power being out can count as one.” You laughed, starting to munch. “Emma was the one who came up with it. I wasn’t feeling good one night and she brought me these.”

“I’m kind of a genius cooking person.” Emma said confidently.

“A chef.” You and Chan said at the same time.

After finishing eating, the three of you headed to the living room to build the fort, which ended up taking over the whole living room. You told stories, played board games and found different ways to pass the time.

The power was still out when the evening came, and the tree was still blocking the road out. You had no choice but to spend another night.

You’re not sure what time it was when you woke up from a nightmare, gasping for air and tears falling. They didn’t happen as much as they used to, but the effect always left you anxious and restless for a while.

You pushed out of bed after a few minutes and started pacing up and down the hall. You sang ‘you are my sunshine’ quietly. When you turned to walk the other way, Chan has stepped into the hall.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just having trouble getting back to sleep.”

“Nightmare?” He asked.

You bit your lip gently and nodded, sighing quietly as you started to walk towards the guest bedroom. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Y/N…” Chan said quietly, “Come sleep with me.” He extended his hand to you.

He knew you’d never get back to sleep alone.

You took his hand and let him guide you, crawling into the bed from his side. You flipped on your side to face him as he settled back into bed.

“Come here.” Chan said, sinking down into the bed with one arm opened, making a little spot for you.

You slid up and tucked yourself under his arm, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand his bare chest. Your body calmed almost immediately.

“You didn’t have to do this for me.” You said quietly, your fingers moving slowly across his skin.

“But it helped, didn’t it.”

“It did.” You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.” You moved your self up a bit, placing a gently kiss on his cheek.

Your lips barely left his cheek when he turned his head to catch you, pressing his lips deeply into yours.

Your hand slid up to his neck as you kissed back, a soft moan escaping your lips in between the tender kisses.

His hand rested gently on your hip as the two of you made out.

Chan slowly moved on top of you, his lips moving to your neck, sucking gently on your sweet spot.

“We shouldn’t…” You said quietly. Your body was starting to cave into him.

Honestly, it was driving you a little crazy how bad you did want him. You hadn’t stopped wanting him.

“I know.” Chan said, his breath hot in your ear. “I just miss you so much.”

You lifted his head back to yours, kissing him again as a tear fell from your eye. “I miss you too, Channie.”

The last time you hooked up with him after the breakup was at Emma’s birthday party, almost a full year ago. You hadn’t been with anyone else since him. He was the one.

“You know it’s always been you.” Chan kissed your lips again, “it will always be you.”

You pulled his lips to yours, smiling into your kisses. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, and as if it was some sort of sign, the power came back on.

From down the hall, Emma screamed awake. You and Chan both rolled out of bed instantly, going to her room to see her sitting up in bed, giggling to herself.

“People are scared of the dark, but the lights scared me!”

You shook your head laughing, sending Chan in to help her back to sleep as you went downstairs to turn off things that had been on before the power outage.

Chan was just leaving Emma’s room as you reached the top of the stairs, “She fell back asleep really fast.” He chuckled, his eyes on you as you walked towards him.

When you were almost to him, you slid your panties off from under the oversized shirt you were wearing, tossing them aside before l finishing your walk.

Your hand slid slowly up his chest, “Is daddy going to help me go to sleep too?”

His hand gripped the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a kiss, his other arm swooping down to pick you up from under your leg.

Chan carried you to the bed, you stopped to remind him to lock the door. Emma had almost walked in on your two at her birthday party, thankfully you had just finished.

He lifted you onto the bed, kicking off his pj pants before climbing on the bed, hovering above you. “You know, this is the first time since Emma was born that we’ve had sex twice in under a year.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his arm gently as he leaned down to kiss you. “Should we keep count for the next few months til her birthday?” Chan said, his lips moving to your neck.

“You think you can keep track?” You giggle, reaching down to stroke his cock. He moved up a bit, his hand replacing yours as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly thrusting in.

You gasped a moan as your head fell back, your wet walls expanding from his thick cock. His lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking gently at your skin.

Chan’s hand ran gently on your outer thigh, lifting your leg a bit as he continued to thrust slowly, filling your body with chills and goosebumps.

You cursed quietly as your peak already started to approach, you pulled Chan’s lips back to yours, giving him a deep kiss as your walls started to contract, your wetness dampening the spot underneath you.

His lips moved softly against yours, only lifting the tiniest bit when a few moans and curses left his mouth.

Your body shook gently as he pulled out, the feeling on his warm cum spraying up your torso.

You ran your hands though his hair as you kissed him for a few minutes, unable to stop smiling.

“And I think that’s the fastest we’ve made each other cum.” Chan said smirking.

You covered your face with both hands, laughing into them. “Do you keep track of our whole sex life?”

“Not hard to do when my girl fucks so good every time.” He said, nuzzling his nose between your hands to kiss your lips.

The sun had just started to come up when you and Chan went for a shower. Knowing Emma would be up soon, sleep was going to have to wait.

Sitting on the counter, you happily sipped on a cup of coffee as Chan cooked breakfast, bacon and eggs.

He turned to you while it started to cook, his hands running up your tights as he kissed your lips softly.

“Are you kissing?!” Emma yelled from the entryway, running over to the two of you, hugging Chan’s leg as she looked up at you both with eager eyes.

Chan lifted her onto the counter next to you, placing a kiss on her forehead, “And what if we were?” He asked with a laugh.

Emma made a long thinking sound, “Gross, but only because kissing boys seems icky.”

“How would you know?” You asked

“Rylan kissed me like 500 weeks ago, it was gross. He smelled like farts.”

“You’re not allowed to be kissing boys.” Chan said, pointing the spatula towards her. “Not until you’re 40.”

“You’re 40, right daddy?” Emma asked.

You burst out laughing at her question, and Chan’s facial reaction.

“I’m 25!” He whined, doing a little sulky stomp.

The three of you ate in the kitchen, feeling cozy in the spots you were in. You and Chan couldn’t stop smiling at each other, even if there was still a ton of stuff to figure out.

Once done, Emma ran off to play and you started the dishes.

Your mind had trailed off as the ‘what if’s’ started to creep into your mind. The stress of figuring out how to balance your busy lives without losing each other again.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, leaning on the counter next to you, his hand tucking some hair behind your ear. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just…worried.” You say quietly, finally rinsing the dish you had zoned out washing. “I don’t want us to drift again. I don’t think I could handle it and I don’t want to think about how Emma would deal.”

You started on a word vomit ramble, about how busy life was and how you could barely keep up as is. You had started pacing at some point, hands dripping from the water.

Chan placed both his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in place as you looked at him with blurry eyes. “Quit your job.”

His words took you by surprise, you whispered the tiniest, confused. “What?”

“You have enough connections in the industry, you could easily be a freelancer until someone, someone who knows your worth and how fucking talented you are, signs you.”

It was true that work was stressing you out. You poured your heart and soul into designs, only for them to be shot down.

“I can probably work from home, since I’ve been there long enough. I want us to be a family, for real this time.”

You looked up at him, his face so sincere and confident. It made your heart fell warm, and you knew you could trust him to take care of you both.

“I want that. I want this. I want you. I want us.”

Chan smiled softly, leaning in to gently kiss you. He took your hand and guided you to his studio, “Emma, can you come here please?” He yelled.

Chan sat in his computer chair, pulling you onto his lap and when Emma came skipping in, he lifted her and sat her on his other leg.

“You remember when you told daddy what you asked Santa for?” Chan asked Emma, brushing some curls from her face.

Emma nodded, “For daddy to marry mommy.”

You blushed deeply, scrunching your nose at Emma while smiling uncontrollably. “You silly goose.”

Chan turned in the chair a bit, reaching behind the picture of you he kept in the middle. “Well,” he started, wrapping his arm around Emma and sneaking one around your waist, a small light blue box in hand.

You felt your chest go tight as tears started to well in your eyes, you leaned back a bit to look at Emma, who took the box from his hand and held it happily in hers.

“It doesn’t have to be marriage, but I think it’s time you got this.”

Emma opened the box, a stunning pear shaped Tiffany ring. Chan took it out, holding it up.

“I’m in it forever.” He said looking into your eyes.

You let the tears fall, kissing his lips before holding your ring finger up. He slid the ring on, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Forever.” You whispered against his lips.

Emma jumped off his lap, doing a silly celebration dance and cheer. “You’re married!” She yelled, taking off running into the house. “Marrrrrrried.”

“Cute officiant, where’d you find her?” You laughed.

“My wife, and it’s the best gift she’s ever given me.”

You kissed his lips again, running your hand through his hair. “Is my lovely husband going to help me move?”

“We got married like two seconds ago, and you’ve already got a job for me?” He asked dramatically, his smile gave away that he was joking.

“Just wait til you see the plant watering schedule.” You giggled.

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lotus222 · 11 months

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I have a theory…

Everyone is up and arms about the elriel v. gwynriel debate so if you get easily triggered about those ships pls avert your eyes cause I’m gonna be unapologetically brutal.

I just finished reading CC2 (ik I’m behind) and it opened my eyes to something SJM has been saying since the beginning.

Now, while reading this massive book, I had a continuing foreboding feeling that Hunt was going to be replaced by Ithan as Bryce’s love interest. Bc as we know SJM always switches up the MMC after one book or so, so I was scurred. BUT

I was pleasantly surprised to see that SJM did all in her power to reinforce the idea that these two are endgame, by having Bryce CHOOSE Hunt and vice versa — going against her arranged marriage, the royal lineage requirements, and the added complexity of mates for fae, angels, and wolves

It was refreshing to see Bryce and Hunt come together out of true love as opposed to SJM’s usual trope of “oh they were destined so they have to be together”. Don’t get me wrong, I love her other couples too - but Bryce and Hunt have always been my favs bc of this fact.

Then, imagine my surprise when I see that Bryce and Hunt CHOOSE to be mates. Simply bc the title bf & gf didn’t work for them. THEN, they’re revealed to be true mates, and their love for one another simply forged this unbreakable bond where now they have the same strength (if not stronger) then preordained mates.

Here’s where the ACOTAR ships come in…

Now…i don’t care who mrs Maas decides to put together. I have loved every single couple she has produced so ik I’ll love the next inner circle couple. BUT ik in my heart of hearts and based off of common sense that it’s going to be Elain + Azriel

(Also pls keep in mind that the ACOTAR fae are the ancestors of the CC fae, which means whatever Bryce and Hunt can feel/do/etc, first originated or was discovered in the ACOTAR world) which means this true mates thing that Bryce and Hunt have can have originated with Az & Elain

CC3 takes place after ACOSF, where we all know there are things needing to be addressed. Bryce wakes up on the lawn of the townhouse where Az is and there’s fresh bread & roses in the air…then everyone else arrives later. Meaning Az was at the townhouse by himself…with the bread & roses (Elain).

Some of y’all might think that’s a stretch or irrelevant, but I think it’s fully intentional that SJM put CC3 before the next ACOTAR book. It’s bc everyone in the ACOTAR world up until this point has followed the rules of “be with your mate and love them”, but now Bryce is there as a clear example of having a mate not chosen by some stupid bowl, but by herself and her heart. Which is something I think will strike a chord with Elain and Azriel.

Az has NEVER been chosen, and I don’t think (even if gwyn is his mate or his backup singer or whatever y’all are calling her now) he will be satisfied by someone being thrown to him, forced to love him bc of a bond. He wants them to choose to love him like his dad and Mor didn’t (sry Mor stans but she didn’t, she admitted so herself in ACOWAR)

Rhys (sry cause I also dislike him after ACOSF) is just like Bryce’s bio dad and is trying to place a barrier between the couple in the name of politics and what is usually done, but just like Bryce (I.E. WHY THERE IS A BONUS CHAPTER W HER, AZ, AND NES (THE ONLY 2 (-Rhys) WHO WILL KNOW ABOUT AZ’s FEELINGS)) Az/Elain will choose to divert that standard, motivated by the love Bryce expresses for her chosen mate, Hunt.

Plus, can I mention y’all also acted this way with Cass met Emery at the end of ACOFAS…and thought they were gonna be together before ACOSF came out and now y’all are doing the same to Gwyn. I personally think Gwyn has been traumatized beyond belief by men, and I don’t think what she needs in her life to heal from that is the man that saved her from that trauma. She doesn’t need to be saved or reminded of that time in her life anymore. Like, girl could still not bring herself to leave the house of wind at the end of ACOSF. Idk about y’all but I wouldn’t fall in love with the cop who saved me from that kind of crime, I’d move on and find love for myself.

No matter if you’re a gwynriel stan or not, we can all agree that the kiss at the end of ACOSF cannot be ignored, and this relationship between Az and Elain has been building up for THREE BOOKS. Gwyn has only been here for one. Take it from me my lovely gwynriels, and be prepared for disappointment.

NOW, where does Lucien fit in all of this? I think Lucien takes the same stance as Ithan from CC. Elain doesn’t know the sassy, caring Lucien we know bc the only interactions she’s had with him were when he sold her out to Hybern (mind you: when she was ENGAGED) and when he’s been around her bc he felt this need due to a mating bond. It’s fair that she doesn’t love him, just like it’s fair that Bryce doesn’t love Ithan. Just because there’s a bond, in whatever form, doesn’t mean that entitles another to that female’s love.

Lucien deserves someone who wants to be with him and as a fan of his character, too, I don’t want him stuck with Elain. Especially when she’s made it so clear she doesn’t want him. I think Lucien accepting Elain going with Azriel will lead him back to the Spring Court (cause it’ll still hurt, and he’ll need space) and give y’all that Tamlin redemption arc you’ve been dying for for some reason.

Either way, the answer of who is Az’s mate is a big topic, so I think SJM doing the same thing with him that she did with Bryce and Hunt in CC2 would be so bomb. Plus, she’s always said that the books she writes will be with the female at the forefront, so sry babes, there’s no Azriel book.

So book 5/6 (incl ACOFAS) in the ACOTAR world will be Elriel, then it’ll be Morr/all of the couples, and the novella will probably be Spring Court (i.e., Vaasa/Tamlin/Lucien). Don’t quote me on anything past the next ACOTAR book, I’m just guessing on those

Anyway, that’s how I think it’s going to go but I’m not the author or anything, so take this as you will

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annaholak · 2 years

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Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

#I had fun with these #wish me luck with inktober #usually all hell breaks loose whenever I start a drawing challenge #discworld #fanart #gnu terry pratchett #witches #inktober2022

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lottiecrabie · 2 months

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you know how lorde brought jack out at one of her shows and he played the guitar while she sang and they were very touchy feely and just gazing at each other the entire time? imagine a blurb like that on gto readers tour when her and matty are just friends now but there is still definitely underlying tension the entire time

i Know where this blurb idea came from I see you🫵

the screams rain over you, a torrential wave of love that you can’t help grinning at. you sit there, legs hanging off the stage, gripping your mic in silent awe. the world ripples in front of you, bodies of people — real, tangible, knowledgeable of your lyrics better than you sometimes — face you. the room seems larger, like entire cities could fit between these walls, like everyone you’ve ever known could be smiling back at you.

you use the energy like fuel. pretend your heart isn’t racing up your throat as you tilt up the mic. ‘i have a surprise for you guys,’ you say, teasing, confessional. another wave of screams, delighted in just being special. you laugh. ‘there’s a really special person here tonight. the producer of this album, my dear friend—‘ you barely need to let the name out, high-pitched cries already drowning it out, but still; ‘matty healy!’

he comes from backstage and he cracks the world open. stagelight transforms in soft sun rays, shining over your head until sweat pearls your forehead. strawberry ice cream lingers on your tongue. the faint smell of cigarette comes through, burning in the heat. he’s summer, even in the thick of this december month. you have to blink away, blind.

there’s a part of you way that will always be in august, and it throbs when he’s around you.

matty sits down beside you, offered a guitar by some worker. he waves to the crowd, working his charm easily. you have no sun to blame this flush on. you hope the stage makeup hides it, stop yourself from pressing the cold microphone to your cheeks and draw attention to it.

‘hello,’ you say. ‘not too tired?’

‘never,’ he answers, though it’s lost to the ears of the crowd, micless that he is.

‘i warmed the crowd up for you.’

‘you’re—‘ you aim the mic his way, graciously allowing the public into this moment, ‘—too sweet.’ you want to laugh. your chest tightens, in the habitual ways it still hasn’t learned not to.

something in you is angry that he’d dare say it here, in front of anyone, in front of everyone. not because he’s sharing anything personal, anything momental; because he’s not. to him, too sweet is any other phrase, and you’re left reeling from the slap he doesn’t know he gave.

‘we made pygmalion two summers ago, in this very city,’ you say conversationally, addressing the crowd. ‘i lived here for four months and so, forever, london will be the intrinsic pygmalion city. i don’t think i can walk any street without being washed with it.’

‘i live here and there’s still places i can’t visit without being reminded of pygmalion,’ matty says in the cadence of a joke. you chuckle for him, ever gracious.

‘there’s still wines i can’t drink,’ you attempt to volley back, but it starts feeling a little too raw, a little too real. you get the uncomfortable impression of being under a microscope, and you clutch the microphone with the need to swallow it all back.

matty steals the mic from your hands, eyes wrinkling with mirth. ‘this one used to say she didn’t like red wine.’

you roll your eyes, taking it back. ‘yes, well, i just—‘

again, matty’s fingers brush yours, angling the mic back to him. ‘—never drank the correct sort, yes, i told you so.’

‘stop taking my mic!’ you laugh, giving a look to the public as you gesture to him. ‘it’s a wonder we finished any song with all of this.’ you sit up straighter, attempting to put the show back on track. ‘and yet we did. you might know this one, it’s called galatea.’

again, a new wave of excited screams wash you. galatea is always a highlight of the night. the broken lyrics that come back to you, sung and cried, tears filling the eyes of the first row until you have to look away. this time, you don’t even attempt to watch them, instead turning to face matty, crossed-legged.

his fingers strum the chords familiarly; you croon the first words. you get projected on a sofa, red lights drenching the two of you, the stars shining just for you. he’s so known you might choke up. you have moved on, you promise yourself you have, but what can you do with all the knowledge you gain of someone? where do the memories go when you’ve stopped needing to play them back every night just to fall asleep. they can’t cease to exist, yet they can’t fit in the palms of your hands either.

his eyebrows tilt as he concentrates, bobbing his head. a curl strikes his forehead and you stop yourself from reaching up and brushing it away. parts of you wake up, called to attention. the need to wish and hope and yearn; to exist in the possible, nearly-not but just enough that it’s exquisitely painful. you think of new lyrics, you hate yourself for it.

the chorus cries out of you. you scoot closer, sing it to him. you’re back in a booth, angry eyes pinning him down vengefully. matty glances up and there must be something in you that has quietened, that has folded over and surrendered. he doesn’t look away from your stare. he doesn’t get overwhelmed with the weight of it.

your hand flies to his knee, as if to make sure he’s real. he is; flesh and muscle and that stubborn heart of his, beating somewhere far away from you.

for all the sun he represents, he doesn’t burn anymore. it’s a soft sting, like another memory buzzing in you. your fingers retreat. mournfully, you sing the next lyric.

you whisper the last words out, smiling faintly. his fingers halt. he stops suddenly; he’s there and then he’s not, per usual. the cries roar back to you. for all the worlds that exist in this very room, they always seem to cease when he’s beside you. a summery cocoon you craft out of nothings, one that’s off somewhere in a london apartment.

you turn back to the crowd, remind yourself of everything that is real too. ‘thank you,’ you whisper to them, a hand to your chest, vaguely bowing. thank you for being there when the ground doesn’t seem to hold you up anymore. you look at him. and then, a grin, waving an arm to him. ‘matty healy, everyone!’

#this is Barely flirty and mostly just rly angsty Sorry😭#angst #blurb #galatea take one #ask #matty healy x reader

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faerlygraceful · 2 months

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So I rewatched all of the “Begins” episodes last night and it only managed to cement my head canons about Tommy, which began forming after we saw him again.

Of course I don’t know if they thought this was going to be where the character ended up when they filled the firehouse back in season 2. I don’t know what Lou thought about his character. I don’t know what the intentions were. What I am doing (since this is my head canon), is taking new knowledge and using it to recategorize previous interactions. I’m queer, it’s what we all do.

So I’m going to share my analysis with all of y’all cause this is the internet, and I’m allowed.

Spoilers for… well everything.

Tommy is one of the three characters who shows up in all three Begins episodes, the other two being Athena and Sal DeLuca. His first appearance in the show is Hen Begins, but as we know Chimney Begins is chronologically first, so we’re starting there.

Chimney Begins

1) We first see Tommy when probie Howie walks in. He doesn’t seem to notice that Howie is a probie, asking who didn’t tip the takeout guy. Gerrard quickly takes the role of antagonist, and that’s when we move on.

2) At one point when they’re coming back from a call after Howie has been there a while, Tommy says, in a surprised tone, “You’re still here?” I think this is less of a, “You don’t belong here,” and more of a, “You’ve been here for weeks/months and haven’t been out once, I would have quit, why haven’t you?”

3) While man behind, Howie helps a guy who was having indigestion and a panic attack at the same time. When the rest get back, Howie tries to bond with them over the call, but is ignored. They are talking about takeout options and Gerrard asks Tommy, when his girlfriend is supposed to come in and cook. Tommy sounds extremely contained during this interaction, gives a a day, and when pressed he stammers and promises. The conversation fades off so we don’t hear what he promises, but he didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about his girlfriend coming in.

- Now this is where we really start getting into my hcs. Either Tommy is bi (which we’ll hopefully find out tomorrow) or he’s closeted. The tightness in his voice (which is all we have to go on because the camera is focused on the POV character), tells me that he’s extremely uncomfortable with the interaction. He’s been put on the spot, and he doesn’t like it. I think the girlfriend is either a) a friend he’s brought by the house once and everyone inferred or b) someone he manufactured in order to get out of team events ie, “Oh I can’t go out tonight, my girl is cooking.” He is uncomfortable with what his boss (a confirmed bigot) is asking for, and the man is pressuring him to produce his beard. If she was actually his girlfriend and Tommy is also bisexual, it could just be that’s he’s uncomfortable exposing her to the environment that the 118 is at that point.

4) Howie starts to try and broach the barriers between himself and the other firefighters, only to be rebuked. At one point he corners Tommy in the locker room, and starts naming off all these topics, stating, “Tell me what your thing is and I’ll make it mine.” Talking about his formidable people skills and asking if that means Tommy just didn’t like him that much.

Tommy tells him, “If I thought about you at all, I probably wouldn’t.” Which tells me that Tommy has already built his mask, his persona, and since the others don’t try to look beyond the surface he’s able to maintain it, but he can’t afford to let anyone in. He can’t think about the new guy on the squad, he’s too busy making sure Gerrard doesn’t find out about his closet. That would be just another person to have to hide from anyway.

This is when Howie gets pulled for the ambulance. Eli tells him that it’s not personal, because friends die and funerals are held. Which makes me also think that Howie stepped into the shoes of a firefighter who died. Maybe one who Tommy was particularly close to? Eli goes on to call Howie a puppy who doesn’t get a name until they know it’s gonna come through.

The next thing that happens is Kevin Lee’s death. Which is incredibly sad and is a big part of how Howie develops as a firefighter, but this meta is Tommy focused so moving on.

5) The garage collapse at the mall, and Tommy almost dies. More to it, Howie saved him. So Tommy decides to share some things with Howie. “Love Actually, monster trucks, and craft beer”. Maybe not a coming out story, but he did declare that one of his favorite movies is a rom com. It’s a start.

Hen Begins

1) Tommy is first seen when Hen walks into the house. He’s comes up to the railing after Gerrard calls for everyone and is positioned between the captain and DeLuca. Now it’s my personal opinion that DeLuca is an ass and that’s backed up by these episodes but even Hen defends him in Bobby Begins Again, and that started with this episode. But again, we’re not here to get into Sal DeLuca’s headspace, this is about Tommy. When Gerrard calls Hen an “diversity” hire, we see Tommy looking very uncomfortable, and Sal is the one to take up some of Captain’s dirty work for him (“For real?”). This is the episode where I truly see Tommy as “falling in line” with the captain. He’s opened up a little to Howie (no nickname yet), a little more inclined to joke, but still is holding these boundaries.

2) DeLuca talks about taking his girl to see some vampire movie and Tommy immediately knows it’s Twilight. DeLuca talks about how he likes Kristen Stewart (with Hen agreeing) before saying something about getting behind that, which makes Hen uncomfortable. (According to this, it would put it in 2008, which means she’s a paramedic for ten years prior to Buck joining which I hate. All those movies came out rather fast but could all be classified as “Twilight” so it was probably at least Eclipse in 2010 especially with the references made…. But then we start to go into how much I hate this timeline because nothing makes sense ever) Tommy talks about how he doesn’t understand the attraction to KS because she’s too… (Sal puts in hot here) broody, and Sal asks him if that means he’s Team Jacob (which is what makes me think it’s at least during Eclipse, I don’t see DeLuca being a Twi-Hard, and so his frame of reference would be movie based), and when Tommy acts confused (not sure if an act or not, he knew what Twilight was, but that doesn’t mean he knows about Team Edward vs Team Jacob), Chimney confirms that he’s implying that Tommy is gay. You. See. Him. Freeze. There is a few seconds where Tommy freezes in place like he’s processing before he makes a joke, blowing a kiss at Sal before laughing. Gerrard puts a stop to the conversation, and Hen takes a seat.

— Remember when Tommy has buried himself in the closet? What happened when someone rattles the door with a gay joke? One where it’s being implied that you are gay? When you’re bigot of a boss is sitting not five feet from you at the same table? You freeze to not immediately deny the accusation in a way that would make you look sus, and then you make a joke out of it. It hurts, so much.

———-Ah shit I’m going to timeline this———

From what we know, Tommy was in the army as a pilot. For Timeline purposes we’re going to assume that Eli leaving is the reason Hen went to the 118. During her med student arc it talks about how she was a paramedic for 10 years, so 2012 makes sense there. It doesn’t make sense with other thing’s because in Lonestar’s Hold the Line (2021 would make this make sense), Hen tells Owen that Denny is 10 and she and Karen and her were married for 8 years, (Same sex marriage has only been legal in CA since 2013). Bobby was their captain for a year in Worst Day Ever, they had a captain parade for two years (six captains) and before that they had a someone who was cleaning up after Gerrard. Also Hen and Karen were freshly back together when DADT was repealed. That makes Denny a baby on September 20th of 2011.

Enlistment periods are 8 years but that’s a mix of active and inactive duty. If Tommy signed up out of high school (18), was an active duty pilot for 6 years (24) and then moved to the reserves for the remaining two while he became a firefighter, it means he could have been a firefighter for two years longer than Hen or Chimney while being less than 10 years older than Buck.

Now none of this helps in placing where these episodes fall in the timeline, but I would say that Bobby’s first day falls about a year before the pilot, and Chimney Begins and Hen Begins butt right up together. Also I have no more information on Eli and how long he stayed after training Chim, and I probably never will because I cannot watch Boston.

More timeline BS. Hen and Karen had to have gotten together during the captain parade because Gerrard would not have let her on a call where she got hurt enough that Chim would make the call to Karen.

——————— Timeline bs over ——————

3) Tommy asks about how “New York bitchiness” could be a compliment after Howie mentioning that she has an East coast vibe, and Hen thanks him for the compliment. And then Howie makes it seem like Tommy’s calling her bitchy, but I don’t see it that way. What’s more likely is that’s the only vibe he knows from the east coast, so when Howie suggests she has it, he’s like, wait you think that’s a compliment? Howie treats it like Tommy’s calling Hen a bitch, but it honestly didn’t come off that way, more like Tommy trying to clarify that Howie wasn’t calling Hen a bitch by saying she has an “East Coast Vibe”. Anyway this conversation quickly devolves in Gerrard being a misogynist, and Tommy and DeLuca quickly scamper off.

4) Not Tommy related, but we do have someone with insight into being an openly gay firefighter now. Casey with the 115. He says that they knew he was gay from the moment he walked in, and it didn’t matter that he was the strongest guy in the firehouse. Here we have proof that it doesn’t matter your qualifications, if you’re perceived as gay, you’re automatically singled out. He said it was so hard that he was told to quit and find a new dream by his partner. Now, there is a red flag about your SO tellingly you to give up your dreams, but can you imagine how bad it would have been for the boyfriend to get to that point? The person you care about coming home every night defeated and downtrodden over something that’s supposed to be his dream? The ease in which Casey shed the boyfriend makes me think that they weren’t together long enough to earn those privileges, but the job also gets a red flag for being so bad that you’d advise your short term boyfriend to quit.

5) Hen’s speech. During this we don’t see him often, because he’s off to the side. The camera is more focused on Gerrard, DeLuca and Howie for the most part. But he does seem very closed off, when you do see him, his arms crossed, not standing defensively or challengingly like DeLuca, but like he’s trying to shrink. Actually it kind of reminds me of another queer firefighter that we all know.

6) We don’t get to see much more of the reactions because we go immediately into a call where a party limo crashed into a flower truck. Which we only know about because Hen went looking for it, saving the life of a little boy. Tommy tells her good job, that they would have discovered the secondary wreck eventually but that it would have been too late. She also has now earned Sal’s respect.

7) When they get back the Chief is there. Now remember, she gave her speech, they went out, they come back out and Gerrard is being removed. Nothing that happened on that call or involving her speech has anything to do with this. She thinks she’s being fired, that Gerrard called while heading to or back from the scene to have her removed, but that’s not the case. Her speech wasn’t actually necessary because everyone was already complaining about how Gerrard treated her. They even talk about someone who compared Gerrard and his behavior to hemorrhoids. Which I’m not saying could be from the army pilot who was probably deployed and had to undergo long-term constipation or diarrhea, but it could be.

Now all in all, there nothing really bad about Tommy’s behavior that we’ve seen. He doesn’t approach Hen, but we’ve seen from her interactions with Howie that she barely accepts his overtures of friendship in the beginning, and Tommy is much more closed off, remembering how he only opened up to Howie after he saved his life. He also doesn’t stand up for Hen to the captain’s face, but as an Army guy, he follows the chain of command. Doesn’t mean he won’t file one or two or three complaints through the proper channels. He just can’t afford to put himself in Gerrard’s crosshairs, can’t afford to undergo his scrutiny.

Bobby Begins Again

1) Hen has started a betting pool on the newest captain. Over under is 6 weeks, making me think that that’s the least amount of time a Captain stayed (about a month and a half and if they had 6 captains in 2 years that’s an average of 4 months). Tommy gives Nash a month and has to run to the ATM. DeLuca is obviously the main antagonizer, it sounds like he wanted the 118 and was denied (Also ABC, maybe bring him back ala Billy Tyson? Might be fun.).

2) Tommy has never worked on a farm, or dealt with toddlers. Cause he was floundering and falling all over himself when trying to catch Maurice the rooster. All in all these calls don’t show much. Tommy follows Bobby’s instructions, even though part of time he’s just parroting what Sal says, no arguments. Adds further credibility to the fact that he follows chain of command. It doesn’t matter that this guys only going to last a month, he’s my captain now.

3) During the Guillermo’s fire, Sal breaks rank to save the kid (which considering who that kid grows up to be, it sucks that he was successful). But when Bobby takes him to task for endangering them all, Sal doubles down. I thought I was paying attention during this scene, but it’s hard with the yelling. At least two people try to get him to cool it, one of them being Chimney who calls DeLuca “Fredo”.

4) They’re all at the bar, talking about Sal getting fired when Bobby shows up and the vibes change. Now sometime over the past twoish years Tommy is single, and it seems chronically at least to the house. Maybe because Gerrard is gone he doesn’t have to maintain a beard anymore, but with the endless captain parade and DeLuca being a tool, he doesn’t feel comfortable coming out? I think he’s also classified the 118 as unsafe, so maybe this lended a reason for his later transfer. But as he says, “Single is easier. Having the scars impresses women, getting ‘em freaks ‘em out.” Which gives heavy implications that like Buck in season one, Tommy isn’t dating but hooking up. If he’s gay, then his partners would have to be okay with the fact that he’s still closeted. And mention of women aside, it’s implied that a longer term relationship ended because he got hurt on the job. (This is why I don’t ascribe to the Tommy dated Abby theory. She implied that her relationship ended because of Patricia, and Tommy implies his last was due to injury. Which could be. He got hurt on the job and she couldn’t handle care giver burden for both of them? But that’s also turning Abby into Shannon Diaz pt 1 and while I dislike both women, they don’t need to be same character different font.) Here’s what I think. He got hurt on the job, and his long term boyfriend couldn’t even go to the hospital to check on him because he wasn’t out to his crew, causing them to break up.

Also for all you Buck/Tommy writers, Tommy canonically has a scar on his right side from a piece of shrapnel that he caught. He says it’s from a factory explosion. I don’t have the ability to get screen shots atm, but it’s pretty.

5) Tommy quotes Fight Club with Chim. So maybe another victim of the Han School of Movie References?

6) Bobby starts with family dinners. Tommy decides to transfer. The cake says, “The 217’s lose is our gain,” and they push his head into it.

The very next scene is Buck walking into the 118.

So all in all, we see Tommy as a deeply guarded character. He doesn’t open up easily, he follows orders, he has a soft side. I don’t really know how to conclude this because I sprinkled my impressions throughout, but I hope that this helps anyone who’s looking for Tommy characterization, and we’ll see tomorrow if any of this is right.

#tv: 911 #911 on abc #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 speculation #tommy kinard #faerly meta

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ackermanbloodline · 11 months

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Paperwork (Part IV) - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Read Part I Read Part II Read Part III

Author's Note: This is the final piece of the Paperwork series. Thank you for coming along on this journey! In total, this story amounts to nearly 24,000 words and 59 pages.

Warnings: Sexual content. 18+, MDNI.

* * *

You wake up in a quiet room. And even though your body is awake, it takes some type of strength to open your eyes. It’s so, so bright. Unbelievably bright. It’s white and you’re lying on a cot. You conclude you must be in the infirmary. You can hear other people talking and getting their wounds treated beyond the four curtains that surround you like a room.

Almost immediately, you are bombarded with the feeling of immense discomfort that stretches through your limbs. Your muscles in the back of your neck are cramping.

How long have I been here?

You quietly wince when you sit yourself up. Then you notice a figure stir in the corner of the room and stumble towards you with a cane. His face is illuminated in the pale light above you. He pulls up a chair and sits down next to you.

Captain Levi.

“Hey.”

You whisper, “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Could be better… what happened to your foot?”

There is a certain tightness to your lips when you speak. Your fingers go up to touch them and you notice something rough interwoven into the skin. Stitches. You eye his cane, which is lying up against the foot of your cot. Captain Levi chuckles but your expression remains neutral.

“You’re in the infirmary right now and you’re asking about me?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Eren ended up getting captured by the Female Titan. Mikasa and I managed to get him back. I’m fine.”

“Is it broken?”

“No, just badly sprained.”

“I see… How’s Gemma? I-is she okay?”

He looks away, his eyebrows furrowing together as his gaze adverts to the floor. His silence produces a wave of dread to wash over you. Your eyes widen.

“Captain?”

“She didn’t make it.”

Your heart sinks, low, “Oh.”

You lean your head up against the pillow behind you and look up to the ceiling. Your eyes sting when you think of the condition in which you found her. Even though Captain Levi was right and, yes, you did all you could, you still felt a certain sense of guilt. You bite the inside of your lip to try to prevent yourself from losing it in front of your captain.

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

A moment of silence is shared between the two of you. You look down at your hands, which are littered in cuts and bruises. You swear some of it is her blood, dried and caked underneath your fingernails. You become nauseous.

“What about the squad?”

He calls your name in a cautionary way. You shake your head.

“No, they… they can’t be dead.”

He doesn’t respond and you turn away from Captain Levi as hot tears run down your face.

“I don’t know how you’re still breathing.”

Your attention returns to him and you wait for him to explain his statement, your face blotchy and glistening.

“We thought you were all dead. How did you do it? How did you get back?”

“I…” you begin, voice weak from crying. You wipe off the tears from your cheeks. “I just started running as fast as I could. And then I came across a fallen comrade whose ODM gear was still functional. Then I found Gemma and had her hang onto me and used the gear to bring us back to everyone.”

“You did what you could to survive and you did. While this mission is not considered a victory by any means, you preserved. And that counts for something.”

“Look who’s awake!”

A female doctor pulls back the curtain and comes in, giving you a smile. She has your file in your hand and looks over the notes, flipping pages back and forth as she asks questions.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Could be better,” you repeat again.

“You are about due for some pain meds, would you like them?”

“Yes, please.”

She proceeds to give you some pills and a glass of water. You eagerly chug the entire glass down. Captain Levi proceeds to watch the interaction between you two closely.

“How long have I been here?”

“Only a few days.”

The nurse explains that some of your ribs are fractured and you’re extremely lucky to be alive. She shows you some breathing exercises to practice at home as the ribs heal. Other than that, all you sustained were substantial lacerations on your lip and your forehead. You are able to be discharged the day after tomorrow if everything goes well.

When she leaves, Captain Levi turns to you again. He begins to tell you how the Female Titan was identified as Annie Lehonart and Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover revealed themselves to be the Armored and Colossal Titans, respectively. They’ve managed to capture Ymir and Eren and the Scouts were on their way to rescue them.

You and Captain Levi are on medical leave for nearly two weeks.

“So much has happened since you’ve been out. This is only scratching the surface. But there’s no point dwelling on all this right now. I know you’re probably overwhelmed but I want you to focus on getting better. The Scouts need you.”

“Okay.”

Another silence fills the room. You enjoy it. Then memories flash across your mind in darkened shots.

“No. You are not dying today. I won’t allow it.” … “C’mon, stay with me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races. Your palms clench together.

“What? What is it?”

“You… kissed me on the forehead.”

His entire demeanor tenses up and his eyebrows furrow together. He looks towards the floor and you notice a very light blush dusting on his cheeks. You’re just hanging on what he’s about to say and waiting for him to explain himself.

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t remember that,” he looks up at you again while you look at him, almost in horror. “It was just in the heat of the moment. Don’t speak about it again.”

“Why?”

“Can’t you for once do as you’re told without questioning it, brat?”

“Nope, not in this instance.”

“So stubborn,” he holds his head in his hands. “So, does this mean that you're no longer mad at me?”

“You’re still on thin ice, Captain. Watch it.”

* * *

For the next week, you check in on Captain Levi a few times a day and always bring a freshly brewed pot of tea with you. You need to keep moving because of your ribs and he needs to take it easy with his leg. It’s a perfect deal. Thanks to the painkillers the nurse gives you and your persistence with your at-home physical therapy, you practically feel like the fractures don’t even exist.

Despite being on medical leave, it doesn’t stop Humanity’s Strongest from working. You catch him numerous times working on paperwork and writing letters to various officials in the regiment. Despite your pleas for him to take it easy and citing a correlation between one’s mental state and healing, he shuts you down and continues to chip away at his daily duties that don’t require a substantial amount of physical demand.

Your knuckles meet his office doors and produce your special knocking sequence so Captain Levi knows it's you before entering. You swing it open and find him hard at work at his desk with a stack of paperwork as a result of the 57th Exterior Scouting Mission. It’s evening and the sun is still shining brightly onto him and his working space, despite the impending night falling upon you. You pad over quietly to him and set the teacup and saucer down next to him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, remaining unhinged from his work.

“You sure you don’t want help with that?”

“Absolutely. It gives me something to do other than twiddling my thumbs.”

“Okay.”

You sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, crossing your legs as you blow on the tea in your hand. You study the captain’s demeanor. There is a deep crease in the middle of his eyebrows, his eyes focused on his task at hand. His wrist flicks and scribbles as he writes. And even sometimes he takes a lip between his teeth.

He’s dressed in a white long sleeved shirt with black slacks and shoes. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a peek of his chiseled chest. His dress jacket hangs on the back of his office chair neatly.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

“Only because there’s something on your face.”

“What?” he immediately shoots up from his chair and goes to the giant mirror in his bathroom. He comes out of the bathroom, glaring at you in unamusement. “Funny.”

A twinge of annoyance settles in the pit of his stomach when he sits back down and continues working. You try to eye your tea cup, anything else, besides the captain. You note that it takes him about three to five minutes to complete each form. When you see him pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh deeply, you roll your eyes and grab half of the pile that has yet to be done.

“Just swallow your fucking pride and let me help.”

He doesn’t protest when you manage to snag a pen from his desk. You look down on the form he’s currently working on and notice the name: Petra Rahl. He’s working on the former Levi Squad. Without another word, you make your way to the dining room table. He follows. Carefully pulling a chair out, you sit down and a wave of nostalgia hits you.

You recall the memories from a few weeks ago and how this feels so familiar. How his lips felt against yours, your body pressed on his, and his mouth all over you. The words he said… You swallow a thick wad of saliva when your pelvis clenches.

You shake your head to try to shake away the memories.

Goddammit, get it together. Do your job.

During the last few days, Captain Levi has taught you how to be more efficient with your time when completing paperwork. Thanks to his guidance, you work twice as fast as you did before. Very little conversation is made between you two as you scribble fervently. You don’t know how much time passes but you figure it takes at least four hours. You occasionally look out the window and notice how the sun is disappearing beyond the wall and the sky is saturating in a myriad of oranges and pinks.

Once you complete the last paper, you flip it over with the others and gather them neatly. This time, you are done before the captain. You set them on the table a few times so they all align in an organized pile and set it down in front of you. When you look towards him, his eyebrow is cocked.

“I have more for you if you’re done early.”

“What? That’s not fair,” you protest. “C’mon, I didn’t make you do that.”

“Why don’t you make yourself useful then and get us some more tea.”

“And you say I’m the brat.”

“Tch.”

You roll your eyes at his lame comeback and stand up, going to the kitchen to do as you’re told. The halls are quiet as everybody is asleep. You scurry into the kitchen and get everything ready to make some black tea. As you brew it, you reflect.

The past few days, you and the captain had been getting closer since you had been spending a considerable amount of time together. This temporary medical leave both of you are facing feels like a punishment, but a blessing at the same time. There had been days where he felt like a friend of yours and there were other days where he was an absolute stranger. Still, you kept it professional. Obviously. You had been helping change his bandages and helping him with various things. Although he insisted that he hated being coddled or watched over and you were wasting your time, you insisted every time that it wasn’t like that.

Part of you absolutely can’t stand him and his my-way-or-the-highway demeanor. How he is so self-assured and confident. But another part of you longs to get closer. Like a moth drawn to a flame. You wonder, though… how close can you get before you get burned?

The tea kettle whistles with life when the water is boiled, ripping you out of your thoughts.

When you return, you approach Captain Levi again, who is still at his seat, and softly set down the cup on the table with a clang. You sit back down on the other side of the table. You conclude that his share is completely done as his pen sits on top of it. You look out the window and take a careful sip, which warms your palms considerably.

You sigh, looking down on your pile, “Man, I just can’t believe Reiner and Bertholdt… how many of us they’ve killed. I didn’t suspect a thing. Their stories lined up to a T… everything.”

“Yeah. It was a shock to everybody. Eren is taking it pretty hard.”

“I bet… I know him and Reiner were close. The kid looked up to him. Really makes you wonder who you can trust.”

He goes quiet.

“What?” you inquire, looking at him with curiosity.

“Do you trust me?”

You are taken aback by his sudden question.

“Well… you’ve had plenty of chances to kill me and you haven’t yet,” you chuckle. As always, he remains stoic. You clear your throat. “Yeah, I would say I trust you.”

“Then follow me.”

Captain Levi fluidly gets up from his chair and pushes it in. You’re confused but you get up and accompany him anyway. He opens his bedroom door, revealing his dark room, and walks over to the large window to the left of his bed. He unlocks and opens it, crawling through while still somehow holding his tea and not spilling it. His eyes lock onto yours when they peer through the windowsill.

“Captain?”

“I told you; it’s just Levi.”

He reaches out for you. You try desperately to read him to try to find any clue of what he’s thinking. It’s no use. That man has and always will be an enigma to you. You hesitantly reach for it and he pulls you swiftly outward and onto the roof, planting a hand on the small of your back. A series of butterflies erupts in your stomach. You instantly kill and dismiss them.

A warm breeze brushes your face. You are met with the same beautiful cityscape you saw a few weeks ago. This time, though, there were quite a few houses that had warm, yellow lights coming out of them. You can even hear the winding down bustling of the city. The air is fresh and invigorates and refreshes your being. The sky is darkening and the stars are beginning to come out and shimmer brilliantly above you, adorning the sky like spilled silver glitter.

Levi takes a seat, his knees bent upward and wrapped around by his arms. You carefully lower yourself down onto the rough tile roofing next to him.

“Wow,” you murmur, taking another swig of your tea. “It’s amazing.”

“I sit out here often. Allows me the space to breathe and think.”

“It’s a beautiful place to do it. What do you think about?”

“Lots,” he says, drinking.

“Well… what’re you thinking about right now?”

He looks over to you, “The failed mission.”

You look down at your cup, “Oh.”

“I still don’t know how you managed to make it. You saved a severely wounded fellow soldier with broken ribs in a seemingly hopeless situation. You fought like hell. But I can’t seem to shake the way you screamed… I didn’t know what was going on.”

“I didn’t save her.”

Levi looks over at you with a confused, perhaps even angry, countenance.

“That’s all you got out of that and that's what you think?”

You shrug your shoulders and he continues.

“You saved her. Yes, she might’ve succumbed to her wounds but that doesn’t make your act of bravery any less valid. And obsessing over that fact does nothing. It doesn’t help you nor the fallen. It’s life.”

Your eyes begin to water and a painful lump begins to form in the center of your throat. He sets his empty cup up onto the window.

“What do you suggest, then? How do I carry on her memory?”

“By acknowledging the fact that her sacrifice has helped us make great strides, both today and tomorrow,” he explains. “Her strength hasn’t died. You carry on that torch every day.”

There is an awful void of conversation after that. It’s almost unbearable. You don’t dare to look at him, otherwise you might shrivel under his gaze like a coward. Still, you sit silently next to him. You try to focus on anything else other than him. The stars, the wall, the townspeople below. Anything. You finish up the last of your tea and set it beside his on the window.

Something cracks inside of you, though. Something that’s been building and being pushed down. And it suddenly breaks through like a dam with the slightest touch, like that of a feather.

“It should’ve been me,” your voice cracks and you begin to weep, turning your gaze away from Levi. “I’m useless. I can’t do anything right. I’m just a burden. The doctors say it’s a miracle I’m alive? No. This is more like a cruel joke. You were right, Levi; would probably be better if I’m just eaten and—”

Your monologue is interrupted when Levi extends a hand and grabs you. He leans over and softly but urgently presses his mouth to yours. Your eyes go wide and stare at him through clouded vision, then close your eyes and lean back into him. His grip wraps around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. Your arms drape from his shoulders, wrapping around to bury your hands in his soft hair.

He pulls away and you cup his face tenderly. He brings his forehead to yours, wiping away your tears and the trails they’ve left.

“Don’t ever speak like that again,” his voice is deadly serious. “That’s a fucking order.”

And just like that, his lips are on yours again. It’s so slow, so passionate. He feels and tastes like honey. He opens his mouth and his tongue lightly brushes against your lower lip. You grant him access and the kiss deepens. Your fingers find their way to his scalp again, lightly scratching it when his arms wrap around your waist and hug you softly to be mindful of your healing wounds.

He’s being so tender, so loving. It makes your heart swell.

Fuck you, Levi.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he says in between kisses, leaving you gasping from the lack of contact.

The neediness, the breathiness in his voice makes you squirm. Your body is involuntarily expressing the need for this to go faster. You need to feel him all over you again. You desperately grasp his shirt collar and pull him closer to you. He grasps your shoulders tightly and pushes you away slightly. His dilated eyes bores into yours. His eyes look more black than the usual piercing silver you’re so used to. And he looks far from bored.

Both of you are panting with need as his breath fans across your face.

He whispers, “Slower, slower, slower. Slower.”

He smoothly pulls you in again. He’s so smooth, so effortless with you. It feels so natural. Like a dream. Your body is practically screaming for his touch. Your touch becomes needy and rushed when your lips press harder and quicker on his.

He draws away slightly and slowly speaks against your lips. You somehow manage to hold back a frustrated whimper.

“Slower… slower…”

The sounds of you both heavily breathing and the sounds of your lips connecting add to your arousal pooling between your legs. You lean backward so you’re laying on the roof and Levi towers over you, his hands running down the sides of your body and squeezing at your hips. He grabs one of your legs and brings it up towards him, gaining access to some of your backside.

His palm takes its time gliding over the fabric covering your legs as you continue to kiss, noticing something hard on your leg already. He contracts his fingers and grabs your ass, pulling your hips up towards him. He then comes down and slaps it. Even though his lips are slow and sweet, his touch is slow and unforgiving. You release a quiet moan into his mouth at the contact.

“Let’s take this inside.”

Without another word, he’s up onto his feet and carrying you. You slightly wince at the sudden contact as a wave of pain runs across your ribs, but not enough for him to notice. Once you two are back in his room, he shifts you around so your legs wrap tightly around his waist and he pins you up against the nearest wall.

His lips make a trail of kisses from your mouth down to the base of your neck. As he does, his hips slowly roll into yours. Quick jolts of warm pleasure run through your pelvis and down your legs. Your eyes flutter closed when your arm wraps around his head, pushing him closer into your skin. His tongue and lips work together to unravel you, the flesh of your neck seething with desire. He brings one hand up and carefully undoes your ponytail, allowing your hair to fall down in a curtain around you two.

You quietly whine his name as he continues his assault on your neck. Upon hearing it, he carries you to his bed. He effortlessly throws you down onto it and crawls on top of you in between your legs. His scent is all around you, underneath you on his comforter and him on top of you. Take a deep breath in and savor the moment. It’s nearly intoxicating.

He watches you in adoration in the moonlight when his eyes travel up and down your body, so ready and open for him when his touch trails down your body.

He says your name, “You are so breathtaking.”

Feeling a heat creep up onto your cheeks, you use a move that you were taught during a recent training day to flip him over so he’s on bottom. He slams down with his head on the pillow. His grip instinctively moves to your waist and stays there, moving up underneath your shirt and tracing your warm skin. His touch leaves goosebumps in its wake.

You lean into Levi’s neck and just as your lips make contact with his skin, his hips are already softly bucking upward towards yours. You use one of your hands to pull up on the root of his hair and the other to keep his head to the side so you can retain access to his neck. Levi makes a series of strangled moans and you reciprocate that energy by doing the same. Your tongue makes a stripe from his collarbones to his ear, stopping there to kiss and suck on his earlobe.

His touch, once again, finds its way to your ass and briskly smacks it a few times.

“Oh, fuck,” he almost whimpers, burying his face in your hair. “Mmm.”

His sounds of pleasure encourage you to keep going. He twists the waistband of your leggings into his fist and uses it to guide your hips up and down on his pelvis. His hard cock slides up on your cunt. You sigh against his skin, the contact shooting pleasurable sparks up your pelvis.

Eventually your lips return to his and he kisses you intensely with greed. He plays with the hem of your shirt and looks to you for permission. You assist him in taking it off and silently express gratitude to yourself that you decided to wear your good bra today. His eyes are glued to your chest and he sits up, pushing your chest to his and still straddling him.

Levi buries his face in your chest, planting numerous kisses there and also carefully caressing your sides. You wrap an arm around his head and kiss his forehead as he does. He slowly works up to your bra, massaging you through your bra. He gently pulls back a cup and his mouth moves to kiss your nipple before taking it completely into his mouth. Your hips buck at the sensation when he grasps your breasts with his large hands.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe into his hair.

“Good.”

His tongue laps up your nipple and even slightly pulls on it with his teeth, causing a squeak to escape your lips. He chuckles with pride.

Fuck you, Levi.

You lean back and reach around your back and unclasp your bra. You throw it to the floor beside the bed and Levi’s eyes go wide with the new view of your naked chest. You feel his dick twitch below you and you moan as you press your hips down onto it to get some type of relief. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and when he sees that, his cock flutters again.

You reach for his shirt and after he lays his hands on yours, he assists you in taking it off. The discarded material is chucked to the side and your lips find each other’s again. Hot skin is pressed skin now that both of you are topless. He is so muscular, his muscles flexing against your chest. It feels heavenly. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Levi gracefully flips you over again and sets you below him.

His mouth leaves yours and makes a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your chin, your neck, collarbone, and torso. He takes his time, especially around your ribs. He mutters apologies and words of affirmations each time his lips pull away from your bruised flesh. You have never wanted somebody so badly in your life until now. Your fingers intertwine strands of hair in between themselves and lightly pull as he continues to go south.

He finally reaches your waistband and his warm breath fans across the skin there, electrifying and turning your body on to every little touch of his. His fingers trail down your sides and hook into the fabric and pull down. As your pants are removed, his hands continue to trail over your smooth skin. When Levi pulls them off, he drinks you in. Your hair is fanned across his pillow as you’re left in just your underwear.

His palms plant themselves on your knees and gently push them apart. He lowers himself down in between your legs and wraps his arms around your legs, his palms resting on the front of your thighs. His fingers slowly and softly massage your muscles there. His mouth starts at your knee and slowly works towards your center, planting more open-mouthed kisses on your thigh. Your hips have a mind of their own as they gently rock forward, needing his touch in another spot.

“Stay still, brat,” he orders after he places a strong arm across your waist and pinning you down. “Don’t make me stop what I’m doing.”

You can’t respond with anything else but a moan and a nod. At this point, you feel your arousal dripping down in your underwear. When he reaches the apex that connects your leg to your pelvis, he starts the same thing on the other side. You try your best to keep your hips still, but it’s difficult. You bring up your hand to your mouth and bite down to try to stifle the sounds of pleasure that rip from your throat.

He reaches up and grabs that hand and interlaces your fingers together down towards your hip.

He breathes you in and his exhale soaks into your underwear. Your eyes clamp shut, overwhelmed with the teasing and lack of pleasure.

“Please,” you whimper, bucking upwards towards his mouth.

“You haven’t even the slightest idea of how much I’ve wanted this again. I want to savor it.”

He plants a kiss and makes a small stripe with his tongue on your clothed cunt and you moan loudly, the slightest bit of gratification making your whole body jump.

You manage to breathe, “You’d… be surprised to know… how I feel…”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

He hums in appreciation and lets go of you and wraps his fist around the fabric of your underwear harshly before pulling it apart, causing a ripping sound to echo in your ears. He rips one side and then rips the other before it completely comes off. It’s pushed away after that. You want to be angry at him for ruining a perfectly good pair of underwear, but you can’t bring yourself to protest. It feels too good. He feels too good.

You squirm with anticipation when he comes down in between your thighs again. His hand finds yours again and his tongue presses flat against your pussy. Your back arches. His tongue feels so smooth, soft, and wet when he moves it in various motions. Hot flames spark throughout your entire body as he gets into it, shaking his head at times to gain more motion.

“Shit, I forgot just how good you taste.”

Your body jolts and spasms at his words and also when he sucks you, causing suckling noises to echo throughout his bedroom. His arm is still pinned across your lower torso which renders you unable to move. Occasionally, when his tongue drops lower, you feel his nose brushing past your swollen clit. His hand temporarily unlatches itself from yours to hook your leg over his shoulder and then returns.

You look down at him as he’s hard at work. Something about seeing Humanity’s Strongest between your legs makes your pussy clench. You brush back some of his hair with your other free hand. There’s a large vertical vein that is bulging slightly from the center of his forehead. Although he doesn’t look up at you, you still admire him and his efforts. The bed slightly rocks from him rutting his hips against the mattress.

All those years of using the ODM gear really came in handy.

He adjusts himself after his arm lets go of your hips and positions his finger at your entrance, making teasing circles around it. You somehow manage to scoot yourself lower and it enters you, which elicits a sigh from the both of you. He thrusts it in and out a few times before adding another finger and curling upward.

“Where’s all that defiance now, hm?”

As much as you want to show your defiance, you are physically not able to.

Fuck you, Levi Ackerman.

Even though he has just started eating you out, you already feel like your orgasm is near. Your legs begin to tremble and white stars prickle at the corners of your vision. You take your lip in between your teeth harshly and bite down. Levi is relentless. He continues his motions and sucks your clit, hard. Your body shakes from his forcefulness. But you don’t mind.

You find your voice and moan out, “Levi, I’m close.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm, yeah.”

You clench around him with so much strength and lust that in the back of Levi’s mind, he’s concerned if he will even be able to fit inside. You squeeze his hand so hard that your knuckles turn white. Just when you are about to go over the edge, Levi stops. A frown crosses your face.

Faster than you can register it, he flips you onto all fours and digs his fingers into your hips and dives back into your pussy. His tongue laps you and your sex. A sense of embarrassment floods you, given the vulnerability of this position, but quickly vanishes when he continues pleasing you. Your back arches against his face and you're buried in the pillow. He grabs both of your arms and pins them both behind your back with one hand.

Levi stops and you can feel him stare a hole into your skin. You push your hips back and urge him to continue.

“Eager, are we?”

“Very.”

He spits onto your cunt and continues his assault. You had never thought that Levi could be so vulgar and nasty, given his cleaning habits/obsession.

Everybody is full of surprises.

Just when you are about to go over the edge, Levi ceases and flips you over. He crawls up to your face and comes up to kiss you delicately. You are left with nothing. Again.

The taste of you on his lips is all you can register when his tongue enters your mouth. He pulls away from you and looks deep into your eyes, which are blown out with pleasure. Your eyebrows are furrowed together. You are pissed.

“Don’t look so deflated, sweetheart,” he practically chuckles and the pad of his thumb brushes your lower lip. “Call me a selfish bastard, but I only want you to cum on my cock.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks again. You bravely reach your hand downward and grasp his length. He’s as hard as a fucking rock. You look up at him and bite your lip and the sight nearly drives the man wild. He collapses next to you on the bed and starts to undo his pants, but you stop him in his tracks by shoving his hands away.

“Let me.”

You swing a leg over and straddle him, leaning down and kissing his neck. When his palms find your sides, you reach backward to grab them and pin them both beside his head. You hear a pleased hum. He is completely at your mercy, now. Your tongue swirls in small circles against his carotid.

Levi makes a series of quiet breaths and sighs when you kiss down further, his muscles contracting underneath your mouth with need. He watches you like a starving hawk every step of the way. He reaches down and brushes hair away from your face before running a hand across your scalp. When you get to his hip bones, you lightly swipe your tongue across them. He throws his head back and groans.

“You know, you’ve talked about how good looking I am,” you mutter on his skin, one of your hands working to unbutton his pants. “But I feel like nobody has told you how pretty you are.”

He breathes, “Always talking too much…”

You manage to pull down his pants and shimmy them off his legs. He’s left only in his boxer briefs. His length strains against them and slightly wet with pre-cum. Your mouth salivates at the sight. You can’t wait to break this man down. You approach him again, your face just merely inches from him. You softly grab his chin and make him look you in the eyes.

“I’m deadly serious though, Levi. You’re very pretty.”

A light pink tinge breaks across his face. You smile at him and kiss his stomach one more time before traveling down to his bulge. You lower your lips down onto it and place featherlight kisses onto it. His pelvis tips up towards you and you lick a stripe all the way up the fabric. Levi loudly groans and runs a hand through his hair. Your arousal heightens.

Your fingers take their time in finding their way into his briefs and pulling his dick out, brushing up along Levi’s leg in the process. He looks down on you with impatience but you ignore it. After, you grab him firmly in your hand, causing him to hiss in pleasure. His patch of pubic hair tickles your fingers. After he notices that you aren’t moving your wrist, he begins to thrust up into it. Your hand remains stationary as he uses you to pleasure himself. His hands fist the comforter below him as he does so. Drips of pre-cum dribble down his length and into your hand, giving your grip some lubrication.

You take him in in all his glory. Sure, he was more than impressive out in the field of battle. But this is something else. This is far more intimate. He is in his most vulnerable state. And he’s sharing that with you.

In appreciation, you ease forward and put out your tongue before tracing a stripe along the underside of his cock. He bows towards you and takes your hair and holds it in a fist, allowing him a full view of you as you start to suck him. Your mouth wraps around his tip, swiping the beads of pre-cum off, and your tongue makes circles around it. You, too, had forgotten his taste and how addictive he is. He throws his head back and lifts his hips up again, encouraging you to go further.

After taking off his briefs, you take more and more of him into your mouth until you can’t anymore. Your grip remains around him to compensate for the length you can’t reach. You start bobbing up and down, his grip in your hair growing tighter with each passing second but not pushing down. Almost immediately, you find a comfortable rhythm. You continue for a few moments, noticing how Levi’s muscles tensing up with your touch.

He holds your head in place and thrusts up into your mouth, his tip pushing up against the back of your throat with each plunge. The sound of your mouth wrapped around him as he does this smacks throughout the room. It’s so obscene, but the both of you love it. As long as you can still breathe, you don’t mind this.

Soon, he stops his movements, “You’re taking me so good, fuck.”

You pull him out of your mouth and a messy string of saliva connects him to your mouth. Leaning back in, you lap the string back up by rotating your tongue in the process. Levi’s eyes roll. You smile at the victory and put him back in. You change your rhythm every now and again, speeding it up and slowing it back down when he least expects it. When you go faster, he jerks and tenses up. When you go slower, he relaxes and breathes deeply to regain his composure.

And sometimes you even take a break to kiss his hips and his thighs while still jacking him off with your hand.

In his mind, the head you’re giving him is mindblowing. Your lips on his skin is like a wildfire. You’ve already edged him at least two different times without even realizing. He isn’t sure how much longer he can take this torture.

The next time you speed up, you manage to get him dangerously close. So close, in fact, that he thinks he doesn’t make it by the time he lifts up on your hair and forces you off him.

He nearly pleads, “Come here and kiss me.”

You crash your lips to his and eagerly obey his command. His arms wrap around your waist and your cup his face, tracing your fingertips along his sharp jawline. His dick is twitching against your pelvic bone numerous times as you two make out, naked bodies pressed on one another’s.

He pulls away and slips his hand to the side of your face. You lean into his touch.

“Let me make this absolutely clear,” his voice is full of bitterness when he says your name, there’s an edge to it. Your stomach drops and he brings you in so your foreheads touch. “You are not a burden. And I won’t let anything happen to you. That’s a promise.”

You fight back the urge to cry. Instead, you give him a smile and place your palm on his.

“Okay.”

“Now let me prove it to you.”

He reaches down and your gaze follows him. He grabs his length and pushes it on your slit. Your eyes snap shut with the sensation of his sex on yours. He gathers some of your lubrication onto the tip and teases your entrance. He looks up at you with darkened irises.

You nod your head to give your consent and his other hand grabs at your hip to steady it, getting ready to push himself in.

“If anything interrupts us again, I might just have to kill somebody.”

You heartily laugh and he smiles. This time, he shows teeth. It’s a beautiful sight. You’ve never wanted anything more. You push back his hair from his hungry eyes. He’s never been more attractive than he is right now.

Without another word, his tip goes in. It’s a stretching, delicious feeling. Even though he hasn’t gone all the way in yet, both of your mouths drop open and eyelids closed. He moves his hands to your sides and looks up at you, beautifully pressed like a flower onto the bed below.

“You’re in control here,” he strains, pecking your cheek. “Take it at your own pace.”

You nod your head in understanding and slowly sink down onto him, taking it inch by inch. God, he feels way too fucking good. His eyelids are so pressed together that he looks to be in pain. Adjusting to him takes a minute but once you’ve fully taken him, you use your hands to plant themselves on his firm chest and move in a fluid motion. His grip settles on your hip bones but occasionally moves upward to your breasts to fondle them. You feel so full of him. Your heart is full and your mind is full. You couldn't have more of Levi inside you if you tried.

You grind back and forth, up and down on him and the slaps of his thighs smacking against your ass fill the room. Your hair falls in loose waves around your face and your shoulders. Your face is contorted with lust and pleasure and your cheeks are heated. Your breasts bump up and down with your body. Your walls flutter and squeeze around him deliciously each time you roll yourself onto him. To Levi, you look and feel like an actual goddess.

And then there’s Levi, who is so fixated and addicted to this moment that he can’t even think of anything else. He struggles to stifle his whimpers and groans. A large part of you wants to commit them to memory so you can listen to them whenever you want. A number of affirmations leave his lips when you ride him like a priest preaching to a church full of followers.

“You’re riding me so well. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop. Oh, yeah. You’re so fucking good, sweetheart. Shiiiit.”

Your hips begin to tire out and Levi notices. Before long, he halts you from moving further by wrapping his arms around your center and fucking up into you. He’s more rushed and rough as his balls slap up on your ass. Your face is buried in Levi’s neck and you hold his face. His moans are in your ear and yours are in his. You can feel your orgasm building up again and your pelvic floor tenses.

Levi feels this and refuses to let you finish this early.

He pushes you up off him and spins you around so you’re laying down on him with your back on his chest. He reaches down and his fingers find and slowly circle your clit as his length rubs against your soaked cunt. You reach back and grip his hair, running your fingertips urgently through the black strands. You need more. Your hips desperately rock up to his fingers to try to get him to speed up.

He doesn’t waver. His middle and ring fingers move in tight, evenly paced circles around your clit. It doesn’t take long before you get close again. Your moans become more high pitched and frequent and your legs start shaking. The warmth you feel in the depths of your pelvis takes over you. On top of that, Levi’s dick teases your entrance.

Just when you are about to be pushed over the edge, he stops again. He completely withdraws. You nearly want to cry.

“So needy,” he lowly chuckles in your ear, kissing on the cartilage as you wine. His words make you flood even more. “I could do this all night.”

“Do it then,” you moan. “Do what you want.”

He pauses everything and you feel his bumping heartbeat on your shoulder blade. He takes a few deep breaths.

“You really shouldn’t have said that, brat.”

You squeal when he nearly shoves you off him and carries you to the bathroom. There, he pushes you over the sink and positions himself behind you. Once he’s all the way in, his grip finds its way to your hair and pulls on it lightly. You’re flush to his chest again. His hand slowly wraps around your throat and squeezes. Your eyelids snap shut as you feel your head swell.

“No, open,” he scolds in between breaths. “I want you to see how pretty you are when you’re taking me like this.”

He’s referring to the wall mirror in front of you both. You open your eyes and take in the view. Levi is behind you and thrusting into you and your body is contorted backward against him. His hand bulges with veins and seemingly huge when it's wrapped around your neck like this. His strong arm pins your torso in place.

He looks so concentrated and adamant when he’s fucking you, he looks almost the same way when he’s killing titans. His hair is pushed back from his face which gives you a clear view of his gray eyes. A candle lit behind him reflects on his body in a warm, smooth outline. Even though he positioned you like this so you can admire your own beauty, you will always be in awe of his.

Even though there is a certain roughness to him right now, he’s still being soft. His grip on your neck isn’t too hard and his thrusts aren’t slamming up to your cervix. It’s just enough.

“Stop,” you breathe as you feel close again. And upon command, Levi immediately ceases his actions and withdraws, his palm dropping from your neck and caressing your skin. He opens his mouth to ask if you are okay but before he can, you are on your knees and swallowing his cock. You look up at him as you do so and his lustful gaze penetrates yours effortlessly.

The mixed taste of you both on him sends you in a state of euphoria, making your pussy drip with want. You can’t help but to grind yourself on the back of your heel. A slick wetness covers the skin there immediately and your clit rubs on it. You let out a pleasurable moan that reverberates through Levi. The vibrations make him throw his head back.

You say, “God, I love sucking you off. I love making you feel good.”

Your enthusiasm makes Levi twitch with need. He buries his hand in your scalp and holds your hair back in a ponytail again. You give your mouth a break and jack him off at a steady paste, your wrist rotating around as it reaches the tip. His breath hitches in his throat and his body jerks involuntarily. Your name falls off his lips and is accompanied by whimpers and moans. You smile up at him and plant kisses along the front of both his thighs.

He lifts you up off the floor after placing his hands on the sides of your face. He kisses you passionately, his tongue immediately entering your mouth and playing with yours. Your cunt slides up against his length and just like a few weeks ago, you rock your pelvis up and down it. Levi pulls you in close to him and buries his face in your hair.

This makes you feel incredibly close to him and turns you on even more than you already are. Your slick gathers on his length as you continue to grind your hips on it.

“This feels awfully familiar,” he mutters in between pants.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Levi chuckles and brings you back into his room and lays you down on the bed. He readies himself in between your legs and slowly pushes in again. Your eyes roll back. He rolls his hips into yours a few times before reaching over your head and grabbing a pillow. In one fluid motion, he lifts up your hips and places it under your lower back. You are slightly confused at the gesture but don’t bother to ask. You trust him.

His tip brushes your G-spot time and time again, sending jolting sparks throughout your limbs. He collapses his body onto yours and kisses your neck as he continues to thrust. The collision of skin on skin and his touch makes you go wild. It brings you closer and closer to the brink.

“I’m close, Levi…”

He stops again but this time he continues soon after, but very slowly. You look down at the place that connects your bodies together. How a subtle squelching noise can be heard every time he pushes back in. His forehead connects to yours and kisses it. It sends a series of butterflies through your stomach.

“Cum with me, beautiful.”

No, scratch that. It’s an entire zoo.

He connects his lips to yours in a frenzy once he speeds up his thrusting. A white heat erupts from your pelvis and burns like a wildfire across your being. Heated waves of pleasure numb your mind to everything else. All you can focus on is Levi and how good he’s making you feel.

“I… I…” you struggle to speak, your voice going hoarse. “I want you cum inside me.”

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He kisses your cheeks out of appreciation. It feels so much more close and intimate than just hooking up. You both feel it. The kisses, the touches, the words seem to mean more. There’s an intention behind them. You connect your gaze to Levi’s and you shoot him a weak smile in between sobs.

I love you, Levi Ackerman.

A few more brushes against your g-spot and you see white. Stars. A scream rips from your throat and he doesn’t even bother to try to muffle you anymore. He needs to hear you cry out for him in the most desperate way possible. Your heart is beating so fast that it’s as if it’s going to burst. All you can register is Levi’s moans as he calls out for you. He sounds so, so heavenly. You both struggle to kiss each other back, only being able to pant and hold each other close. You feel his cock spasm. It feels divine. He rides your highs out and eventually slows down.

He pulls out and collapses beside you. It takes you both a few minutes to come back to reality. You have to catch your breath and stabilize your vision, which spins wildly. Eventually you open your eyes and turn your head over towards him, placing your lips on his.

“Fuck,” you breathe.

“Yeah...”

He sits up and takes a look at the mess you both have created in between your legs. He pulls apart your knees to find translucent spider webs in between your thighs. The sight alone makes him want to do it all over again. You take your bottom lip in between your teeth when you see how infatuated he is.

He gently slaps your leg which causes you to jump, “Come on, we both need a shower.”

“Levi,” you whine. “I don’t think I’m able to walk.”

“That’s fine.”

He carefully shoves his arms underneath you and brings you to his chest when he carries you to the shower. His knees buckle underneath him a few times but his strides remain steady and strong. The sex took a toll on him, too.

Before you know it, you both are in the shower. The evaporation of the hot water makes the entire bathroom smell like sex. Neither of you mind, at all. He hugs you underneath the stream of water and you’re taken aback by his sudden gesture. You reciprocate the hug hesitantly.

“Levi? Are you okay?”

He mutters into your skin, “I still can’t understand what you’re doing to me.”

“What?”

“I…” he starts but sighs. His entire body is so tense. “I can’t deny this any longer. Almost losing you scared the shit out of me.”

You stroke his hair comfortingly. His eyes flutter closed.

“I know.”

“I’m not really good at expressing myself sometimes. I would rather eradicate all the titans than to be doing this right now… but I know what I want. And I want you.”

You pull back from him and look at him with furrowed eyebrows. Although you are caught off guard by his confession, you welcome it anyway. Weeks of trying to deny how you felt for this man and pretending like he doesn’t pretend was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. No matter what titan of what size, it couldn’t compare to the pain you’d been suppressing. And now it’s all come together.

You snap out of your trance when Levi nudges his nose against yours and calls your name.

“Please say something.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Although your lips feel raw, you still are eagerly kissing him back. You feel so content and at peace. Everything has finally boiled down to this moment.

That is, until you feel his cock hardening on your leg. You look down at it and look back at him with annoyance.

“Seriously? We just got done.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh my god… I thought the majority of older people suffer from erectile dysfunction? Clearly not you.”

“Wow, are you calling me old?”

“Maybe,” you laugh but his amusement dissipates when you grab onto his length and begin to stroke it. “So what if I am? What’re you gonna do about it, old man?”

“That damn humor of yours…”

* * *

End

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yuikomorii · 2 months

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am I the only one who thinks that Yui/MC is just a stand in for the player? like, her personality is tame and vanilla, enough so that anyone willing could fit into her position quite easily. Not forgetting to mention you can change the MC's name in the games, and she has no voice in the games. And because that there is no canon ship in otome games in general, because who the MC ends up with depends on who the player wants her/themselves to be with (in Ayato's case, it's only that he's like the standard, the poster boy). So, ever since it came out, I've been in the fandom: I've played all the games, read the manga, interviews, and everything, and especially the drama CDs (which make you feel as if they're talking to *you*), and I came to this conclusion. So you learn particular things of the MC/Yui, for example, her preferences that shape her as an independent character, e.g., having her own quotes, her merch, but still, she just gives me that impression. *This is why I also find Yui-bashing to be ridiculous; after all, her character is basically built to be subdued, so the players can fit in her shoes*— is what I think. Thank you for listening. I really do want your (non biased) thoughts, for this has been bothering me for quite a while, :)

// I honestly believe all heroines are made to be a stand in for the player, because that’s how otome games work.

Yui is a 2012 heroine, therefore it makes sense why she doesn’t have as much uniqueness or personality as newer ones. Nevertheless, I would like to point out that a bunch of Japanese players DON’T actually relate to her that much. They mostly like her because she’s cute and dumb, and they find that entertaining.

On the other hand, there are a lot of avid otoge players who find her too “stupid and mean” for a heroine. I agree with the stupid part, but despite her moments of random bitchiness, I don’t find her as bad as they say. Yet, maybe they played more otome games than me, so their expectations are higher.

I wouldn’t really call her tame or vanilla though. She’s also one of the thirstiest heroines imo, given that she keeps thinking about wanting more sex even after doing it a few hours ago and so on. There’s also an ending in which she cheats for pleasure and then starts being happy when getting railed as a punishment, therefore she might seem innocent, but there are a lot of kinky things going on inside her head. :”)

Other than that, I agree that she appears as a quite plain character, but it can’t be helped, since the LI’s are the ones made to stand out more through their writing in otome games. To me she’s fun, but she might come off as not flashed out to others, which is to be expected from a heroine.

I also agree with you when it comes to the CD dramas and interviews talking about the player, instead of Yui as a whole, because those are supposed to be the most “yume” materials. Rejet confirmed Ayato as the mainstay of the story in some books and magazines, which means that in the official universe, he ends up with Yui, but this doesn’t mean people can’t ship themselves with him or can’t replace Yui with themselves. My friend has an OC and she used to post screenshots of some routes, yet a lot of people kept asking her stuff such as: “Do you hate Yui?” or “Why do you never talk about Yui?” only because the sprite was turned off and the name was changed.

People should let others go through their own otoge experience. After all, otome games were produced like that for a reason. If you want to play as the heroine, that’s good and valid! If you want to play as yourself or your OC, that’s just as good and valid!

#admin

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altschmerzes · 16 days

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as a treat for @jamiesfootball, an extended sequence of softness and light, taken from far ahead in wriggle up on dry land (the baby jamie au). enjoy, my friend <3

Jamie has been repeatedly assured by both Roy and Sarah that what he is doing is fine and allowed, but even so, the walk up the path to the school building makes him more nervous with every step he takes. He feels like any moment now he’s going to get accosted by a teacher or school official and interrogated about what he’s doing here. Possibly arrested. If it weren’t for the fact that he would rather die than let either of the Kents down, let alone both of them, he would probably chicken out and run or something. But he would rather die and the task does need to be done, and so here’s Jamie, finding a teacher in the courtyard and walking up to her like he has every right to be here.

“Hello,” he says to the woman, doing his best to sound trustworthy and respectable and not like an awkward sixteen-year-old. “I’m Jamie, I’m here to pick up Phoebe Kent?”

There’s only a moment between when Jamie speaks and when the teacher does, but that moment is plenty long enough for a thousand potential responses to cycle through his mind, none of them positive. And then-

“Oh! Right, yes, Jamie,” the teacher on after-school duty says brightly, flipping up a piece of paper on her clipboard. “Yes, Sarah did call about you picking Phoebe up this afternoon, she sent your picture along as well. Come along, I’ll fetch her for you.”

Still not entirely believing that this was all going to work out, Jamie follows her across the pavement.

“Nice of you to look after your cousin like this,” the woman says without turning around, and what sounds like it was intended to be an offhanded, casual comment stops Jamie in his tracks. It takes her a few seconds to notice, and it takes just about as long for Jamie’s brain to catch up with his mouth and produce any sort of coherent response.

“Huh?” Okay so maybe ‘coherent’ was pushing it.

The teacher has stopped as well, turned to look at him with slight confusion on her face. That’s rich, given that she’s the one who’s just said something that didn’t make any sense at all.

“Oh,” she says, “just that when your aunt called and said her brother’s lad was going to be taking Phoebe home on the bus today I wasn’t expecting how young you are. My boy is just a little older than you and I couldn’t get him to babysit my sister’s lass if I tried.”

The gears in Jamie’s head slowly start creaking back to life. The math does itself rather quickly, and before he can say anything else, he hears his name shrieked out and then there’s the sound of thudding light-up trainers on the pavement. Jamie barely has the time to crouch down and open his arms before Phoebe has hurtled straight into him, nearly knocking him off balance.

“You’re getting big then, eh, what do they feed you at school, Phoebs, rocks?” he asks, a little winded from the impact and from what the teacher had said. Your cousin. Your aunt. Her brother’s lad.

“No-o-o,” Phoebe giggles, drawing the word out. She bounces out of Jamie’s arms a moment later, never staying still for more than a few moments at a time. They aren’t separated for long, though. A little hand latches onto Jamie’s almost immediately after Phoebe exits the hug and she starts to swing their interlocked fingers enthusiastically. “Can we go home now please? I’m sure Dauphine has missed me terribly while I’ve been away.”

Looking to the teacher, Jamie waits for further instructions from the adult in charge. It surely can’t be that easy to just show up and take a child from school, name and photo on hand or not. He must have to… well, he doesn’t know, but there’s got to be some kind of test. Some kind of ‘will you get this seven year old home in one piece’ test that he’ll have to undergo.

“Off you pop!” says the after-school duty teacher. She smiles at both of them and gives an exaggerated wave that seems like a bit much even for a kid Phoebe’s age. She’s a bright little gremlin, she doesn’t need to be condescended to.

“Right, okay,” Jamie says, blinking at the teacher even as Phoebe starts tugging him by the hand towards the gate. “Uh, thanks,” he calls over his shoulder, then focuses on not falling over his feet or the kid leading the way. “So, you ever taken the bus before?”

“The bus!” From the tone with which she’s exclaimed it, you would think Jamie had just told Phoebe they would be riding home on a pony made of gold. “Oh I love the bus.”

“That’s the attitude, mini-Kent.” It’s an acutely funny thing for a kiddie her age to say, but Jamie focuses on not laughing. He doesn’t want to discourage her interests or whatever. Nothing feels worse when you’re young than someone older than you laughing at you.

Their hands keep swinging between them, and every so often Phoebe adds a little skip into her gait. It makes the lights in her trainers go wild, little yellow and pink stars flashing against the grey of the pavement. She chatters as they go about her day at school, about how she thinks maths is dull and how she and her new best friend Cierra were going to write a comic book together about their cats being best friends and solving crime. Jamie responds where appropriate, humming and nodding and asking questions. He wants for her to know that she’s being listened to, but he would have to admit that his mind isn’t all focused on the proposed adventures of Dauphine and Prime Minister Socks. Instead, he’s still thinking about that teacher’s voice and the way she’d smiled at him when she’d told him it was nice of him to look after his cousin.

Your aunt. Her brother’s lad. Had Sarah said those words exactly? The teacher surely hadn’t invented them out of thin air. They had to come from someplace, and the thought makes Jamie feel warm inside and a little bit shy. He tries to imagine it, to picture what it would have sounded like. Sarah’s voice saying, My nephew, Jamie, he’ll be picking up Phoebe today. Yeah, he’s my brother’s lad. All the way to the bus stop and up the steps onto the bus he thinks of different ways that it could have gone, in-between responding to Phoebe. All of them feel… They feel good. They feel right.

Sure it’s lying and lying isn’t exactly right, but what’s the harm? It’s one teacher at a school Jamie has never been to before and probably will never go to again, this being a one-off fluke of scheduling and convenience. What does it matter if she thinks he’s Sarah’s nephew? Roy’s… Roy’s lad? So what if Jamie likes the idea of someone out there thinking that, even if it isn’t true?

“You’re smiling.”

The observation comes after what Jamie belatedly realizes has been an extended silence from Phoebe. She’s sitting on the bus seat beside Jamie, legs swinging back and forth and his hand clutched in hers. They’d let go for just a moment while Jamie took care of their fares, and then Phoebe had promptly reclaimed her place hanging onto him, which is encouraging as far as her awareness of travel safety goes.

“Am I?” Jamie asks. He’s sure that his face has turned a lovely shade of red, and he only hopes that at least will pass unnoticed.

“Yes, you are,” she confirms, nodding for emphasis. Then, as if to prove her point, Phoebe lets go of his hand just long enough to poke him in the cheek. “You’ve been smiling all the way to the bus. It’s nice. I think you should smile more. I think everybody should smile more, because smiling means you’re happy, and I think everyone should be happy. Except for Walter Lewis who is a mean, mean boy who chased my friend Stephen with a worm on a stick yesterday, so I think he should be sad, and go and live in tarnation.”

“He should go and live in what?” Anything else he could have asked flies promptly out of Jamie’s brain at that completely incomprehensible conclusion. This could be a matter of her knowing things that he didn’t, which is entirely possible, because geography has never been Jamie’s strongest point, or this is about to be a much funnier interaction. If they get to move off of Jamie’s expression before she could get to asking him why he was smiling, all the better.

“Tarnation,” Phoebe says, pronouncing it very deliberately and primly. “That’s what Mister Ted says all the time. What in tarnation, he says, and so it must be a very bad place, because he does not frown very much and he’s always frowning when he says that. So I think Walter Lewis should go and live in tarnation and not be mean to anyone anymore. And he can be sad forever there.” A frown creases her little face as she thinks very hard on it for a moment. “Actually, no, he doesn’t have to be sad forever. That would be terrible, even for Walter Lewis. He should be sad for a while, though. A very, very long time. Like, maybe even until he’s ten. Or until he learns to stop chasing people with worms.”

The effort with which Jamie is not laughing is nothing short of heroic. He takes a few deep breaths, ensures that nothing is going to slip out, and then he tells her, “That seems like a very fair decision. He can live in tarnation and be sad until he’s ten, or until he learns to stop chasing people with worms.”

“Exactly,” Phoebe responds. She nods, a sharp jerk of her chin and a self-satisfied conviction in her face that makes her look very much like Roy. “I’m glad you understand.” Then, in the flip of a moment, as fast as everything seems to change with children her age, Phoebe has let go of Jamie’s hand so that she can slip both arms around his elbow, hugging close to him and pressing the side of her face into his bicep. “I’m so happy you got to come ride the bus with me today, Jamie. Let’s do this again lots of times, okay?”

Jamie finds it suddenly very hard to speak. His throat feels tight and his eyes prickle with heat and he is not going to cry on this fucking bus and definitely not in front of Phoebe Kent and most certainly not because a seven-year-old asked him to hang out with her again.

Nice of you to look after your cousin like this. Your aunt called and said her brother’s lad was going to be taking Phoebe home on the bus today.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, when he’s glad that an entirely new kind of unwanted sound won’t slip out alongside the words. Lifting his arm, Jamie carefully dislodges her grip and wraps it around her shoulders instead, letting Phoebe cuddle in close to his side, even though her swinging feet kick him in the shin every so often. His other hand keeps a firm grasp on her book bag, and he feels both very young and very grown up all at once. “Yeah, I’d like that, too.”

#gav gab #fic: wriggle up on dry land #writing liveblog #im so. cradles them.

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