#then feel free if its what you want to do

[pierregazly]

thinkin' bout you ꨄ lando norris

lando norris x reader

warnings: smut (18+ only), soft!dom lando, a little bit of degradation, lando is a tease [968 words]

request: 🌶 44. “I saw you naked once. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.” Best friend Lando

note: loved this!! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

The groans filled the silence in the room, his body pressed tight against yours, his lips peppering kisses up and down your neck. Your own sighs floating in conjunction with the noises emitting from his body, sweat dripping down your neck as you tilted your head back, desperate for the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.

He knew the exact spots to kiss; the exact spots to scrap his teeth against, to drag his tongue across. One night together, and it felt like he knew your body like the back of his hand. The sighs and whimpers leaving your mouth just simply egged him on, encouraging him. In a sense, teaching him without words.

His grip on your hips never wavered, tightening with every press of his lower body against yours. The tent in his pants so evident, so apparent how you were making him feel, the way his inner conscious wanted you.

“God, the fucking things y’do to me,” he whispered, his teeth tugging at the lobe of your ear as he pulled away to look in your eyes.

His pupils were blown out, his lips red and angry, the small bite marks from your own teeth obvious and inflamed on his neck. Sweat gathered at the top of his forehead, his face flushed.

Lando Norris looked properly aroused. Like one touch of your hand, or your mouth, to the spot he was craving you so desperately; and he would blow. 

It made you want to push yourself closer to him, drop down to your knees and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, beg him to give you what you’ve been yearning for all night long. But you couldn’t break, not that easily. 

You had told him more than once you weren’t here to sleep with him, weren’t here to give him what you knew he wanted. But he knew you like he knew himself, knew exactly what made you tick, knew exactly what would get you going, and keep you running.

His hand resumed its place on your waist, pulling you closer to his body, his lips hovering over yours. You could feel the puffs of breath leaving his mouth, the heat emitting from his body prompting a sweat to break out on your own.

“Y’know, I saw you naked once… and I can’t stop thinking about it,” the grip on your waist tightened, as his lips pressed up your cheek towards your ear.

“Every time I touch my cock, I think about how your pussy wrapped around it. Fuck, I think about those pretty lips of yours wrapped around it, the way you were practically begging for me to cum down your throat. Such a little slut then, weren’t you?”

You felt yourself practically melting at his words, your core pulsing as the pit in your stomach grew. The desire for him growing more and more with every word that dropped from his mouth. It was hard to deny that it wasn’t the same for you, he was all you could think about, all your body desired late at night when moans filtered into the air.

“Why haven’t y’got me naked yet then, Lan? Calling me all this dirty names, but can’t even get me ready, hm?” Taunting him, you waited for the inevitable reaction.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to spin you around, pressing the front of your body up against the wall, your back pressed harshly against his front. You could feel everything about him so much better at this angle, the hardened length still covered by his sweats pressed against your behind, prompting you to grind back into him.

“God, you’re just begging for me to bend you over, aren’t you? Begging for me to tug down these shorts and see how soaked you are, cause I know you’re just dripping for me. So dirty, darling.”

Shuddering at his words, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand when no witty response fell from your lips. 

“Y’gonna get naked for me now, pretty girl? Or do I have to do all the work around here?” He tugged on the bottom of your shirt, gesturing for you to lift your arms so he could remove the piece of clothing from your body.

With your back still pressed against his front, you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. Lando’s hands ghosting up your body until he had both in his palms, his fingers gently pinching and tugging at the pebbled buds. 

“Been thinking about these every night, my tongue swirling around them in my dreams has woken me up more nights than I care to admit,” he murmured in your ear, an extra pinch to one causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Bet if I stuck my hand inside these shorts of yours, m’fingers would come back soaked - wouldn’t they? Answer me,” he enunciated his demand with an extra pinch of his fingers, your back arching into him.

You reluctantly nodded your head, the need coursing through your body overpowering the stubbornness to keep him at bay.

“Use your words, baby,” his hand began to stroke down your stomach, thumbing at the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside.

“Please, Lan. I need you, so bad. I’m so wet for you.”

The words spurred him on, his hand pushing all the way inside your shorts, running a single digit through your wet heat. It didn’t stay there long, his hand leaving your shorts only seconds later, a whine falling from your lips as they did.

You turned to watch him bring the finger up to his lips, sucking off the wetness that coated them.

“Think it’s time for you to get on the bed, baby. I need to see you naked, now.”

this is like BARELY smut but it's still naughty!!! so it still counts!! hope y'all love it

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 smut #smut #f1 one shot #f1 blurb #lando norris blurb #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #f1 #f1 fic #my writing #writing #blurb

[sukunas-wife]

What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽

~🪽

I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍

(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎

Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.

It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.

“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.

—- —- —- —- —-

The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.

He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.

—- —- —- —- —-

Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”

You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”

You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”

Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.

“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all

He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”

—- —- —- —- —-

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.

”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.

Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”

The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.

When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”

Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”

Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakunawifey @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

#sukunas wife #sukunas wife speaks #🤍mail time #daddy sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna x reader #jjk anime #sukuna x you #sukunation #jjk sukuna ryomen #sukuna x wife reader #soft sukuna #sukunas wife’s ask #yuji and mom reader #dadkuna #sukuna nation #jjk ryomen sukuna #son yuji #sukuna fluff #yuji x mom reader #son yuji mom reader #dad sukuna son yuji #Sukuna and daughter #Sukuna’s daughter #sukuna with a daughter #daddy kuna #dad sukuna

[aajjks]

Blurred Lines (m)

synopsis: the lines are blurring- you’re forbidden but he has to have a taste.

paring. soft!yan best friend!jk x Reader

warnings. yändêrê,, flüff, obsèssïvè thöüghts, lôvèsïck jk, DÏRTY thöüghts,, Jungköök is sö nöt pürè LMÁÔ büt wbk.

note. heh. ENJOY AND SEND ASKS FOR HIMMMM ILY GUYS.

DO NOT ROMANTACISE THIS BEHAVIOUR AND I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL AND THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL AND THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT BTS OR JUNGKOOK AS A PERSON.

You’re the one he loves and maybe he’s too late to realise it, you’re singles, yes. But he just got out of a great relationship and you’d never date your best friend.

An angel that was sent in jungkooks dark, plain life to light it up with its radiatingly angelic existence. before you, it was all dark and smoky around him, the constant chaos, bad relationships and gleaming was starting to taint his entire life but then you were always there…

His savior, his salvation. His best friend, YN LN. yes, his YN, the girl of his dreams. Jungkook loves you so fucking much. His love for you is indescribable. Really, he is so devoted to you, but being your devotee was the least he was doing...you were a goddess, you deserved someone better than him.

A lot better, pure. Jungkook knew that he didn’t deserve you, you are like a forbidden fruit that’s so tempting to taste.

Becoming your best friend was a start...for something more...way more that jungkook craved so much. But… he never dared to cross the line, and then Dakhyung came.

He tried to suppress his emotions and feelings for you, how could he love you, his best friend.

But the truth is..

Jungkook is in love with you, his best friend. he has been loving you. His world revolves around you. the most random things you talk about are so lovely to hear...your voice is so soothing.

It soothes jungkooks inner demon that threats to come out and take over him. the one that’s so into you.

Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N and Y/N.

Maybe his interest in you was partly responsible for her cheating on him.. maybe, she didn’t like you.. her loss.

“Kookie!!” Jungkook blinks, Finally pulled back to reality. He tilted his head to look at you, and his mind goes blank.

God, you are so pretty, so fucking beautiful. You are a masterpiece, God’s greatest creation, God’s biggest masterpiece. “KOOKIE!”

“Y-Yes!?” This time a soft smile finds its way to his lips and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment. “yes YN?” You huff in annoyance. “What are you thinking so deeply about, kook. I’ve been calling you for the last 17 minutes.” If it was even possible, his cheeks felt more heated.

if only you kn- “got a crush or something kook? Or thinking about the bitch?”

You interrupt the trail of his thoughts once again. he looks up at you in surprise, his dark doe eyes wide with his mouth agape.

“Fuck Dakhyung.” He refers to his now ex girlfriend. He hates her, to be fair he never loved her, the relationship was rushed, she wanted to be with him and… he was too scared to ask you out.

Dumb move.

But then she cheated on him, what a whore.

“w-what?!” he stutters, his heart threatening to explode in his chest. “What, What kook. A crush. Perhaps you have a crush since you’re so distracted these days...” on your face was a mischievous smile that made him scared.

But she really did him a favour by freeing him.

what if you knew? did his friend tell you? that fucker— “w-why do you think I-I have a crush? How’d you know... Yn.” Jungkook looked everywhere but at you.

“I just got cheated on yn!”

now, don’t get jungkook wrong. He loves you a lot...like it was probably unhealthy. But he hated just how smart you were.

But then again, it is also so hot.

Jungkook shakes his head at his lewd thoughts. Now was not the time. Jungkook liftes his head up to see you so close to his face.

eeeeekkk!

“Y-Y-Yn!!! W-What are you doing!?” With your face so close to his, jungkooks breath hitches in his throat. you really are Gods most magnificent creation. and...

you smell so fucking good. peachy, his favorite scent. “jungkooooookie is innnn looooveee!~” the way your mouth moves was so attractive, your lips were so plump.

So pink and glossy, his mouth was salivating at the sight. nice lipgloss.

Damn your glossy pretty lips.

what does it taste like? Oh he desperately he wishes he could know. His gaze is set on your lips as he forces his frozen mind to think logically.

No! Jungkook is not a pervert. You are pure. He inhales loudly while scolding himself mentally.

Now. is. not. the. time. jungkook.

He closes his eyes and gulpes. These thoughts are haunting, how would your lips feel against his? your soft skin would be heaven to touch…

Just look at you.

stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop— fuck it.

“Y/N can i kiss you?”

maybe he isn’t as pure as he thought.

#jungkook x reader #yandere bts #jungkook smut #bts smut #jjk smut #yandere jjk #yandere jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook imagine #jjk imagines #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere boy #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jungkook fluff #Jungkook imagines #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeongguk smut #jeongguk x reader #kpop fluff #kpop smut

[beejunos]

UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader | PART 2

Summary: After your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby, will you be able to mend your relationship?

This is PART 2. Part 1 can be found here.

This is the continuation of @lustylita's wonderful idea, which can be found here. I just had the pleasure of writing it. I hope you enjoy the end of our little story!

Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, some angst

The relationship between you and Alastor had taken a sharp turn for the worse. What used to be a strained but neutral relationship was now strained, uncomfortable, and awkward at best. You found yourself doing everything in your power to avoid him whenever possible.

Each time you and Alastor coincided in a room, a surge of panic would engulf you. The urgency to escape the impending unbearable awkwardness was so tangible it left a metallic taste in your mouth. You would hastily concoct an excuse, no matter how feeble, to flee the scene. The same sense of panic would grip you if he happened to enter a room you were already in.

As you made your hasty retreat, you made a point to never meet his gaze. You were acutely aware that if you did, you would be confronted with the pained expression on his face behind the mask he liked to present to the world, a sight that would be unbearable. Despite Alastor's adeptness at concealing his emotions, you could now sense his anguish from the shadow he cast.

It was something you never anticipated. You never thought you'd harbour any kind of affection towards the man. Yet, after the end of your relationship with Alastor's Shadow, it felt like going through a tumultuous breakup with him. The pain of it all left you feeling raw, vulnerable, and insecure as if a part of you had been stripped bare of dignity and reason. You were left feeling smaller than you really were, with a heavy weight on your shoulders that dragged you down. As if everything was your fault. 

But you had never known about Alastor's feelings for you. You didn't even know when his affection for you had begun and why he had buried them so deep within his heart that his shadow had to break free to soothe its ache. Only when his shadow broke free did you realise the extent of his emotions and how deep they ran.

The days felt like they had grown longer and lost all their colour without the presence of Alastor's shadow. Hollow and lifeless. Whilst you could argue all you wanted with yourself that it was the shadow that you wanted and not the man, the reality was that the shadow was the man. 

They were not separate. They were one.

To love one was to love the other. 

What ... love?!

Pain can be subjective, just like any emotion, but that does not diminish its impact on one's life. The heart will make itself known to the mind whether the mind wants to know or not, but sooner or later, the heart will make the mind yield to the pain, the longing, and the wanting just to get a moment of peace. 

And that's where you were right now, at the door where your heart had broken down, letting the reality of your emotions spill at your feet. A door it begged you to walk through, but you were scared. You were a coward. For Alastor saw you through his darkness, his shadow, and you saw him through his. 

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.  

It had been 23 days since your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby. When he had branded you with a kiss that still burned. Marking you with a curse that tore your heart out and poisoned your mind. Longing for the time when it had been just you and Alastor's shadow, but now all your memories of the shadows had been replaced with the man himself. Giving you a genuine smile that only your eyes were allowed to see. To be given the privilege, the trust, to see him. To see the man and not the sinner. To see the soul and not the demon.

Everyone longs for love, no matter what form love comes in, longing for companionship. Trust. Strong arms to fall into with hands that could hold us up when our legs can't bear the burden anymore. And you knew that Alastor could be the arms you wished to fall into, but did he still want to fall into yours?  

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.

The door to Alastors room felt like the doors to an impenetrable fortress. A domain that used to reek of him but now lured you with promises you longed for but feared as well. 

With your crossword puzzle in hand, you counted down from five to zero before lifting your shaking fist and knocking on the door softly. A part of you hoped that he wasn't there so you could run back down to the lobby and forget that you had ever had this stupid idea. The idea of mending your relationship. 

However, you were not so lucky, for Alastor soon opened the door. His smile twitched as his eyes fixed on you, and if you weren't imagining things, you thought you heard a soft chirping sound behind him.

"Yes?" Those were the first words he had uttered to you in 23 days. The only words you had allowed him to say to you in 23 days. 

Swalloing the stone in your throat, you let out in a rushed ramble:

"Canyouhelpmewithmycrossword?"

"I'm sorry?"  

"My crossword," you said, trying not to have a shaky voice, "can you help me with a clue? I can't figure it out."

You held out your newspaper with the crossword to him, pointing at the specific clue you had in mind. In reality, you had already figured it out 30 minutes ago, but Alastor didn't need to know that. He looked from you down to the newspaper, then back up at you again. His eyebrow raised. 

"Very well," was all he said as he looked down at the newspaper and the clue again, but by bending down, you now had his head right beside yours. You wondered if his big ears meant he could hear better and if he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest. Could he hear how it called out to him? How it had howled at your mind to let him back into your life again.

"The answer is Erato, the muse," answered Alastor and straightened up again.

"Oh, right. That makes sense," and that was when you remembered that Erato wasn't just any muse, but a muse whose name meant desire, and never had you desired for the smallest of touch from another before. Looking down at his lips, so red and soft, knowing what they had felt like on your cheek but maybe never getting the chance to touch them again was torture. 

"Was there anything else?"

Like a record scratch, you were hurled back into reality, looking back up at Alastor, who was studying you intensely. This is where your mind won over your heart, and you became a coward again. 

"No! Thank you for the help!" you practically screamed as you stiffly stormed down the hallway, away from the sinner who closed the door to his domain, and you wondered if it was painful to die. 

Work was slowly killing you, and it was not a pleasurable experience. Buried in paperwork, you had been staring at a document for the past half hour without really taking in the information. No matter how many times you would re-read the document, the words made less sense as you kept reading. Blurring together in one big mess that drained you of all your energy, the clock had not even struck 09:00 yet. 

Overwhelmed, you buried your face in your hands, your body leaning on the desk for support. You wondered how you were going to make it through the day if it continued at this excruciatingly slow pace. 

After a slight knocking, the door swung open, and someone entered your office. 

"Not now, Charlie," you said softly so as not to offend without looking up, "I told you I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me." 

However, no answer came, and when you looked up, you realised that it wasn't Charlie who had come knocking at your door again but Alastor, who was holding your favourite cup in his hand and a bag in the other.  

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," you said and began to stand up, but you slowly dropped down when Alastor walked over to your desk and sat down your cup. The smell of coffee filled your office and the mere thought of having that sweet beverage filled you with delight. Beside the cup, Alastor put down the brown bag he had held, and you instantly recognised the logo of the bakery from across town that you loved so much. 

As you looked at the bag, you felt a sudden jolt of surprise that made your body shake. You raised your gaze to Alastor, who was standing in front of you, and then back to the bag. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through you as you thought about the blueberry muffin that was waiting inside. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel wanted. What a wonder that such a small thing could make you feel so special and warm on the inside. 

That warmth was something you hadn't felt in a long time. Ever since Alastor's shadow stopped visiting your office, you had felt incredibly lonely. You missed the little conversations you used to have with him and the way he always seemed to know just what to do to make you feel better. You even found it hard to go to the bakery and get your muffin in the morning because it made you feel too alone for your liking.

But now, as you had the bag in front of you, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally starting to look up again. Maybe Alastor was back in your life for good, and you could once again look forward to those little moments of happiness that made your day a little brighter. 

"I... thank you, Alastor. I greatly appreciate it." Your heart skipped a beat when Alastor looked down at you and gave you a small, genuine smile. 

"You're welcome, my dear," he said softly as he turned to leave your office. His demeanour was calm and collected, yet you could sense a certain warmth and friendliness in his voice.

"Have you seen the roses yet?" the words rushed out of you before you could hold yourself back, too desperate for his company now that you had gotten it back. 

"Pardon?" asked Alastor without turning around to look at you fully. His hands were resting on his microphone cane. 

"The roses, in the garden. They've bloomed, almost all of them. They're... they're breathtaking. You should see them." Your knee started to nervously bounce under your desk as sweat began to gather in your palms. The man had managed to render you a nervous wreck so fast, his presence alone stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. 

"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'll make sure to walk around the garden on my break today. I can imagine that they are lovely." 

Thinking this was the end of the conversation, you turned back to your dreadfully dull documents.

"Would you care to join me?" asked Alastor, his soft yet hesitant voice making your heart skip a beat. It was as if the air around you had suddenly become charged with an unspoken tension, making you wonder if he was nervous as well.  

"In the garden?"

"Yes." 

"I... I would love to." 

"Wonderful. I'll come to get you around twelve if that works for you."

"Great! I look forward to it."

As he walked out, you couldn't help but sit back in your chair and take a deep breath. You felt a sense of relief and contentment, knowing that Alastor still seemed to want to try a new connection—something new and unexplored. You picked up your coffee and took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through your body. Alastor had managed to wake the butterflies within you again with a single act of kindness.  

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Your and Alastor's relationship had improved immensely over the week. However, there was just this little problem that kept bugging you. Alastor had not touched you in any way, not even laid his hand on your shoulder or offered his arm when the both of you had walked through the rose garden. While this wasn't uncommon, you rarely saw him really touch anyone in the hotel except for the odd pat on the head, but his shadow had been so physically affectionate that you yearned for the intimacy of it all. 

While not overly affectionate, the shadow had not hesitated to hold your hand or rest on your shoulders. It wasn't that you wanted to carry Alastor on your back, but the simple act of holding hands seemed like a distant dream. 

You sank deeper into the sofa in the hotel lobby as you glanced at the deer demon sitting by the fireplace above your newspaper—your crossword puzzle long forgotten. Alastor was sitting cross-legged with a book in one hand and a glass of rye whisky in the other, silently humming to the song he played from the antique radio he had summoned, and for some reason, you thought that he had never looked more attractive.

Satan's sweaty balls, you used to party every weekend and only come home after you had tried every type of alcohol the club had to offer, and now you were in love with a sinner whose favourite pastime was listening to jazz while drinking whisky. Your younger self would have hated what you had become, but in the present, you felt a deep sense of contentment, wanting nothing more than to have a quiet evening with Alastor, where he would read out loud to you from his book in front of the fire with your head in his lap, listening to jazz.

Angel Dust shouted a loud good night and started to walk up the stairs to his room after another hour had passed. Charlie and Vaggie, who had been sitting by the dining table and doing a jigsaw puzzle, were the next ones who left the lobby. Charlie's good night was barely audible because of how much she was yawning. The last one to leave the lobby was Husk, who you knew stayed longer than he usually did just so he could keep an eye on you. You quickly shot him a meaningful glaze, trying to tell him that everything was fine, which he seemed to understand. 

"Night," grunted Husk as he started to walk up the stairs. 

"Good night, Husk!" you shouted back, grateful that you and Alastor had some more time alone. That is if you actually dared to do anything. 

The chance to change the mood was almost too good, too romantic for you to think clearly. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do. You could ask him about his day, but that felt too predictable. You could ask him about his book, but what if the book is boring and you can't make the conversation sexy? Would he even like that? He was flirty in a very subtle and charming way, but would he like it if you took a more direct approach? 

Without knowing it, you had spent all your time thinking of all the things you could do with Alastor now that you were alone with him that you completely lost track of time. It wasn't until he closed his book and stood up that you were pulled away from your thoughts back into the present. 

"Well, it is getting quite late. Sweet dreams, my dear." 

Panicking again like he so often made you do, you blurted out the first thing you could think of to make him stay. 

"Do you know the dance foxtrot?" You fucking idiot, of all the things you could have asked, why did you ask that?!

Alastor turned to you while raising a brow, and even if he looked at you with a curious gaze, you could not help but feel like the biggest fool in all of Hell. You used to be smooth when flirting and look at yourself now.

"I do. Why do you ask, my dear?" 

There was no backing down anymore, so you took a deep breath, cheeks and ears burning, and confessed;

"I've always wanted to try it! I've seen others dancing it, I even know the moves, but I've never had anyone to dance with." 

In the blink of an eye, the music on the radio changed from a soft and slow jazz song to one with a more precise and faster beat. Alastor bent down and left his book on his chair before he walked over to you. 

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a mischievous smile. 

Not caring anymore about dialling down your excitement, you gave him the biggest smile as you took his hand. Letting him pull you off the sofa. His hand was warm and soft, sending tingles up your arm as he gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles. 

As Alastor pulled you towards him, he quickly established that he would lead the dance. With your hand on his shoulder and his between your shoulder blades, he pushed you into the first step of the foxtrot. The rhythm of the music began to take over, and he started to spin you around the empty hotel lobby. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the wind rushing against your skin as you twirled around and around. 

As he spun you, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt like the only person in the world as you looked deep into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. It was a look you didn't see often, but sometimes, when it was only you and him, you could catch a glimpse of a softer look from Alastor. A look that made the butterflies in your stomach make loops in excitement. It was a look that made you feel cherished and admired, and it was a feeling unlike any other. 

The dance seemed to last forever, and you didn't want it to end. You felt free and alive, and you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget. 

When the song came to an end, a new song began directly after it. This one is slower than its predecessor, one that you couldn't necessarily dance the foxtrot to, for it was a song that called for a type of slow dancing. 

Without hesitation, Alastor pulled you closer towards him as his hand moved from between your shoulder blades down your back. Leaving a trail of fire under your skin as his hand pulled you closer to him after it stopped in the middle of your back. 

None of you said anything but continued slowly dancing to the music on the radio. His red eyes, heavy-lidded, looked deep into yours as he slowly dipped down and kissed your lips.

Happy 'burn a big ass bonfire so the witches who are flying to the devil's party fly into the bonfire instead' day, everyone! (If you can guess which country I'm from, from that, I'll be really impressed)

Taglist for the part 2: @littledolly2345 @slytherin4ever @wendds @beelz3bub @adamwarlockislife-blog @ilikemyteawithmilk @cherry-cola-100 @xia21 @rae-pottah @xsoftdead18 @arrozyfrijoles23 @maulsgf

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor x reader angst #hazbin hotel alastor x reador angst #hazbin hotel angst

[riki-dazed]

Pretty boy

NSFW smut · masturbation, dry humping · wc: 823

Perched atop Riki's thighs, you feel the warmth of his bare skin against your own exposed flesh. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you take in the sight below you, a rush of anticipation causing your breath to catch in your throat.

With his gaze fixed on yours, Riki's attention remains unwavering as he continues working on himself, the rhythm of his wrist's movements gaining momentum as each second ticks by.

You watch, transfixed, as he becomes beautifully fucked out beneath you, unable to tear your eyes away from his swollen, parted lips. Riki's brows twist in pure ecstasy, and as his panting intensifies, your name begins to twist itself amongst his whines for you.

Having you watch Riki attend to his own needs stirs something within him, every single time. A string of hissed curses fall out of his lips as he remains unfazed by any sense of shame.

With a smile finding its way across your lips, your fingertips begin to graze along the skin on his abdomen, your hands itching to replace his own.

"You're doing so well, my pretty boy."

Your words of praise only add fuel to the burning fire, that is Riki's mind, and its desires.

The eye contact between the both of you alone is almost enough to send you over the edge untouched, yet you manage to keep it together. You want to enjoy this moment to the fullest, especially considering that its been a while since you've had some alone time with your boyfriend like this.

He reaches his free hand out to you, thumb itching between your folds. Your mouth falls slightly open, the pressure of his thumb finally pressing against your clit causes you to see stars.

He groans, the realisation of how you're almost dripping for him leaves the boy almost dizzy.

"So fucking wet—"

Riki continues to get himself off, the feeling of your soaked core against his touch bringing him closer towards the edge. His touches are light, and playful. You know he's toying with you; he's enjoying himself way too much.

Your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping him in place, as you can't help but start grinding against his fingertips. Your neediness to also get off causes a smirk to play on his smug features.

"Not yet, Riki— not yet," He chants incoherently to himself. His eyes soon shut closed as the grasp he has around his length falters.

After a few more strokes, he abruptly pulls his other hand away from your core, causing you to elicit a whimper at the sudden loss of contact. Though, his hands shift to gripping at your waist. Understanding his silent request, you adjust your position accordingly.

Now, you find yourself straddling his pulsing length, in which rests against his abdomen.

"Fuck," he breathes at the contact, "Fuck, Y/n—"

You rest your hands on Riki's toned chest before you begin to grind down onto him, the slickness between your folds facilitating smooth movements as you slide back and forth. He rests his hands on either sides of your hips, gently guiding your motions.

Riki's in a state of pure bliss. "Just— fuck. Just like that."

You set a needy, fast pace. You know it's not going to take a lot for you to reach your high, not with how badly you've needed a release this entire time. Judging by the way Riki's fingers are digging into the skin on your hips, and the way whines of your name are escaping his lips, suggest that he too is on the brink of a climax.

Sighing blissfully, you lean downwards, your chest meeting his. You find yourself leaving a soft peck on his nose as your eyes find his hooded gaze, "Are you close?"

Riki hums in response, confirming what you already knew. Your mouth engulfs his, swallowing him in a passionate embrace.

Snaking his arms around your back, Riki pulls you into a tight hug against his torso. The warmth radiating off his skin clashes with yours, in which sends you into a complete, and utter trance. Although you've lost your range of motion, it's the last thing in your mind at this current moment. You take a second to just lay on him, trying to catch your breath, as he continues to grind up against you.

A tired, deep chuckle leaves the back of Riki's throat as his hands move down your back, settling upon your ass. He can tell you're slowly running out of energy.

You sink your teeth into his smooth shoulder, tracing the skin with your tongue. His groans echo directly into your ear, and you realise that there's no way you can keep it in any longer.

Not after that.

Riki's voice is barely above a whisper as he nips at your ear,

"Come for me."

#nishimura riki #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen #niki smut #niki imagines #enha x reader #riki-dazed #niki scenarios #niki x reader #riki imagines #riki smut #enhypen riki #enhypen niki #enhypen scenarios #enha #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

[usereddie]

hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.

hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.

“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”

Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it. 

“Him being queer?”

“I think he identifies as bisexual.”

“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”

“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”

“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”

He sits. 

Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal. 

A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl. 

But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch. 

“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.” 

“But you knew?” 

“I wasn’t surprised.”

He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him. 

Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel. 

Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is. 

He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t. 

It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—

Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be. 

“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him. 

“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly. 

He swallows. 

“Yeah.”

Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself. 

He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—

Well. 

Buck. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it. 

Buck came out and it uncovered itself. 

Buck is bi. Buck dates men. 

Buck could date him. And he isn’t.

That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck. 

He makes him so fucking happy. 

Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression. 

Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing. 

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly. 

“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”

“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“That’s not my place to tell you.”

“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s exhale is shaky. 

“Yeah. Me, too.” 

#bia.fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

Summary: When you go to ask Captain Levi for a promotion, it's important to remain humble. Author note: I've had this idea for so long... this had been collecting dust in my computer for SO LONG. Because I wanted it to be hot and dirty like the underground's air but at the same time I was scared that it was a "bit" too much. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Top Levi Ackerman, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, MP reader, Levi x MP reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Cigarrettes, Smoking, Alcohol, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Oral sex, DUBCON, Bondage, Breathplay. Word count: 12k words of pure porn. You had been warned lmao HONESTLY, JUST BECAUSE I MANAGED TO EDIT this long ass post in the tumblr editor I DESERVE A LIKE AND A REBLOG (jk... but if you want its not a joke)

The agonizing rubatosis, mixed with the upsetting silence, creates a disconcerting atmosphere. Frowned eyebrows, eyes closed, cold feet rubbing over each other, and itchy underwear contribute to the discomfort. A deep breath in, count to 4, hold it for 7, and exhale slowly, counting to 8. Fists tighten, jaw clenches, and breathing becomes agitated.

‘Should I?’

Shea butter and vanilla penetrate her senses, smoothing legs that perfectly align, having been meticulously shaved. Not a single rough patch of skin, not a single hair, not a single cell left unmoistened. The hair conditioner matched the body lotion, nails painted a deep shade of red. Lips glide smoothly over each other thanks to the reddish gloss, creating a subtle plumping effect. The darkness enveloped her; hair spread on the pillow, eyelashes curved and painted a deep shade of black, with mascara perfectly in place. Blushed cheeks, radiant skin, softly glittering eyes, enhanced with brown pencil. Self-performed surgeon work, like an architect drawing up plans.

Reflective, slightly darker lips create the illusion of being kissed. Rosy cheeks mimic arousal. Uncomfortable underwear, but a perfect frame for her body. Subtly enhanced eyes for a pleasing view from the top. Everything is calculated, makeup that doesn’t look like makeup, intentionally tousled hair. She couldn’t recall the last time she put this much effort into her appearance for someone else. Usually, she dressed up for herself or her friends. A guy? Never, as far as she could remember.

All the to-do list’s lines had been checked except for one. The last item on her mental list was ‘Do you dare?’

Did she, though? Did she dare to slide her bare, smooth legs across the sheets, touch the cold floor, sneak through the corridors, slip inside through the creaked door, wait in the gloom with only one candle at the kitchen during late hours, hoping the collected info was real, and perhaps, only perhaps, see him appear through the door?

The place was ridiculously silent; she could hear her own feet against each other, her nervous tapping nails. Scouts followed rules, always doing what they were told, unlike the MPs. Even in the deep of night, you could hear everything—people making deals, cadets sneaking out, higher-ups taking cadets for personal parties. It was as if, the moment curfew started, another world began. Mixing that with the streets of the capital that never slept, the constant babble in the background. However, that wasn’t the scouts’ reality, and maybe that’s why she hated sleeping there so much. Somehow, she had gotten used to the sleepwalker city, and its ceaseless mutter became her lullaby.

After the retake of Wall Maria, after the coronation of the new queen Historia, life inside the walls changed drastically, especially in the military. New uniforms, universally appreciated in black, and the roles within the military became more ambiguous. MPs were still MPs, but they also contributed to the advances of new constructions, the displacement of new citizens to the reclaimed lands, and everyone learned how to use the new anti-person 3DMG.

Life was improving, or so many decided to believe. The scouts, almost eradicated after they took Wall Maria, saw an increase in their ranks. Transfers happened more than ever, and their salaries went from being the worst to the personal favourite military brand of the queen. Promotions were granted based on performance, sacrifice, and meritocracy—a notion she found irritatingly noble. Out of pettiness, boredom, or perhaps jealousy.

Extra-curricular activities? Even before she graduated from the trainee lines, she was in the top ten of her class, with excellent behaviour and military antecedents. Reports from citizens praised her attention and willingness to help. Double-checking almost everything. Therefore, explain why she had been rejected for a promotion so many times in the last years. The simple answer: anything in the MPs was about contacts and money, even as life inside the walls changed.

There was always an excuse—someone else deserved it better, a son of someone else got a spot that was rightfully hers, a green cadet got it simply because he was a man, and she clearly wasn’t. She wouldn’t lie and say that her desire to join the scouts had always been there. As a single daughter of a single mother, her wishes had always been to provide for her, to help her around. The day she could make her old mother stop working with her MP’s salary had been her happiest day.

Discussing it with her friend as they delivered provisions to the lines working on the train’s rails, not seeking help, but rather complaining in confidentiality. Concentrated so deeply in her venting that she didn’t notice how her friend remained quiet for a split second and then interrupted her with a cheerful smirk.

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

It caught her off guard, involuntarily making her want to check. “DON’T TURN!” her friend almost screamed. The idea felt bizarre, not because she wasn’t confident in her looks—she was hot as hell, and nobody could tell her otherwise. But… Captain Levi? From the Special Operation Squad? THE Captain Levi who had led the Uprising? Humanity’s Strongest Soldier? … That Captain Levi? Then, she gave it a second thought, slightly shaking her head.

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

“I SWEAR, you bent, and he checked you,”

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

“No, you idiot. I mean yes, but not what I’m trying to say,” she corrected herself. “He just… I’ve never even heard about him with any girl, anyone to be more precise.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” her friend said, grabbing a box and starting to walk away, “but I know what I saw.”

Superiors and higher ranks checking her out, catcalling, perhaps even touching without permission? UFF, the military was full of them, even when she was much younger. However, Captain Levi could be an antisocial, stoic little jerk, but it had never struck her as those types of men. Always so uptight, correct, stoic, disinterested. There was a rumour circulating that perhaps… and only perhaps, he wasn’t particularly fond of women. A few female soldiers had tried to show their interest during military hangouts, and none of them had been successful. Considering military men’s pent-up frustration, that was very odd behaviour.

If there’s a rumour that spreads faster than what happens in someone’s sheets, it’s the lack of activity in those sheets. Captain Levi seemed to be on the other spectrum of the rumours. He definitely wasn’t a womanizer, and if he was one, what a smooth criminal he was. Not a single victim had been known.

“You know what would give you that promotion?” The administrative higher-up enlightened her after another unsuccessful raise in her salary. Her resentful eyes admired the boy, easily seven years younger than her, getting a spot because his father was a military member too. Her tired stare moved slowly back to her front, silently waiting for the pointless information to be given to her. A better cover letter? CV? Extra hours? Non-paid internships in other divisions? What?

“A recommendation from someone important.”

The red lips of the administrative staff moved slowly. If Y/N squinted a bit, she would have been able to hear the indirect suggestion. Between women, softly getting closer so the secretary could whisper without being heard. Glasses pushed down the nose bridge, and Y/N drew closer to hear the secret.

“You know, the scouts are making a big impact around here lately. Think about it.”

The words accumulate on her throat; her lips trembled, but nothing aside from indecipherable sounds left her mouth, frowning slightly at the idea.

“Think about it,” the woman repeated. “You won’t be the first girl, dear, and I guarantee you won’t be the last one.”

The wisdom that came with age and serving the military's paperwork for so many years must have given the woman enough knowledge to suggest it so plainly. What she hated the most? She had been considering it badly; she needed the money; she wanted the promotion. What was the difference between some stupid daddy's boy licking the boots of his higher-up for the position than this?

The boldest side of her mind insisted that she had slept with ex-boyfriends who were less attractive, less influential, and definitely less clean than Captain Levi. Yes, Captain Levi, because if she was doing this, she was going big or going home. Not some random newly promoted squad leader or anything. Those were the other options at the scout after they got almost eradicated—purely freshly adults. Her mind tried to convince herself of an easier target, like Jean perhaps, but she gagged at the idea. ‘He’s a baby, barely 18.’

For a split second, she wished Commander Erwin was alive. Never met him; she hadn’t even talked to him, but the blond seemed like an easier target somehow. Was it because people had talked about a chick or two that he took to his hotel’s room after parties? Maybe.

‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ pondering around the idea, like a friend encouraging you to confess to the boy you have a crush on. “You already got the no, go for the yes!” they would say, but this wasn’t silly girlish crushes.

‘That he says no and thinks of you as some cheap-ass whore.’

No, this wasn’t a crush. It was plain transactional.

‘Well… not like Captain Levi had ever looked over to me as if he had me in any sort of high esteem to begin with.’

Back to the beginning. They had ordered her to help around the Scout’s facilities as they developed the new train station around Paradise, and as soon as those orders had reached her ears, the plan was rolling. ‘Now… or never.’

Battle dress on: short loose shorts, a loose shirt that barely covered her belly, and her fanciest lingerie underneath. Captain Levi always made himself a cup of tea late at night to carry on with paperwork. Her military’s trajectory to secure the objective was: leave her bed, go there, and hope that her glossy lips and glittery eyes would do the trick. This was far from what she was used to, and what had boosted her confidence earlier that day to get ready had easily dripped away. Leaving her tied up to her bed as an external force that incapacitated her from doing it.

‘He’s not your higher-up; he can’t fire you directly.’

‘But what if he does?’

‘He’s probably small and will last a couple of minutes with luck; it’s easy as cake.’

‘What if he tells someone?’

‘You got nothing to lose and a lot to win.’

‘Everybody does something to scale in the MPs; no amount of extra work and good behaviours would get you anywhere. Think about what you could buy with that promotion.’

Tiptoes on the ground, a deep sigh, hands on the edge of the mattress pushing her up, calculated steps on the wood planks that didn’t squeak, palm against the edge of the door to close it without making a sound, single candle in her grip waiting for her to reach the kitchen to turn it on, non-existing hairs raising on her legs due to the coldness of the halls, curious eyes checking over her shoulder as she reached the kitchen, candle on, kettle on the fire, speech ready.

‘Now… are you going to show up, Captain?’

The flame of the candle flickered in the night air. She had heated the water multiple times, taking the kettle off the stove before it boiled, resting it on the countertop, and once it cooled, returning it to the fire. The script had been prepared, written, and practiced in her mind. However, the main participant in this story, her co-star, had not made his triumphant appearance.

First, she waited in a poised position, then faced the door while resting her weight on the countertops. After an hour and a half, the cold had crept up on her, fighting and winning against the burning heat of the nerves, leaving her shivering. Bent over the countertops with her eyes fixed on the kettle, she seemed disinterested, disappointed, and tired.

Her hand covered her mouth in a loud yawn. Once the anxiety had subsided, tiredness set in—slow blinks, head buried between her arms on the table, eyes still fixed on the kettle. It was right there, on the fire, still with time to boil. "You're going to burn the whole place down," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

That snapped her back from her reverie. It was evident that her mind had conjured a realistic dream because the kettle she was supposed to be watching had been removed from the fire, with a cloth covering the handle, and placed on the countertop, far from her reach to prevent burns. Steam billowed loudly from it, whistling in the stillness of the night.

Standing up, she froze in place, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process what she was witnessing. The first few buttons of his grey shirt were undone, and he wore black trousers of the uniform, but no boots. Although his slippers didn't match the scene, his exhaustion was unmistakable. There he stood, as stoic and unfriendly as ever: Captain Levi, with rolled-up sleeves, removing the kettle from the fire and clicking his tongue as he turned off the gas.

Facing away from her, he seemed as indifferent as if she were just another countertop in the kitchen. Her nails softly scraped her arms as she pondered whether to press further, take the hint, or if she was simply cold, hence why she ran her hands up and down her arms. The muscles of his back contracted and moved, the V-shaped shadow down his spine emphasized his broad shoulders and defined waist. His rolled-up sleeves made her admire his porcelain skin, catching the light in particular shapes as some of his forearm hair shimmered under the candlelight.

While the slippers detracted slightly from the uniform, diminishing the powerful feeling, she had to admit, upon deeper thought, that the tight black trousers of his new uniform were incredibly appealing. Despite his short stature, Captain Levi was a fine specimen of a man. The subtle notion that perhaps scouts, with their heavy training, gather a couple of points from the MPs in that department. After all, MPs hardly bothered to train beyond the obligatory, which was very little.

Slightly turning to his right, locking eyes with her with an unapproachable demeanour, hand on hip, he questioned, "Dare to explain what you're doing breaking curfew, cadet? Do you want to jeopardize us all with your incompetence"

The first part of her plan was to improvise. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she thought about saying, but how could she claim that after sleeping over the countertop? His grey eyes, almost cat-like, hunted her in the dark, and suddenly, she felt her legs tremble. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him now that she had him up close, alone, in the middle of the night.

Her lips, still glossy, parted in doubt as she mumbled uneasily, "I…" She wanted to come up with a new excuse, but quickly realized she wasn’t cut out for this, for the whole charade. "I have a headache," she finally managed.

His face remained unreadable, uninterested eyes glued to her, judging her, waiting for her to break under his scrutiny, like a mother who knows you’re lying, allowing a brief moment of silence for a confession before taking matters into her own hands. But Y/N stayed resolute, gathering ambition from unknown sources.

Hand on hips, weight shifting from one leg to another, eyes quickly moving from her face to the countertop. "That won’t help," the words crossed the kitchen as if it were an open field of a hunting sport, piercing her heart but leaving her to crawl an agonizing death until her dying breath.

"Sorry?"

Eyes focusing again on the countertop. "Black tea," he said monosyllabically, as if each word cost him money. "That doesn’t help with headaches; you should get chamomile or peppermint."

"Ah," she replied, confused. Why was he clarifying that? What was the point of this conversation? Crossing legs as the cold crept in, but it quickly vanished as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Turning back around, facing the counter and gripping her own teacup. The recommendation was blatantly ignored; it seemed like a random fact thrown at her rather than something to take seriously, at least for her. About to carry on, she considered just faking preparing the tea and getting away from there.

Frozen in place, each hair on her body raised involuntarily. Not even his steps against the wood planks had been heard. ‘Oh.. Uhm-’ the natural process of breathing was totally forgotten. A strong, patronizing hand sneaking, almost creeping with confidence on her lower back, guiding her toward another cupboard.

He moved closer, getting an involuntary reaction out of her. Straightening up, chest pushing forward, lips parting, breath accelerating. He was so close, looking into her. Eyes locked onto hers over her shoulder, transparent pearls penetrating her soul. Nails sank into her palms as her teeth clenched. If he was so short, why did it feel so towering? Suddenly, the thought of owing him an apology for simply sharing the same air crossed her mind. Her nipples were noticeable through her loose shirt; he must be able to see it. As he grew closer, her idea was that all the subtle little hints must have worked.

Eyes closed, holding her breath, the air moving around her gave her the idea of movement. Holding out for nothing. Waiting for him to steal a kiss from her, perhaps grip her hips, pushing aside her loose short, turning her around, and fuck her roughly and mindlessly over the countertop. Getting what he wanted as if it were rightfully his.

“Here,” she opened her eyes. He was handing her a tea box where it read the same ingredients he had suggested.

“Thank you, sir,” her subtle smile tried to make up for her disappointment. Expectations were different; somehow, her best hopes were on him ogling at her, making it more impersonal and disinterested. Therefore, she could say that she walked up there, perhaps pleased him, and got what she came looking for. It was easier; easier it is to repeat like a broken record some silly washed-up quotes and nicknames that guys allegedly liked. ‘Yes, daddy’, ‘I’ll be a good girl Captain, I just do bad things with you,’ ‘Please, sir. I’m a good girl,’ or something in the department of ‘Ah- its so big, daddy,’ Get used and lose a little bit of dignity in exchange for something else.

Different it is, the tension building in her as she felt him looming over her frame, reminding her of just how insignificant she truly was compared to him. His hand resting lightly on the small of her back, guiding her movements. The coolness of his touch contrasting with the heat radiating off her body. Or the opposite, how cold and exposed she felt with her scant clothes and his cold hand didn’t help. A treacherous finger began to travel upwards, making each vertebra move and curve.

“Sir?” she hated how scared her voice sounded. Suddenly, as if it had escaped her mind, she remembered he was humanity’s strongest soldier. The soldier who went on the expedition to retake Wall Maria and essentially fought the most difficult titan shifter known until now, who led the Uprising. How many MPs did he kill there? How much stronger was he than her? Could she truly still walk away from this, or was her fate sealed?

“You’re stiff as a board; that’s giving you the headaches,” he commented casually as his right hand reached her shoulder and kneaded.

The action was absurdly overwhelming; she didn’t know her traps hurt this much until now but also how to react. Self-preservation mechanisms were out of the window; her lips pronounced what they had been dying to say since she left her bed. “It’s because of the promotion; it’s stressing me out.”

“I can help with that,”

Her worst fears and wildest dreams, all together in a sentence. Confirming what she came looking for but also the end of the speculations. Translucent eyes looked at him over her shoulder, expecting him to make the bolder move. She hated to admit how her heart skipped a beat, how his controlling hand on her neck made her want to arch her spine and gasp softly.

“With the headaches, I mean,” adrenaline had reached a peak and now tumbled down, leaving her devoid of thought other than disappointment mixed with relief. However, his tone, covered in a thin layer of entertainment, passed unaware to her at first.

Both hands on each trap, fingers sank in and then moved. Tearing her muscles apart from her bones, that’s how it felt. Handling, strong, overwhelming. Her breath stuck in her chest, and no matter how much she tried, she wobbled in her place. No amount of strength could help her remain still. Each tug that forced her to press slightly back against his chest, feeling the straps of the uniforms, made her sense weak, nervous. How his strong, calloused fingers felt divine, slightly too rough with the perfect amount of pain to make her forget for a minute but not entirely. Despite their roughness, his nails were perfectly short, making it impossible to experience any scratches.

The thought that perhaps there was another motive behind all this, beyond just getting a promotion, crossed her mind. It was the opportunity to experience how it would feel to be man-handled by the strongest soldier out there until she was left foolish. Her walls pressed together as excitement crept in, reminding her of how lonely and empty she felt. Wouldn’t a little love and something significant big feel extraordinary? The realization of how thin her shorts were and how much her body reacted to his touch filled her with shame.

Allowing him to treat her like some bitch in heat, shooting a load or two for a mere letter that said, "she’s good at what she does," as some cruel inner joke. It left her feeling worthless yet needy, a bad combination.

“Breathe, you’re tensing even more,” he murmured, and she could almost swear the smirk could be felt in his tone. The intentions were to breathe, to remain unaffected, but his movements felt powerfully triggering, and he seemed so unbothered by it. Any force he applied to almost tear her muscles into the correct position didn’t signify any real strength for him.

Each tug began to win little chopped breaths out of her as it was painful but also relaxing. She couldn't help but obey his command, forcing herself to take deep breaths to try and relax. But his touch, his presence, it was all so intense. Each movement of his hands felt deliberate, calculated, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And she couldn't deny the tingling sensation that spread through her body at his touch, despite her best efforts to remain composed.

She struggled to follow his instructions, her breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps as his hands worked their magic on her tense muscles. Each touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort within her. It was as if he could sense her vulnerability, her longing for something more than just a simple massage. Tug, thumbs pressing against her traps as they moved upwards, dragging her skin with them, chopped out breath as the pressure was too much before it withdrew slowly.

Then all over again, harsh. “Mhh ah-” it left her lips involuntarily as he touched a particular place. She gnawed her lip, holding back. His fingers weren’t particularly soft, not only because of the pressure he delivered but also rough with days and days of working, slightly calloused, rubbing in all the right places. Not again, she swore she was trying to remain composed, how he hadn’t heard her. “AH-” wincing as he moved up and contracted her neck, she feared for a second he would choke her.

His grip tightened, nails digging deeper into her flesh, pulling her downward. Thighs shaking, knees buckled, she fought to keep standing as her world spun. He knew her weakness; he exploited it without remorse. Every touch was a reminder of his dominance, every pull a testament to his power. She was helpless beneath him, unable to escape his grasp. Levi’s hands, humanity’s strongest hands—strong, angled, harsh, broad.

He chuckled.

He chuckled between pulls, his thumb rubbing circles on her sore spots, while his palm pressed harder against her neck.

Y/N froze in place as she felt him chuckle entertained behind her, almost mischievously. “Somebody is excited,” he calmly commented, but the smirk on his face was subtly evident in his tone. His voice was steady, despite the few sassy remarks, and it annoyed her to death. Like a cat playing with a moth until it's dead, they know they've won the game, so why rush it? Let's enjoy the hunt while she’s stripped of her dignity. “Nobody's given it to you in a while?”

Lips parted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and offense, she looked over her shoulder at Levi’s bleary eyes. “Excuse me?” she frowned deeply as she turned. She hadn't realized until then how close he was to her, practically breathing the same air. His stare penetrated her iris and seemed to read her soul, making her swallow uneasily. Her demanding tone quickly withdrew not only from her voice but also from her features. His silence subtly implied, but his presence demanded, ‘Come on, girl. You don’t reply to me like that if you know what's good for you.’ That’s what she got.

“A massage,” he said quietly, “nobody's given you a massage in a while?”

At this rate, she knew he knew. He was playing, dancing around the edge of pretending ignorance and seeing how far she would go. Standing, either summoning the courage to bring up the offer herself or walk out empty-handed. Waiting, like a mafia boss to see how much she would beg before setting her free, or crawling back to him, hoping for an opportunity.

There was an inner battle: either snap at him, reply, or descend all levels of self-love.

“It’s because you’re going too rough,” she said, mainly because she refused to be so quickly humiliated by a guy that short. Both looked at each other; her gaze moved slightly over his eyes, expecting any shift, something, but it was obvious that in a stare fight, he was going to win.

"Rough?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You’ve no idea what rough means.”

Her cockiness quickly withdrew. She wished she had some sassy comeback prepared or ready, but it wasn’t the case. Her teeth rolled along the edge of her bottom lip. It made her curious; either he liked to pretend he had more sexual history than was known, or she had bitten off more than she could chew. It stirred up a mix of curiosity, excitement, nervousness, and fear all at once. Imagining him fucking some unknown soldier rough, mindlessly, just for the sake of it. Scouts were so stressed, living quick, short lives.

Her eyes couldn’t help themselves, quickly dropping down to check. His thick, muscular legs, almost as if they had been forced to fit into the tight black trousers of the uniform. Losing its subtleness, the outline of his dick on one side of his left leg forced her to look back up. She finally turned around to face him again, but his stoic expression gave away little information, almost none.

“Perhaps you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, brat,” his voice began to sound like a distorted dream. She was waiting for some smooth approach or perhaps a fully humiliating one. The expectations were simpler: either he would like to pretend some love he endeared from her or behave like any disgusting dude at a bar, asking for a quickie in a bathroom cabinet. Neither of the two options was less humiliating. But this was different.

At this rate, the humiliation and initial thoughts were replaced by overwhelming curiosity. “How rough?” She felt her glossed lips stick together slightly as she murmured timidly, feeling her head heat up and her stomach tighten. Something intrinsically wrong must be with her, she believed.

With a second thought, she was sure that this would make her extremely ashamed.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” he warned, not a single centimetre of his features giving away any sort of intentions. Excitement or expectation, arousal or boredom, sweetness or creepiness. Grey gems looking back at her deadly, daring her to make deals with the devil or walk back home.

‘Go big or go home, didn’t I say that?’

“I want a recommendation,” she finally said it, thrilling anticipation coursing through her veins. This man, this beast, was about to unleash hell upon her body. Yet, she found herself oddly eager for it. Was it fear or excitement? Perhaps both. “and… in exchange, you can go as rough as you want.”

It felt absurdly dirty. Giving it a thought in the hole of self-hate, she concluded that perhaps she should have done this when she was younger, like her friends as cadets. When hormones and lack of experience made it hard to think it through, that receiving a good salary and free days to go out and party was worth letting any squad leader get a chance.

"Recommendation," he echoed, repeating her words as if testing them on his tongue. There was a moment of silence, as if weighing the pros and cons of such a proposition.

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

Those two words held such weight, sending another wave of nerves through her. What had she gotten herself into? The room suddenly became hotter, thicker, suffocating. Her heart raced faster, pounding heavily in her ears.

Half-lidded, she moved closer, not entirely sure how this was done, if it was meant to start slow and soft for it to escalate. But she tried; she could take the lead in the kiss. But his hand stopped her face as he tilted backwards, completely breaking the moment.

“Who do you think I am?” Levi said, offended. And she feared for her life. Perhaps he just wanted to ascertain how much of an easy, cock-drunk slut she was to give him more reasons to find her worthless. But then, “Some green cadet who, for the sake of getting my cock wet, I would fuck you behind a horse at the stables? Or at the common kitchen?”

She didn’t know how to answer, but thankfully, Levi didn’t give her much time to talk. “My chambers.”

Feeling closer to a military order than a booty appointment, she slowly made her way to the door while he retreated to the counters, tidying up. Her feet dragged across the hall as she pushed open the door, her eyes constantly checking behind her. She couldn't shake the feeling that this might all be a joke.

Before she knew it, his hand urged her forward, pushing at the small of her back to guide her upstairs. "Come on, girly, we don’t have all night," he muttered.

It felt like a shameful march. They ascended the stairs in silence, each step echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The stillness of the night only intensified her discomfort; she couldn't shake the feeling that someone might overhear them. Perhaps some night owl among the scouts would peek through a door, or worse, they might already know who slept where. The thought of having to make the same trip downstairs the next morning filled her with dread. As if she would walk out of that room with a paper stuck to her forehead that said, "I was Captain Levi’s slut for a night."

Led through the dim corridors of the base, they passed several closed doors marked 'Officer Quarters,' indicating where higher-ranking personnel resided. Finally, they reached what seemed to be his room. With a swift motion, he unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter first. ‘What a gentleman,’ she thought sarcastically.

As she stepped inside and took in her surroundings, she noticed the simplicity of his chamber. It lacked extravagance, with only functional furniture and tools of his trade. The room felt impersonal, as if he had never bothered to make it feel like home. His office area featured a desk cluttered with paperwork and a bookshelf filled with texts on military strategy and tactics.

To the left were two doors, presumably leading to his bedroom and an attached bathroom. Levi moved past her to search through the cabinets while she observed. Two glasses were already filled by the time he turned to her.

"A drink?" he offered.

She accepted, unable to suppress a subtle smile. Whatever she had anticipated for the night, this wasn't it. Chuckling, she teased, "Do you offer drinks to all the girls you bring over?"

Levi downed his drink and poured another. "No. But you seem nervous as fuck, and it’s making me uncomfortable."

She laughed softly, acknowledging the truth in his statement. "Thank you, then." The burn of alcohol sliding down her throat helped steady her nerves somewhat.

As they stood there, glasses in hand, tension hung thick between them. Hoping the alcohol would ease the tension, she shifted her attention elsewhere, but she could feel his eyes on her, assessing her. Swallowing, Addam's apple moving before he spoke, "Are you clean, right?"

His question caught her off guard, and she almost choked on her drink. "What?" she hummed, not fully comprehending.

Then, fear crept in quickly. "I am… I’m not doing it without protection," she clarified confidently.

His chuckle did little to ease her worry. "No shit, girly. I wasn’t stupid enough as a teen to not wrap it up. I'm not starting now," he replied. "The last thing I need in my life right now is getting a chick knocked up."

His words, despite their lack of warmth, reassured her. "I meant, is it safe for me to eat you out,"

Relief washed over her as she realized her misunderstanding. "Oh," she replied sheepishly. "Yes, you can." As his words sank in, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, lips pressing together before she took another sip and crossed her legs. 'Doesn’t he want a blowjob?' How many superiors offer you promotions in exchange for making you cum?

He nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp. His intense gaze never wavered from hers. "Good."

Slowly, he approached her, closing the distance until they were mere inches apart. She could smell the liquor on his breath, taste it on his lips. For a brief moment, she wondered if he expected her to initiate something, but before she could gather her thoughts, their lips met in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, asserting dominance as his hands gripped her hips, pressing her against the door.

Pulling away slightly, he pinned her against the door, his hands roaming her body as he kissed her jawline. "Wait… let’s go to the room," she suggested, realizing he meant to fulfil his earlier request.

"No, you're too timid for riding my face. I want to be buried in your pussy right now," he insisted. The impact against the harsh wood surface and his lips reconnecting with her with necessity almost knocked her completely off her breath. Hands that had been kneading her shoulders only a few minutes ago were now digging into her hips, pushing them into his, possessive and demanding.

"Levi," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible. The kiss was broken again, and her agitated breathing filled the gap between their faces. Surprised by his sudden aggression, she struggled to form coherent thoughts as he continued to devour her neck and shoulders. His hands roamed freely over her body, tracing along her curves and dipping beneath her top to cup her breasts roughly.

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

All her attempts to appear seductive were now the natural flush of her face, pumped lips of how they tried to suck each other’s air, the blood in her cheeks, the tossed hair. His hands grabbed the edge of her shorts and played with it. His words crossed the little space between their features with cockiness. “What are you wearing under this for me? Huh? What slutty little shit did you put on to wrap yourself up as if you’re my birthday present?”

A cheeky index finger ghostly touched her belly with its knuckle, making the fine hairs raise involuntarily before tugging on the fabric to sneak a peek. ‘Why doesn’t he just tell me to strip?’ But Captain Levi seemed to be like a cat; he liked to play with his prey until eating them completely, a cruel game. Eyes checked down and hummed in approval. “Black, classic. Not bad,” he said, but a part of his speech didn’t seem impressed. “But I prefer pink.”

Her mind insisted on giving it a second thought, that he didn’t strike her as those types of guys, but anything happening until then had proved to her that she had no idea who he was, what he liked, what type of man Captain Levi was.

Without further prompting, Levi dropped to his knees, positioning himself between her legs. His fingers trailed along the hem of her shorts, pausing briefly before dropping it. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before diving in, his nose brushing against the fabric.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as his warm breath tickled her sensitive flesh. Anticipation built within her, mixing with apprehension. It was unavoidable. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to focus solely on the sensations washing over her. A gasp left her lips as he grabbed her right leg and lifted it as if it was nothing and placed it over his shoulder. His calloused hand still lingering on it, gripping her thighs with strength and pleasure, enjoying gripping them as his nose pressed softly against her folds.

Levi's skilled fingers hooked beneath the elastic band of her panties, tugging them aside just enough. Once removed, he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over her swollen core. An involuntary moan escaped her lips. She trembled in a different kind of anxiousness; it was now plainly obvious. With a smirk, Levi leaned in closer, his nose barely grazing her sensitive flesh. "Do you like that, girly?" he whispered, his tone thick with lust. Her answer was evident in the way she trembled under his touch.

Gently, he blew cold air across her wetness, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She couldn't help but arch her back, moaning softly as her grip tightened on the door behind her. Nails digging into the wood as terror set in. Slowly, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the outline of her folds.

Fear. No, he didn’t want a quickie at some public facility. No, he didn’t want some quick blowjob under his desk. No, he didn’t want any fast, easy solution. He wanted to savour each single centimetre of skin, torture all the cells, squeeze each second that he got to play with her as his little possession.

Each flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of sensation throughout her body, making her squirm. His expert hands found purchase on her thighs, holding her firmly in place. His tongue flicked out, teasing her entrance as his thumb kept doing slow little circles on top of her clit. Gripping his shoulders for balance and support. He slid his middle finger across her entrance, coating it with her arousal before dipping it inside. His thumb continued to tease her clit, stroking gently yet firmly.

Her moans grew louder, punctuated by soft whimpers as her head thumped against the door. Her breath agitated as his tongue slipped inside her. “Mh- Ah!” she felt her climax nearing, wondering with half-lidded eyes why he was being so pleasing. It was torture how he moved with perfect sync, but yet it was subtle. As if she let herself be dragged by the course, her body relaxing and twitching unintentionally as he held her in place.

Her back arched unintentionally, trying to follow him as he suddenly pulled back when she was about to reach her peak. “Captain-”

“That’s it, get all soft for me,” He murmured as he casually kissed the bottom of her belly. Before he went back, determined. It only took one, two, three flicks of his thumb directly over her bud to make her gasp loudly, press her raised leg against his head and feel how the other tensed and then struggle to keep her up. Her breath struggled to find a rhythm when all of a sudden, he took all of her in. Unapologetic tongue ran flat all over her fold before closing over the top so he started to suck and lick directly her clit as two unceremonious fingers were playing with her entrance before sinking in all the way.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as her nails scratched the door and she began to twist in position as if it was too much after her release.

“MH- Ah, no wait- AH!” a loud moan cut her complaints as his fingertips found a particular place and decided to assault it with no mercy, as his mouth kept playing directly over her clit. It was too much; she felt her leg shaking as much as she felt his fingers getting impossibly wet and slippery inside with no remorse anymore. They pushed against her walls, making her feel the tug of her own body before returning to press against that spot.

“No. No-hah!” She began convulsing against the wall, her head moving hectically to the side as she felt herself getting impossibly wet and electric waves coursing through her. “Please- No! Wait ah! No."

Palms pressed against the door, trying to push herself upwards, but he grabbed her shaking leg that was struggling to keep her up and positioned it over his shoulder with the other. The movement was so smoothly done; to him, it felt natural, but for her, it felt like a completely different situation. The strength with which he moved left her absurdly powerless; the tug felt so powerful as if she didn’t even notice the resistance she was exerting compared to his.

Then, he completely sat on his face. She felt everything—the contour of his face as her body rocked involuntarily, his fingers slipping in and out as his nose rubbed against her folds while his tongue licked clean her abused hole. “HM!” she gasped loudly, jerking upwards before falling completely over his head when the hand that was kneaded the meat of her thigh slapped her loudly.

She wanted to move, to slip away as she felt as if her bones were being drained, uncontrollable pleasure overtaking her. Her thighs pressed against his head as one of her hands moved downwards to tug his soft dark locks, obsessed, shivering as her mind kept shutting down.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she struggled against him, fighting against his strong grasp. "Please, Captain, I can't take it anymore!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m fucking going to piss myself.”

With a smirk hidden from view, Levi held her in place, refusing to let her go. He knew exactly where she stood, only groaning pleasingly as he intensified his actions. His fingers thrust into her relentlessly, matching his rhythm with the flicks of his tongue. Levi could feel her hips buck violently, trying to escape his relentless assault, how she squirmed helplessly in his grasp. He was feasting on her with no remorse.

She cried out his name, unable to bear the intensity any longer. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her body convulsing as she tried to pull away. But he wouldn't allow it, keeping her anchored to his mouth, shaking as he kept driving his tongue all over her. The feeling of being dripping was overshadowed by him drinking her in as if he was the thirstiest man alive, moaning against her folds as she could almost bet she felt his pleased smirk.

At some point, she couldn’t even hold her form against the door, twitching involuntarily. Levi reluctantly released her, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He stood up and picked her up, no buckling knees, no groan or scoff as he did; it was as if he was picking up a paper sheet from the desk. Weightless, powerless against his pull. Unceremoniously, he dropped her on the bed.

Jacket off shoulders, left at the back of a chair inside his room. Arness's upper part was pushed down so his hands could grip the edge of his grey shirt and push it over his head. Then, before she could process it, enjoying the soft cotton of the fabric against her body, marking a huge difference from the rough door, one of his knees sank on the mattress before he crawled to be between her legs.

Elbows on the bed, heels pushing upwards, her broken voice pleaded, “no, please. It’s enough,” as he kissed and nibbled the sweet part of her inner thighs before moving to her core again. “Ah!” she jerked again as he snapped the side of her leg again.

The tingling heat after the hit lingered on her as Levi rearranged her on the bed to his pleasure. “I think you’re not understanding your position,” he groaned, “I’ll say when it's enough; you just have to spread your legs for me to do what I please. That’s your fucking job now if you want your stupid letter, lay there and be a good pliant hole for me to fuck.”

Uncomfortable groans echoed in the room, interrupted by his own voice once again, “Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes…” she murmured but his haunting glance between his legs made her thought he heard her backwards softly. Passing down saliva, “Yes, sir.”

“This is your last warning,” he informed her, while his hands ran up and down her body, palm flat against the valley of her breasts, the touch was so soft but it felt subtly rough from the callouses of his hands, a permanent reminder this wasn’t supposed to feel as lovely as it momentarily did. “Did you hear me, girly? Or have I already fucked you dumb?”

“Yes, sir.”

Contorting uneasily as little whimpers left her lips between a mix of discomfort, pleasure, exhaustion, and pain. Pain because she could already feel his fingers sneaking in, three of them patiently spreading her for him and his restless mouth once again on work. It was too much, involuntarily her legs pushed against the mattress when he hit a particular place. Twisting as if she was possessed, fingers tugging from the sheets and her back arching as a natural reflex.

It was embarrassing how much she felt the wetness of her own mixed with his saliva sneaking through her ass cheeks down to the bed. Her legs felt weak but got a sudden burst of strength as he kept playing with a place that made her eyes roll back and tried to push her up. Levi held her in place, arm surrounding her thighs and arching her core to his face. Despite it all, her hole twitched with the necessity of more, demanding something even bigger as she felt her pinkie fingers going numb from the overpressure.

Knees buckled as he parted momentarily. “What a cute little slutty hole. You’re so tight; I will enjoy fucking it raw,” while she trembled in anticipation, Levi smirked as if he could already see everything he had planned in his mind. He softly pressed a finger on it only to see it clamp down onto it. “So fucking needy; when was the last time you got a good cock to fuck you back into your place?”

With a smirk, Levi withdrew his finger, replaced it with his mouth, and plunged inside, sucking her into his mouth. His finger teased against the back wall, exploring her depths before finding the spot that made her buck wildly. She mewled, her voice hoarse and filled with a hint of desperation. Her head thrashed from side to side, her nails digging into the sheets as she begged for mercy.

The following two orgasms were quick; Levi was getting eager to plow into her pussy with his dick now. His finger pried her open, and his tongue easily got in and swirled around. At this rate, she was just spread on the bed, twitching miserably, whimpering out of pleasure and the sweet pain it provided. “It’s so pretty when you cry,” he joked as little mewling sounds left her rose lips, and her eyes looked translucent with clamped-out eyelashes by the moisture. “Beg me more.”

Her eyes fluttered open, desperate and pleading. "Please, sir… just fuck me already," she begged. The intensity of her arousal was overwhelming; her body begged for release.

Levi got up to his knees, looking down at her and then between her legs, admiring his own creation with a smirk on his face. Fingers casually unbuckling his belt, letting it hang loosely around his hips as he undid the front button of his black uniform trousers and shamelessly patted the front of his engorged dick, feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric and hissing slightly as he finally got some relief from the pressure. As if he enjoyed forcing himself to enjoy every little bite from his meal, saving the best for last, testing his endurance of resisting to the last limit so each little inch that he plugged in of his dick finally in that slippery hot heaven felt like pure blessing. His left hand, which wasn’t touching himself, caressed her leg that forced to be up because she could no longer do it on his own.

“Ass up, girly,” he said. The command had been processed, but it was as if her body wasn’t replying to her mind. The only thing she could fully process was the movement of the mattress and how cold the bed felt as Levi abandoned it. Lazy steps against the wood planks that gave up little cracking sounds. Striding in front of his dresser, slightly bending, allowing her to have a good view of his ass as he dropped the trousers with the underwear all together and then quickly folded them and threw them over the surface, but he upheld something with his left hand from his clothes that she couldn’t perceive from the perspective of spying on him from her lazily open legs and half-lidded eyes. Fingers rummaged through a couple of things before he got what he had been looking for.

“It seems like I’ve to do fucking everything,” he complained, but there was no hint of actual anger in his voice, stoic as ever as he walked back to the bed with his hard dick on full display. Impossible erect and slightly dripping pre-cum from the tip that was a deep shade of red compared to the rest of his pale body, it involuntarily twitched as if it was happy of being finally free. She bit her bottom lip as she delighted herself with the view before doing a little eye contact; it was a good size, way more than she anticipated. Underneath it his heavy balls and on top a nice happy trail that resembled a signal that indicated anything under his belly button and chiseled abs was also a happy surprise.

Her eyes quickly fell to his left hand, and she noticed the belt from the 3DMG gear. While the reason why he may have kept that was rather obvious, the possibility escaped her rationality. “Wait- You’re not using that-“

“I said.” He just gripped the sides of her hips and flipped her over, “Ass up.”

Knees sank on the bed, “MHMP-“ her complaints were muffled by the bed as avoiding her full upper body falling completely into the mattress was difficult as he gripped her arms.

“I told you, it was your last warning,” Levi said as the belt tied up against her wrists, knotting up safely. Her face buried in the sheets by the pressure of her own weight, “I’ll teach you discipline, little shit.”

Hands massaging her ass cheeks, fingers sinking in the meat as his own knees against her legs forced more space. “HMP!” muffled complaint as swiftly one hand impacted on her ass, heat spreading through the skin and turning it red as the sound echoed in the dead of night. His hand followed, leaving a mark on her ass. The heat traveled through her skin, and she could feel her pussy drenching with need. She whimpered, trying to squirm against the belt, but he held her in place. Another and another, each time made her jerk forward slightly as her breath held in her chest and then puffed out.

“Please…” she whispered as her head turned to a side, resting her cheek on the mattress. “I’ll behave, please.”

Levi hummed, but his hand didn’t leave her ass, caressing the hurt zone softly. “Don’t you think we should make it even?”

The next swat landed on her other cheek, making her eyes water and her body jerk. "Please!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her whole body tensed, every nerve ending screaming in anticipation and desire.

Levi grunted, "Ah. You’re such a crying baby. As all MPs," he growled, rubbing the red splotches with his calloused hand. "You're so wet, begging for my dick. You better be grateful you're getting it."

“Ah-!” she gasped loudly as he slapped her ass again. The grip on her hair pushed her head up, and despite the tug and the strength of the grip, the relief of fresh air filling her lungs finally clouded her mind. His breath impacted on her face from the side as he held her, watching how her mouth hung open, panting softly.

“Thank me for showing you your place,” Levi demanded.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered, forcing herself to look at him from the side. Locking her pleading eyes with his demanding stare. “Thank you for reminding me of my place, sir.”

Levi hummed satisfied, his fingers weaving into her hair again. "That's my girl," he growled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Good girl,” he repeated before placing a kiss on her shoulder blades that were working extra hard by having her hands tied back. He released her hair, gave her ass one last swat, and then positioned himself behind her. She whimpered one last time, face resting on the side as she observed him opening up the foil of the condom carefully and then the subtle hiss as he rolled it down his dick. One hand lazily jerked himself as another reached for her folds and casually ran up and down his thumb through them, spreading the slick evenly.

“You should be riding my cock until I got tired of keeping it wet and warm, yet here I am,” Levi complained as if he wasn’t the one taking each and every decision while shamelessly gripping her tied-up hands from the back to position himself. “Fucking you silly and doing all the shitty job; maybe I should get that promotion,”

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

But she decided to carry on with the performance, either out of self-preservation, arousal, or the feeling of the cold-wrapped head of his cock running up and down her folds, applying soft pressure at her entrance before withdrawing, had already made her mad. “Thank you, sir.”

The angle of her body, the arch of her back, his hand on her hip, and his subtle hum of approval. Her mouth hung open, and the gasp was fully cushioned by the bed, struggling against her binds. Despite her assumptions, Levi sank in slowly and patiently, despite slipping inside effortlessly.

“Ah- Fuck,” he scoffed out, gritting his teeth as his head fell backward slightly, forcing himself to savor the moment but not completely lose it, gasping slightly. Withdrawing only a bit before thrusting back in, testing the waters. He took a moment to adjust, breathing heavily through his nose, and then began to thrust slowly. Each movement was met with a soft whine from the girl. But the soft, almost loving pace lasted the split of a second, a brief moment of calmness before the storm.

She should have known, at this rate, the second one of his hands abandoned her hip to grip the belt around her tied-back hands and used it as leverage. The tug from the resistance, the forced into place, and one deep thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. Withdrawing almost all the way, almost only the tip left in before he used her own hands as a grip to push all the way in.

"God damn," he cursed under his breath, pushing in deeper. “You’re so tight,” he muttered, a pleased growl escaping his throat. Meanwhile, she would swear she was trying to breathe more, but the sheets stuck to her face and covered her nose. She tried to cry a little bit less loud because despite her features being buried down, the loud muffled moans each time he plunged all the way in mixed with the loud slapping of the bed frame against the wall must have woken up someone somehow.

“MH-HMP!” Her dignity told her not to sob of how good it feels, how deep it hits, how it felt as if he was trying to break her in half, conserve some dignity, but tears ran down her face of how perfectly synced he set the rhythm, how the friction of her parted knees against the sheets was starting to burn, but it was the perfect mix of how his cock’s head hit that place so brutally sweet.

“Fucking shit, what a pretty view on all fours,” he grunted, his voice sounding less controlled. The lust creeping in as his free thumb pushed his ass cheeks apart, locking his eyes on the way his cock disappeared into the slippery mess of her abused hole at that rate. “Ah-“ Levi let out a subtle moan as if the view was too much to handle, as the sweat glistened on her skin. The only way to not get completely lost in it was to spark it again.

“NH-AH!” she cried out as her legs trembled and her lips gasped for air.

“Best ass inside the walls,” Levi groaned. “And it’s all mine to fuck raw.”

Each thrust, each pull out, and then the deep push - Levi grunted, his own breathing ragged. He gripped the belt, pulling her hands slightly, making her hiss as the pressure against her skin was starting to leave obvious marks. Marks that joined all the rest of them, the still fresh, almost pulsating red handprints on each of her ass cheeks, the shameless bites he left on her shoulder blades each time he bent over to it.

His pace quickened, and so did her tears. She was soaked, her toes curled, and her body shook with each hit. She was a mess, a crying, whiny mess, and yet she was enjoying it, her core clenching around his cock with every movement. Levi growled, and his thrusts became harder, faster, more forceful. A relentless groan escaped him as he slammed into her harder, the friction of her wet core against his shaft nearly driving him insane. His grip on the belt tightened, and he pulled her hands back even further, making her body arch even more. The sound of leather against her skin echoed through the room, the scent of her arousal mingling with the smell of the clean room.

She was close, so close, but Levi stopped suddenly, and she wanted to scream out in frustration, to put an end to this sweet torture. Her knees hurt, her arms hurt, her pussy throbbed with need and abuse when he pulled out of her. No time to think as his pale, sweaty hand appeared from the top, grabbing the pillow and then turning her around forcefully from her shoulder.

“I want to see that fucking pretty face of yours while I fuck you,” Despite the darkness of the night, the room felt like it lighted up for her now with her face finally on display. Pillow under her hips, both legs over his shoulders, and without a minute to spare, he thrust all the way in.

“AH!” her moan echoed in the room as the angle felt too much, her toes curled impossibly, and her legs shook. “Ah- Ah- MHA! Captain-“ Top of her body twisted as her head rolled to the side, tears running down her cheeks, and the restless attention of him on her face was humbling.

“SHHH, quiet, little shit ah-“ He whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and from the tips of his dark locks, but he ignored it. “You want the entire fucking scouts to hear you?”

The bed creaked loudly, their bodies merging into one, like an animalistic dance. He gripped her legs more tightly, pushing in and out, setting up a pace that seemed to put both of them into a trance. Few messy soppy kisses to her legs as he had them within reach. Y/N bit her bottom lip trying to suppress her moans, leaving restless whimpers and cries of pleasure “Ah ah ah- hmmm,”. She tried but couldn't contain the sounds, but his dick was hitting her cervix as if that was his glorious duty; he folded her as if squeezing her legs against her bouncing tits was somehow helping her not to feel how his dick filled each corner of her. No, it did not help.

“Stop, stop, stop, almost, fuck-” she begged, pressing her legs against his head and trying to control her body from shaking.

Levi laughed roughly, a sound filled with victory and lust. “Want more? Want me to ruin you completely?”

“AH! YES-!” a loud moan as her back arched, head thrown backwards, and eyelids flickering of how good it felt. Nothing that felt like this, as someone pushed her down on the bed, slamming his cock into her, should be healthy, she concluded. “Quiet,” Levi warned, his voice hoarse. He loved how she clenched around his cock, how her pussy milked him with her orgasm. Frowning deeply as the feeling of her clamping down on his dick was too much to handle, a soft, quiet little moan left his gritted teeth. His abs contorted and his white knuckle grip on the sheets made his arm veins pop up.

“Please, Captain, Ah!” Why bother, the sound of the bed should be enough of a clue for the rest. And what if someone thought she was Captain Levi’s slut? What if she opened her legs wide and steady for him to fuck her restlessly? Who cared? Not her, definitely not her, as the only remaining feeling aside from the scorching heat of the pleasure waves around her body was the tingling sensation of her numbed arms and feet.

“Shut the fuck up,” he insisted, looking down at her. His hand around her neck, two fingers pushed down her parted lips. “I fucking told you to keep quiet.”

“NHG!” She choked on them as Levi kept them there while he lost his rhythm, thrusting into her restlessly and messily.

Her eyes watered up, staring into his as she struggled to breathe. The sweaty, panting man fucking her hard and fast, with an unapologetic expression on his face. She attempted to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Shhh," he muttered, panting mouth as sweat ran down his face. "Just let me finish this."

Each thrust seemed to drive him closer to the edge. The friction between his dick and her pussy grew more intense, sending waves of pleasure through him. He couldn't care less about being quiet anymore - he just wanted to come, and he wanted her to see him do it.

"You're gonna cum with me," Levi growled, his voice ragged. "Look at me."

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of fear and desire. Levi's eyes bore into hers, making her shiver with each thrust. She let out a soft whimper, unable to deny him anything anymore. The pleasure was too overwhelming to resist.

"That's right," he praised, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. "Cum with me, you little slut." His thrusts grew more desperate, each one driving him closer to the edge. He needed to come, needed to release the tension building up inside him, and she was his outlet. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with every twitch, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Tears ran down her eyes into her ears as so did the saliva around his digits drool down her chin, pleading eyes looking into his begging for him to put this to an end.

“MHM-Hmp,” soft humming whimpers that were wordless pleadings of him letting her finally cum.

"You want it?" Levi snarled, thrusting into her harder. "Fuck, you're so damn tight. You love this, don't you?"

Levi couldn't resist anymore, the sight of her tear-filled eyes and pleading look pushed him over the edge. He growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he felt his orgasm approaching. He grinned down at her, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. “Fuck- Aren’t you pretty?” he murmured against her face, almost smiling out of satisfaction.

Both panting in the microspace of the closeness of their faces, breathing each other's ragged puffs of air. Their noses thrusting into each other sometimes as he slammed into her the final times, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over him. Frowned closed eyes, as mewled moans mixed together. Her pussy gripped him tightly, milking him like a vice, and he knew she was cumming too. His eyes met hers, her face a mask of pleasure and pain, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Not bad," he breathed out, collapsing on top of her. He tried to catch his breath once, twice before he rolled to his side. Finally withdrawing from her slowly and laying flat on his bed next to her. One knee up, arm over his chest, and the other behind his head as a makeshift pillow as his lost eyes glued to the ceiling.

The room was silent except for their heavy breaths, the sweat dripping off their bodies mixing together. His chest raised up and down still erratic as both of them slowly blinked. Y/N lay there, panting heavily, her hands still bound behind her back. She could feel the sweat from Levi's body on her, where their skin touched. Her legs were shaking, and her pussy was still throbbing from the intense experience they just had. Her eyes met his, and she couldn't help but smile weakly.

His body twitched from time to time from the stimulation; her body felt like jelly. Completely boneless. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. But as the cold began to creep in, she contorted uneasily and cleared her throat timidly. “Could you…ehm-“

Levi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath. After a few moments, as he came out of his lethargic state, he finally spoke. “Oh yeah.” His fingers began to undo the knot around her wrists. “There.” Y/N rubbed her hands, feeling the blood returning to them. Her eyes focused on the deep red lines and bruises around them, and she grimaced uneasily. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she couldn't help but glance at Levi. He shifted, sitting up and rolling off the used condom before tossing it into the bin close to the nightstand.

He stood up slightly to pick something up from his nightstand and also to push the blanket closer that was at the bottom of the bed. She tugged a bit from the sheets to cover her body as the moment slightly washed away, and nudity felt obscene and unnecessary. Levi let the blanket crumple around his hips as he turned on a cigarette.

"You good?" Levi asked, taking a puff from it and leaving the cage back on the nightstand. He looked at her, examining her bruised hands and the red marks from the ropes. A small frown appeared on his face, but he quickly hid it.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip. The marks on her wrists stung, but she didn't want to complain. She slowly sat up, trying to regulate her breathing. The room was still filled with a mix of their sweat and the scent of their passion. Her eyes caught on his lips, more precisely the cigarette. They were rather new now that they discovered the world outside the walls.

Levi looked back at her, at her silence, and casually took a last puff from it before placing it in her lips. “There, have it,” he offered. “You know how it works, right?”

She placed both fingers around it and smoked patiently as she hummed and nodded in approval. Somehow, that made him scoff entertained. “Of course you do, MPs always get used to luxuries rather quickly.”

As the smoke left her lips, she returned it. Y/N hesitated, still rubbing her wrists. She couldn't help but wonder if she should be honest. "Ehm—" she pondered around how to approach the topic, her voice shaky. "Was that… good enough? For the promotion?”

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she smoked the cigarette. The smoke swirled around them, marking the end of their intimate moment. He took the cigarette back and flicked the ash away, taking another drag.

"Good enough?" he repeated, a smirk forming on his lips. "Was it?"

She grew nervous as he asked back, not sure what to reply. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at him. "I gave you what you wanted?" She asked, her voice soft but curious. She couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable, lying there with him after their intimate encounter.

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

Levi sighed, extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “You want advice for next time?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let the other person make an offer first, girly. I asked for your support at the camp so I had an excuse to give you a recommendation; I’ve already heard about your struggle from one of your friends. I had the stupid letter written before you even set foot inside this building."

He paused for a moment, turning his head to look at her. The smirk never left his face.

"But since you offered yourself, I wasn’t going to say no.”

Y/N's face flushed red, feeling embarrassed and a bit betrayed. She bit her lip as she looked at Levi, trying to process what he had just said. Then she scoffed offended, pushing him by the shoulder a bit playfully but also with anger.

"So it was all for nothing," she exclaimed, disappointment evident in her voice and obviously irritated. Holding the crumpled sheets against her chest, “You’re an asshole!”

Her eyes closed in reflex as she noticed his hand moving closer to her face, wrinkling her nose and pushing backward in self-defense. But Levi’s index fingers only softly pushed her frown playfully, and he said, “And you’re too naïve for being an MP,” Levi snorted, rolling his eyes.

Levi watched her move, a small smile on his lips. He slid his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge; his body still feeling sore. To her surprise, he grabbed the blanket and threw it over her head playfully.

"You shouldn't have done that," Y/N muttered, her cheeks still flushed. She took the blanket off her head, which only made her hair even more tangled, glaring at him. "I thought you actually meant it."

Levi smirked, standing up and pulling on his pants. "You really thought I'd turn down an offer like that?" he asked, clearly amused. He reached for his shirt, still smirking at her.

"Get some sleep, I don’t use the bed anyways," he said, zipping up his pants. "But don’t get used to, this isn’t a hotel."

He crossed the door of his bedroom and closed it behind him as she mocked his reply and cursed under her breath.

Walking down the corridors, everybody running to be somewhere else. That’s what the capital is like, always a new pub to discover, always a better party to attend than the previous weekend. Hot and dirty like the vicious air of the underground that laid underneath their boots. Her friends made plans as they called out for the week, writing their names and working hours down on the cards at the front desk. Yellow paper flowed under the conflicted air of the reception office, names written down with different calligraphies and a restless pen swinging as it hung from a cord to the forms.

‘Volunteers,’ it read at the top. The last row was empty, but it was quickly filled out.

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

One of her friends who was eagerly talking to the rest turned around and frowned, confused. “Why are you wasting your weekend volunteering for the Scouts,” she asked, frowning in disgust, “You’re already a squad leader, Y/N, don’t sell yourself short.”

Her fingers gracefully placed the pen back on the table as a smile raised on her features. Adjusting her purse around her shoulders, she casually said, “You know, it’s important to remain humble.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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[occamstfs]

Gacha Bro

Jk here's an actual video game TF haha! Bit of a trade with @artificial-transmutations ! Hope you enjoy this spin on a barbarian TF! -Occam

Erik wouldn’t label himself a gamer really, sure he threw on a stream every so often and tried to at least keep abreast of what’s popular, but he just never really found a game to care all that much about. He is fairly confident that the game his friend Jack just sent him Achillean Dreams was sure to be another in a laundry list of mediocre games he’s had a go at. It looks like a standard Gacha game which he’s never really cared for, they’re quite pay-to-win and predatory. Though he supposes that a few of his friends quite enjoy Genshin Impact? Maybe it’ll be a little fun?

Jack says he needs Erik to download the app and start playing so he can get a free pull, and after grumbling that this is precisely why he hates gacha games he downloads the app from Jack’s link and starts at it. He’s greeted with a grandiose generic animation sweeping through some fantastical setting before being deposited at his first draw. Rolling his eyes that this is just a lottery app he clicks and watches as he grows slightly curious to what, or who rather, he would pull. The screen flashes a few times before light bursts from the screen before he hears a burly voice shout “Graugh! Let’s Go!”  as a barbarian burst onto his screen swinging an axe. It zooms into his face through a mist of sweat to land on his rage filled eyes and a barbaric smirk as text reads Congratulations! You Pulled Enki the Barbarian! The screen changes once more, this time showing Enki’s model just standing and posing with his axe, flexing at the camera as if to challenge the player. Erik blushes before grimacing.

On the rare occasion he does decide to game he would never choose to play any kind of melee fighter type guy.  He taps through the menus to get to the gameplay so he can get this over with. Jack didn’t say exactly how much he needs to play but Erik is sure it’ll be clear. He starts maneuvering Enki through the world of the game, finding the controls incredibly intuitive as he finishes the tutorial and levels up. Doing so gives him a slight high, just enough of a rush to keep going. Might as well play a little longer considering he’s sure to never pick this game back up once he puts it down.

Entering the true starting area he goes around killing slimes and large spiders to get some experience points and level up. Each time he does so he finds himself growing more and more invested in the game, he can see why people like this after all, with each kill of some weak monster his warrior only grows more powerful which in turn helps him level up faster. He looks hungrily at his muscular character as he hears the chime of another level up and sees what new aspects and skills he has new access to.

In no time at all Enki is already level five and Erik uncharacteristically pumps the air in excitement before he shakes his head in shock at himself. He blushes as he sees Enki’s figure stretch in impatience on the level up screen. Man though, no wonder Jack wanted another pull in this game, it’s already quite addictive. He then hears his stomach grumble and is taken aback. He just ate didn’t he? He looks to the clock to confirm as the hunger overtakes him regardless of when his last meal was. He gets up to go grab food and finds himself shockingly sore. Jesus he needs to exercise more, or is he dehydrated? Just like Enki he stretches as he begins to make his way over to make a sandwich. 

He feels tensions familiar and new as he feels the pleasure in stretching his body to its limits. The hem of his shirt sits just a bit higher on him, exposing his thin waist and small treasure trail as his stomach grumbles once more. Alright already, he thinks as he throws together a meal and starts playing the game once more, just walking around and seeing what all the game has to offer. On the horizon he sees villages and castles that pique his interest as he struggles within his mind not to get too invested, he doesn’t want to throw money at this game.

Beginning his mindless grind for XP once more as he levels up his soreness starts to arise once more as he grumbles and adjusts his position. The couch creaks as his weight ever so slightly begins to increase, before once more his stomach demands his attention. “Jesus Christ! Why am I so hungry!?” He finds his blood starts to race as the irritation starts to rise. Perhaps he should give the game a rest. Deciding against having another meal he opts for junk and grabs a pint of ice cream. He’ll just hit the gym tomorrow.

Picking up a book he is taken aback as he realizes that thought just pushed itself into his mind. He has no gym membership, he’s never had one? He must have meant he’ll go for an, uh, hike or something? To distract his mind from that oddity he turns to start his book, quickly finishing his pint of ice cream as he struggles to sink his teeth into this book he thought he liked? He was quite invested last time he picked it up but at the moment he finds himself picking up and checking his phone an inordinate amount. His mind keeps thinking back to Enki’s muscular body as he impatiently taps his foot. He can’t seem to sit comfortably on the couch, be it the soreness or a rising anxiety in his body at sitting and reading this boring book. Ah, this book he quite liked, rather. He groans in irritation, and closes his eyes as he tries to work out what is going on with him.

Soon enough though, distraction arrives as Jack calls. “Dude you’ve gotta play more to get me my pull.” Erik opens his mouth to answer before noticing Jack sounds off, he asks, “Do you have a cold?”

He scoffs, “Erik, c’mon bro you just gotta get to level ten so we can both get good!” Erik again pauses as he listens closer to the other line, Jack is clearly amped about something more than this stupid little game, he then hears a familiar slapping sound and a deep grunt come from his friend and he calls out, “Jack dude! What? Are you mast-” Jack quickly interrupts him, “Chill bro of course not! Just, just uh. Here watch this level up thing and you’ll do it super fast, trust.”

The line goes dark as Jack apparently hangs up before sending a link to an ad for Erik to watch. Refusing to engage with the fact he was pretty sure his friend was masturbating just now he plays the ad and is shocked to find out it's for a partnership with a local gym!? His head sears with pain as he struggles to think of how weird this paired with him thinking about the gym earlier, but he is unable to make that leap as his eyes drink in muscular men pumping iron at the gym. It ends with a message saying players get a month trial. “God that’s bizarre.” 

He grimaces once more as he changes into pajamas and jumps into bed before taking advantage of his level up boost. He starts completing missions and defeating mobs as he approaches level ten at a rapid pace. He doesn't notice as his pajamas catch weird on his body as he lies there, his feet suddenly sticking out from beyond the blankets as he flexes his toes, not feeling as they surge a bit larger. As soon as he hits the milestone he lets out something between a yawn and a groan as he stretches, not noticing as he echoes deeper than he has ever sounded before. He finds no comfort in rest as he quickly drifts to sleep, his body tossing and turning in bed as he accidentally leaves his phone on, leaving Enki to accrue passive experience as continues to level up well into the night.

The root of Erik’s soreness makes itself apparent as he shifts in his bed, muscle starting to make itself known through his increasingly tight pajamas. He sweats completely through his clothes and leaves a deep pile of drool on his pillow as, unaware to him, he starts getting hard in his sleep as his cock grows larger than he has ever seen it before, his balls growing larger and hanging lower as he dreams of open fields and intense fights.

After no time at all however he wakes up with a start rocketing sweat into the room and tearing his pajama top. He is absolutely raring with energy that he needs to make use of. Before that though he sees a notification on his phone. Oh yeah, he didn’t use his pull did he. He smirks as he wonders what kind of hero he is to get next as he clicks through to roll hsi new character. As the light glimmers once more he hears a familiar grunt though as Enki once more dervishes with an ax through villains.

There is a slight disappointment in him as he sees he has somehow gotten this standard barbarian once more. Though seeing his stats improve as he now apparently has two starts sets him right as rain. His pulse races with excitement as he imagines how much better he will be. He quickly jumps out of bed, not noticing his pajama pants now rest at his mid-calf, and throws on some clothes to race to the gym to get his apparent free membership.

He neglects to take an uber or a bus however as he instead just starts to jog to the gym, not pulling up directions either as he somehow is able to intuit his way. In a lingering act of curiosity at what other heroes he could have pulled he clicks through the mages and thieves and smirks as he is suddenly glad he didn’t get such weak looking characters. He feels his shoes tighten as his feet surge larger once more carrying him to his destination. Besides denigrating the classes he usually enjoys playing he finds his eyes also catch on one named “Sir Gilgar” some kinda kingly paladin type who is apparently close with Enki. He tilts his head with interest at this man as he arrives at the gym.

Standing still he suddenly notices that he forgot to put on deodorant at home. He sniffs at his pits wondering how much of an issue it is to be, he definitely smells worse than usual, though it’s definitely not worth the trip back home. He is called over by the man at the front desk who bears an odd resemblance to the bear of a blacksmith from the game. “Yo bro! You play A.D.?” Erik nods his head as the receptionist continues, “Enki yeah?” Erik stumbles back in confusion, “Uh Erik actually?” to which the man just laughs “hah, oh yeah that’s what I meant. You’re friend told me you might be in.”

There is then an arm around Erik's shoulder, though heavier and higher than any of his friends could possibly have. Before he can turn to see however he notices that his less than pleasant musk is immediately overshadowed by the stink coming from this pit right next to his face, and finds himself taken aback once more as he is jealous, at the stink, whispering “what the fuck?” as he turns to this mammoth of a man. 

The man before him is, familiar? He squints his eyes as he sees the chiseled chin and long wavy hair. Ah that’s why, he looks just like that paladin Erik just saw in game doesn’t he what was his name? “Gilgar?”

The man smiles and laughs heartily, a deep rumble that makes Erik blush as he looks down and pats him on the back. “Huhuh no bro,it’s me Jack! Thanks for downloadin’ the game dude it’s really helped me get uh, bigger? Yeah, huhuh! I was playin’ it all night.” Erik continues to stare the man up and down, struggling to find anything to reconcile that this is his friend Jack. As he does so though his memories quickly change as he hungrily stares at his defined chest and weighty biceps, this is actually what Sir Jack’s always looked like though? He then shakes his head to respond, “yeah I can tell dude, you certainly didn’t shower.” 

“Huh” Jack grunts as he raises his arm to smell his pit, exposing a deep bush that Erik can’t help but stare in to with a hungry jealousy. He laughs once more, this time though there is something more sinister in it as Erik realizes that he has been staring down back at him the entire time, with something ulterior in his eyes. Before he can start to inquire or investigate what that is though Jack messes with his hair and heads for the showers, “why don’t you go and get started Erik, gonna need a lotta work to catch up with me huhuh!” 

He turns and leaves Erik alone, as he feels a fire burn in his chest. He should use this. Erik puts the game away as he throws on a workout playlist and he starts going all out lifting weights and going at the machines. He doesn't wonder how he so perfectly knows how to carry his body and expertly perform flawless exercise at every turn. He smirks as his pulse continues to race as he goes all out to try and sculpt his body like Gilgar, er Jack did. There is an itch on Erik’s chest as he does so, hope it’s not a rash he thinks as he continues about the workout. He scratches at it as below his shirt hair begins to push out in the middle of his pecs. It swirls around aiming to cover them entirely as a similar itch starts winding his way up his stomach as his treasure trail expands thicker and darker, rising higher to connect his pubes to his increasingly expansive chest hair. The music on his phone changes without his notice to the songs from the game. Enki’s theme starts to rise in pitch as his grunts deepen with every thrust and pull of his workout. The deepest itch yet starts to emerge in his pits as he throws weights down to scratch at them  His hands absolutely rank with his pit sweat as he brings his hand to his nose and smirks as he looks down to his darker hair, smirking as he already feels more like a man.

Erik then has the brilliant idea that if he switches to the treadmill where he’ll be able to play the game while still getting his blood pumping. Once he sets the treadmill going and pulls out the app, ignoring a picture sent from his friend, he sees that after starting his membership he has gotten another pull in game. He crosses his fingers this time desiring nothing more than to get himself, no, his Enki once more. He could not care about the improbability of it all as after the bright flash he hears the familiar grunt of Enki as he whispers under his breath along, still racing faster than he’s ever run before on this treadmill.

As he elevates his hero to three stars he finds himself running even faster on the treadmill. His stomps growing heavier as he continues to race faster and faster on the machine without lifting a finger or pushing a button to speed it up. He exhales through his nose like a bull as he feels his blood course through him, spreading a heat through the whole of his body. He clenches the arms of the treadmill just to exert further force upon it as his vision begins to grow red as he begins to outpace the fastest setting on the treadmill. Tears appear in his shoes and his thighs burst larger, absolutely tearing his shorts to shreds as he slams step after step into the track of the machine. He grasps at the knob of the treadmill trying to ratchet it faster than it’s max to little avail. 

His blood burns in his veins as he twists the button off the shoddy machine and every muscle in his body tenses and surges larger as he feels rage become impossible to control, displacing every thought in his mind. His shirt strains and then bursts as his chest flexes larger exposing the newly hairy curls on his still growing pecs as each expansive breath surges deeper and heavier. 

He strains to restrain himself  from enacting violence in the middle of the gym as he sees his phone fall to the floor, somehow midway through yet another pull without his input. He feels spit on his chin dripping through a beard he didn’t even notice he started growing as he breathes through his clenched teeth. It begins to push out even further, his jaw itching deeply from every angle as his stubble becomes a dense beard, thicker than he would have thought ever possible as Enki’s familiar theme begins to blare from the phone dropped on the floor. 

He pants as he struggles to hold back his rage though as the seconds pass he starts to wonder why he would ever do so, he is En- no he is Erik. He is a formidable, ugh. He clenches at his head as his legs push him higher into the air. He sees thick veins surge down his arms as they force themselves larger, hair darkening them up from his wrist and spreading up his biceps as his chest hair spreads to connect to his dense pits. His body begins to shake with the rage barely restrained.

At this moment there is once more a friendly arm around his shoulder and a familiar musk immediately breaks through his mindless anger as he turns to see his friend. His rival? It is not worth interrogating, he closes his eyes and smells the musk of his long companion Sir Gilgar. He turns to look him directly in the eyes, finding himself directly at eye level despite being well below it when he first stepped into the gym. There is a cocky smirk plastered on his face as if he were used to being the most impressive man in the room. Erik finds himself readily agreeing with this assessment, as long as of course Enki himself does not hold the position, shaking his head as he flexes groans as his body struggles to expand even further. 

Erik shakes back to reality as he sees that Sir Gilgar has been talking to him, his eyes inscrutibly somewhere between a haughtiness and a hunger as he continues, “Sorry Enki are you not listening?” Erik feels his check burn and he groans as he responds, “I, I am Erik not ugh.” He feels his mind grow confused as he sees his friend, his bedfellow in front of him. Thoughts fly through his head from two worlds and he struggles to remember who, Erik is.

Seeing Erik’s eyes grow blank as drool begins to pool in his mouth Gilgar kneels to grab the phone and begins tapping through the menus of the game. Taking a moment to stare and smirk at his own reflection in the screen before navigating to a purchase menu for Erik. He sees the bulge in Erik’s shredded pants begin to grow heavier as he hands his phone to him and asks, “Why not get this over with Enki, just embrace it. Don’t you want to be with me? All you need to do is hit one button.”

Erik’s eyes blast back to focus as he grunts and his cock surges even larger in his underwear at the thought of being with the man in front of him. Without a thought he purchases one last pull and doesn’t even watch as he knows what is to occur. He feels his pulse begin to race as an itch spreads through his veins, every tendon and muscle in his body warms as he almost vibrates with energy. Gilgar leads him to the locker room as he continues to convulse and grow.

Memories of his life before this game fade without contest as he recalls life as Enki, the barbarian, the warrior. Pride surges through him as he remembers countless victories and the beyond countless days of training to ensure this. He recalls being the pride of his village, of his people, of Sir Gilgar’s eye. He remembers the fateful day they met and the wrestling match that ensued, the contest that locked them together ever more, and the subsequent wrestling matches that devolved into something even more primal.

These memories continue to surge into his head as he continues to follow his companion into the locker room. His suddenly confused at why he is in such a bizarre place, he is a warrior is he not? Enki scratches at his pit and sniffs the musty air before deciding not to care, thinking was more his friend’s purview. The only thing he is truly concerned about at the moment is the increasing weight in his crotch. Seeing Gilgar start to disrobe in the corner of this tiled room Enki’s lust grows beyond any ability to fight it as he pounces, not even thinking to remove his underwear as his cock pushes beyond the bounds anyway. The two then begin wrestling as they often do before it turns into the frotting that it always does these days.

Enki does not know or care for the game that he awoke obsessed with this morning. Nor will he ever again. In fact there are few things at all as he prefers to do anything but think. Though somewhere beyond his rage, beyond his lust, he will be grateful for that link sent by his companion for it has allowed him to experience truly mindless pleasure evermore.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #muscle tf #jockification #hair growth #male transformation #musk tf

[lasaudade]

𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘, 𝖺 '𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌' 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼. (𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾)

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚  𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 :  Suffering several losses and ongoing, world-renowned tennis champion, Art Donaldson, is beginning to lose hope. After unexpectedly crossing paths with a familiar-looking journalist, Art realizes there could be more at stake than just his career. Will he leave the world he knew behind, or give the game one more shot?

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 : art donaldson x (f) sports journalist!reader.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : (𝟷𝟾+), second chance romance, angst, fluff, slow-burn.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 444.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝/𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 :  none.

𖥻 ۫ ׅ ˚ 𝚊 / 𝚗 : Hi, and welcome to my first fanfiction in 10 years! I've written this prologue for now as I write future chapters during my free time. I hope you guys enjoy this story, and I hope Challengers continues to receive the bountiful amounts of love it has been since its release.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ    . . .

“I don’t want to do this. I can’t.”

“Should’ve decided that before you became a world championship player.”

The shuddering breath that leaves his nostrils narrowly frees the anxiety coursing through his veins like a racetrack, the dizzying walk down a familiar feeling corridor more nauseating than the last. Art practiced, hard, and to see that it was all for nothing felt like a slap to the face, a rude awakening for a man who had been yearning for the younger version of himself; fresh-faced and ready to take on Stanford— then, the world. What a fucking joke.

He winces instantly as the conference room doors yawn open, dazzling flashes from the multitude of various press outlets waving their cameras in his face, the flurry begging for him to answer trampled questions over the next. He can’t imagine how exhausted he must look, drenched in sweat.

The anticipatory looks of reporters and bloggers, ready to barrage him with inquiries of his ongoing defeats, his future plans to ensure a win: He hated it. He wanted nothing more but to retreat to his hotel room in peace and quiet to reflect on what he could have done better, what he did so wrong. With every step toward the press table, his footing grew heavier than the last, that awful sensation in the pit of his stomach settling, worsening once he sat down.

A mic is placed on him by an assistant, and a reporter emerges amid the sea of people that grow calm. His blue, tired eyes meet theirs.

“Mr. Donaldson.”

“Hi.”

The reporter clears their throat. “I... can only assume this wasn't the result you'd be hoping for— none of us had. I mean, months and months of agonizingly hard training regimens and diets to stick to... I can't fathom how disappointed you must be feeling right now,” 

 A long pause.

“…Why don’t we just start with something simple: What exactly happened out there, today?”

Amongst the quiet whispers and shutter clicks that flash from cameras that stun him, Art Donaldson, the acclaimed savior of tennis is utterly silent; frozen. 

“... Art?”

“...”

He doesn’t utter a word, he doesn't have any to explain why he continued to be a disappointment to not only himself, but to everyone around him. His trainers, his media team, his fans... himself. The deafening loud ringing in his ears finally falls silent when his wings are clipped and he falls back down to earth. Despite it all, the waves of anguish, the disappointment, the embarrassment he feels for those around him... he smiles, glassy-eyed and defeated for the tabloids to see in all his pitiful glory.

“What happened?”

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson imagine #challengers fanfic #challengers fanfiction #actually super anxious to drop this but the post button is here so.. #time to close my eyes and hope for the best <3 #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AAAA ive always been a bit ick about my writing but #anything for mike faist and anything for art donaldson <3 #cheers :0)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Just a Brotherhood!Konig Thot👀. Knight!Konig loves in my head rent free🥰

Imagine with me- Knight!Konig who has a cute little scribe who's so eager to please her Lord Knight that she'd do just about anything he asked of her-even if that meant walking into a cave full of radiation, she'd do it for him! Tiny Scribe!reader who doesn't mind lugging around that massive backpack of supplies, honest My Lord it's nothing!

I can totally imagine Knight! Konig being so full of himself, especially after Scribe!reader proves their undying loyalty? Oh yeah, big ego boost for this giant anxious man 😊😏. Eventually I imagine a romance that is bordering obsession on both their parts😅😂.

In the game, Paladins of the Brotherhood usually got a whole team of different scribes and helpers since Wsteland is not a joke. Imagine being one of many - a bit of a tech nerd, always eager to get yet another toster for the glory of the brotherhood. Scribing your sully techs on the silly notepad you snatched from an abandoned building. Konig cals you a radracoon, stealing everything that comes your way. Konig says it's a given, since you're from the Wastelands - Brotherhood picked you up like a lost puppy on the way from a bloody mission. Konig wasn't a paladin yet, only a handful of years older than you - but you're with him now. Young and naive, eager to please. Konig wonders what you would do if he asked you to suck his cock. Would probably get on your knees like a good girl. Maybe you'd oil his armor too. Maybe you'd like to fuck him while he is still halfway in the armor. A testament to his strength. Brotherhood is all about breeding numbers from the top, so you know Konig will have to have children some day. He has no idea what courting is - you don't know either - so he just brings you extra lunch. Some pieces of less radiated meals. Smashes a cake stand with his power fist and gets you a desert with only moderate amount of mold. Gets hard at the sight of your shining bright eyes and has to curse under his breath - armor wasn't built for the wearers to have huge boners because their servants are too fucking adorable.

Konig knows he deserves someone stronger - he has other people, actually, tending to his needs and watching his back. Team is a small task force, with a few knights always stationed nearby - Brotherhood doesn't want to love its glorified paladin toy. You're here for the stress relief, like a shining puppy of justice and poor life decisions. You idolize Konig - not the Brotherhood. It's a mistake, a huge one. A fucking liability. Konig smiles and squeezes your cheeks. Plays with your hair. Metal hand tangling in the dirty strands. You are taking care of his supplies, of his food, of cleaning his armor. When he comes to you at night, allowing you to take the first shift, you aren't even surprised when he points at his cock. Aching and ready to burst - your hands aren't soft when they slip around it, trying to understand how to make them feel better, but Konig appreciates the pain. Gets a hand in your hair, still giant even out of armor. Tells you to be rougher, not to treat him like a little bitch. You obey, as tender as you are. Maybe fascinated a little. Brotherhood doesn't do marriages, but Konig already knows who he will choose to breed with.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #fallout #fallout!au

[voidsentprinces]

Graphic design is my passion...anyway!

Welcome to the Countdown to Dawntrail, at time of posting, we have 9 Weeks to go!

So here's the deal. You select one (or more if you want) prompts. And either write or screenshot to correspond with it. And then just do it within the week. No need for daily submission, just...whenever you have time for it. Stress free. Don't feel rushed. Just do it when you got the chance and inclination. Stretch those creative muscles when possible. And I hope my lack of good looking *gestures* encourages those with lesser experience in writing, gposing, what have you...to join in.

For those whose phone won't load the picture or whatever:

COUNT DOWN TO DAWNTRAIL

WEEK 1: A REALM REBORN

PROMPTS:

Beginning City

Starting Job

Scion

Race

Primal

XIVth Legion

A Realm Reborn Raid

The Crystal Braves

Beast Tribe

Discipline of Hand or Land Guild

A Realm Reborn Dungeon

A Realm Reborn Region

You can just @ me if you want to show off and I'll reblog. But its just something fun and relaxing to do.

#countdown to dawntrail

[greywritesthings]

Too tired to make sense

Spencer Reid x Bilingual!Reader

Fluff

Warnings - None

A/N - I'm still learning so my French isn't perfect! Thanks to @itsleilabxtch for proofreading it <3

This may become a series!

Masterlist

SR Masterlist

You were like a breath of fresh air to the BAU. With Hotch, Reid, Morgan and Emily returning to the team and the newer agents leaving to other posts or retiring to spend time with their families the team looked the same as it had a decade a ago but far less bright eyed and hope filled, apart from you. You were added onto the team as a transfer from the Foreign counterintelligence unit due to your masters and in progress doctorate in forensic psychology and linguistics. You were considered young for the BAU but you had the intelligence and experience so Hotch took you on after a quick interview and a look over your paperwork and completed cases from FCI. He was happy to have a new agent that had a new skill set and didn't carry the same traumas the rest of the team did, he just hoped the job wouldn't break your spirit the same it did the rest of the team. 

You had just been introduced to the team when a case came in. “Crime fighters we are off to Amarillo Texas” Garcia announced as she walked back into the round table room, Causing you to take a seat and look up to the screen she was now standing in front of, you would get settled in later. 

You didn’t get time to get settled in for a week, the case itself was short but so was your sleep. You were doing twenty hour days for six days straight and by the time you reached your hotel, showered and did your other nightly routine items you had a total of two and a half hours of broken and unsettled sleep. It meant by the time you sat down on the jet your brain was running at 2 miles an hour on nothing but adrenaline and shitty police coffee. 

“So, how you feeling after your first case, sweetheart?” Derek asks as he settles in opposite you. “Bien, nous avons attrapé le gars et sauvé une victime, c'est donc une bonne chose, mais je suis tellement fatigué que ce n'est même pas drôle.” “Fine, well we caught the guy and saved a victim so that's good but I'm so tired it's not even funny.”  You smile at him, slurring your words together slightly, not registering the language change. 

You had grown up in England but you were raised by an American Father and French English Mother, it meant you had a mixed accent when you were speaking English if you were exhausted or drunk and that you often reverted back to French.

“What’d you say? I don’t speak that whole French, Italian, Spanish thing. Care to repeat for us English only speakers?” He responds to you jokingly, you still hadn't registered the switch so you were confused, thinking your accent was just coming on heavier than usual. You ask “Qu'entendez-vous par français, italien, espagnol ? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” “What do you mean by French, Italian, Spanish? What's wrong?” Derek continues looking at you in confusion before smiling at you and standing up.”You are clearly too tired to make sense, talk to you later honey” He ruffles your hair as he leaves, going to take up the seat opposite Spencer, whispering something to him as he sits down. Spencer then nods, finishing his page before standing up and making his way over to you. 

“y/n, vous parlez en français, pas en anglais, c'est pourquoi Morgan était confus.” “y/n, you're speaking French, not English, which is why Morgan was confused.” He says as he sits down where Derek just left. “Quoi? Mon dieu, Désolé, je n'avais pas remarqué” “What? God, sorry I hadn't noticed.” You give him a sheepish smile.

“C'est bon, Emily et moi le parlons de toute façon, donc vous pouvez nous parler en français aussi, et si vous voulez dormir, les lits sont libres, on peut y aller ensemble si vous voulez?” “Its okay, Emily and I speak it anyway so you can speak to us in French too, and if you want to sleep, the beds are free, we can go together if you want?” He asks quietly, nodding to the long empty bed behind you both. You smile at him and nod, shifting around to stand up, shivering slightly against the cooler air in comparison to the small cocoon of warmth you had built around yourself during the flight so far. 

You both make your way over to the sofa bed and Spencer sits down first. “Voulez-vous poser votre tête sur mes genoux ? Les coussins sont comme des pierres, croyez-moi.” “Would you like to put your head on my lap? The cushions are like rocks believe me.” He asks, folding up a blanket when you give him a nod and a smile, a small blush covering your features, thankfully not visible in the dim lighting of the plane given that mostly everyone was trying to sleep. 

Soon enough you were settled on the sofa, curled into a ball with your head on Spencer's lap. He had pulled out a book and began reading while you stared ahead or at the floor, at the point of exhaustion where you were unable to sleep. You were growing restless, your foot was tapping against the edge of the seat as you tried counting sheep as a last resort, knowing it wouldn't work when Spencer started talking again, lowering the book in front of you, you noticed he wasn’t just talking, rather reading to you. “Calmez-vous, ma chérie” “Calm down darling.” He whispers to you when he takes a pause in a paragraph. And with him reading the book and the low whirr of the engine you eventually fall asleep.

Taglist - @reidstheyfriend , @oosnapitskat, @lover-of-books-and-tea , @cultish-corner, @pleasantwitchgarden

Join my taglist here!

#greyswritings #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #derek morgan #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds

[10yo-anon]

✩ STUDY SESSION. ✩

Satoru x reader

♡⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹♡

♡⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹♡

⚠️: uh..smut?? idk the specific names. quick drabble so not proofread! any1 can interact!!

WC: jus a lil drabble.I aint counting allat 🙏😭 (its 706. i got curious.)

A/N: life sucks. here's my attempt to write smut 😔

♡⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹♡

why did people never tell you medical exams were this stressful? . . . well...they did. you just never believed them enough. but it's still their fault they didn't exaggerate it enough!

that's what you kept ranting to your Satoru as you studied— can you even call it studying? though you had everything ready on your bed, your books, notes, blah blah blah, all you really did was sit right beside it and play music... but on the bright side, you only started rambling when Satoru walked into your room! that's already a point for you!

but oh were you grateful for your concerned boyfriend, putting all his time into helping you out... at the same time you also despise him... despite the way he won't move until you answer his little Q&A right.

♡⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹♡

"awh.. c'mon baby.. don't tell me you can't answer... I promise its the last question." you hate the way Satoru smiles at you like that.. knowing damn well why you can't even focus... acting like he isn't folding you in half right now.. balls deep inside you and not moving.. "you know I'll give you what you want after this.."

"m' tryin!.." you pant, mind fuzzy as you beg for him to move already. "ah ah, you have to answer first, pretty." he lightly pats your cheek to taunt you.

Satoru drops his head down to nibble on your neck as he waits for you to talk, trying to distract himself from fucking you dumb because as much as he wants to, he knows you want to pass your exams. besides, he's only edging you for a purpose!

he soon eggs you into squealing the answer out when his free hand slides down to rub soft circles on your clit, hissing as your gummy walls squeeze around his leaking cock.

"There we go.. see? such a smart girl you are." he praises, and you turn your head to the side in embarrassment before his free hand grabs your chin to make you face him, his other hand slapping your now puffy clit.

"now, you wanna tell me what you want?" you shake your head no, instead, you attempt to grind against him, trying to find friction. he only laughs before his hand goes to your inner thigh, pinning you down and still.

"w..wha?— n-no! ah, need... need more!" you whine, "need what, doll?" he asks, happy with himself as he managed to make you this desperate so quickly. "I need you, 'Toru! puh—please jus' fuck me already! I answere—" you get cut off as he pulls out 'till his tip is barely in you before harshly thrusting you, barely giving you time to get used to the intrusion.

"Aah.. shit— really squeezin' me here.. don't worry, ngh.. I'll give ya what you need..!" both of his hands now on your thighs, spreading them apart as he sets a slow and rough pace, his pink tip kissing your cervix with every thrust, leading to your mouth in an o shape, eyes rolling back to meet stars.

"mmn! ah...! s-so good!" you shamelessly moan out, arms wrapping around his neck. He watches you intently, angling his hips to penetrate your g-spot before speeding his pace.

as you get more and more vocal, he suddenly kisses you, his tongue meeting yours, shutting you up. "stay quiet, sweets... you don't want people to know you're such a slut now.." he groans into the kiss, but it only turns you on more. "h—haah... t-tch. of course you'd want them to know.. what will I ever do with my kinky baby."

You close your eyes shut, feeling your body on the edge of an orgasm. " m' s-so close, s-sooo—" Your walls tighten around his cock, and he throws his head back as a ring of your cum forms at the base of his dick.

"baby— shitshitshit! aah... please lemme c-cum inside..!" you eagerly nod your head, and his thrusts get sloppier and sloppier before his tip pokes through your cervix, shooting thick ropes of cum.

As he catches his breath, he scans your face, and it's obvious you're fucked out. "darling, you can't sleep yet.. we've only finished one topic. You still have a lot more questions to answer..."

♡⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹♡

A/N: and im asking WHYYY LORDDDDD!!! (shoutout to the ballad of jane doe case i love that osng sm)

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru fluff #satoru smut #gojo fluff #gojo smut #satoru #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #☆— 【 fanfiction !! 】

[wtftarot]

PAC: What are the truths you need to face

Another thanks to @lifeofaie for suggesting this pac. If you've got a pac idea feel free to send it to my inbox!

This one can be a little bit of a call-out, but I mean, it is a reading on what truths you need to face.

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember use common sense and don't be a dumbass.

Pick either the Sword, the Cat or the Stars and head on to your reading

The Sword

This group is kinda heavy, please be gentle on yourself.

The High Priestess, Four/Cups, The Tower, and the Seven/Wands on the bottom of the deck.

So, y'all kinda already know what truths you need to face. The problem is you're fighting them off. Y'all may be asking spirit or your guides a lot of questions that you already know the answers to. I'm hearing 'where there's smoke there's fire". With the Tower here, there's one truth in particular that you know that if you let yourself look at it head-on, things will have to change. It could even be painful to look at it head-on, (if it is please have some support when you choose to face it) It's like, all the signs are there but you're still iffy on it. This could be a person who you've started to notice the red flags or a situation that you know is bad but you won't let yourself really focus on just how bad. A few of you I'm getting, keep reading romance/ what are they thinking PACs for a person that you know isn't treating you right and maybe ignoring when the readings tell you that. I'm not trying to be harsh or call anyone out. I don't think any of the truths this group is facing are easy, little ones. I'm actually hearing the word "catastrophic". I know how scary it is to face something that you know will hurt. Cause part of it is admitting that it hurt and actually letting yourself feel that hurt instead of pretending it's not there. You are so brave and so so fucking strong and you will get through this. The advice for you is this be gentle on yourself and fucking tough on the situation. This will be hard and you want to give yourself time and space to rest and rebuild your strength. Then kick its fucking ASS. Bad shitty work/living situation? Setting boundaries with a shitty fucking person? Digging yourself out of a mental health pit? All of these are fucking tough as hell but you survived, ya know what that makes you right? Tougher than hell, that's what. Be fuckin cut-throat when it comes to getting things to a better place and then REST, alright? Eat, drink a lot of water, and do things that make you happy. Cause this is fucking hard and you need to take care of yourself. You are smart and capable and you deserve fucking better. Another thing that your guides keep pushing is support, you fuckin need it. I dunno if y'all have been trying to deal with all of this alone or if you haven't told anyone you're struggling but you need to. I'm fuckin serious. Talk out loud to spirit if you have to, just saying things out loud or writing them down can really help you process what's going on in your head. I believe in y'all.

random ass vibes: 10:10, Blue, camping, birds, 90s, cat cartoons,

The Cat

The Emperor Rx, the Star, The World Rx, and the Eight/Cups on the back of the deck

Listen, I don't really do relationship advice but some of y'all need to be told that you can't change him. You can't and no, he won't change for you. And you shouldn't go into a relationship expecting a person to change. That's not for everyone, take it as it resonates. You need to take action towards what you want. Y'all are dreamers and that's awesome. It seems though, they're just staying dreams. I'm a Pisces moon, I'm not judging y'all at all when I say this but y'all really kinda live in a fantasy. Y'all seem to have this tendency to ignore what's in front of you for what it could be. The way it's coming through is that y'all are leaving so fucking much on the table that could EASILY be yours but the fantasy obviously is more than reality could ever be so that's where your mind wants to stay. Thing is, y'all know we don't live in a fantasy and you want to do better in reality. BUT you see the fantasy you have as how things "could" be and when you do act on your dreams and they don't match up to the fantasy, you feel inadequate. Like you're not reaching your potential. So, you get down on yourself and never want to pursue your dreams. I know it's hard to accept that reality can never meet the fantasy we build up in our heads. Reality is messy and in our fantasy we never have to shit or floss or maintain what we have, we just have it. The truth is having to accept that life will never be perfect. There is no perfect relationship, perfect job, or perfect life. No routine is going to magically fix your life. The people you love will always have traits that annoy you a little bit, just like you have traits that annoy them a little bit, but you love each other and know you're both worth mild annoyance. It's time to ground your ideas into reality and let them be imperfect. Let them breathe. Y'all are limiting yourself to the idea of perfection. Your life IS going to be a little fucked up and messy no matter what. Some of y'all ain't even perfectionists, you just don't believe in yourselves and use things not meeting your fantasies as evidence that you can't do it. I'm not getting much in the way of advice for y'all other than to act? If this is your group then I'm betting you've had an idea of what this has all been referring to for you and know what action comes with that. Good luck!

random ass vibes: Gilmore girls? starting tarot reading (hell yeah!) a good nights sleep, 122,

The Stars

Judgment Rx, Four/Pentacles, The Hermit Rx, Two/Swords Rx and the High Priestess on the back of the deck.

So, first thing is: that you can't manifest yourself past the time some things need to take. Some things just take time. Y'all seem to be holding on to this idea that you're not the active force in your own life making things happen? It feels like there's a person or a group of people, or maybe you believe in fate but there's something that y'all are endowing with more power in your life than you. It's like to you it doesn't matter what you want, what decisions you make because it'll work out how this other thing deems it should. Your judgment doesn't matter. Some of y'all even feel like you don't have a say in who YOU are. Y'all may have had or do have really controlling parental figures. But FUCK. That's devastating, y'all. I can't imagine feeling like you're not the driving force in your own life. Listen, I don't believe in fate, destiny, soul-mates, or "meant to bes" and I am not judging y'all if you do but fate isn't engineering every single little thing in your life. It's not all that serious, I promise. You can just do things. It's not all make-or-break-life-altering-weight-of-cosmic-destiny-on-your-sholders. Your life shouldn't be focused on figuring out what your fated path is and sticking to that rigidly. Why? Cause that's not life, babe. That's following a script. The truth for y'all is that you are the driving force in your life and you need to start trying to see yourself that way. And this reading is looking to be short cause it's kinda existential, but you have free will and can choose and act and change things. If there is a "path" it's a vague one and you're making the rest up as you go. You can just step off of it. Anytime. Head in any direction you want. You don't have to be with that person if you don't want to just cause someone said y'all were soul mates. You don't have to choose that career just cause it seems "fated", if you hate it, hate it and leave. YOU make the decisions.

random ass vibes: Russian Doll (tv show), 144, reds and yellows, thumb bone part that looks like a chicken leg lol? Disorientation by Katie Mack

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot readings #pick a card reading #pick a picture #wtftarot #tarotblr #pick a photo #intuitive

[amarauder]

peter johnson and the flying wine bottles ♆ percy jackson x reader

PAIRING; Percy Jackson x Neighbor! Reader

REQUEST; N/A

GODLY PARENT: Demeter

DATE; May 1st, 2024

WORD COUNT; 2440

WARNING; Illegal activities, aka buying alcohol illegally

A/N: IM BACK MOTHERFUCKERS. tehehe I know its been years oops. Not my best work but its here and thats all that matters to me at this point.

TRAILER; In which Percy Jackson meets his neighbor by accidentally almost killing himself and her multiple times.

REQUESTED BY: N/A

--

Percy locks up his flat, double then triple checks everything is secure. He knows it’s a little over the top to be this careful with his security system, especially since his apartment complex is in the heart of New Rome. But after everything he has been through it gives him a little peace of mind knowing he is coming back to a hopefully monster-free apartment.

Things have been weird for Percy since Annabeth left. He hasn’t exactly hit the devastated stage that everyone, including him thought would be his reaction. Instead, it’s been like he has been going through the motions. Nothing has been that bad or great, just kind of there.

Piper has concluded that he is in shock. He suspects that she’s right. It’s almost like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like Annabeth’s on a quest and he hasn’t heard from her for a few weeks and he’s a bit concerned for her well-being. But it’s been a little over two months now and Percy hasn’t felt any different.

 The only difference that Percy has felt is annoyance towards Piper. She won’t stop badgering him about meeting this girl. It’s constant, nonstop talking about how they would be perfect for each other and how Percy just needs to get back out there.

The only thing Percy needs is a break. A break from all the sympathetic stares, the hopeful girls, and gods forbid Piper. He knows that she has his best interest at heart. He appreciates it, he really does. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside whenever his friends want to do something nice for him, but this just isn’t what Percy needs or wants right now.

What Percy needs is some time with his friends and maybe some free food which is exactly why he is heading over to Leo’s for a BBQ with the gang.

Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he heads over to the elevator then promptly almost dies tripping over air. It’s then that Percy realizes that he actually hadn’t fallen over air, he tripped over what looked like either a really long root or a vine? What the Hades? How did that get there?

He goes to pick it up when he realizes there’s a girl standing there waiting for the elevator. She’s holding a wine bottle, and what looks like the biggest plant Percy has ever seen. It would explain where the weird vine-root thing came from.

“Hey,” he starts, only to be interrupted by a scream and a face full of soil.

“Oh my God!” Screeches the plant. It takes Percy a second to realize that it is in fact the girl screaming and not the plant. To be fair, Percy has seen too many outer-worldly oddities in his life, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the plant talking. “I am so sorry!”

Percy laughs and rubs dirt off his face, “Don’t be. I shouldn’t have scared you.” When he finally gets all the dirt off, Percy realizes she put the plant down. She’s pretty. Like really pretty actually. It takes Percy’s brain a second to catch up to all this new information.

She waves his apology away, “I scare way too easily. You should see me during October.”

“Halloween can get pretty spooky around here.” She tilts her head to the side in a way that remind him of a cute puppy. “Cause all the ghosts, ya know?”

Her eyes widen, “There are ghosts here?”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen them?” She shakes her head, “There’s one named Vector. He’s my favorite.”

“Why am I even surprised? My Mom is a Greek god. Of course there would be ghosts! What’s next? Flying monkeys?”

Percy’s lips quirked, “Don’t give them that idea.”

She laughed and Percy’s chest tightened. “What’s your name?”

“Percy. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. Did you move in recently?” Percy knows he would have noticed or remembered her.

She puts her finger next to her lips. Percy is momentarily entranced. “I think around a month ago. I just started at New Rome University.” As she was chattering on about college Percy noticed the wine bottle slowly starting to slip out of her grip. Thanks to his demigod reflexes, Percy caught the bottle just in time.

“Oh!” She said in surprise. “Thanks! I didn’t even know it was falling.”

“No worries. I got it.” The elevator dings and they both head in. College? They were about a quarter into the fall semester. “What are you studying?”

“Agriculture.”

Percy’s eyebrows rise. That was not what he was expecting.  “Cool, my best friend from home is really into plants and stuff.”

Y/N’s lips quirked, “Plants and stuff?”

Percy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Thankfully, he was saved from answering by the elevator. Even though he was glad he didn’t have to answer to his stupidity, Percy still felt a pang in his chest. He really didn’t want to part from her but didn’t know how to tell her that without sounding creepy. She gives him good vibes. Percy’s always loved people like that.

“Where are you headed off too?” He eventually asks after sneaking what he hopes is casual glances at her as they exit the building.

She bounces on her toes a bit, “This girl I just met invited me to their friend’s place. I’m a bit nervous to be honest. I don’t know anyone besides her.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ve loved talking to you and we’ve only just met.” Percy’s face went beet red. That was not how it was supposed to come out. “I-I mean you’ve been fun to talk to.”

They both laugh for a second, falling quiet quickly enough to make Percy feel awkward. He wishes he had more to say, if only to keep Y/N around him a little longer.

Y/N beams, “Thanks, Percy. I’m glad that I finally met someone in this apartment complex. Everyone here seems like busy bodies and never wants to talk.”

Percy shrugs. He’s noticed that too but never felt too bothered by it. Though, he isn’t the one who moved away from friends. “You get used to it. Here’s your wine bottle.” He hands her the wine bottle and Percy swears he gets déjà vu from a few minutes ago. Just as the wine bottle leaves his fingertips its soaring to the floor and crashes all over both of them. Fortunately, Percy isn’t hurt but he’s more concerned about Y/N to care.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/N puffs out she looks more shocked than anything. Percy feels like a giant idiot. First, he scares her, and Y/N’s plant almost goes flying everywhere. Then, he distracts her enough to almost drop the bottle. Now, after all of that mess he literally just fucks it all up. What are the odds?

It seems Y/N read his mind because she starts to giggle, “I think the Gods just don’t want me to bring wine today.”

As soon as they clean up the mess they head out. Percy had almost cut himself on the glass once or twice but he couldn’t complain much. He had been through worse things than a cut. Both of them had mumbled to each other the entire time about Why the Gods had decided the third time was the charm but decided against mentioning anything else as Y/N still had her plant to carry the rest of the way.

Percy only wishes that Mr. D was here to witness this. He could practically hear the “Peter Johnson!” from New Rome.

“Where are you headed too?” Y/N questions as they both come to a complete stop outside the building.

“To buy you a new wine bottle.” Percy says gesturing with his head towards town. He knows he’ll be late to Leo’s thing, but he can’t really bring himself to care. Percy also knows that Leo, out of all people, will be understanding especially if he mentions a girl.

“What?” Y/N says and grabs his arm, effectively stopping him. “No way. I am not allowing you to buy me a new wine bottle. I was the one who dropped it.”

Percy will admit that it was mostly her fault. It had been in her hands when the accident occurred. But Percy was first and foremost Sally Jackson’s son and if Sally taught him anything it was how to be polite to a pretty girl. “I was the one handing it to you.”

Y/N crosses her arms and shakes her head stubbornly. “No way, Percy! I am not allowing you to buy me one. I’ll buy my own and be on my way.”

“Fine but at least let me walk you to the wine store.” Y/N seems to consider this as her eyebrows scrunch a little less but she still doesn’t uncross her arms. She seems to agree nonverbally since she starts to walk with him.

“So, Do you know Mr.D?”

“Who?”

“Mr.D,” Percy confirms, “Dionysus? Camp Half-Blood’s camp director?”

“Oh,” Y/N murmurs, “I’ve heard of him from my friend, but I’ve never been to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Did you go to Camp Jupiter then?”

She shakes her head. Percy is officially confused. Where did she grow up then? How did she stay away from monsters? “I’m lost. Were you at home then?”

“For some reason, I never really got into trouble with monsters. Sure, weird stuff would happen to me throughout the years but my teachers would just put it off as overactive imagination. It wasn’t until my high school graduation that a monster came after me and my Dad finally brought me here. Next thing I know I’m enrolled at New Rome with my own apartment. What about you?” She questions innocently.

Percy huffs out a laugh. Oh, where to start. He settles on a simple, “I grew up at Camp Half-Blood.”

Y/N nods mutely. It gets a little awkward for a second and Percy wishes he paid a little more attention to his Mom’s rom-com movies. He’s never met a girl like this before. The only other girl he had ever been interested in was Annabeth and they had been friends forever before they even started dating. He was treading new waters.

Fortunately, they turned the corner and the wine store was a few steps away. “There it is,” Percy said and pointed. He was starting to feel nervous and he didn’t know why. Y/N went to open the door, but Percy beat her to it.

She turns around with a teasing smile on her face, “Thanks, Percy. So, want to tell me if your legal or not?”

It takes Percy a second to realize what she is talking about. Oh, buying alcohol. “Yeah, I’m 21. How old are you?”

“19.”

Oh. Oh. Percy shrugs, he’s certainly not one to shy away from illegal adventures. (A/N: DO NOT DRINK ILLEGALLY KIDDOS. NOT COOL AT ALL.) That would just be hypocritical.

Y/N heads over to the wine section and Percy follows after her like a lame, lost puppy. He needs to start acting a little cooler.

“White or red?” Percy asks.

“Champagne.” She answers immediately, with no hesitation. Alright, champagne it is. That’s a little too fancy for Percy’s taste. He’s more of a red Josh man but to each their own. He likes his six-dollar wine, thank you very much. Judgement is not tolerated within this household.

“Perfect” she says and grabs the champagne before making a beeline to the counter. Percy races after her digging for his wallet. He was not about to let her pay. He finally fishes it out of his pocket and waits for the man to check her out.

While Percy is waiting, he can’t help but admire her. She chatters away to the man as he looks over what Percy is assuming her fake ID. Making small talk in a way Percy never could.

The man gives it back to her and rings her up, “19 dollars and 75 cents, ma’am.”

Percy is quick to give his card to the dude. The cash register guy sighs and Y/N looks appalled. “No way. I am paying for it, Percy!”

He gently nudges her out of the away and hands the card over to him. He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care which one of you is going to sugar-mama the other. But whoever pays I have to see some ID.”

Percy digs in his pocket for his identification and hands it over. The man’s eyes widen, he looks at the picture then back to Percy. “You’re Percy Jack-“

“Yup,” Percy interrupts. He isn’t self-centered enough to think that Y/N has heard of him before but just in case, Percy wants to keep that information to himself for now.

The man’s demeanor instantly changes now that he knows who he is cashing out. “Have a good rest of your day!” He yells cheerily after him. When they head out, Percy can hear him whisper-yelling to his coworker about who he just checked out.

Y/N looks a little alarmed at the situation, especially probably the way Percy rushed her out. “What was that about?”

“Nothing” Percy waves her away. “That guy was just” He hesitates, “Weird.”

She makes a face, “Yeah, he really was. I can’t believe we did it though! I have never used my fake before.”

Percy takes a step back, “What? How did you get the wine from earlier then?”

“Oh, my Dad bought that for me.” Percy scoffs, Sally would be disappointed to find out that he was anywhere near alcohol. The thought fills him with a little guilt. She smiles and Percy’s chest hurts a little. This is where they say goodbye he realizes. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Percy. I’m glad the Gods made our paths cross.”

He grins, “Me too, Y/N. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, Percy.”

As Percy heads over to Leo’s place, he realizes how fast his heart is pounding and he can’t stop smiling. Somehow, he knows it’s not from their illegal adventure.

#percy jackson x reader #amarauder writings

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 6

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too. In this part specifically: smutty-ish stuff (18+), cursing, angst

Words: 2305

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You’re drunk, you think. Head is too foggy to be explained by anything else. Your brain struggles to pin down a well-developed thought. Good. You’re not here for well-developed thoughts. You don’t want a well-developed thought. What you want is to feel. And right now, you feel blissfully intoxicated. 

When you spun around and kissed him, he wasn’t expecting it. Despite it being his bright idea, it took him a few seconds to catch up. Your arms were already wrapped around his neck, your lips and teeth trying to pry some playfulness out of him with little nibbles by the time it registered in his head that you had caved for him. Then he snapped fully alert, like he’d been locked in a cage and you turned the key to set him free. 

He’d instantly removed your arms from his neck and placed your hands at his waist, then he cupped your cheeks in rough palms and gave you what you wanted; what you know he’s been wanting to give you for weeks.

And you continue to let him give it to you. You give him complete control and allow him to take advantage because somehow he knows what you like. He did then, and he does now. 

You like a paced rhythm of lips; needy, eager, but lacking the fumbling of an inexperienced or equally mind-numb partner. 

You like hands that tangle in your hair before they carve a path down to your hips. 

You like fingers skimming your midriff and the tingles that come from soft touching morphing into possessive grabbing. 

You like fingerprints bruised into your skin from being held still as a jeans-constrained cock grinds against your core.

You like the melody of his moans and how he doesn’t try to hide them from you. Like he needs you to know exactly how you affect him so you can understand the power you possess. 

You like the taste of his tongue, and the way he smells. He smells like the forest in the moonlight, and the rays of the sun in springtime, but also like the sea when its waves are enraged by wild winds. He smells like the earth. He smells human. He tastes human. He sounds human. 

His human fingers go to your neck, applying light pressure until you whimper against his lips. He grins into the kiss. Different fingers on a different hand fiddle with the button of your jeans, popping it open and dragging down the zipper. 

You’re already warm, but it’s hotter when his hand slips behind the thin band of your underwear. That heat becomes almost unbearable as fingers near your clit and brush over the bundle of nerves. And when two digits finally nestle themselves within your folds, you burst into a ball of flame.

A ball of flame that forces your eyes to shoot open and the loose screws in your brain to retighten before they have a chance to fall out completely. Your eyes snap shut again because it feels so fucking good when his middle finger teases your entrance. Your walls are hungry for something to clamp down around. No, not something—him. You’re hungry for him, and your body is not going to forgive you for the betrayal, but this is…wrong. All wrong. You have to stop. What you’re doing changes nothing. He is not who you want him to be. You are not who you were. And this place is not what you once knew, no matter the memories you attempt to revive from its history. 

Tears begin to gather and squeeze through your sealed eyelids. He doesn’t notice them as his lips break from yours to press a kiss to your cheek and then your jaw before they latch onto your neck. With your gasp, your hands fist the fabric of his t-shirt. A fingertip is easing inside of you and your body lurches toward him. Deeper. More. You want it. So bad.

Wait, no! Your brow furrows. 

No, you don’t want it! 

Think of what he has done to you. Think of what he has stolen. Think of how he shows no shame.

“No!” you snap as you jerk your head from his and shove him off of you. Lips, fingers, taste, scent—gone, dousing you in a piercing chill. 

Jade-toned eyes are full of fear and confusion as he takes a step near you. “Angel–”

“No!” you repeat, your finger pointed at him. You shake your head, trying to breathe as you back out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“What did I do?”

“No!” you say once more. Harsher, louder, your tears falling harder. “You ruin things!”

His breath is heavy. Chest heaving. “What?”

“You killed my plant!” you sob, “And the cat is gone!”

“You didn't have a cat,” he says.

“You take!” you tell him. “That’s all you do—you take! I did everything you wanted so I could come home and feel like me for just one goddamn second, but it’s not home anymore because you took it from me! You ruined it! You tainted it!” you shout. “You tainted me!”

The tears are in such abundance they merge together on their descent to your jaw. Your fingers tremble as you lower to the ground, pull your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around them. 

Jake carefully closes the distance you’d been keeping and crouches in front of you. With his hands on your cheeks, he tilts your face up to his. Eyes flick back and forth between yours. “You are not tainted,” he says. 

Smacking his hands away, you rest your chin on your knees. “There’s nothing left,” you mutter. “I have nothing.”

“You have me,” he pleads. 

“I don’t want you!

Jake freezes in the aftermath of your scream. Then he glances down like he’s looking for the knife you just plunged into his heart. It’s not there, of course. If anyone is guilty of harming anything in this apartment, it’s him. 

He swallows and leans back into a seated position across from you. His hand runs through his hair and down his face, and then he waits. He sits there quietly, watches you as you refuse to look at him, and waits. 

He waits for minutes? Hours? You don’t know; you can’t remember how much time you had left before you kissed him. He waits until he softly says, “Time’s up, Angel.”

He waits some more as if he expects you to respond. When you don’t, he stands. 

“We have to go,” he says. 

“Then go,” you mumble.

Jake sighs and holds his hand out to you. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say, continuing to stare ahead at the wall. “I didn’t do anything. I never did anything.”

“Angel, you promised you’d follow the rules.”

Black streaks float by your head, carried on the wind coming through the open window. In your peripheral vision, you see the feathers find home on Jake’s back until he’s once again the monster who stole you in all of his grandness.

“You need to call your wings,” he tells you. “Do what I taught you earlier, just imagine the opposite.”

You shake your head. 

Jake blows a breath out through his nose. “Angel, please do what I’m telling you. You know I can’t leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t even if you could.”

Jake bends at the waist. He puts his index finger under your chin and lifts so your eyes are stuck on his. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. So let's not play this game. Call your wings.”

“No,” you return through clenched teeth.  

Those red tendrils slither into his irises, but you’re not deterred this time. He doesn’t scare you anymore. Not even when he grabs your wrist, pulls you to your feet, and throws you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of grain. His feathers brush across your face as your head lands between the open spaces in his t-shirt that accommodate his wings. 

Your fist slams into one of the appendages and he grunts, but it doesn’t stop him from heading straight for your bedroom. When he kicks the door open, you pinch your eyelids tight. You don’t want to see the bedsheets with your and his dried sweat or the bra that when removed from your body sprouted gooseflesh up and down your arms. You don’t want to be reminded of how he drank in your breasts with his eyes and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples and sucked one into his mouth. 

Jake leans down and lifts the window that overlooks the street. You curse its size, big enough for two bodies to slip through. 

“Put me down,” you shriek, hitting his other wing this time. 

You can feel when he ducks under the sill, you can hear the rustle of feathers when wings stretch wide, then with one strong flap, you’re back in the wind tunnel that stole your breath. 

—

The moment he touches down, you begin to wiggle in his arms, freeing yourself only to fall directly on your ass in the grass and dirt.

“Get up,” Jake commands. You grumble and rise to your feet, but solely for the sake of removing yourself from his presence. You’ve had enough. Enough of him and of this night. As you head toward The Tower, he says, “Bring your wings back.”

He gives you a few seconds, but when you don’t stop on your path, a whooshing sound arises from behind you before he suddenly drops out of the sky, landing right in front of you and making you jump. 

“Listen to me,” he growls. 

Moving in close, you put your face just a few inches from his. “No.”

That fear returns in his eyes—a briefer flash than you saw earlier. It’s squashed under his innate desire to demand things from you. “You don’t tell me no. Not with this,” he says. “If you don’t bring them back, your feathers will abandon you where you left them.”

“Perfect,” you say, stepping around him. 

Twenty feet from the door. Nineteen. Eighteen. You’re almost there.

“And you’ll have to grow new ones,” he calls after you. 

You pause in your tracks, heartbeat catching in your chest.

“Being without wings can only be temporary. You abandon the old ones, new ones will take their place. No one can stop it.” With his hands on your upper arms, he spins you around. “Do you want to go through that again?”

Immobile; skin shredding; blood running down your spine and soaking the bed; lava coursing through your veins, limbs, organs. Last time you bit your tongue so hard you were surprised your teeth didn’t pierce a hole.

His palms move, grazing up and over your shoulders, dipping into the curves of your neck to frame your face. Thumbs stroke your cheeks. His forehead rests against yours. 

“Don’t make me watch you suffer twice, Angel,” he whispers, begs. “Please.”

You could laugh. He wouldn’t have had to watch you suffer at all if he had left you where you belonged. But even so, you relent, closing your eyes to imagine your wings reforming with the addition of each individual feather until you sense a strange internal response to your call. You don’t do it for him. You do it for you, refusing to relive that trauma. You wonder if Jake understands the difference.

“Did you do it?” he asks, lifting his head. You nod, then he nods, exhaling shakily. “It’ll take longer since we left the feathers there, so make sure to keep that image somewhere in your mind to guide them to you. You might as well rest in the meantime. When your wings are back you can sleep.”

Not waiting to see if he is finished telling you what to do, you step out of his hold, turn on your heel, and walk to the door. Your hand is pressed against the large panel, ready to push it open so you can be free of him when you hear his voice…again.

“Angel.”

You groan, digging your fingernails into the wood before twisting around. You’re going to get fucking whiplash. What, you think as you glare at him. What else could there possibly be?

Jake swallows, then the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“I don't regret bringing you here,” he starts. “Not for a second. And I never will. You have no idea how long I wished to have you with me.

“And regardless of what you believe, I’m not ignorant of the sacrifices. I once gave up the life I had as well,” he says, and your brows knit. “However, this can be home, if you accept it. I want to give you everything, but you have to let me.”

You despise the itty bitty part of you that looks at his offer the way a child looks at a forbidden lollipop, their eyes blown wide, licking their lips before they even have their grubby paws on the damn stick. You cannot listen to that part. To listen would be to lose more of you, and how much more do you have available to lose? You’ve never dissected yourself to figure out how many fragments there are. But something was sucked out of your soul tonight. It left a void that he’s foolish to think he can fill. 

“I don’t have to let you do anything to me, Jake,” you tell him.

Jake shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course it is.”

Leaving him behind, you turn and enter The Tower—a place you would’ve bet your life you’d never be happy to see—and you don’t look back. Not even when a softly muttered “fuck” just barely reaches your ear before the door completely separates you and Jake from one another.

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