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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 3 months

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Fucking in their offices with the veteran trio please ☺️

Wow I'm getting a lot of requests asking for these three actually and I am NOT complaining lol.

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And tldr summary of this entire thing: poor Survey Corps desks, man... the true strongest soldiers ❤️‍🩹

(Gender neutral reader)

(NSFW contents under the cut)

Levi Ackerman

Takes issue with the idea at first, after all this is the place he works - important papers who knows been god-knows-where and shit get signed and handed off at that desk. To fuck on it would be unsanitary you know how many people have touched this thing? Plus it would leave an unnecessary mess, and not to mention the door leading to his connected bedroom is not even like... eleven steps away from it. With a bed. A bed he knows only the two have you have been in and with sheets that are cleaned everyday. Why not just fuck you there instead? It seems obvious. Until, that is, one day you're having a heated argument - one he looks back on as very dumb but he knows how stubborn he can be when not backing down on something, especially when it involves Erwin's equally as stubborn ass who tends to drag him into his messes and therefore creating this argument you had - and he doesn't exactly remember the turning point of when you started kissing each other with such tenacity or when you started ripping each other's clothes off but it's when you're pushed back on his desk, pushing all his neat stacked paperwork onto the floor sprawled back with your legs spread with that demanding "fuck me," glint in yours eyes.

Eh. It just clicked and now he's thinking with his dick.

His kisses are frantic. He bites all over the base of your throat and leaves marks he knows you're going to have trouble hiding the next day but that's honestly the further thing from his mind right now as he has three fingers shoved all the way to the knuckles inside you right now prying your hole practically wide open.

Your legs are anchored on his hips, your pants dangling one of them and the straps of your gear hanging loose off of them keep snapping into his ass to an annoying point where he completely rips them off and tosses them to the complete opposite side of the room.

Yank and pull on his hair. Do it and he'll let put a guttural groan and shove you down further on the desk where your back is completely on it and you have to physically strain to keep your head up from keeping it from hanging over the edge - to 'assist' you from having to do this he puts a hand in your hair in return, holding your head up and make you look as he fucks you with his nearly his entire hand now. It gets your eyes all glossy as you feel so overwhelmed, you feel so good.

"You're pitiful, you know that?" He tells you, picking up the pace as you squeeze around his fingers. "But that's just fine... preferable actually. I love seeing you this way and I'm not even properly fucking you yet."

When he enters you the desk finally creaks. It's a sound that itches his brain turns out, it gets his silver grays all wide that he pauses what he's doing for just a lingering moment - to your dismay as you're now flipped on your stomach on the surface with your ass out, grinding back onto him whimpering for him to move, which he gives a slight buck and there it is again. The creak. He needs to hear it again. Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And-

It's the combination of both your noises - all the moans, groans, curses, whimpers, and gritted calls of his name on your lips - and the wooden thudding, metalic complaining, the slight crackles that his desk, the one he's had since getting promoted to Captain and earning this office, that reeeeaallly gets his rocks off as he pounds you into it.

He thinks about just about how many boring exchanges he's had at his desk, all the meetings, the Cadet reprimantions, that fucking time that noble had the balls to come to his - at the time - brand new office and lecture him and newly appointed Commander Erwin who was visiting up and down how he still didn't approve of this "Gutter-rat thug," getting such a high position of military rank in barely over a year and had threatened to pull fundings. Now look at him. Captain 'Gutter-rat thug,' currently fucking you over it. Weirdly hot. Next time he has those boring exchanges he'll definitely have something nice to distract himself now.

He drapes himself over you from behind, continuing to mark up your neck and whisper in hushed tones all sort of both dirty things mixed with genuine praises of love and adoration - things only meant for you to hear, afterall he can still wreck you to the point of pleasured tears and still be all sappy, you know? It's not like anyone else is around. He likes doing it with one of your legs picked up from off the ground and holding it up in the crease of his arms - spreading you open wider for him to take and every creak and crackle of the desk underneath you is like a euphoric punctuation to ever single thrust he makes deep inside you that only grows louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder until it almost sounds like thunder.

When you two finally finish, both out of breath like you just ran a mile as all your love spills between you does Levi pull back to assess the mess that trickles in flooding globs that forms into large puddles onto the rocky wood that rationality sets back in him like a truck.

"M'gonna have to clean and disinfect that... fucking knows how I'm going to get the damn smell out before those snooping fuckin-"

You move without out saying anything, down on your wobbly knees but you still make eye contact as you perform your next sinful action: licking it all up, every single bit left behind on the hardwood.

Levi just blinks. Dumbfounded.

It doesn't matter how big or small you are, Levi has you picked up and tucked under his arm before he can even realize it - he takes those eleven steps to his and yours shared bedroom and tosses you on the bed and kicks the door behind him close. You two aren't done yet.

It's later the next day when Levi gets a knock at his office door, which he barely even has to let out permission to come in as he currently is reorganizing the some of your books on his shelf and cleaning around the general area as the door opens and comes in Erwin, stack of papers in his hand.

"Levi," He greets closing the door behind him and walking further into the office.

The Captain just hums, setting the current book in his hands down and moving to the next to carefully wipe down the cover and shaky off any gathered dust from the pages. Erwin then stands there awkwardly for a moment, rubbing back his pomade slick hair before speaking again.

"I think I should apologize for causing you and (Name) to argue yesterday at the meeting with Zackley, that wasn't my intention. Again, my apologies."

"I know. Tell them that."

"I will, I just thought I'd come here first. I have the documents you requested."

Levi hums again, with his rag he starts to scrubs down a stain mark on the shelf he hasn't noticed before. Meanwhile Erwin slowly trudges over to the Captain's desk, putting a careful eye on the documents in his hands before he shuffles around where he's facing away from desk and goes to sit down before Levi catches it at the last second from the corner of his eye and immediately goes to yell for him not to and then-

CRUNCH.

Erwin's wide eyed as he now sits on the floor, the desk now cracked into two pieces with him in the middle of it. It'd be funny, it really would, if it were anyone else's but his desk. The Commander looks honestly baffled as he looks at the current unexplainable predicament he's found himself in. Levi silently swallows and hurryingly thinks up the first excuse he can pull out of his ass.

...ass. He points at the blonde.

"Your ass fucking broke my desk."

Erwin blinks before looking back down at the broken wood pile he sits on, chuckle leaving his throat. "I do really do guess Mitras quality still isn't worth much, huh? Overpriced yet completely unstable. Just like the lot of them."

"Your ass broke my fucking desk."

"Yeah - I - I guess it did..."

When he stands up he brushes himself off, looking at the damage that Levi swallows and tries not to think on the truth on actually why it broke - Erwin's ass was just the damn straw that broke the titan's back or whatever the saying goes. He didn't even want to think about how much from the budget it'd take to get this shit replaced but Erwin insists on it, saying Mike's folks actually are good craftspeople, they should be able to build an actual stable one instead of expensive dull and weak Sina bought ones. But yet... Levi wasn't sure on the truth of how weak it was since he fucked your guts out on it... but of course he couldn't just voice that part out loud. So he just quietly nods his head and agrees.

From that point afterwards he swear to you no more desk fucking.... for a good couple weeks then he finds you two at it again - however, Erwin was right, the new desk from Mike's family was very stable, very strong, very capable of withstanding a good dicking between you two.

Let's just hope it doesn't need to get replaced any time soon.

Hanji Zoë

Quite literally will jump at the chance to. Like you could be at the side of their desk, pointing over and drawn together diagrams and other research papers as they sit in their chair with their eyes wide staring at you not paying attention to a single thing you're saying - it's rude, they know, but it's so damn hard when you're so attractive! You don't notice their staring, you keep on talking business and adding your thoughts and commentary about certain test results on the latest experiments done on the two captured titans behind base: Jimmy and Stanley, as Hanji has named them - you only stop talking and look over when you process how quiet they've become, a very unusual thing for your lover, and your about to question what's wrong or if something about the results is troubling to them before they immediately have their hand on your face, cupped between their palm, as pull you down to kiss them.

Titans are quite literally the farthest thing on their mind as they push everything - every single thing, from the research notes you were just going over, to other important pieces of paper, to the junk nit-nacks they've hoarded on their messy desk - all onto the floor as the jolt and push back their chair to stand and pick you up to set you down on the surface and yank off your boots and pants.

They kiss all over your legs, nipping and biting and sinking in your touch as your fingers find the back of their brunette head to encourage their actions. Their breath is so warm against your underwear as they proceed to kiss through the material - getting an approving hum from you - before tantalizingly pluck their fingers in the band to begin to pull them down your legs, revealing your aching-with-need sex to them. But they don't touch you where you want right away, you're going to have to earn it by begging. They remind you of that while tracing their tongue over the worn marks of ODM straps on your thighs then biting at them, deep in the flesh.

Once you've begged enough to their liking do they finally touch you, and they're so good with their fingers, giving you a nice good prep before replacing it with their just as good tongue they devour your sex with. Then with their unoccupied hands they reach and grab around your hips so you can't squirm away from them as they are crouched down at the foot of that desk and go to town with you in their mouth like there's no tomorrow.

Your come stains their face when they finally pull away gasping for air - hadn't pulled away a single time since they started. They smile big at you, with their hands on your hips they scoot you in closer and with a rough sudden movement rocks the desk where you falling slightly forward so they can kiss you, making damn sure you taste yourself on their lips.

You're both on top the desk now. Hanji's - their lower half completely bare - straddled one of your legs as your rearranged as much as you can on the surface space to tangle them together and they have you slightly pushed back to where both your sexes can kiss and grind against each other. With obnoxious squeaks you fuck each other on it like animals.

They talk to you in punched out whispers, their chest - fully exposed as you've ripped open their shirt and tugged off the bandaged to reveal their breasts from underneath and bounce with each movement to two of you make. They also have their glasses pushed up and rest on the top of their head, they bounce with each movement too.

"You like this? You like taking my pussy like this? Naughty little thing... you know, I've noticed you bending over or sitting my desk with your legs open tons of times. Did you want this? But to embarrassed to ask? Huh?"

They get so domineering worked up like this you feel too high to even speak, you nod before your pulling in to more kisses as they completely fuck you further sending you closer and closer to the edge until your light headed and your whole body is numb, you fall back with your bones turned to jelly until everything sudden tightens again and the numbness fazes into hyperawareness when that snap in your gut happens and your practically sob with your release.

When your both done you two keep sitting on there for awhile, you're not even sure how long but Hanji rests into you with a wide smile on their face and half asleep in the crook of your neck but they lazily keep you sitting up and not to fall off onto the floor. It's nice, really nice, your hands stumble as you go to pet at your lover's hair and further relax into them.

But your afterglow safe haven doesn't last long as there's a sudden banging on the office door.

"Squad Leader! Stanley just bit a Cadet's arm off!" Uh oh.

Hanji's eyes go wide and whatever sleep was present in them before completely evaporates as they pull themselves off you. Panic sets it.

"Shit!" They curse and hop off the desk to go immediately pull their clothes sloppily and haphazardly back on - their pants are on backwards. They turn back to you.

"Give me like - uh - twenty minutes! Be right back!"

Incidents like this if word travels fast enough could be used as ammunition against the Corps, not to mention the poor kid...

They give you one last kiss before quickly rushing out the door, slamming poor Moblit in the face with it without realizing it as the shoot down the hall.

"STANLEY!!!"

They sob in a way like a parent just lost their child, which in a weird way they kind of did, they really did like that one... and it's nape's probably already been split open by now.

You should probably get dressed and join them, comfort their 'mourning'... if your legs can unjelly that is.

Erwin Smith

Erwin Smith is the biggest workaholic you've ever met. He spends 80% of his time glued at that damn desk and he can be very stubborn about it so it can take quite a lot to pull him away from it... though, maybe with some slight convincing...

He'll remain focused, neatly writing down his formal documentations to be sent to the capitol along with other important matters gathering his attention, even when you're behind him with your arms around his shoulders and kissing along his neck begging him to take a break as he's been in at one spot for around twelve hours straight. It won't be easy getting him away from work, he'll reassure how important his current business is and will blab on and on about all the detailed variables but honestly you could care less when he looks like he could fall over from overworking himself to death. He at least needed a damn break and you know how you could provide.

Did I mention how stubborn this man is? He won't break, even if you maneuver around in front of him and the desk as he sits there with you dropped on your knees... but he won't exactly say no, so that's start. He'll continue to work, even as you work to start pulling and undoing his belt, he'll continue jotting down on whatever he's working on but he won't stop you - hell he won't even give you any input as the sounds sounds in the office are the jingling of his belt and zipper being undone and the scribbles of pen on paper.

"Do you think Zackley would approve if I were to ask for more horses? It's best we have extra for Expeditions and I think it'd be best if each squad were to bring a couple extra in case one of their horses gets killed on the field."

He asks you, you having his cock buried deep down your throat. Casual - no, business causal in that way Erwin tends to do... but the obscurity for him to ask you about supply horses... you nearly choke because of it and surprisingly Erwin's hand finds to the back of your head to ease and balance your head out but he doesn't completely pull you off if it, as if he's come to terms with the whole situation but still he doesn't pull himself from work. It's clear you're going to easy on him. You will make him take a break from work.

You suck, swallow, take everything he has. Your hands grip tight at his hips as you your your face on his dick in steady but frequent rhythm that does get his hips to slightly buck forward every once in a while but he always comes to pet at your head in apologies if he accidentally put you in discomfort in any way and he carries on - the scribbling on the desk up behind you becoming more grading by the second.

However, there's one ray of hope... his balls.

Erwin will immediately jump in his chair and drop his pen - ink undoubtedly spilling and staining important documents the moment your mouth pulls off his cock entirely and replace it with his balls in your mouth. Play with them. Suck them. Fucking bite them. Anything. Now you have his attention and will earn a loud guttural groan from out his lips that seals the deal you've just locked in your mission success.

He sits completely back in his chair - whatever business details he was going over completely disappear in the back of his mind as both of his large hands find themselves in your head and he vocally encourages you to keep going. His cock will drip pre all over your face as you rest just below it rolling your tongue over his sack and he'll throb so needily for you.

It's then becomes so easy to get lost in everything that you don't even realize you're being pushed back further underneath the desk until Erwin's chair suddenly scoots up to sit up to it proper.

"I got these." Mike.

Mike had walked in and you can hear - and slightly flinch at the loud sound of - a stack of papers being dropped above you on the desktop. You sit there on your knees, slightly uncomfortable at the crowded position underneath the desk, your mouth still attached to Erwin's crouch - but you don't pull away, just look up as much as you can to see your lover manage to keep up sudden appearances to his cadethood friend as best he can... strangely hot in a weird way. And Mike Zacharias was no idiot.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? Though, I do suppose I have quite the workload. I should finish soon."

Mike hums in response but you can't see his face, if you could you feel like it'd be more telling and revealing so, to save from embarrassment it's probably for the best.

Then the bastard sniffs and it sends fifty layers of fear and panic through your spine.

Silence.

"Hanji's holding a card game in their office, there's gonna be booze. I'll expect you not to work yourself to death and come. Bring (Name) too if you want. If you can find them, their squad has been looking for 'em for the past half hour."

Subtly, underneath the desk the Commander feels at your head with an affirming pat. "Will do, see you then, Mike."

You then carefully listen to the boots creak on the floor, you count up sixteen steps before the door opens and clicks close behind. Another beat passes in silence before suddenly the hand on your head tightens it's grip and pulls you forward as the Commander's chair scoots back and away from the desk before he makes your head tilt back and does he look down at you proper for the first time since the encounter started.

"Well," He addresses, voice low and dangerously smooth. "-looks like I'm done with my work, hm? You got what you wanted, you must be so proud."

"Erwin-"

"Pants off. On the desk. Legs spread. That's an order, (Surname)." He says with a crooked smile, the dirty one, the one that sometimes comes out during the most inappropriate of times. That one.

Well, it's your Commander's orders. You yourself grin as you get up to your feet. Who were you not to follow?

It's only a little bit awkward an hour later when the two of you finally step in Hanji's office (pigsty, as Levi calls it) cleaned up the best you could but still the two of you had that 'messed around' aura but no one really seems to question as Hanji jokes it's about time you two showed up before going on a tirade swearing up and down Mike's cheating - he simply raises his nose swearing he's not - before you sit down at the crowded trouble where Levi rolls his eyes and passes out cards for you both, muttering something under his breath you don't quite catch but Mike kicks him under the table for it, causing him to kick harder in return.

It's fun, having little moments of small non battle camaraderie like this, for just a small amount of time all of you get to not think about titans, the Walls, and certain death for once. It's especially nice looking over to Erwin, who is now enthralled in the card game and is a very deceptive cheat to the unexpected opponent and takes plenty of risky gambles as he's known to do - a good amount of people around this table can read him and no when he's lying but it is still rather difficult, his poker face is damn well good and practiced - but even still it's obvious he's having fun and is finally not focused to death on his work which makes you happy. Even if you should've definitely won that last hand.

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dilfhos · 8 months

Text

CORRECTIVE ACTION.

#!WHO; LEVI ACKERMAN

#!CC: fem!reader, power dynamic/abuse(?), fingering, o.sex (giving and receiving) use of “Sir” and “Captain” (duh!), humiliation, spanking, implied oral from Eren, SLIGHT reluctance, audible cucking(?), spanking and a jealously sassy Levi who wants you all to himself (um mix of mentioned arcs idk lol dnt hunt me)

also, since reader is racially ambiguous, i decided to do an experiment to see if blood rushes by spanking my thigh and legs. it does in fact leave a reddish tinge so for my black/darker toned readers—you’re welcome ;)

#!NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

+remastered directly from my ao3! (feel free to read if you wish but fyi its a HAWT mess lmao).

“Repeat, ‘Eren was eating my cunt, Captain Levi.’”…

Knock knock knock.

There wasn’t an answer right away and you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking, even as your nails dug into your palms. In all of the times you had been apart of the Survey Corp, you were never called to the captain’s office this late. Something was different.

"State your name and business. " Levi's firm voice echoed through the door.

"Cadet…sir. You called me down." You gritted your teeth at how awfully timid you sounded. You couldn’t shake the feeling of your stomach rolling over as you awaited his reply.

"Enter." Opening and closing the door behind you stood in front of his desk, frozen in a sharp salute. He sat casually at his desk, leaned back as his feet were crossed precariously on the edge. A plethora of open folders and classified documents laid beside, neatly stacked. His icy gaze trailed over your body, sharp and unreadable as always until you gulped, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze.

"You wanted to see me, Captain." You stated, less of a question. He stood up, his dark eyes locked on yours. He nodded sharply as if to say 'at ease'.

You kept your hands at your sides now, stiff. Sure, your tough exterior was prominent, but you were practically shaking on the inside. Were you in trouble? Did you mess up in the training today? You recalled Levi’s scrutinizing eyes on you when you were pinned by Jean in practice close-combat. The humiliation from your peers as you completely ate dirt while he guffawed victoriously at finally defeating you.

Levi walked slowly around the desk, calling your focus away from your racing mind.

"Earlier today after the mess hall, where were you?"

You gulped. There were a couple possibilities. Outside the cabin whispering to Mikasa where you would be once Commander Pyxis walked out. There was that brief pause passing the latrines as you tried to convince Connie that nothing funny was going on. Then there was the final thing he could have been talking about. And he couldn't have known that, could he? You timed and worked your crude plan as thoroughly as possible, being discreet of your intention and whereabouts.

You weighed the options. You could come clean right then and there and risk his possible violent response or you could play dumb. Maybe he could come up with a less specific reason why you weren't where you were supposed to be at that time. Stupidly, you decided to go with the latter.

"Sir?" Your face grew hot.

He paused in front of you, eyebrow raised.

"Perhaps I can be a bit more specific,” He started. His tone was light yet firm, still conveying a strain which told you to tread carefully in how you should respond at this point. He began a slow, menacing pace in front of you. Not daring to move or even breath, your heart hammered as you stared straight ahead at the wall in front of you, eyes dancing over detailed maps and scribbled notes.

“At that time, what were you doing with Jaeger?"

Your mouth grew dry, lips parting and snapping shut with no sound. There it was. The final nail to the coffin of shame and embarrassment. What made it worse is that he knew that you knew that he knew what was going on. He chuckled dryly at your face, noting that even though he was as specific about it as possible, you tried to remain cool.

"Oh…Don't tell me you forgot Cadet." He said, an amusing lilt to his voice.

"I-Well sir..." The pits of your arms began to itch. Your throat tightened as your eyes slowly flickered to Levi’s who now stopped directly in front of you. Knowing the strict conduct before your superiors from years of condition, you fought the urge to jump back from the spot entirely from his proximity.

Of course you didn’t forget.

How could you forget the feel of Eren’s soft locks threaded through your fingers as his head was buried between your sticky thighs? You could suddenly feel the throb in your hand where you sunk your teeth to keep from screaming his name throughout the barracks. His glinting green eyes gazing up at you, twinkling in the light the nearby lanterns provided. The feel of his fingers as they pumped slowly in your wet pussy was unforgettable to say the least as his sneaky words were burned to memory; "Quiet down. Or else someone’ll get us in trouble."

You could laugh at the irony but your mind was flooded with the brutal lashing of his tongue on your clit as you smothered him, using his face to get off.

But now, as if shifting back into reality, to hell, to what you wish was an embarrassing and cautious dream was your Captain, growing more impatient as he awaited for what he already knew.

"I-I was with Eren.." You said softly. You grimaced expecting some sort of physical action. Slacking off was one thing, even showing signs of weakness. He expected this from his soldiers. They’re simply what the last defense against the Titans were—only Human.

However fraternization was an entirely different matter, seeing the severity of a more complex reality. Especially under the supervision of Commander Erwin and Captain Levi who were already under a lens, protecting Eren, the newly discovered Attack Titan. It was silent, the captain staring at you and you back at him.

"While he was eating your cunt. Correct?" He spat shamelessly and your eyes snapped up to meet his. Big mistake; he narrowed his gaze and you looked away, face ablaze in humiliation.

“Say it.”

“Say what, Sir?” You said slowly. This only pissed him off, urging his hand to shoot out and grip your jaw, yanking you to face him. This was unorthodox, wrong perhaps, but he was your superior and what made you any more innocent?

“Repeat, ‘Eren was eating my cunt, Captain Levi.’” He pulled you in and spun around with precision, making you hit the desk. You cried out at the wood digging into the small of your back as his face got closer to yours. His voice dripped with malice and you would be lying if you said it didn’t frighten you down to your core. You couldn't figure out where all of this was coming from. Was this about being caught or something else entirely?

“Eren was...he was eating my cunt,” You squeaked, words rushing out of you as if to get it over with. His brow raised and his thumb and finger dug deeper into your skin. Your eyes glanced at the twitch in his lip.

“Captain...” He started.

“Captain Levi.”

“Good girl,” He released you and stepped back.

“Wasn’t too difficult, you are one of my brightest after all.” He mumbled, taking in the confusion and fluster on your face.

“Now, remove every last piece of clothing from your body.”

“Sir?” A smirk played at his lips in the horrified expression you gave him.

“By the way you’re staring dumbly at me and the fact you responded provides evidence that you clearly heard what I said.” He deadpanned.

Damn, the authority in his tone shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did as he spoke in the same bark he would anyone else. It shouldn’t have, after all you were a cadet and he, your Captain. It was taboo to say the least. But beneath the glare he was giving you, it was only right to assume that you had no other choice.

Hesitantly, you obliged, slowly peeling off your uniform and revealing more and more of your skin. The captain wanted nothing more than to bite and bruise every inch of your body, marking and claiming you physically as property of the Survey Corp, his battalion. His. The notion that he was your superior wasn’t lost on him, in fact that only fact made it all the more desirable. Bonus, if he could get it in your mind that Eren was the last person you should be disappearing off with.

Once you were completely naked, his precise movement had you turned around and bent over his desk, knocking contents onto the floor. His eyes narrowed at the sight of his papers scattered around at his feet. A mess; God he just finished that paperwork.

"C-Captain ‘m sorry I...I dont-" You fumbled.

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak...Cadet." He sloppily kissed your shoulder as his hand circled to cup your pussy, massaging his thumb against your clit. You keened unintentionally at the friction, your body shivering slightly against his body. His other came down hard against the surface of your ass catching you by surprise. Tears pricked your vision at the stinging pain he left behind. Levi could only stare at the mark he left by his hand before another blow was delivered in the same spot, causing you to cry out again.

Despite how painful it was, Levi couldn’t help but notice how much wetter you grew. By the time he was through, you were shaking and practically dripping slick down your thighs. He retracted his wet fingers and turned you to face him, drinking up the glossy gaze you offered him. It caused his pants to tighten painfully at the groin.

“Get on your knees.”

While you were now looking up at the raven-haired male removing unbuttoning his slacks, you couldn’t help but rock side to side, smushing your thighs to alleviate the arising arousal. His cock finally sprung free from the clothed confines. He was an impressive size and you couldn’t help but ogle as it pulsed slight, nestled in a bed of neatly trimmed hair. He gripped the back of your head pulling you closer and without his verbal go-ahead, you gripped his cock enticing a hiss from him.

How eager to please, Levi thought darkly, trying to figure out if it was because you wanted to or out of guilt of being caught. He was about to say something when you eagerly took him into your mouth. He groaned watching more of his cock disappear past your lips and reappear again when you gagged. Refocusing and allowing you a single breath, he gripped the sides of your head and forced himself back down again, roughly snapping his his hips against your face. You could feel his cock twitching with each thrust, the disgusting slurping and gags reverberating off wood.

“You're gonna take...my cock like the depraved whore you are, ” He sighed, throwing his head back. Your vision blurred slightly as the tip repeatedly bumped the back of your throat, lips slurping around the spit that dribbled from the corners. “Sneaking off, neglecting duties. Fraternization. With the likes of that monstrosity.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, his words flying out as his nails gripped your scalp possessively.

Drool seeped from the sides of your mouth, creating lines that dripped to your breasts and to the floor. Levi took one look at your tear stricken face and almost busted on the spot. He pulled out, not wanting to do so just yet and you were back up against the desk.

"Tch." Levi gripped your throat for leverage, jerking you closer after hearing more contents hitting the floor. He slid two fingers into your mouth, at the same time his other hand slipped fingers into your pussy. You groaned when his fingers pressed to the back of your throat making you gag. Tears struck your vision, blurring the twisted grin that split Levi’s face.

"I didn't hear you Cadet...Was this what Jaeger was doing?" He asked, pumping his fingers slowly into your wetness. His fingers curled against your walls enticing an excited buck against his hand. Lines of drool fell from the sides of your mouth and dripped to your chest as you nodded frantically.

"My my. Another mess." He muttered. His fingers kept up its steady brutal pace, curling every now and then. He sped up cutting your words off purposely. He wanted to see you suffer. Levi was sadistic that way, enjoying the torment in your eyes as he got off to your shame and innately desires. A part of him was pleased at how so wet you were, knowing that boy Jaeger couldn’t come close to a woman’s pleasure.

Your mouth was set in an 'o' as you tried desperately to get the words out. Drunk off pleasure but still lucid enough to try and show your Captain respect. You were so close. So painfully close to giving in, if the quivering in your thighs were any indication. Your stomach heaved as you glanced down, watching the way his arm flexed like lightning as he pumped your walls. You began to squirm, your orgasm approaching quickly with the itching knot in your stomach. That was until he suddenly pulled out.

Lifted with ease, you were shoved further onto the desk, Levi’s face burying in between your legs. Hands shot to his hair instinctively, too gone in the way his tongue prodded your folds to realize he was your superior. He didn’t mind however, lips curving in your overt reaction.

His tongue darted in and out of your wet cunt, relishing in the way your gummy walls pulsed around his tongue. Your hips reared off the wood when his lips latched snugly on your clit, suckling the nub.

“C-Captain!” His finger lifted and pushed against your clit as you rolled your head back and bit your lip. You could feel yourself slowly building up again to that sweet moment of release. And you even surprised yourself when you began to grind yourself against his face selfishly in hopes of reaching it.

But he straightened up and kissed your on your mouth roughly. And you weren’t as reluctant in returning the kiss. Grabbing his cock, he rubbed against your cunt, slathering his leaking head with your juices.

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this." He muttered. “S’posed to be a punishment.”

"I can,” Your cheeks burned in your next choice of words. “I can pretend I’m not enjoying it, Captain.” It shouldn’t have, but your word’s flustered him, making his dick twitch for reasons unknown. Perhaps it was the breathless way you referred to him by title or your shameless suggestion, either way he’s too desperate to feel you.

“Unlikely.”

You bit your lip as he slowly slid the tip in then pulled out

"Uhnn."

"Tell me you want it." He slid in again and stilled.

"I want it...Captain." You whimpered before he shoved his dick in, full hilt, satisfied with your answer. His hand clamped hastily over your mouth as you let out a muffled squeal. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes from the rough intrusion, at the full girth as he stretched out your desperate cunt. Groaning at the sensation, your hands stilled on his shoulders as he pumped furiously. The sounds of moans, grunts, and skin against skin contact filled the space as he fucked brutally into you.

"From…this point on…you belong to me now." He mumbled against your ear. “Jaeger needs to keep his hands off or I’ll turn him in for reckless insubordination.”

Your pussy clenched at the baritone and seriousness in his voice. Hands soothed up his neck daringly, fingers lacing in the hair at the nape as you pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue lashed hungrily, sucking your lips and tongue as if he wouldn’t be able to anymore. His thrust became more erratic as the desk scooted along the floor.

"Mm..mm..mhm...!" You moaned as Levi pulled away to hear the full depravity of your noises.

"I want you to tell me who you belong to now." He snarled possessively. You stared at him in his steel, hard eyes.

He was dead serious.

"Y.." He snapped his hips, dick sitting fully in your snug walls. He didn’t move after that, drinking up the way you squirm in his grasp as you struggled to answer.

"Go on—say it." He rolled his hips purposely.

“You Captain!" You cried fingers digging into his arms. He grunted, your breathless cry sending shivers down his back as he canted forward, his strokes punishable.

"Louder."

"Le-vi. Cap’n Levi!" You cried as a particular stroke had your world erupting into euphoric bliss. You tried to bury your head into the crook of his neck but his hand was quicker, pinning you down by your neck as he oggled the fucked-out expression you gave him. Not at all the hard eyes and stoic features you wear in training or on the field. You gave in, shuddering around him, tightening your cunt around his cock as he let you go.

Your face was what had him tensing, his hands slamming on either side of your head as he shivered, his cock pulsating as he came.

Despite everything Levi had put you through, his arms embraced you and the two of you remained that way for a moment. It was uncharacteristic but you remained silent as he kissed the top of your head tenderly.

As the two of you laid against the desk, a sweaty and exhausted heap, Eren silently slid down the door, his cheeks adorning a furious blush. Jean told him you got caught and he wanted to defend you but it seemed it was… well handled. His teeth were gritted as he palmed shamefully at the growing tent in his pants.

#attack on titan x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #aot smut #[ output—☆ ]#he said #‘if you can HUH you can HEAR’ 🤨#angelshubnetwork #planeto🪐#bitchcraftinc

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callsign-rogueone · 1 month

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alone with you - l.m.

Liam Mairi x reader part two of Liam and Spark's story. words: 3.0k 🏷: Fourth Wing spoilers (spark knows things that Violet doesn't lmao), sparring and a tiny bit of blood, reader gets injured but not to worry, someone takes care of you. no pronouns used for reader but Liam does call you a girl. Tuile being a bitch (wbk) and perhaps some answers about what happened in spark's first year at basgiath... I'm still not good at writing fight scenes, sorry lol

Another year, another round of challenges. Another opportunity to show the entire quadrant that you’re not here to fuck around, nor to make friends.

You loosen your muscles as Emeterrio discusses the rules of engagement, cracking your neck and stretching out your arms, taking mental inventory of all the weapons on your body -- even though it’s frowned upon to use them in these fights, you keep the array of knives at the ready.

“I see the general’s girl has survived the week,” Tuile muses. “I’m almost impressed.”

You cast a glance across the room, seeing her standing next to the cadet who was in front of her in line for Parapet, the one she’d traded boots with.

“It’s only a matter of time,” you mutter back.

Even though Xaden had convinced the two dozen of you to leave her alone, it’s likely that somebody else is going to see how fragile she is and walk right up and snap her in two, to thin the herd -- not that she has a real chance of making it to threshing anyway, not without some divine intervention.

But she’s a perfect little Navarrian citizen, so she must pray to their gods every night before bed. Maybe they’ll help her, because you sure as hell won’t; you have a reputation to maintain, and there’s no rational explanation you could give her for why you would want to help her at all, not without jeopardizing the entire revolution -- she might not take after her traitorous older brother, who as far as she and everyone else in this death trap of a college is aware, is dead.

She seems to notice you watching her, locking eyes with you for a split second and quickly averting her gaze. She’s afraid of you and all of your friends, unaware that your respect for Brennan is what’s keeping her alive right now.

Fear is a requirement for survival here. Maybe she’ll make it longer than you’d thought.

It’s not a surprise to you at all that your name is called first, nor that you’re matched with the largest cadet in the class. It became clear to you last year that the professors aren’t making these assignments randomly. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they keep pairing you with the best fighters -- but never with another marked one, even though you’re all at the top of the class.

No, they’re probably entertained by all of this, betting on you like racehorses or wild dogs, placing wagers on who would come out on top. If anyone’s putting money on you, you’ve made them a killing -- you’re undefeated.

But that would require someone else to bet against you, and while you may not respect all of the professors and leadership, or any of them, really, you don’t think they’re dumb enough to throw their money away like that.

“We meet again,” he says with a sick grin that makes the scar below his eye stretch and contort.

You don’t respond, taking one last survey of the seven blades on your body, but you’re not dumb enough to touch them, lest he see where they are and try to take them himself, like he did earlier this year.

He’d wrapped his fingers around the wooden hilt of the blade that Liam had given you before you left for Basgiath, intent on putting it through your heart, and you’d seen red.

“You should have taken his eye out.”

“I gave him that scar as a warning,” you reply evenly. “It’s up to him if he’s going to heed it or not.”

You’re at it as soon as Emeterrio says go, taking turns lunging at each other and blocking attacks.

You’re evenly matched, despite the size he has on you. He may be stronger, more intimidating, but you’re faster, and you know what you’re doing. You know where to hit and when, your strikes much more precise than his.

Still, Liam’s heart races.

It was one thing watching you mess around with Bodhi in the courtyard, but it’s another thing entirely seeing you fight as if your life depends on it -- and it does. There’s a very real possibility that one of you is going to be spending the evening in the infirmary, or the morgue, after this ends.

You fight like Xaden, like himself and Bodhi and Imogen and everyone else his brother had a hand in training, but with an edge he’s never seen from you before.

He hesitates to put a name to it, but there’s something in your eyes akin to a wild animal’s as the pair of you stalk circles around each other, planning your next attack.

“It’s not polite to play with your food,” Tuile chides.

Fine. You’ll finish this, if only so she’ll shut up and leave you alone.

The other cadet has the same idea.

You charge at the same time as he hurls a dagger in your direction, and you hit the ground at the last second to avoid being skewered. You start to press up to your feet, but he stomps a boot into your back, pain ripping down your spine. You swallow a scream, digging your nails into the sticky foam beneath you.

The mental wall separating you from Tuile crumbles, that familiar white-hot anger flowing through you. “Do something.”

You unsheath a dagger, reaching up and swiping it across his calf, and he hisses in pain, releasing you and taking a stumbling step back.

It’s easy enough for you to knock him off balance, landing three consecutive blows to his ribs and a swift kick to his stomach that sends him to the floor.

You’re tired of this already. It’s lost its novelty, and you really need to sit down -- there’s black spots clouding your vision, and the pain in your back has gotten impossibly worse.

“Do I have to kill you in front of the kids, or do you yield?”

“I yield,” he rasps, still clutching his leg.

You lean down, wiping each side of the blade on his shirt before you sheath it.

“Sloppy, but satisfactory,” Tuile comments — that’s high praise from her. Maybe she’ll give you the evening off from her snide remarks.

You slot yourself between Liam and Bodhi, leaning against the wall as casually as you can; every movement has pain spreading across your lower back and shooting down your spine.

You try to focus on rebuilding the wall she’d knocked down, brick by brick, taking deep breaths and forcing the anger out of your body.

Liam reaches for you, looking worried.

You speak under your breath, not moving your lips. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.”

He pulls back without protest, understanding why you don’t want him helping you where the rest of the quadrant can see you, don’t want them to see the look of concern on his face and his hand on your arm and identify him as your weakness.

You may very well be the most hated person in the quadrant, being marked, bonded to one of Navarre’s nastiest dragons, and unafraid to draw blood in challenges. There are several cadets in this room who wouldn’t hesitate to go after Liam if they thought it would hurt you -- and it would.

You don’t care what they do to you, what pain they inflict or what scars they leave on your body, but if anyone so much as touches Liam, they’ll lose the use of their hands.

You breathe through the pain and keep your eyes on the fights unfolding in front of you; making note of who favors what side of their body, who gets sloppy after more than a minute, who yields because they don’t have the stomach to take things further.

Most of the cadets think this is the one class you don’t have to study for, but they’d be wrong -- there’s a reason you always come out on top, and this is it.

The class ends without Liam’s name being called, which is a relief, even though you don’t doubt his skill on the mat — it’s off the mat that you’re worried about.

Almost everyone heads straight to dinner, but Liam hangs back, getting your attention with a barely-there touch to your elbow. You look over at him, and he nods in the other direction, toward the dorms.

Of course he’s going to insist on checking your injuries himself, as he always did in the years you trained with him and Xaden. He doesn’t seem to think anything has changed between you in the year you’ve been away.

Sooner or later, he’ll realize he’s wrong.

You wait for nearly everyone to be out of the gym before you leave, leading him up to the second floor in silence and unlocking your door with a wave of your hand, gesturing him inside -- thankfully there’s nobody in the hallway to see you.

You haven’t been alone with him in a full year. A year and two weeks, if you want to be precise. The day you’d said goodbye, and nothing else.

You busy yourself with digging through your desk drawer to find the nearly-empty tin of healing balm, handing it to him before you turn away, gritting your teeth as you pull the shirt up over your head.

If you weren’t pouring every ounce of energy you have left into keeping yourself upright, you might have it in you to be embarrassed about the amount of skin you’re exposing to him, the history of your first year at Basgiath on full display. But it’s Liam. Liam isn’t going to judge you, isn’t going to pry; he’ll just keep giving you that soft, concerned look -- which is somehow almost worse.

There’s a moment of quiet as he takes it in; the dark blue, nearly-black silhouette of Tuile that spans your shoulder blades and continues down your back, disappearing into the layers of thick linen wrapped over your chest, the full extent of your rebellion relic, winding down your arm to your wrist…

Then he sees it, the nasty bruise starting to form on your back, below the hem of your bindings. The other cadet had hit you square in the spine, a blow that could very well have been paralyzing had it been delivered at a slightly different angle with slightly more force. That’s probably what he’d intended.

Liam isn’t particularly religious -- none of you are, which was a major reason why your parents had wanted to secede from Navarre -- but he still sends up a silent thank you to the powers that be that you’re okay, standing in front of him mostly unharmed.

You grit your teeth, keeping your eyes shut and gripping the shirt tightly as Liam’s hand rubs over your back, working in the healing balm.

There’s something about the feeling of his skin on yours that is more uncomfortable than the aching bruise or any of the other injuries you’d sustained in that fight.

You can handle the brush of your hands, a touch through layers of clothing and armor, eye contact and whispered words and smiles — all things that are acceptable behavior between friends — but the tenderness of this whole thing is overwhelming; being alone with Liam in your room, his bookbag on the floor, standing behind you rubbing a hand over your back, the other on your waist to hold you steady because you’re fucking trembling.

Maybe you are a little embarrassed after all.

The skin feels warm and tingly, a sign that whatever healing herbs within the sticky paste are working, soothing the aching muscle. Your entire body feels warm. It’s unbearably hot in this room, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind, still dressed in his flight jacket and full uniform.

He moves his attention from your back to your side, murmuring a soft apology when you startle at the feeling of his hand smoothing over your ribs.

You take a breath, letting him work more of the balm into the spot where the other cadet’s fist had landed.

He finally pulls back, letting his hand linger on your waist until he’s convinced you won’t fall over. “Anything else hurting?” he asks gently.

“My head,” you admit to the wall. “But that never goes away.”

You pull the shirt back on as quickly as you can, done feeling exposed, and fight to maintain an unaffected expression as you turn back to face him.

He looks at you for a few seconds before it dawns on him -- the persistent headache, the flatness of your skin and your constantly racing heart, the way you’re bracing yourself with a hand on the desk, how tired you look and feel… “Spark, when was the last time you had water? Or anything to drink at all?”

Liam has always been too observant for his own good.

You take a moment to think about it, another definite indicator that something is wrong. “Yesterday,” you answer quietly. “At dinner.”

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It’s been a full twenty-four hours -- you’re supposed to be at dinner right now. It’s a miracle that you hadn’t passed out on the mat this afternoon.

He doesn’t scold you, doesn’t tell you how bad that is; he just squeezes your hand gently, taking the water bottle out of his bag and uncapping it. He can see you hesitating, knows something is wrong -- it takes a lot to rattle you, but you’re looking at the thing like it’s going to bite you.

“Three sips?” he asks softly.

That seems doable.

You take the bottle from him, holding it for a moment, feeling the weight of the metal and the energy flowing through the water inside it. It’s clean, calm, not murky and angry like the river water that Carr had made you practice with last year, but that doesn’t matter; in your hands, it’s the most dangerous substance on the planet.

And as fate would have it, it’s necessary for your survival.

You’re just grateful Tuile is off doing gods-know-what and not making her usual smug commentary -- she’d left after you’d won that challenge match, but she’ll be back soon enough.

You raise it to your lips and drink, wanting to get it over with. The water is cool and crisp, breathing life back into your mouth and soothing your throat as you swallow, your body singing in relief as you give it what it’s been deprived of for months now.

You take a moment to breathe, comforted by the air that continues to flow into your lungs and back out. Liam is standing in front of you. You’re okay. Two more. You can do this.

You bring it back up for another sip. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, how much better it would make you feel. You take the next one in quick succession — that’s three. You’re done.

You hate to admit it, but you feel better already.

Liam is still watching you with that soft, worried expression, though it’s less severe now than it had been earlier. You can see the gears turning, knowing he’s wondering why this was such a big deal for you; but there’s no judgment there, just genuine concern for your well-being.

You decide to tell him the truth, or part of it.

“I almost drowned when I channeled for the first time,” you say quietly, gazing back down at the half-empty bottle. “It was fucking terrifying. I couldn’t shower alone for a week. I needed one of the girls to come into the bathroom with me and face the wall, just talking to me the whole time. Then we realized Bo can counter signets. He’s been helping me control it, but…”

So that’s what Xaden had meant when he said that Bodhi was helping you deal with things. He wonders if there’s anything else his brother hadn’t told him, anything you aren’t telling him, but he won’t demand an answer from you -- he knows how difficult it must have been for you to tell him what you did, and he won’t push you further.

He takes the bottle back and caps it, gathering you into his arms silently, the way he’d wanted to back in the gym. He’s careful not to put any pressure on the injury, keeping his hands well above the bruise -- one between your shoulder blades and one on your ribs, on the side that you hadn’t been hit.

You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking in a whisper. “Thank you, Li.”

His lips brush over your hairline, where the ache is the worst. “Of course, sweet girl.”

You don’t want to let go of him yet, but you’ve already been holding each other longer than is appropriate for friends -- and that’s all you are, for the time being.

He finally pulls away, and you could nearly cry at the loss of contact.

“I need a minute,” you manage. “You should head down.”

You’re reminded again of why you love him so much as he nods in understanding, shouldering his bag and giving you a soft smile before he heads out your door.

All good things must come to an end.

“Sweet? He must not know you at all.”

“He knows me better than you ever will,” you snap back.

At least she waited for him to leave, for you to be done with the water, or you would have some serious explaining to do.

You build up the wall again before she replies, and though it isn’t strong enough to block her out completely, she doesn’t push against it or knock it down -- she must not feel like getting into a pissing match with you right now.

Good. You don’t either.

You notice he left the bottle on your desk. You manage another three sips before you finally head down to dinner, where you slide into the open seat beside Liam, silently pushing the empty bottle toward him.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, not wanting to draw any attention from the group around you, who are all immersed in hearty conversation.

You haven’t heard those words from anyone in a long time. They mean more to you than he could ever imagine.

#liam and spark #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #liam mairi #mine

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zmediaoutlet · 7 months

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Survey results time.

At time of downloading the data we got just over 300 responses, which is not bad for a survey that was long and complicated to take! I'm sure my shamelessness helped. Being a survey for a specific crowd, we also didn't get anyone (as far as I could tell) taking the survey in bad faith, which is a legit surprise. Special shout-out to the several people who, when asked to write literally anything to say they understood what was going on, wrote "literally anything"; additional shout-out to the person who wrote "penus and hole" (sic). You get it, anonymous person.

I'm going to share the top results for the questions here, but I'll also include the raw data as a sheet at the end in case anyone wants to actually go through it with a fine-tooth comb. This is not a survey where cute pie charts or graphs would be useful or readable, so get ready for some sweet-ass numbers:

Story Genre

Unsurprisingly, our leaderboard for most favorite story genre in the 'Anytime!' category is as follows:

Hurt/comfort (153 votes)

Angst (142 votes)

PWP (139 votes)

We just like the guys to get the shit beaten out of them, angstily, and then they can feel better by jerking off about it. The ideal evening.

The big loser in genre, with 34 buds flat out saying "not for me", was Dark!fic. That said, Dark!fic also got 112 votes (third highest) for "has to be JUST right," so we can probably take from there that while as a group we don't hate dark content, we have pretty strict definitions for a) what counts as dark, and b) what kind of dark we're willing to take.

Gencest/gen was arguably the most 'eh, idk?' of the genres, with respectable showings in every category from Anytime to No; most people don't hate it, but people aren't really seeking it out either. It's definitely There.

Story Setting

The winner of most 'Anytime!' votes for story setting is close to my heart; the podium is:

Bunker era (142 votes)

Canon-close, codas, etc (129 votes)

Pre-series/weechesters (126 votes)

It feels good to know that canon is on our side. This may help explain why various alternate universe settings didn't do so hot with the respondents -- the least fave according to this survey is an age!swap AU, followed by a raised apart!AU. Writers who are making Sam the big brother who lives in Cleveland while baby Dean lives in Seattle, you keep living your truth, but readers are rearing back.

That being said, while Canon Divergence isn't an overall winner, it has a full 149 votes in the 'Dig it' category; so, while we may generally prefer canon, we're willing to be led on a garden path away from it. We just want canon to be within shouting distance, at least.

Canonical Character Variants

Here's where the survey gets more complex. I've always been interested in how and why people are fandoming about things, and simple 'yes/no' surveys rarely dig into that meat. The point of the superego/ego/id separation is to really interrogate -- hey, do you like to read about (for example) soulless!Sam because you find it interesting on a high-minded level, or because your heart-strings are getting tugged even if you think it's kinda dumb, or just because it makes you so hornt-up you can't think straight? All are valid, and all are possible simultaneously, but it's interesting to prod at to see how the interest is working. You might also just be like, eh, it's fine, or GOD, STOP, and that's fine too. So, with all that said:

Superego winners:

demon powers!Sam (202 votes)

soulless!Sam (177 votes)

blood addict!Sam (160 votes)

Y'all like to really brain about how Sam is fucked up. I get it.

Ego winners:

Trials of Hell!Sam (186 votes)

blood addict!Sam (180 votes)

demon powers!Sam (161 votes)

Still all Sam, and no surprise that his saintly pale sleeplessness is winning the heartstrings battle.

Id winners:

demon!Dean (205 votes)

demon powers!Sam (175 votes)

blood addict!Sam (165 votes)

Again, no surprise: fandom girlies (gn) love their bad boys, lol. Soulless snuck in at #4 here with 163, presumably because working out still wearing a belt was juuuust dorky enough to kick him off the podium; #5 was Smith & Wesson at 162, probably because if they'd been left in that AU for ten more minutes they would have been fucking over the top of Dean Smith's desk. Glad we're all on the same page, there.

The nopes here were an interesting mix. In the full-on No Thank You category we had Michael!Dean and Gadreel!Sam (with 52 and 53 votes respectively) -- it would be interesting to know if that was due to dread of the storyline specifically, or just how No Bad Wrong it felt to have it happening. These two also led the 'meh' category, although they were joined on the podium of bad by Endverse!Dean (128 Meh votes), which frankly shocked me. Y'all aren't into his thigh holster? C'mon now. Sure, he murders his friends without compunction, but -- thigh holster!

Story Tropes

These ones were fascinatingly all over the place, which is exactly why I wanted to do this. Going to just run down the S/E/I podiums real quick, then 'Hard sell', then No --

Superego winners:

Outsider!POV (211)

Someone Finds Out (191)

Mental health issues (190)

Ego winners:

Mutual pining (252)

First time (242) AND Sick/injured (242)

First time in a long time (235)

Id winners:

Jealousy/possessiveness (224)

First time (218)

First time in a long time (180)

Now, part of what's interesting about these is how they fall off in other categories. Outsider POV wins handily at Superego with 211, but then drops all the way down to 92 votes at Id -- which isn't nothing, but clearly it's preferred to have a heckin' think about how other people view the incest relationship, rather than thinking it's just So Hot that people might. Similarly, while people do think it's so so hot for one brother or the other (or both!) to be possessive at 224 votes, when it comes to the superego that drops right down to 134 votes, presumably as the brain wakes up and goes RED FLAG!

Entering the land of no thank you, we shall have two anti-podiums:

Real hard sell:

Infidelity (127)

magic/powers!Dean (125)

Unrequited/no relationship upgrade (110) AND "Carver Edlund" fandom

This is a much more mixed bag. Infidelity and Unrequited are no surprise here, because it Feels Bad, Man; magic!Dean also not really a surprise, given that most of our respondents prefer being closer to canon, and Dean is very much our mundane buddy in the show as presented. (A delightful buddy, but a distinctly nonmagical one.) Carver Edlund fandom makes me laugh mostly because it's such a bananas thing to exist in the show. Sam and Dean reading big bang fics about each other? Collectively we just... don't know what to do with that. Weird.

Squick/No/Maybe one exception:

Permanent character death (140)

Infidelity (108)

Eating disorders (102)

Again, no surprise in the anti-winners of 1 or 2 here, but number 3 surprised me, personally. ED fic used to be a pretty big wedge of common tropes that people would seek out. Perhaps it's gotten less popular over the years? Or perhaps just that the people who like it REALLY like it and so chat about it out loud, while those who don't quietly bury it in sand, lo as a cat does with their leavings.

Most extreme delta in 'general interest' (whether that be S,E, or I) to 'ehh' (whether that be Hard Sell or Squick) is first time. Y'all loooove your first time.

Sexy Tropes, Vol. 1

This is where I really wanted to know if people could pull apart their interests between brain and heart and guts. Hopefully people were honest, as requested. Some of them we know are slight liar answers, because the hits on AO3 tell a story that can't be refuted -- nevertheless, here's what people were willing to admit to.

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Bedsharing (158)

Incest kink (139)

Size kink (133)

your friendly neighborhood survey creator is jumping up and down going 'wooo' that size kink made the podium. also I hope everyone understood that incest kink meant, like, indulging in the incest of it all via 'oh you're so totes my brother and i want to suck your dingle for that reason specifically', but I realize that could've been clearer.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

shameless bottom!Dean stuff (151)

switching (147)

voyeurism (138)

the first one here genuinely surprises me considering what I see getting written most often; is this a case of just not being in the right venn diagrams, or the 'easy sell' just not matching up with what people are being sold? Curiouser and curiouser.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

bad/awkward sex (120)

phone sex (114)

in [drug/alcohol] veritas (110)

edging into awkward town in a few ways here: we don't love these, but we can see how it'd be fun. or not fun, in the case of bad sex.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

always-another-gender!AU (84)

multiple Sams or Deans (73)

genderswap (magic) (72)

so, in general, we prefer to keep the penises around and intact, but just one Sam penis and one Dean penis, please. Here, I'm interested that the volume is much lower than in the top category: maxing out at 84 hard sells compared to 158 bulletproof options means that we're willing to give more of these tropes a chance, even if they're not our faves. How accepting we are!

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

always-another-gender!AU (83)

A/B/O elements (65)

multiple Sams or Deans (51)

strong overlap with the hard sell; and, keeping in mind that people were able to choose multiple options, it's possible that some of those were identical votes. Again, please keep the penises straightforward and only two at a time. A/B/O is interesting here, especially given what we know of how well it does on AO3; while it's a big squick for a lot of people, it also has decently high votes in bulletproof/easy, averaging 82 votes. Mixed bag!

Sexy Tropes Vol. 2, Electric Boogaloo

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Possessive/claiming sex (129)

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (116)

Hair pulling (103)

Let's glance back up at the Id winners in the story tropes above, hmm quietly to ourselves, and move on.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (135)

Hair pulling (130)

Possessive/claiming sex (121)

Well, that's boring. So let's expand so as not to be repetitive:

4. Dub-con (116) 5. Dom/sub (113) AND Underage (113) 6. Knifeplay (107)

There we go. Pretty easy to put all of those into one fic, too.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

Blindfolds (128)

Painplay (116)

Shibari/rope play (112)

We're starting to lose interest as accessories come into play. Interesting to compare D/s and its relative success against painplay -- so, tell him what to do, but don't hit him while you're doing it. Fair enough.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

Fucking machines (94)

Vore (80)

Mommy!kink (77)

Entertaining mix here, haha. General feasibility may be rearing its head here. (Also, for my own entertainment: daddy!kink got 67 Hard Sell votes. People generally prefer to keep it as horizontal incest, not vertical incest.)

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

Feederism (164)

Vore (161)

Extreme underage (157)

No surprises here, although some fans of the nibbly variety of wincest may be disappointed by vore's poor placement. Note also that 'extreme' is in the eye of the beholder; we'll leave aside value judgments, as we have for the whole survey, and note that people are not indulging in a version of underage they find to be personally past the line, or at least are not admitting to that.

At a glance, the closest matchup between bulletproof for some and a squick to others is bloodplay, with just 1 vote separating the two categories: 44 bulletproof, 43 squick. Next time someone tries to tell you that 'everyone' likes or doesn't like something, please take it with an entire shaker full of salt.

Dynamic & Position Preferences

I tried to encourage people not to think too hard about this one and just answer on instinct. Who knows if that worked. But here are some overview takes:

Toppy/dominant: Sam takes the lead here, with 69% of respondents being in the 'Love it!' category. Nice. (217 votes)

Dom Dean earned a respectable 52% of 'Love it!' votes (163).

However, I was also interested to check out the inverse --

subby!Sam: 44 'Very no thank' votes (13%) subby!Dean: 27 'Very no thank' votes (8%)

It's interesting to leap way back up and compare that against 'shameless bottom!Dean stuff' doing so well in the rated E categories. Makes you ponder.

Actual sex position: Frequently switching takes the win here, with 61% of the vote (194 votes). Sam always topping edges out if people must choose, with 144 votes; Dean always topping is our lowest choice, with 112.

Service!topping: this is a fairly niche fic type, but it does still exist -- I guess in a world of bottoms someone's got to actually get up and do something, and it is hilariously an almost perfectly even split:

service!top Sam: 50.17% (151 votes) service!top Dean: 51.50% (155 votes)

A healthy percentage of people said they didn't care about these questions either way, and more power to them. However, they were wildly outvoted by those who did.

Multishipping Time

Our final categories are when other people get their grubby hands on Sam or Dean, either canonically(ish) or in our fandom activities.

Canonical relationships for Sam

Jess wins, quelle surprise. :) 161 people Dug It and who can blame them.

Amelia LOSES, shocking no one: 112 people said Fuck That.

Eileen was definitely a mixed bag; her results, in order, were: Meh: 92; Fuck that: 76; Worse than meh: 66; Dug it: 44.

Canonical(ish) relationships for Dean

Note here: it was too unbalanced if we only went with people Dean officially dated. However, the show leaned hard into a few unrequited male relationships for him, which we included here, and no one sent me hate about it so I guess that was fine.

Benny wins the Love It! category with 129 votes, barely edging out Cassie at 122. Benny is best boy, so that fits.

Cas loses with a full 99 Fuck That votes, which is probably what we'd expect from a wincest survey. That said, he also got 93 Dug It votes, so it's a pretty balanced showing.

Poor Lisa sits firmly at Meh with 148 votes. It's not that we hate you, Lisa; we just don't really know what to do with you. Which is pretty much how the relationship went in the show.

Shipping Sam like FedEx

We returned to the S/E/I model for shipping as we did for tropes, because it means something very different to go 'oh sure, I can see how that would be interesting' vs saying 'I want them to fuck rawnasty and I don't care why they're doing it.' Apologies if I left out your favorite side-ship but, shit, there's only so much time in the day.

So, we return to the podiums:

Superego:

Ruby (132)

Rowena (121)

Cas (102)

Ego:

Rowena (121)

Cas (106)

Ruby (90)

Id:

Ruby (125)

John (121)

Rowena (118)

So that was going on sedately until Dad came in like a hammer. Fascinating. On the other hand:

No:

Lisa (234)

Donna (222)

Claire (219)

Interesting to me that these three are ladies that Sam theoretically could have got up in but people are not into it, regardless. This is slightly different to Dean's 'no' category -- spoilers for three inches of screen space!

Dean, Shipped by UPS

Superego:

John (129)

Benny (115)

Lisa (99)

Ego:

Benny (134)

John (116)

Lisa (102)

Id:

John (147)

Benny (128)

Crowley (114)

Well. That tells a slightly different story, ahem. Enjoy the various tropes that will be applied, Dean! And then we get:

No:

Amelia (245)

Kevin (223)

Gabriel (217)

Comparing to the Sam 'no' above -- these three are slightly more 'traditional' Sam ships, though the wincest shippers are nevertheless not into them for Sam, either. Dean literally never spoke to or saw Amelia on screen, so it'd be a determined shipper who'd make that happen. Not undoable, though!

Conclusion

Syke: there isn't one to be made. This really shows how diverse the taste is in the wincest community, or at least in the wincest community that a) happened to see this survey over the last five days and b) bothered to take it. This particular group leans slightly toward e.g. toppy Sam, or slightly toward switching, but when you look at raw numbers what you see is that at least one person LOVES every single one of these things, and at least one person fucking HATES every single one of these things, and so -- so what? Write what you want. If you see a niche of something that you love where you feel like not enough people are writing or reading, try to fill it. If you're worried "no one" will like it, well -- you're wrong. Someone will. It just needs to get seen by the right people.

That's where fandom comes in, to spread the love even if something isn't bulletproof for us -- reblogging a post to say, 'hey, my mutual made this thing, look at it!' What a joy it'd be if someone saw it and loved it to absolute shattering bits, and then found their little bulletproof community, and happiness was made. What's the point, if we're not making each other happy.

Thanks for participating if you did, and reading all this if you did. Here's a link to a google sheet (read only) with all the tables of raw data if you're interested. I'll post some of the more entertaining fill-in answers later.

s&d shipping survey results: November 1, 2023 - Google Sheets

#happy wincest wednesday #wincest #survey results #warning this is really long lol #but thanks for doing the thing <3

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matan4il · 6 months

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hello! as someone who's very much uneducated about the israel-hamas war but wants to educate themself more on the topic, I just want to ask if wikipedia is a good place to start? obviously it's not the be all end all and further research is necessary but do you think it's a good starting place? since with longer texts after some point my brain stops being able to properly comprehend them lol. if it's not then can you direct me to other, more reliable sources? I know it's quite a big ask but I don't want to go around using terms and saying things I don't understand and spread misinformation in the process ^^;;

Hi Nonnie! I just wanna start by commending you for the desire to educate yourself. It's not easy, this conflict has many aspects, and goes back quite a while, so I understand people who don't want to. All the more respect to you for having this willingness to dive in! *hugs*

Wikipedia is def not a reliable resource. I was an editor for a while, because I wanted to contribute my Jewish history knowledge. What I discovered as a Jew is, that it's a website with a bias towards antisemitism. Because Wikipedia is open for anyone to edit, the dominant narrative between two conflicting sides is always going to come down to numbers. Which side has more people to add new pages, or edit existing ones? Which side has more representatives for when disputes are settled with a vote (which is a dumb way to settle encyclopedic disputes... at a certain moment in history, the popular vote would have determined that the earth is flat). So consider that there are a mere 15 million Jews worldwide. Meanwhile, according to a global survey by the ADL, about 26% of the adult human population harbors antisemitic views. That's over one BILLION adults. When those are the proportions, unsurprisingly Wikipedia has an antisemitic bias. I've seen it on pages that have nothing to do with the Israeli-Arab conflict, too.

But don't just take my word on it! Here's an example of an academic article that touches exactly on the antisemitic bias of Wikipedia:

A resource that I like for understanding the Jewish/Israeli POV is the Jewish Virtual Library. It's dedicated to Jewish history in general, and as part of that, covers the conflict. I like it as a resource, because it's encyclopedic in nature, it contains a lot of parts of the conflict that tend to be erased by less history-oriented websites, it is organized in a manner that's relatively easy to use (I would recommend starting with "Israel" and "Myths & Facts", but you also have a search function), it doesn't look away from some criticism of Israel, and at the same time, I've never seen any anti-Palestinian sentiment/bias on there. Another resource is Unpacked, a project that aims to do about the same thing, but mostly in video form (they also have a website). I think its biggest downsides are, that with the video format, it's sometimes too condensed to do some issue justice, and that the website is a bit harder to navigate.

I looked at other encyclopedic resources online and... most of them are just not that in depth, because not being dedicated to this conflict specifically, they start for the most part in 1947, and miss a lot of the historical context that precedes the events of that year.

If I were to recommend specific books, on why a false narrative has become very common regarding this conflict, I would point to The New Historians by Efraim Karsh (it deals with how biased historians fabricate a false narrative about the conflict... To prove the falsifications, Karsh goes back to some of the most critical documents and events in the history of the conflict, examining the original evidence. I learned A LOT that I had no idea about from this book), and Industry of Lies by Ben Dror Yemini (same thing. This book was the first place where I learned stuff like... that Israel had actually offered to take as citizens some of the Arabs who had fled the 1947-1949 War, or that during the war, there were places where Jews were asking Arabs not to leave, such as over the radio in Haifa). You can also search both of these men online, they have stuff they've shared since publishing these books.

I hope this helps? And of course, if you need help with any specific question, I will try my best for you! Have a great day! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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skinnyazn · 1 year

Text

In the Bleak Midwinter

The sequel to this story: The Masks We Wear

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader Chapters: 1/5 Notes: brief mention of military grade hard drugs (I made the mistake of researching what the Americans handed out during the Viet war, do not recommend), graphic violence, gore, eventual smut in the later chapter(s) but we're not there yet lol, explicit content

The frozen landscape was soundless, not even a stray winter bird chirped, as you surveyed the small compound. Fresh snow was suspended over every tree and surface. The crumbling facades of the shacks all dusted in a hazy white. Your breath lingered in the air as you exhaled.

“Feels off,” you spoke into your comm.

“Agreed,” the gruff, Manchester voice responded through your earpiece.

Simon “Ghost” Riley. His callsign was fitting for a man as stealthy and menacing as he. On missions, The Ghost moved like smoke, an apparition with a penchant for death. Around camp, you’d feel his eyes on you, but then you’d turn around and there’d be no one there. And, like his callsign, he’d began haunting your waking thoughts too.

You can’t remember when it started—it’s only been a few months since you joined the task force. But since you started working together, had been assigned this mission together, Simon “Ghost” Riley had infiltrated your head—marked by one too many lingering stares and unnecessarily brushes of the hand when exchanging briefs. He’d insidiously worked his way into your thoughts, intentionally or otherwise: what did he look like under the mask, how would his calloused hands feel like under your shirt, what sounds would he make pinned between your thighs. It unnerved you. You didn’t mix business with pleasure. It was a susceptibility.

Your contracts were for your legendary tracking skills, propensity to gather intelligence, and ability to nail a target two and a half klicks away with a single shot. If someone needed a HVT stalked and scoped without leaving a trace, you were their go to. Which was how Kate Laswell reached out to you in the first place. She said there was a team, the 141, who needed help with a particular illusive target. Kept slipping through their fingers. The pay was good (of course, coming from the CIA), so you agreed to hunt for them. What you hadn't accounted for was their towering, beautiful phantom: Simon.

“Walk me through it, Jag.” The Brit’s voice cracked over the comm, interrupting your thoughts. Jag; Jaguar. You ignored the way your name rolled off his tongue.

She needs a callsign, Ghost.

Why do I need a callsign?

Cause everyone on the team gets a callsign! And it has to match. Can’t be something dumb, like Barbie.

Why can’t I be Barbie?

Cause you’re not blonde. Take me for example: got mine for my aptitude to clean a room, all spick and span like. And Ghost’s is… well, just look at the bastard.

Fine. Then what’s my callsign?

Mantis.

Nah, doesn’t fit her.

Jaguar? …You know, cause you’re smart, stealthy.

A smooth ride?

Dangerous.

Jesus, you two. Alright. Jaguar it is.

Your frozen fingers pressed your comm. “It’s too quiet, Ghost. We saw vehicles on the drive up, but there’s nobody in the town, not even a single light on.”

Months of hard work and intel pointed to this village on the outskirts of Kokshetau. The perfect place to lay low, forgotten by the world. The perfect place for an ambush.

“It shouldn’t be this quiet.”

Ghost was on the rooftop three buildings to your left, assessing the area too. You’d parked the jeep a mile and a half outside of town, in the forest, and trekked the remainder of the way through the bleakness. Every shell of a building you passed in this liminal village was vacant; it was like walking through an unsettling dream.

“Intel said he’d be here, right?” Ghost spoke. “You and Laswell traced him to these coordinates?”

“Yes.”

“So he’s gotta be here.” Ghost breathed into the comm. “I’m gonna to do an interior sweep. Eyes sharp; watch my six.”

Your thumb pressed down. “Copy.”

Tactically, it made the most sense. You were both snipers, but Ghost was a bear of a man. He towered over you and was build like a god. He’d hold up a lot better in a close-quarters ambush. Plus, this was his mission with the 141. You’d been key in tracking him here, but your specialty was picking off targets from afar. They wouldn’t even feel the tack of the shot that painted the snow with their pink matter. Wouldn’t hear the bullet that would breach the stillness of this place. But that only worked if they were out in the open, or visible through the decay of the buildings.

You followed Ghost through your scope as he climbed down from the roof. His winter camo was an efficient cover. It hooded his black balaclava with signature skull well. Ghost maneuvered through the buildings like a shadow.

“Clear,” he whispered through the mic with each sweep.

You flexed your hands to keep the blood circulating and the cold from seeping in. The fleece gaiter irritated your reddening nose. He’d gone through three buildings already. Patience was a strong suit of yours, but this waiting and watching left a burning in your tense shoulders. Part of you wished there was more backup, but Price wanted to keep it lean and quiet. Don’t want to spook the target with three in a car, should anyone be watching. It was a shit idea when there was already a towering, beast of a man wearing tactical gear and a skull for a face driving.

Ghost entered the fourth building below.

It was two stories, which left your heart beating a little faster than before. You were timing his previous sweeps. They were all one-story structures but Ghost was thorough and efficient; each sweep was just under a minute.

Your eyes flicked to the watch on your wrist. One minute, twenty three seconds. You didn’t have eyes on him from this angle.

“Come on,” you breathed quietly.

Two twelve.

“Come on…” you repeated, a little louder this time. You were holding your breath; knuckles white under the gloves.

You pulled back from the scope and scanned around the building. Stillness.

Two twenty six.

“Ghost, come in,” you whispered into the comm.

Three fifteen.

“Ghost, do you copy?” Blood pounded through your ears, filling the silence.

Three forty eight.

“Ghost, come in.”

Three fifty seven.

Unlucky, unlucky four.

The back door to the building burst open as a man—not your target and not Ghost—stumbled out. Bright crimson painted the snow beneath him. He was crawling now. You pulled the trigger. The sound of birds fluttering echoed in the distance.

“Fuck!” you cursed under your breath; gloved hands moved the sniper to your back. Your feet carried you quickly off the roof as you landed with a muffled thud; nimble hands reached for the pistol strapped to your thigh, quickly screwing on its silencer. Quietly, you rushed to the back door, stepping over the body and all the red. Ghost’s knife was embedded deep into his torso. You pressed your shoulder against the crumbling facade. Sharp breathe in. You whipped your pistol into the room as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was a body in a pool of blood near the front door, and a trail from the man you shot leading upstairs.

You stuck to the shadows, keeping silent as you peered up the steps. There was scuffling above. Deep breathe out. Your boots crunched over the concrete bits littering the stairs.

In your line of work, a second was the precipice between a grazed bicep or splatter of the head; between bleeding out or staying alive. So when you reached the top of the of the stairs, you had exactly one second to process everything before your fired your pistol twice: one to the shoulder, one to the head.

Ghost was bleeding all over the floor, struggling to right himself from his post-strangulation daze. Your target was supine next to him, twitching the last seconds of his life away. He was a hulk of a man, like the lieutenant. Quite the fight. You scurried to Ghost.

“Got me good on the head,” he wheezed. A concrete cinderblock was crumbled on the floor around him. Ghost’s skull-plate mask was cracked and there was blood dripping over his left eye. You surveyed the rest of his body: stab wounds in his bicep, a knife lodged in his right thigh.

You reached into your vest to pull out bandages to tourniquet the arm and leg. Your eyes stayed on the stairs as you synched it over his thick clothes, hoping it was tight enough.

“Knife stays in until we get you to a medic.” You reached for his mask. His large hand gripped your wrist with intense pressure.

“Mask stays on.”

Blood already darkened the fabric of his mask. You just hoped it would clot against the cloth. He released you as you reached into your vest and procured a vial.

“Need you to take this.”

Ghost grunted as he lifted the bottom of his balaclava clumsily and swallowed its contents. “What is it?”

“Amphetamine. Can you stand?”

“Christ,” he slurred.

You shifted under his right shoulder. “On three,” you wrapped his massive arm over you. He was heavy. “One, two, three.”

He groaned as you got him up. The sound etched itself into your brain. In any other situation, you’d beg him to make that sound again. For a split second you wondered if that’s what he sounded like when he—god, what the fuck was wrong with you?

“Fffuck!” he ground out. His weight pressed into your shoulder. Blood was soddening his pants where the knife was lodged.

“I need your help down these stairs, Ghost,” you said solidly as he hobbled with you. “Gonna be a gentleman and help me out?”

“‘M always a gentleman.”

The drug must have kicked in because he wasn’t leaning as heavily on you as before. You radioed Price as you struggled down the steps.

“Price,” you strained, “target is down. Need an emergency EVAC. Ghost is in bad shape.”

“Copy that,” his voice crackled over the radio. “Can you reach the backup rendezvous? I can’t land a chopper that close to the village.”

It was just under half a klick away. You looked at Ghost. He grunted. You doubted.

“Copy, on our way,” you confirmed, finally reaching the last step before the solid ground of the first floor.

Ghost was more coherent now; the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins. You helped him toward the back door that was still ajar. Dull winter light from the outside illuminated its silhouette on the floor.

“Stay,” you whispered, gripping the cold pistol again. He leaned heavily against the wall. You peaked your head through the opening.

The crunch of snow gave away the man outside who was surveying the top of the buildings—looking for the sniper. Looking for you. It was a clean shot to the back of the head, and his body crumpled to the snow. You hoped that was the last of them as you grabbed Ghost again.

“Let’s go.”

______

To your surprise, you made it farther than you expected before Ghost started to stumble. A steady trail of red saturated the endless white behind you. It was too much blood.

“Come on, big guy. Almost there.”

He stumbled again, falling into the snow this time. He rolled halfway onto his back.

“Jus’ need a second,” Ghost groaned out. Heavy lids and blonde lashes obscured those pretty brown eyes of his.

“No, no, no, Simon,” you bent over and whispered, “we gotta keep going, yeah? We’re almost there.”

He made an attempt to reach for you but his arm flopped like jelly. You hooked your arms under his shoulder and started to drag him through the dense snow.

“Hey, stay with me. Don’t give in to that concussion. That’d be a stupid way to die.”

“Sorry, sweet’eart.” His head started to lull to the side.

“Simon,” you growled as you continued dragging his body. “Eyes open.” Christ, he was so heavy.

“Tryin’.”

“That’s an order,” you huffed.

Your heavy breathing permeated through the silent forest. Time stretched on.

“I…” Simon’s head flopped back against your chest. His lashes fluttered as his eyes desperately tried to focus. Blood clotted over his left eye. “Don’t take orders… from you.”

“You do. When I’m dragging. Your fucking heavy ass. Through the snow.” Each sentence was a struggle. You were 5’6” and nearly 130 pounds of lean prowess. But Simon was a colossus. And dragging his dead weight through the thick snow for the past fifteen minutes had every tendon in your body screaming. Your lungs burned.

In the distance, sounds of the helicopter circling finally breached the trees. You looked behind you. The landing zone was still a couple hundred yards away.

“Stay with me, Simon,” you whispered against the crown of his head. Your quads seared with every backward step.

“Leg’s numb,” he managed.

Not good.

“That’s just the cold.”

You wanted to cry from the fire that encompassed every cell in your body. You were burning up; sweating. Every muscle strained to the max. You looked behind you. Almost there.

Simon’s head lulled forward again.

“Make you a deal,” you panted. The whirring of the helo was louder now. “You stay alive. And I’ll tell you one of my biggest secrets.”

Finally in the clearing, the snow fanned across your back. Two medics rushed from the helicopter toward you with a stretcher. They started strapping Ghost down as you nearly collapsed from overexertion right there. Price’s arm wrapped around you as he hurried you back to the copter, shouting over the comms.

The metal of the floor was cold against your face as you collapsed. The helicopter ascended. Price was hovering over the stretcher, and red crosses on white patches blurred as you finally succumbed to your exhaustion.

#uwu #I hope you guys like #again #never played COD #but I'm feral for Ghost #my fic #my writing #simon ghost riley #simon ghost Riley x reader #simon ghost Riley x f!reader #cod ghost #cod fic #mw2 fic #ghost mw2 #captain john price #oc #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader

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applejee · 2 years

Text

reminded seeing the collection of the batfam fic survey i voted in (which is fun and exciting, ill be checking some of those out later!!!!!) of some of the batshit collections people have requested my works be added to.

straight up some of you need to just use the bookmark function because it is beyond offensive to have your fic added to a collection titled “dumb bullshit to satiate my escapism”. like, really? obviously i rejected that one, and ive rejected a few others just because. that’s not what collections are for.

do people forget collections are public? do people forget that you see a list of collections a work is in directly under the tags? i’m honoured to accept my works into collections titled “fics i love”; “fics i’ll reread until the end of time”; “fics with good stephanie characterisation”—these are compliments, and things like “robin vs red hood” collect specific tropes and AUs together that ao3 may not have the tags for yet. they serve a function

i dunno, i think collection use has got a bit out of hand. im complaining on main because this keeps happening and at one extreme it’s offensive (dumb bullshit??) and at the other extreme there already exists a function for tracking it (“fics i have read”?)

respectfully, i think some people may benefit from bookmarks and bookmark tags. for one, you can tag nigh limitlessly, and search them on your bookmarks page using both the tags and the notes. also, most importantly, you can make them private. want to leave a note for yourself as to why you didn’t fully enjoy a fic? remind yourself of something that triggered you? want to simply keep track of a fic you didn’t enjoy as much as others? private bookmark, and the author never has to know.

this is a little bit of a rant but when i have rejected my works being added to collections multiple times it adds up, lol.

#curious to know if others have this experience #i don’t want a general collection appended under my work you know #majority of collections i get added to are compliments #and it makes me so happy!#but sometimes it would have been much better off as a bookmark tag.

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aurora-astra · 2 years

Text

Authors note:

HIIIII so before you read it must be known, this really cool person @havingarebelliousstage reached out to me to do a fic trade!!! (I’ve never done one before so I thank them for their patience lol) I thought I would mention it because I was very hyped when he asked, so yah 👍 enjoy!

Nightly patrol was something that Batman had installed ages ago, and yet almost everyone was out this particular night. [hero-name] and Nightwing were assigned to the majority of Gotham, Batman decided to do some solo things but like always he was secretive about it. The whole time the iconic pair was out, Nightwing was pestering [hero-name] over coms, nothing they couldn’t ignore, just a cocky nuisance.

“Hey love bug,” he giggled to himself as he taunted his lover. Y/n could almost hear the pleased smirk as they groaned from their perch on a small buildings roof.

“I swear to God, Dick, if some criminal slips by me I’m blaming you,” they complained, trying to focus on the street below. They could almost hear him coming up with another name on the spot as soon as they said that.

“You know you like it,” he simply replied. The two went quiet, [hero-name] actually searching for criminals and Nightwing thinking of his next dumb nickname to call them.

[hero-name] spotted a robbery going on in a small convenience store across the street. They rushed to the spot, and grunted as they disarmed the robber. Nightwing took this as his opportunity, calling to them saying “need any help honey bunches?” At this, [hero-name] almost dropped their grip on the criminal, but as they urged the cashier to call the police, they cursed under their breath so only Nightwing could hear, or so they hoped.

When the pair were alone on coms once again, [hero-name] was expecting a smug nickname to come from their lover. As expected, Nightwing’s voice rang through the com, “from what I heard, you handled that well… snookums.”

[hero-name] audibly groaned from embarrassment. “You are an absolute nerd,” they protested, but the pair broke into a fit of small giggles anyways.

“Hm well I will be back, bubba, just don’t cause too much trouble while I’m taking care of this person,” Nightwing commented, using a rather tame pet name this time around.

[hero-name] just shook their head, and continued to patrol the streets. This night seemed calm for Gotham, a crime-ridden city that was filled with unfortunate citizens. Of course, there was almost no such thing as a city without crime but there was something different about Gotham. [hero-name] was almost worried by how quiet it was, but they decided to let it slip their mind as they slithered from alley to alley.

Nightwing huffed on coms, presumably having taken care of the issue, and suggested they meet on a certain street as their patrol was ending.

They both arrived at almost the same time, and greeted each other with a brisk hug, much to [hero-name’s] dismay. They discussed their patrol that night, and how quiet it was, leading to a comfortable silence as the two walked and surveyed the street.

[hero-name] countered the silence, “well I say it’s time to head in… schmoopy. Batman probably won’t be happy if we aren’t back sometime soon.”

[hero-name’s] words effectively shut Nightwing down. As much as he loved to tease them beyond bear with ridiculous pet names, he never expected them to retaliate like this. Somehow, this only boosted his ego.

He smirked, and turned to face y/n, “what did you call me?”

“You heard me.”

“What if I didn’t?” He spoke as he pulled them into an alley to wrap his arms around their waist, “could you repeat yourself?”

y/n scowled at Dick, wishing they hadn’t given in to their lover’s silly game. They let out an exasperated breath. “I called you a pet name, like the ones you always call me. Do we have a problem?” They joked as their hands found their way to his shoulders.

“Hmm, I don’t think so, babes,” he grinned and relished in y/n’s touch.

“All jokes aside, we do really need to get back,” they reminded him, only after a quick and refreshing kiss.

As much as Dick wanted to enjoy their company for longer, he knew they were right.

They hopped from roof to street to roof all the way back to the mansion, and after peeling off the hero suits and bidding goodnight to the other members of the house, y/n and Dick shared a meal and slipped into bed. And as they admired their lovers sleepy face, y/n secretly wished that patrol could have lasted forever.

End notes:

Heyy thanks for reading!!! I tried my best to make this a bit longer of a fic so I hope you all liked it :)) thanks again for doing the fic trade, @havingarebelliousstage !!! I had so much fun writing this. To anyone reading, please make sure to read their fic that they wrote for me (it’s about Jason Todd and I am throughly excited). Farewell 🤭

#fic trade #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral pronouns

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colossal-fallout · 1 year

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Hii, you were one of the first blogs I followed when I was new in Tumblr and it's been years already. I've been in and out of the aot fandom, but I recall how obssesed I was with Porco and Reiner in your writtings. And when I read your chapter one of the new story, it got me into it again. Shipping warriors with paradisian characters is my pleasure, specially scouts, and I love the whole possibilities with the paths and inherited memories, so I fell in love with it.

I saw your requests for hcs are open so, if you can, could you do about warriors x scout reader hcs? How it would be and all? (yes, the Porco story inspired me)

Thank you for being here!

And gladly - it's something I often think about / write about. It would be such a beautifully cruel love but then again, the world is cruel, right?

Including some lore planned for my fic. If the lore I have implemented in wasn't there and you were just a normal person then everything would still play out pretty much the way it does in the Manga. Everyone is far too well disciplined for anything else. It'll make sense when you read it lol

Warrior X You (A member of the Survey Corps)

Porco - Annie For Reiner & Bertoldt I've kinda already done you can read them here. It wouldn't really be much different than what I have already written.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smut. GN Reader.

Everything going on with the curse of Ymir is literally due to the cycle of hatred and breaking that awful pattern. And so the love between a Warrior and someone from the Isle of the devils is something so pure and must be treasured.

Ymir herself probably set this up or helped via paths and memories. The memories aren't meant to teach further hate, but to understand and grow - something no one has achieved thus far.

Until you come along that is.

Porco

As written in my fic, Porco would first see you through the eyes of Ymir and her memories, as he tries to comb through to see his brother's.

He only catches glimpses of you at first but you took his breath away. He'd never thought he'd ever lay eyes on someone so perfect.

Tries to differentiate between his own reactions and if this is how Ymir felt. But no, Ymir was with that Historia person.

100% convinced you're a witch / warlock.

Because of course, the only thing to make him tremble, blush and his heart race is witchcraft. Porco isn't one for menial things like romance. Sure, he loves the attention he gets for being a warrior but he doesn't really have time to hunt kitty. If he wasn't so dedicated it'd be a different story, Porco obviously is ego driven a lot of the time.

In my fics it's because you were placed there specifically from a different universe (ours) to have a fresh set of eyes, heart and the chance to break the cycle. You can't be turned into a titan because you're not Eldian, you're from here. (You're not aware of this though, at least not yet) yet you have access to paths but only when Ymir sees fit.

So when you're both asleep, sometimes you'll both have extremely vivid dreams about talking to each other. Full on conversations. And they go on for a while. Like 3 years on and off.

When you figure out you're both real and from different continets, well that's up to you whether or not to try and get information from him. He won't ever give away secrets and will probably begin to resent you for trying when he fell for you so hard. So I wouldn't recommend it. Push everything away. This time in paths is sacred. The war can wait.

It'll even go so far as to making love within paths, and waking up with the love mark on your neck and him with nail marks in his back just confirms further this is real.

Porco removes his shirt after a heavy training exercise;

Peick: 😳😳😳

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do... do you have a girlfriend? /boyfriend?"

"W-what?! N-no, don't be dumb."

Zeke: "Then what are those love scratches doing down your back? Someone's been a bad boy to a good little pussy cat."

Porco will go beetroot red denying it and instantly healing them now he was aware they were there.

Adhere by the law of ymir and when you meet, well, its up to you what happens. But the path of true love and peace is right there to take.

Annie

The paths route will be a little harder to take with other shifters at first, because they don't have any memories linking you together. And well, you're physically together so it's not really needed. (Except Pieck & Zeke)

In the Anime/Manga, Annie certainly has a soft spot for Armin, evidently. She's probably the closest one to undoing the cycle if you weren't there.

When you're there it's different. It's like you're magnetically drawn to titan shifters, and them to you, because of your gift from Ymir. Explains why you get along with them better than most during training.

Annie, like the others are pretty far down the conditioning hole and it'll take quote a bit for her to even consider a romance with the enemy.

But again, there's just something special about you. Your aura screams magnetism and there's just something so mystical about you.

You radiate kindness and understanding - it may be hard because well you don't know anything else. But your empathy and understanding is what helps your case with Ymir on judgment day.

But when they fall for you, they fall hard. It really is just up to you what decisions you'll make with their heart in your palm. But remember - Ymir is watching.

#snk #annie snk #attack on titan #snk fandom #porco snk #snk annie #snk reiner #snk x y/n #snk x oc #snk x you #snk x reader #annie leonhart #porco galliard

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