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adalz · 1 year

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Lacrymosa - part 6

pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader ー Angel!Levi / Angel!Reader

chapter warnings: mention of violence and blood, mention of death and wounds, mention of war / sacrilege tw, yada yada

world count: 6.4k

a/n: Levi. That's it.

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Someone was calling your name.

Only no one upon these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.

A familiar language that you had once dreamed of hearing on these lands. A voice that had resounded thousands of times on opaline surfaces and in too pristine halls. Now it echoed beyond the treetops, throughout the entire sky. It was calling you. That voice, so warm, so far away. Silver gleams already shining everywhere.

He was coming.

You could feel him, souls trembling from being so far apart.

He was coming, from the depths of the world.

And all you could feel was him, deep in your bones. It was pulling at your insides, like the ocean draining away the waves before a tsunami. Inexorably drawn in, subject to a force too violent, that would engulf everything. You could hear his voice, loud in your head.

He was coming, and as his wings struck the Surface sky, snow started to fall upon forgotten lands.

He was coming, and with him, eternal winter.

Everything he saw, you saw in turn through his eyes. It was as if you were guiding his steps, as if you were the only one who could show him the way, towards the fire, towards the blood-soaked lands, towards destruction. As if you were the only one who could call him to you.

You could see the scenery flash before his eyes. As familiar landscapes appeared before him, you recognized them - you knew them from a dream. You knew them, but not from so high up in the sky. Then, you saw a mountain, you saw a cliff, edged by pines. From above, you saw the path, the one going towards the house. You saw traces of steps, hundreds of them, as engraved in the ground.

Great wings beating hard, shattering the opaque air - everything was denser, darker that you knew. The world was bathed in an acrid smoke, which clung to the eyes and embedded itself inside the lungs. And when his eyes fell upon where the house was supposed to be, there was nothing but a raging fire. There was the shape of a house, there were memories of what it used to be.

And the fire was burning everything. The stone walls had exploded under the weight of the burning old frame, sending huge embers crashing down. There was no floor, there was no roof anymore. Fire devoured everything.

He knew.

He knew it was here that it all took place. He could feel it as well, the pain enfolding, the distress coming from deep within his soul. He stayed there, above the blaze, staring at the flames, before closing his eyes for a moment, trying to focus.

“This way…”

His eyes glanced towards the forest.

Silver wings started beating harder the air all around, making the treetops tremble and blowing the dust off the ground. There was no pain, all movements smooth and natural. Only stinging in his chest, sorrow, devouring and insidious. Only a voice, pulling from inside.

Carefully, he set a foot on the Surface’s grounds. He took a step - and you could feel the dirt under the sole of his feet as if it were you who had walked.

He was not frightened. He was not lost and confused as you once was; he moved forward, head high, wings wide open, invested with a purpose. And perhaps, in his walk, a certain habit emerged, that of treading the dust of the Surface. He started walking towards the forest, through the path of those woods you knew too well. And behind him, the blaze ran out of steam, the scorching flames suddenly feverish. The embers died slowly, devoid of heat. Frost already absorbing everything.

And with him, the world plunged in winter.

Everything was still. Everything was immobile. Yet, there was a thing luring him forward, hasty and restless. A silent cry guiding him towards a familiar soul, towards a missing piece of himself.

And as he walked, the world died quietly.

Through the trees, he passed by the mortals and their torches and their guns. Everything was still. The moment on hold. He passed by them, and their torches went out as he walked. He passed by them, and their bodies collapsed on the ground.

That was the cost for laying eyes on a child of Ymir. That was the cost, for considering spilling their blood. He kept on walking, and as he did, lifeless bodies fell onto the ground, skin cold and death freezing on their lips.

Finally, he stepped into a clearing.

And as he walked upon the Surface, he recognized it, just like you did when you first saw it. A Temple to Ymir. The colonnades were still there but enclosed by walls. It was washed from its vivid colors, stained-glass shattered into a million pieces.

He had always thought they all had been destroyed, all those centuries ago. That none of them still stood on their ground. But it was here, it was real. The last piece of the puzzle. - hidden away and forgotten.

His eyes eventually fell on the shape of a body, lying in the high grass.

It was dressed in black, elongated limbs squeezed into a movement, twisting a body too tall. And only as he got closer, he saw the opaline face framed by light hair.

At the sight of the face, something arose in him. Powerful, too raw for him to contain. It tasted like anger. Like a senseless hatred clouding his own judgment. A mirror to your emotions, mixed with his. It took him a moment to collect himself. To suppress it all.

As he stood there, he observed the mortal, the bloodstains on her untidy clothes. There had been a struggle, her collar had been tugged until it was torn. Her arm was stretched out, a broken wrist, reaching towards something. A little further away was a gun.

It was a cursed soul still throbbing in a broken body.

He closed his eyes. You felt the sigh on his lips as he turned away from her.

And snowflakes crashed against the bruises on her face. Her breath died in the cold.

“This is it,” he thought. This was the cost they had to pay. The sweet liberation of death.

And as he walked closer towards the Temple, the pulling at his chest became stronger, like a pulse, pounding harder with each step.

He abruptly stopped.

All around him, late autumn flowers were stained in red.

Another body laid there, at his feet.

A boy, he saw, his eyes closed, corners still wet from tears - they had marked his face in such a delicate way, wet trails, drawing sinuous paths on his dusty cheeks. Yet the fragility of the moment did not capture what was really on the young face. It was the pain engraved on the features. This was a boy, only a boy.

His white garment was pierced in a single place, right below his heart. From there, life had escaped, in a wake of blood, thick arabesques. A single shot, a fatal wound.

There was nothing there. A fragile life already gone. But there, against his clothes, were feathers.

And so, he knelt beside the boy. Carefully, he brought his hand to the cold face.

He didn’t know what compelled him to do so. He couldn’t fathom why there was such sorrow, why it made him sick to just look at him. Why it angered him so much. As his fingers skimmed over his frozen skin, he took away the grief and the pain from his soul. Freed him. When he finally stood up, his hands were shaking.

Time was ticking away dangerously. The seconds hanging in the hourglass, flowing dangerously to the bottom. His power was waning, quivering on his forgotten land - like a torn fabric, letting the grains of sand of an endless desert creep in. There was no time for grief, no time for mourning. It was here, so close. But there was no one else in the clearing. Yet he knew what he was looking for. He knew you were here.

In the grass, under his feet, stains of blood. Blood everywhere. He followed it, and with each step, the sole of his feet turned scarlet. He walked in the shattered glass, towards the Temple. It had to be there.

The facade was decrepit, the limestone ancient and stained by time. There were a few steps leading to a stoop, dug by the weight of the millions of feet having one day climbed the stairs. He stopped in front of a door that had been left ajar. It creaked as he pushed it open.

A few seconds passed, for his eyes to get used to the darkness. For his mind to capture what was inside. Pews, and dust floating around. An altar lit up by the sky. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling. The light coming from the sky was gray, the pale sun of the Surface hidden by dark clouds.

On the marble floor, footprints led behind the altar.

He took a few steps, his own heart pounding harder than ever.

There, there was a shadow, the shape of bodies tangled together on the floor. Step after step, he walked towards them.

He discerned a mortal man. His back to him, body bent - every bone in his spine showing through his bare skin. It was a vulnerable position, to the slightest blow. His head was low - resting against the body in his arms, and his forearms were covered in blood. His face couldn’t be seen, only the strands of flaxen hair falling on the side of his face. He was holding someone tight, covering their face with one hand, as if trying to stop the blood from running away.

It hurt. It was agony, just to look at the scene. The despair in which he was lost. The preciousness of the one within his arms. How willing he was to give everything away for a fragment of life.

And as he stepped closer, the attraction suddenly snapped within him.

In his arms, there was you.

Finally, you thought - and it echoed in Levi’s mind.

“Finally, I found you,” he said.

“Finally, you came,” you said.

And you watched as he knelt down in front of you.

You watched what he saw. You heard what he thought. That mortal, blood spilling and spreading over his fingers. That impudent man, daring to touch you. That insolent creature, doomed for eternity for having laid his eyes upon you.

But all you could see was a broken man, trying to make sense out of the chaos. A man, trying his best to survive. A little boy turned into a soldier, still believing that life was something to protect. A boy, trying to heal a wounded being. All you could see was Zeke. Zeke holding your dying body in his arms. All you saw was the distress on his face, the tears on his cheeks. Your Zeke, alone in the darkness. Losing everything all over again.

You would have liked to reach out to him, to his body, to his skin. You would have liked to hold him tight, there, against your heart. You would have liked to cry out, to mourn the justice of this world. But you were a mere spectator of the horror, a messenger of a destiny about to collapse, the witness of a last moment. And Levi's hands remained still at his side.

“He never should have touched you,” Levi said, and you couldn’t see his face as he spoke.

All you could see was Zeke.

And if it was not love that you saw, you were the most miserable being in this universe. Because it was in the way he was holding you, so dearly, when there was no hope. It was in that pain, a gaping hole that you could feel resonate everywhere.

When Levi eventually made a movement, his hands came to you. Abruptly, he tore you out of his arms, out of his embrace. Zeke's body remained there, kneeling and broken, as if petrified, while you were already moving away from the warmth of his arms.

He carried you towards the altar, where the light was coming from the sky. There, he could almost feel the wind on his face.

“That’s where I fell,” you murmured in his mind.

“I searched for you everywhere,” he whispered. “I searched in every sea, every ocean, in every bottomless abysses. On every battlefield I went, and among the bodies of dead soldiers, I was looking for you.”

“I waited for you to come. But you never did.”

Through his eyes, you watched as Levi looked at your face, as if for the first time. He looked at the wound. He may have winced. You understood the fire and the blood covered world. You understood that she had aimed at your face.

With the softest caress, he touched your forehead.

And then, like a song played in reverse, he watched as the wound healed by his touch, as the blood flowed in reverse and as your skin closed under his skin, like sand blown by the wind. He waited, for what seemed hundreds of years, until your mind would let go of his.

He felt it giving in. He felt your skin getting warmer under his fingers. He watched as you opened your eyes.

The prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

And when you opened your eyes - heavy, so heavy - Levi was here, before you.

It was him, truly him. His face so real - and the joy of finally remembering washed over you. All the memories came back, as if you had run after them after they had started to evaporate. It was like chasing the birds in the sky, like cupping the butterflies in your hands before they were to flutter too high.

You sighed with ease.

“But you’re here now,” you whispered.

And his eyes, that silver color that always made you feel safe, suddenly closed. Long and dark lashes, drawing shadows on his cheeks.

When he opened his eyes again, they were shining bright. His jet black hair, always carefully tucked behind his ears, were falling on his cheekbones, hiding the sight of him.

“I thought I had lost you.”

You didn't let go of him while he told you, you had to hold him, always, never letting him go. He stayed like that. He talked. He talked, talked to himself. You listened attentively to a somewhat incoherent monologue, without importance. As for you, you listened to his memory starting up, apprehending hollow forms that made sense only for him, if you considered the memories ones to the others - like a game with lost rules.

You had waited for this for so long. So long, to hear the sound of his voice, the sweet ricochet of your names on his tongue. He said it again, and again and again, to make sure that it was true. That it was real. That you were real.

It was real.

All of this was real. And it hit you, like a slap across the face. That it was all real, that outside, there was nothing but blood under the snow-covered world.

Your eyes suddenly snapped back towards Zeke. There, his body still in the darkness, frozen in time.

Before you could say a word, Levi mumbled against your shoulder, “Let’s go home.”

Home.

You had dreamt of those words. You had dreamt of it.

There had been so many sleepless nights. So many questions, so much anguish. What if no one ever comes? What if they all forgot about me too?

But then had come the truth. The sacred texts and the strange beliefs. Then came affection and warmth. And with that truth, came peace.

It was impossible. You could not leave everything there, not like that. Not yet.

“I can’t,” you said.

Levi’s head jerked up, to stare at your face.

“What?” His face was stoic, only the furrow of his forehead betrayed his thoughts.

“I can’t go back, after being here for so long.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Levi, I can’t.”

Suddenly, Levi stood straight. For a moment, you looked into each other's eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and his eyes were fixed in yours, looking for a sign, for an explanation. The weight of the words hard to grasp. “Is it because of me? Is it because I couldn’t find you?”

And you wanted to tell him it was all right, that it was not his fault. But that would have been a lie. If he had come sooner, things would have been different, perhaps. If you had known the truth, all along, things wouldn’t have been the same. It was not his fault, neither was it yours. It was just the world you were born in.

Carefully stroking the side of his face, you said, “I can’t leave him there.”

And with these words, you slowly parted from his body. You walked around the altar, in this moment suspended between those two worlds. You knelt down in front of the man that had held you, the one that had kept you alive. The one that swore to protect you.

Zeke’s face was imbued with such great despair. His sweet face, stained with blood and loss. And you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms, for eternity. To make sure he was safe, and that life was treating him fairly. That those wounds he had suffered wouldn’t kill him. That nobody would hurt him more than he already was.

“I can’t leave him like that,” you whispered.

Selfishly, you would have thought that he would understand. Surely, he would understand. Surely there was hope. You looked up at Levi.

But his eyes were shining with something dark. All these emotions on his face, they were all new.

He had stood up from where he was. He took a step. And as he walked, his face lowered dangerously. Snowflakes slid slowly behind him, across the ceiling.

“What did he do to you?” And his words were nothing but a deep whisper. A warning.

You stayed there, knees against the cold stone, in this Temple forgotten by time.

Some part of you wanted to rush towards him, to grab his hands. Words formed on your lips, around your tongue, excuses, only excuses - trying in vain to find something to say. Something to make him understand, quickly, something to erase that look of pure disgust. Something to bring him back to you. Something to make sure he was the same, and you were the same, and nothing had to change. Anything.

Nothing but the truth came out of your mouth.

“He saved me. He saved me when no one else did.”

He was getting closer, eyes dark. Inside your chest, you felt your heart for the first time in forever, pounding too hard.

“I gave him everything I had because he was the sole reason I was alive. Because he was torn and fragile and he showed me love like no one else ever did-...”

One syllable, filled with rage. It echoed everywhere. A beast’s roar. He yelled, a single word. In denial.

At that very moment, you thought “So it’s all true.”

Not only Zeke had been right. Humanity was.

Because you saw something in his eyes. Something so violent, so sharp, you felt it piercing through your heart. You saw it all, glimpses of things you would have never imagined running upon his face. He was looking straight through you, and all you could see was it - the violence of his stare.

So you led in, caught Zeke’s body, brought him against your chest. Your hands tightened around his shoulders as you looked back at Levi.

But before you were nothing but these silver eyes. Gleaming back at you, casting a gloom over the world all around. In his back, glorious wings, stretched open, so wide, wider than you could even remember. Taking all the space between those walls. Hiding away the sunlight.

Those wings, taking him places you could never have imagined. Always, always shining so bright. But the truth was covered in blood.

Humanity had been right all along. Their stories might have been different from the ones you’d been taught, but they were right. All you knew was nothing but fabricated lies.

It was true, yet very violent to fathom. But as you stood there, kneeling in front of this man, you suddenly understood.

What they meant, all this time.

That Levi was the Angel of death.

It was a stranger standing before you. It was a threat; it was an enemy. All that you could see was death in his eyes. It was hatred and disgust. And you never really knew him.

You never really knew anyone. Because they kept on lying and lying and lying to you, about the Surface and the world and Mankind. You weren’t even sure that you could fly nor that the pristine halls of Paradis ever existed.

Seconds went by, and you were nothing but a mere child under his stare. You could have cried, pleaded, and begged, but did none of it. You felt sick in your stomach. On the verge of dying.

It was as if you had forgotten how to breathe. As if your own life was running through your fingers. As if he knew everything, every fragment of your soul and your deepest desires. And under his stare, there was nothing, nothing, you could do. Those eyes you remembered so full of affection were long gone. Standing before you, a man you’d never seen before. There was so much to ask, so much to confront, the contradictions and the lies. But you were quick to realize, at this moment, that the Goddess never made gentle children.

All of you were sinners, as your once humanity cursed you to be.

Savage brothers and sisters.

Five words echoed in the Temple. Through his gritted teeth, spitted out like venom, he pronounced five words, enough to ground you back into the world.

“I will slice his throat.”

And there was no such thing as pity in his eyes. His jaw was set, the joints of his fingers going white around the grip of a blade - a weapon you suddenly remembered him wielding. Long and sharp, beveled blade. Holy weapons, called to their bearer side by their will only, granted by the Goddess Herself to Her children.

It all came back to you. The day of the attack. What happened before the fall.

You remembered coming out of a stupor when the first blow sounded against the doors, echoing in the empty and quiet halls. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of them, so massive, your spear in your hands.

You remembered fighting with your own weapon. Sharper and deadlier than an arrow. Piercing the flesh, nailing the bodies to the ground. All of it, so vividly, the blows knocking them down. It was something you knew how to do. It was something engraved within you.

In your back, wings started fluttering painlessly. You raised your head to him, ignoring the blurred world all around you. And instead of the shaking words you thought you'd pronounce, there was a raging shout.

“Then I’ll kill you.”

His wings began to beat, blowing the dust and flakes into your face. But instead of keeping your head down in front of him, in front of his power and strength, you stood up, Zeke's body heavy in your arms. There, right up against you. Where nothing could ever take him away.

“I'll bleed you with my own hands on those cursed grounds if you take one more step.”

Levi was staring at you, his disgusted eyes everywhere on you, glaring at the man in your arms. He took another step.

You imagined it, his blade slicing Zeke’s throat. His life over forever, and being the one responsible for it. Not fighting for what you wanted, for what you deemed right, was out of question.

“I said stop!”

And it was more than a shout this time. It almost took you aback, the sheer force of it, the vibrant and unbreakable words.

An inexorable command to which every being would yield.

And Levi stopped dead in his tracks. The beating of his wings suddenly lagged, bringing to a halt the storm around you. Immobile in turn, in this in-between plan of the universe which seemed to be his alone.

Every muscle on his face was twitching, betraying an anger so great that his forced stillness couldn't contain. He was fighting it, trying to break free from you. Struggling to even speak. In his hand, the blade of his weapon was trembling imperceptibly under the pressure of his fingers.

But you were no match before him. He was pure strength and determination, and you knew that whatever prevented him from hurling himself at you, would soon break. At any moment, the imposed balance would shatter. At any moment, he would win the fight. Soon, he would be on you, deadly blade slicing loved fleshes.

And you, you had to remember how to fight. You had to remember how to use the weapon the Goddess once gave you. You just had to call it.

You looked down at Zeke in your arms, his face still, his sorrow engraved behind his closed eyelids. There was no surrender. There was no acceptable ending where you were to leave him. There was just no path where you didn’t live to love him. You weren't giving up on him.

Slowly, in your mind, you remembered the touch of it, the touch of your fingers against the wooden handle. That weapon of yours, light and piercing. A spear like no other. You remembered yourself, your childish hands turned towards the Goddess, in which She had placed a weapon too big, too heavy. Too deadly. You remembered the naturalness of its throw, the extension of your arm. You remembered the bodies collapsing under its whistle, the sharp, vivid rip in the air.

You could almost feel it in your hand. Its weight, its sensation. It was almost there, crawling under the skin of your hand.

You tried, you really tried. You thought you could do it.

But nothing came when you called.

Your eyes snapped open at Levi’s voice breaking the silence.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.”

At your side, your hand remained empty.

And there was no reasoning with him. You could read it all upon his face. He had already tipped over somewhere unreachable, abandoned to panic and disgust. Fighting to get the upper hand - trying to break whatever compelled him to remain immobile.

What you had done, no one could ever understand. Not even him. That love he once had for you - was not for the one standing before him, brave and desirous. It was for the child you used to be, lost and drowsy by eternity. What you had done could be drowned by excuses, but would never be enough for him to understand.

“I lived,” you answered him, and it all came out like a river in spate, “I tried to live! And you are not allowed to blame me for it. I wanted all the things I thought I never needed, all the things of which I had been deprived. I only wanted my life back, that’s all I ever did. I denied it all for so long, but I had to fall, didn’t I? I guess I had to fall, to find my place among the ashes.”

His face twisted into a wince, his whole body shaking with rage. “You let this swine corrupt you,” he snapped back at you. “For what? For the fleeting feeling of being alive? You let him touch you, you let him-…"

"You don't know a hundredth of what we've done! You don't know anything!”

“Oh, but I know everything! I know what you have done, you idiot!”

“Why does it matter to you? You all thought I was dead! Would have it been better if I were dead?”

“Our fleshes are sacred! Ymir made us who we are so we could watch over this world, not to get our hands dirty with it!”

“And yet she let it rot!” you shouted, and as you spoke, you held Zeke’s body tighter. “She let her own children die and suffer in wars so old they forgot why they even fought in the first place. You think because she saved a handful of us, thousands of years ago, she is a fair ruler?”

“Look outside! Look at what they did to you! They are the ones to blame for all of this.”

“Are they really?”

Were they really to blame, while abandoned by the goddess for millennia, they had to rebuild a world gone up in smoke, growing up upon lands stained by blood. This hatred, like a heritage of a godless people, was not making any sense.

Yet everything had emanated from her.

Ymir, the Mother of all things, was the starting point of everything; the world’s creator, its protector and its only Goddess.

But she had chosen to destroy it, while Mankind, jealous of her eternity and power, had defiled the ground of Paradis. She was the one who had cursed them, who had turned the verdurous lands of her own world upside down and made the oceans spit fire. She was the one who had torn the sky from the surface, promising forever to watch her children kill each other on once fertile lands.

She was the one who taught you how to fear and how to hate. She was the one who showed you how to kill. She had been the one responsible for destroying everything, and eventually - for cursing them.

“Do you think the diluted hatred in their blood is truly theirs? Can’t you see that this,” and you waved at the world around you, at the ruins of this temple, at the corpses in the grass, at the smoke in the sky, “is not our legacy?

“This is the cost they have to pay.” The gravel of his voice. Everywhere. Embroidering under your skin.

“And I refuse to stand there as she keeps on murdering the children of her children. I refuse to remain silent in the face of her atrocity.”

A grimace of pain flashed on his face as he said, “She made you who you are. She gave Her own life to have you live.”

“And how many did she make you take?” you spitted. “How much did it cost you?”

His face fell. For the first time, he looked at you in disbelief.

Because he knew that you weren’t supposed to know. He knew those heavy secrets kept away from you. And that his mere purpose in this world was one of them.

“How-...”

“Would it be easier? Tell me, Angel of death, would it be easier to hide it?”

“Don’t call me that, you don’t know-...”

“What else must I know to understand? Don’t you dare tell me about this goddess of ours. Don’t you dare tell me she has been fair to you.”

“I accepted my duties. I didn’t do it to help Her. I did it to survive.”

“Or else what?” And you watched, you watched as he stood there, looking for an answer, looking for the words that would sound right.

You would never have known, never, all the power that truth contained, how it could turn the game around, until you held it in the palm of your hand.

“She would have gotten rid of you, Levi. Like she got rid of me.”

“No.”

“She would have made your wings wither and exiled you to the end of the world, where the bloodthirst of Mankind is as great as on the first day of the Holy Wars. She would have ripped away your memories and stifled your cries for help.”

“This is not what happened.”

You were here for a reason. Because she knew that no one would ever come here, as all of you had forgotten about this place. Because this was nothing but a punishment. The only one of her children who did not know how to fly, fallen from Paradis.

“What happened then? Has she not shaped this world with her own hands? What could have happened for a goddess to forget about her own child? So tell me, Levi. What was her purpose? How could the master of all things have failed in her duties without ever alarming us?”

You straighten yourself up, spreading your feet below your hips as you adjust Zeke’s weight in your arms. In your back, wings shrugged, waiting for an answer that never came.

“She’s tired of this world,” you said, slowly, “bored of her creation. There is no blood anymore, no prayers, no mourners pleading her name. Mankind has evolved. They kill themselves with weapons she could never have given them.

Can't you see that she is no longer amused? She doesn't need it anymore. She created mankind for her pleasure, for her own pure enjoyment. And while the gods never get bored, she got bored with the suffering of her playthings.

She’s trying to get rid of it. She enslaved her most powerful children, sending them to kill themselves in cruel and aimless labor - while the useless ones she abandons to the edge of the world. She turned the most powerful of them all into an obedient little soldier, while the rest of us went numb in hollowness. This is only the beginning - it takes time to erase and start again. The only purpose she has been pursuing was to get rid of this world. And whether you like it or not, we are part of it.”

And right as you spoke, the balance broke.

Except it was not because he fought back, because his power had broken the weight of the order. It was because he surrendered.

He flinched back.

Behind you, all around you, the deafening sound of something shattering sounded. It was coming from the sky, from deep within the earth. Your eyes snapped toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, and from there, you could see immense cracks tearing the gray sky.

“There is no time left,” Levi said, and your eyes snapped back at him. He sounded so flat, as if none of it was affecting him anymore.

It was about to break. This quiet word you were all plunged in. Soon, the winter was to be over.

“Just let me go,” you said in a whisper, voice suddenly quivering.

His eyes were turned towards the destroyed ceiling. He wasn't looking at you anymore, anger and disgust gone. On his face, only deception could be seen. And as he spoke, his eyes remained fixed towards the gray sky.

“I won’t leave you here.”

“You can leave us here, you can forget about me!”

But he was not listening anymore. He was not fighting back.

“Come home with me,” he said.

“It’s not home. It never was.,”

“Stop it. Please,” he said, and his eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. Something in his voice was urgent. And in his back, his silver wings resumed their flutter.

“I’m begging you, just leave me here,” you were shaking your head. You were pleading.

He took a step forward.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” you shouted. Zeke’s body was tight against your chest, the warm scent of his life against your skin, “Just leave me here, as if you had never found me!”

His wings flared out.

It was like witnessing the return of spring, the moist heat rising to your cheeks, the world suddenly overflowing, full of scents, too much heat. It was like watching the world regain its colors, after being plunged in the dark for so long.

Only it was terrifying. It was the last grain of sand in the hourglass, about to be swallowed down. It was not a rebirth of any kind. It was the return of something that meant the end. It was the bodies outside that would finally die, where the winter had taken everything. It was the end.

He didn’t answer, sweeping a cold stare across your face. So heavy of meaning, the disappointment palpable. Under it, you slightly flinched, its weight more meaningful than a thousand words.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And suddenly everything around you was pitch black. All that was to be seen were his two silver eyes. Transfixed on you.

You felt it coming, dryness drawing on your eyes.

Everything was dark, and he was everywhere, silver eyes shining so intensely that you couldn't take your eyes off, a too brutal attraction. It was like being dragged against your will into lands too far away to ever imagine. A rapture that meant the end. You were not to blink or it was over.

Don’t close your eyes.

In your arms, Zeke made a movement. His body was coming back to life, warm and clammy.

You felt him regain consciousness. Then, you heard the sweet sound of his voice. A mumble, his weight adjusting, trying to straighten up. You felt his hand, sliding down your shoulder. He called for you, his voice exhausted. He whispered “love?" against your neck.

And yet you could not take your eyes off death.

When you leaned in, grabbing his face with one of your hands, your eyes couldn't avert the unyielding silver colored eyes. He was getting closer. It was too late.

"Listen to me, Zeke. Listen to me carefully."

Not yet. Don’t blink.

You tried to resist, but all of it, it was too strong, swallowing you whole, towards unescapable halls. There was nothing, nothing you could do.

“You have to swear,” you said, voice broken, echoing faintly, “Swear that you will keep your eyes closed.”

Or it’s all over.

Before you, only the blade of his eyes. There, so close, inevitable. Already engulfing everything. And it hurt, hurt so sharply, eyes burning from resisting, from standing up against him.

You would have liked so badly, one last time, to see the blue of his eyes, the tempestuous color of the ocean. To lose yourself in their vastness.

There was no ending of your story where you were to leave him.

“What you will see will only kill you.”

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yeagerdaydreams · 2 years

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A/N: We're almost finished week three and we're gonna switch it up and do a little dancing for the other Yeager sibling. Zeke, here we come. 😌 If you want to be added to the taglist for Kinktober send me an ask or a DM. The taglist will be open until October 28th so get on it while you can! Age must be in bio or easily found to be added to the taglist.

Character: Zeke Yeager (x fem!Reader)

Warnings: smut, blow job, 18+ content, oral sex (reader giving), dirty talk, hair pulling, swallowing, x fem!Reader, pet names (baby girl, Zeke boy, baby, good girl, darling, my love, naughty girl, pretty girl, princess), dancing, offensive language (swearing), minors DNI

Word Count: 1.3k

Kinktober Masterlist

The music was loud enough to drown out everything singe thing around you. Enough to make you completely lose yourself as you did the menial chores around the house that you wished would disappear forever. But just like every single time that you cleaned you always ended up doing more dancing and singing than you did the actual task at hand. The sway of your hips had surprised even you when it happened. The normal foolish dancing that always accompanied your time was now something completely different. You were in your own world as you found yourself gripping the counter in the kitchen.

The way your hips dropped down and came back up quickly made the person standing in the archway of the room laugh. You hadn’t even noticed that he was there. How long had he been standing there? You let out a small gasp and let your head drop back, keeping your grip on the counter. “Zeke, my love, what are you doing here?” You peeked at the clock on the wall and turned to lean against the counter. “You weren’t supposed to be back for a few more hours.”

Zeke Yeager could barely contain himself as he watched you. The vision of your ass bouncing in front of him was now burned into his mind. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and cleared his throat, leaning against the doorframe as he placed his hands in his pockets. “The warrior's meeting ended earlier than we had intended it to. But please… don’t stop what you’re doing on my account.” A dastardly smirk painted his features as he locked eyes with you. “By all means, keep going.”

You could see the wheels in his head turning deviously. The way he looked at you like an animal stalking its prey gave you a small boost in your ego. A flirty giggle escaped your lips as you took hold of your phone and turned the volume up on the speaker. “You like what you see, huh?” You grabbed the sides of your shirt and tugged, the buttons popping as they pulled apart. “Just can’t get enough of the way my hips move for you?”

Zeke growled deep in his chest, a peek of the bra that you wore under the button-up shirt making his cock twitch against his pants. You were in rare form today and he was thanking his lucky stars that he had been able to get out of that meeting early. Your hands gripped onto the front of his shirt as you tugged him toward you. Zeke’s large hand grabbed your hair and you got closer, tugging the back of it as he held you out at arm's length. “You’re very brave today, you think you’ve got me just where you want me, don't you? Think that all of this is just enough to make me bow to you? Such a naughty girl. You better give me something delicious if you want to make me a blubbering mess.”

That was a challenge, one that you were ready to take as his hand let your hair go, your body swaying as you turned and backed your ass into his hips. Your ass shook against him, feeling his bulge pulse against you. Another grunt left him as his knees weakened, a snarl nearly escaping as he bit his tongue. “I think I might be the winner here, Zeke Boy, but I guess we’ll find out for sure very soon.”

Your arms wound up around his neck as your ground yourself against him more, matching the music perfectly as you let your sultry voice sing along to every word flawlessly. Zeke’s hands rest on your hips, his body now moving with yours as he thrust himself forward gently. “Such a pretty girl with such a heavenly voice. I knew I was the luckiest man in Marley.”

Despite all of his big talk, you knew Zeke Yeager. You knew that you had him exactly where you wanted him and even though you absolutely wanted to make him a blubbering mess like he had said you knew that the warrior's meetings were some of the hardest on him. It was his turn to be taken care of, he was always taking care of the others after all.

You turned back around and gripped the front of his jacket, dropping slowly to your knees with another sway of your hips. His head tilted back as he felt your hands sliding down his legs. This was definitely not what he had been expecting when he had come home. Nails clinked against the metal of the belt buckle that he wore, your hands tugging at it as you kept a lustful gaze on him. The second that his pants dropped down and his boxers moved you ran your tongue across your lips.

His cock stood erect for you, drops of precum dripping down the tip as you run your tongue over him, licking every drop up. Zeke’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hand instinctively coming down to touch the top of your head. “Fuck baby girl.”

You moved forward, taking his length into your mouth as his hips matched you. Your pace was slow at first, letting you set it as your bobbed back and forth on him, but the longer it continued the faster his hips became. He thrust himself roughly, gripping the back of your head to keep you in place as he pushed his cock as far as he could. Your own eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you felt his grip on your hair tighten, his praises enough to send you reeling. The ache in your loins was growing more and more with every tug and push. “Just like that baby girl. Mmm, taking my cock so well. Gonna give you all that I’ve got when you swallow me like a good girl.”

The more desperate his voice became the closer he was to losing himself. “Good fucking girl. Such a good fucking girl. Can’t believe that you’re all mine.” His hips slowed as he felt that coil in his abdomen tightening, not quite ready to let himself come apart yet, but knowing that he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “Shit, ‘m so close, darling.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt him hit the back of your throat, intensity behind each slow rut as he pushed himself closer and closer. And when he couldn’t hold it back anymore his hips stuttered, a low growl reverberating through him as he emptied himself out. “I’m gonna-... fuck.” Thick ropes of cum shot down the back of your throat as he sang more praises directed at you. “Look so beautiful swallowing me like that. Making me feel so good, on top of the damn world.”

You gripped the sides of his legs and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, cock drunk as you gave him a provocative grin. “Good just for you, my love. Just wanna make you happy. Know just how to please you.”

Zeke gripped your wrist and pulled you up to your feet, tipping your head back to give you a quick peck on your lips. “That’s right. But don’t you dare think that you’re getting away that easily. I wanna see that pretty little ass up on the counter in five seconds so I can give you the same thing. Taste for a taste, princess.”

Taglist: @bakubabes-tatakae @wall-maria-fritz @rosyhearts4all @animedaddymilkers

Taglist Note: If your name is popping up with a line through it, it means that for some reason I am unable to tag your blog, there may be a setting somewhere that you need to change.

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l1zk4 · 1 year

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Can someone, please, recommend me some #zeke yeager x reader fics? It can also be one-shots, some headcanons you find interesting, anything. Preferably something without smut or if there is some, it's not the main focus of the story. I'd really appreciate it, thanks :))

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x you #zeke yeager x y/n

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ackerpretty · 5 months

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Eren Coded 🩷

#eren x black reader #aot smut #zeke smut #eren smut #levi smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren x black fem!reader #eren x y/n #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #armin x black reader #armin x reader #connie x black reader

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prettygiri222 · 6 months

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Summary: you're a succubus looking for a new victim, unaware you've become one

Any character really x Black Fem Reader SMUT

as a succubus, you loved going for the frat boys. they were always so eager to get a pretty girl like you in bed promising you a good time. but you quickly turned into their worst nightmare, ripping orgasm after orgasm from their already spent cocks.

"o-oh fuck! nomorenomore it hurts!" they would cry out. they would be spazzing out and twitching underneath you, arms struggling to get a good grip on your waist as you continuously rolled your hips against them. the friction against your clit was enough to draw your second orgasm of the night. but not enough to make you lose your mind. their heads would fall back into their flat pillows as you milked yet another orgasm out of them.

“awh” you cooed at them mockingly. “is my baby boy too tired?” they would frantically nod, praying for you to get off them as if they weren’t the ones who begged you to get into their beds in the first place. they had come so much it physically hurt.

the intricately designed heart-shaped tattoo that covered your womb shimmered a dull pink as you absorbed their essence. it was your symbol as a succubus and kept track of your hunger. frat boys never kept you full for long, they were only enough to hold you off for a few days.

eventually, you moved on to the jocks. you had guys ranging from the football team to the basketball team to the soccer team. they had stamina, keeping you full for a few more days but something was still missing.

"you like that, huh?" they asked, slapping your ass. they loved doggy, watching the way your ass jiggled and the lack of intimacy. you could care less, always shoving your face into the pillows to hide your displeasure.

their thrusts would get sloppy after their first orgasm and they often neglected your pleasure chasing their own release. but they did satiate your hunger a bit longer. your symbol glowing brighter.

due to your bias, you failed to notice the lust-filled eyes that watched your every move. he was just a regular guy, or that’s what you thought of him at first glance. he easily blended into the school’s crowds with his oversized sweaters and baggy jeans that didn’t do his sculpted body justice.

but he was infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on your beautiful form. he loved how you always wore such slutty outfits. your short skirts that were the size of a belt. how he easily caught glimpses of the lacey panties and thongs you wore. the way your tongue piercing made an appearance when you licked your plump lips always coated in a sparkly gloss. and he loved that no matter how thick your shirts were your nipple piercing would always poke through.

but he was obsessed with the tramp stamp you had on full display. it was a deviated heart tattoo with devil wings and black ink that stood out boldly against your brown skin. the design intrigued him and with a quick google search he found out why. apparently, it was a succubus tattoo. you were a succubus. a demon obsessed with sex it drained men for their essence.

he couldn’t lie, the idea of you being such a sinful creature was a fantasy he couldn’t get out of his head. he spent days jerking off to the thought of you appearing in his room just so you could drain him. just the thought of you was enough to have blood pooling to the head of dick, it left him nauseous.

but he could never approach you. not when the faintest whiff of your sweet perfume made him pop boners like he was a sixth grader with a crush on his history teacher. you were like a walking aphrodisiac. he felt the room grow hotter anytime you entered, his pale skin flushing easily. it was honestly a shame how you didn’t notice this bundle of desire.

“oh fuck me” you grumbled in the back of the lecture. you opened your phone to a message from the 6’4 basketball player you were planning on linking later saying he had a late practice. you would’ve urged him to skip practice like you did last week but his coach was getting on his ass about missed practices. he said if he missed anymore he was going to be pulled from the starting lineup.

this was the problem with fucking athletes, you had to work around their schedules. you rolled your eyes at the message leaving it on seen. it’s been a week since you last had sex and you were starving. the only reason you held out this long was because this guy was one of your favourites. he didn’t eat pussy but he always made sure to have you creaming on his dick.

you let out a deep sigh. you were in trouble and you could feel it. despite not currently being aroused you felt yourself dampening the denim material of your skirt. the thick cotton of your turtle neck couldn’t hide your hardened nipples.

as a succubus, you gain energy from sexual intercourse with men. but if you aren’t careful you could kill somebody by draining their energy completely. you feed off of their pleasure so it’s fine to neglect your own but where’s the fun in that?

when you starve you begin to give in to your sinful nature. you become the monster in folklore, the sex-hungry demon that feeds off of any and every man they come across. who fuck them to death, literally. but you didn’t want to become that monster. you enjoyed living among humans so you developed a consistent feeding system to avoid giving in to your monster.

you crossed your legs under your desk hoping to relieve yourself. regardless of being a succubus you had standards, you didn’t just fuck any and everyone. the professor was drawing on and on about an essay at the end of the week but it was the least of your worries.

you briefly looked over the people in the class. there was no one in the class that stood out to you. you had attempted to hook up with a guy that sat next to you at the beginning of the year and it was the worst you’ve ever experienced. the guy was cute but he was a virgin. he didn’t know what to do and tried to insert his dick into your ass with no prep. that was the first and last time you went for someone who didn’t ooze sex appeal.

you were about to return your eyes to the professor when you locked eyes with him. your eyes widened in surprise at the intensity of his gaze. he was sitting a few rows behind you placing him in your blind spot. his eyes were dilated in an emotion you knew all too well, lust.

he was completely out of it, he didn’t even notice that you locked eyes with him. you could feel yourself grow hotter at the attention. he was basically eye-fucking you, undressing you right there in the middle of a lecture. probably having his way with you on top of the desks in front of everyone in his daydream. a smile graced your lips, you had found your victim.

the second the lecture ended you threw your tote bag over your shoulder and made your way over to him, swaying your hips. he was focused on packing up his laptop but you saw him stiffen up the moment you got close. he shot a quick glance in your direction before standing pin-straight.

“excuse me” you softly called out from beside him. he looked around before pointing to himself. “yes you” you let a little giggle at his bashfulness. was he really the guy who had you flustered just a few minutes ago?

“oh uhm, hey” his voice squeaked when you pressed yourself against his arm. a blush rose to his cheek as he avoided direct eye contact with you. his eyes focusing on random students who were making their way out of the lecture.

“could you help me with something?” you asked in that perfected singsong tone yours. looking up at him innocently from beneath your lashes you pressed your soft tits against his chest. his adam apple bobbed as he quickly looked you up and down, eyes briefly stopping when he noticed your visible nipple piercings.

afraid his voice would betray him again he frantically nodded. you had him right where you wanted him. you shot him a dimpled smile before leading him out of the lecture hall and towards your dorm. he sucked in a sharp breath when you walked up the stairs in front of him. every step you top hiked up your already short skirt. you weren’t wearing anything underneath so your bald lips were on display.

you lived in a one-room dorm on campus but you never brought your victims over. you preferred to go over to their dorm but this was a dire situation. you needed to be fed. you hurriedly shoved him onto your bed.

“are you sure about this?” he whispered breathlessly. you had him sitting on the edge of your bed with his jeans pooled around his ankles and you were sitting on your knees in front of him.

"uhm" you mumbled half-heartedly. you were focused on stroking his dick. it was on the thinner side but it was pretty long. there was a vein on the underside that you traced while licking his tip.

“oh fuck” he let out a little whimper when you licked him all the way from the base to the tip before taking all of him into your mouth. he gripped your soft silk sheets in his sweaty palms trying to stop himself from bucking into your mouth. you were grinding against your foot desperate for some stimulation.

the sensation of your tongue piercing on his shaft contrasting against your warm wet tongue almost made him cum. you traced his tip with the ball of your piercing, delighted with the way he shivered. “shit, it’s cold.” he whined.

you bobbed your head looking up at him feeling your wetness pool in between your legs. he was staring at you in awe as you slobbered all over him. your saliva running down his shaft and pooling at his base. your sparkly gloss was smudged all over your cheek.

you alternated between bobbing your head and licking his tip while you massaged his shaft with your hand. letting out an occasional hum when the tip of his dick reached the back of your throat. when you felt his legs tense up you knew he was close.

“you’re like a fucking pro” he stretched out his hands and tangled his fingers in your mini twists. he pulled your hair back into a ponytail so he could get a better lock at you. “i knew your pretty ass was a -fuck- a slut”

you let out a whimper around his dick answering him. your pussy fluttering at his backhanded compliment. while you didn’t have a gag reflex the repeated action of his tip hitting the back of your throat caused you to tear up. your big lips were even plumper as they swole around his dick. he was getting harder just looking at your messed-up state.

he wasn’t ashamed to let out louder moans, letting you know it wouldn’t be long until he came. you stuck your tongue out while stroking his dick, his hot cum landing on it. his face was flushed with pink and his light eyes dilated as he watched you swallow his cum. you opened your mouth to show him proof, your pink tongue empty. “fuck, you’re so hot”

you felt your womb gleam with contentment but it wasn't enough. he was panting hard as you pushed him back on your baby pink sheets. you lifted your shirt off overhead, his eyes widened with the glimpse of your tattoo but you ignored his reaction, most guys just thought it was an obscene tattoo.

you stripped off your short skirt with haste, you wanted more. you hopped on the bed and straddled him. you balanced on your toes while you rubbed his dick between your lips coating it in your slick. you heard him suck in a breath at the sight of your glistening cunt.

"oh shit," you hissed out as you lowered yourself onto his dick. he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by your warmth. you pulled up his shirt revealing his broad chest. he let out a soft moan as you placed your cool hands on his pecs, steadying yourself.

"you're so cute," you cooed. you grinded against him forcing out his little sobs while stimulating your clit. you loved the way he easily blushed, the way his pale skin turned pink.

"you're so good to me" he whined out, grabbing at the fleshy part of your hips. he was rolling his hips against yours desperate for more friction.

"yea?" you asked, wanting to hear more of his whiny voice. you lifted yourself up, removing everything but the tip of his dick before slamming back down.

"yesyesyes" he was bucking up against you frantically, nailing you where you needed it the most. "always saw your pretty ass b-but -ohhh shit- could never talk to you." you angled yourself so he could continuously pound your spongy spots, too caught up to acknowledge his confession. it wasn’t long until he painted your insides white, your pussy clenching in satisfaction.

you were a sight to see right now. he believed the sites when they said succubus had otherworldly beauty. if he thought you were pretty before you were utterly gorgeous right now. your brown skin was glowing in the dim lights and the way you bounced on his was magical. your tits jumped with every thrust, your eyes were glossed over and your pupils seemed to be heart-shaped. something he hadn’t noticed before.

but your tattoo was glowing. that had to be a telltale sign that you were a succubus. besides the mind-numbing pleasure you were putting him through. he was twitching from overstimulation and you were still bouncing on his dick. your pussy making delicious squelching noises as you bounced on him.

“you’re so tight” he whined out. your tight hole was squeezing around him and it was so warm and wet. he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet. but you knew what you were doing, the way you skillfully rolled your hips providing pleasure to the both of you. you were quickly drawing him to another orgasm.

you bite your swollen lips as you focus on the growing sensation in your lower abdomen. you could tell he was close when you felt him twitch underneath you. “mhm, you close baby?” you called out to him. he nodded, way too lost in pleasure to find his voice as you drew him to another orgasm with you following close behind. your hips stuttered as a wave of pleasure washed over your whole body.

you rode him through both of your orgasms. a puddle of wetness and cum formed around the base of his shaft as proof. his eyes were closed and he breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down. he looked a mess, there was drool around his mouth, his straight hair touselled and damp with sweat, his skin flushed a deep shade of pink and a thin layer of sweat shined on his face.

you had to forcefully stop yourself from bouncing on him further. you had to leave him with some energy to get home. you looked down at your tattoo watching as it glowed a dim pink while you absorbed his essence. you would be content for a day or two hopefully enough to give you a chance to hook up with your favorite basketball player. but you were far from satisfied.

you let out a deep sigh as you slowly rose off of him. he let out a whimper at the loss of your heat. you hopped off the bed looking for a towel while he remained lying down.

“you can leave whenever you want,” you said nonchalantly. this is why you hated one-night stands at your dorm, it would get so awkward. you preferred fucking guys at their own dorm so you could disappear while they slept. but you were desperate.

you heard shuffling noises and assumed he was getting ready to go. but it got quiet and you felt a gaze burning against your naked form. you ignored him, continuing to gather items for your shower.

"i'm not done with you" a deep voice called from behind you. your eyes opened in shock as you looked back. he was standing right behind you, towering over you frighteningly. there was a dark look in his eyes as started you down.

“excuse me…” your mouth dried up when you looked down between you two. he was completely naked now and his dick was standing at attention, it was hard and it somehow seemed bigger than before. it was an angry red as pre-cum leak from the tip. you felt yourself grow wetter from his confrontation.

"i've been watching you for a while but you never looked my way. always batting those eyelashes of yours at those stupid frat boys and jocks, huh." he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look up at him. his jaw was clenched tight and he glared down at you. "bet you don't even know my name and we’ve been in the same class for almost a year now." his voice was hoarse as he looked into your eyes.

you meekly nodded. as a succubus who fed off of sexual energy you had to be ashamed for never noticing someone who was soaking in it. his light-coloured eyes were filled with so much emotion that it made your heart swell. a feeling you’ve never experienced with your sexual partners.

“don’t worry though, i’ll take good care of your slutty succubus pussy.” you froze in shock. “make sure you’re well fed.”

Part 2 right here

Characters I had in mind while writing this:

ARMIN, Eren, Zeke, Jean, Geto, Choso, Megumi, anyone you want really

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neesieiumz · 1 year

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| ֍ ⸻ 𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 ⳼ 𝙯𝙚𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙧

「 synopsis 」 ⸻ zeke yeager is a good person, said no one ever

「 warnings 」 ⸻ 18+. minors do not interact. infidelity. lawyer!zeke. trophy-wife!reader. fem!reader. afab!reader black-coded!reader. reader comes from old money, has a wealthy family and has a huge inheritance. that's basically the whole reason why her husband married her. reader's husband is an OC named Michail Palakos. he's also very condescending to you. mainly Zeke's pov, but there is a transition from zeke's pov to your own but it isn't explicitly said. manipulation on zeke's end. pwp. cunnilingus. fingering. missionary. couch sex. bathroom sex. zeke wraps his hand around your throat but he doesn't choke you. hair pulling. degradation. he calls you a slut as well. multiple scenes and transitions, with dividers. zeke bends you over your bathroom sink. zeke had a plan and he finally got his platform.

「 writer's notes 」 ⸻ this is so late 💀💀💀, I was so lazy with getting this out. I did an exercise for myself to come up with fic ideas and this one and the professor!shunsui idea are the ones that stuck with me. it was originally named dianthus but it thought vespertine was a better fitting name for it. after I finish eren's part in gold rush and the next chapter of basorexia, that shunsui idea is definitely the next one

「 word count 」 ⸻ 6.7k.

Zeke Jaeger believes he’s a good person.

As he sat around the small ballroom, overly bored out of his mind as he swirled around a glass of brown liqueur. The suit he wore was a tad bit too tight around his neck, and the bright lights were giving him a slight migraine. He let out an internal sigh, before laughing along to another joke one of the many old geezers sitting at his table let out. One of the many parts of his job he hates, pandering and pampering people who held the key to everything he needed and desired for the real parts of the job that he loved. The smile he wore was pretentious in nature as his eyes began to drift across the room. Lifting his hand, he took a long sip of his drink, before his eyes landed across the room.

The lights reflected and shimmered against gold glitter, etched into the main hem of the skirt. His eyes moved up, seeing your beautiful braids trail down your back oh-so beautifully. His heart twisted as they landed on your wide smile. You held a drink in your hand, a champagne flute as Zeke’s eyes darted towards the hand wrapped around her waist. The man holding her close held a pretentious smirk, as he flaunted his wife off like a trophy, which to be fair, is exactly what she was meant to be. Her beautiful skin shined in the room, it was obvious she was meant to be looked at.

Zeke took the last sip of his drink, before standing up, excusing himself from the conversation of which he had no idea the main subject of. He pushed past other tables, smiling, waving, and nodding at those who acknowledged him before making his way across the room. He gently excused himself past people deep in their own conversations. His partner saw him approach first, eyes lighting up slightly as he basically shoved past you to get to him, hand reaching out towards them.

Zeke let off a smirk, before reaching out before pulling him into a handshake converted into a side hug. The person the two of you were talking to quickly gave Zeke a small greeting, before walking off to refill his drink. You smiled at Zeke, much softer and felt more real than the other smile you were once adorning. Hold your arms open, and you pull him for a hug which he reciprocates, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Your grip on him slightly together for a moment before fully releasing, taking a step back. In doing so, your husband wrapped his arm back around your waist.

“I thought you found these kinds of parties to be pretentious, Zeke?” His co-worker, Michail Palakos, spoke first.

Zeke shrugged his shoulders, shoving his free hand into his pocket, “just reaching my monthly quota with the big bosses.”

You let off a giggle this time, covering your plump lips with your hand. The sound was sweet in his ears, it twisted his heart just a little. He wondered what other sound he could hear from you? What else could you show him?

“I feel you on that, these types of things can be so exhausting,” Michail spoke, suddenly grabbing the flute of your handi and basically downing the rest before gagging, giving you the empty glass.

“Ugh, I don't know how you women can drink things like that,” he complained, taking a step away from you.

Zeke saw the way your statute deflated, hands clasping and coming up in front of you, stopping your fidgeting hands. He shook his head slightly, humming a little before lifting his glass, and taking another sip only to taste cold water. He blinked, before looking down at his glass, nothing but melting ice in there. Michail noticed his empty glass before turning towards you.

“Be a dear and get us some more drinks, preferably something actually enjoyable.” he said before fully turning away from you, facing Zeke.

Zeke glanced over at you as your mood only dampened, before turning away, and walking towards the open bar on the other side of the room. His eyes didn't leave you as you reached the bar until the man beside him spoke up.

“This latest case has got me stressed, you?”

Zeke shrugged his shoulders, swirling his empty cup, “I’ve finished my parts in it, if you need help with yours, it’s not a problem.”

Michail let out a laugh, sarcastic in nature, hand popping out, slapping Zeke on the back. Zeke felt a level of disgust run through him as the man acted as if they were close friends. He only dealt with it, as he couldn't do much else within the firm. Heels clicking again the porcelain floors brought his attention back as he turned, seeing you walking back to them with two identical drinks in hand. You smelled of a luxurious vacation, of sweet honeyed neroli oil and sugared coconuts. It was intoxicating, you were intoxicating. You handed the two of them the drinks, smiling over at Zeke before moving to stand beside your husband. Michail took a sip of the drink, humming and shrugging his shoulders.

“Least you can get one thing right,” he mumbled before taking another sip.

You let out a nearly slight sigh, straightening up your figure before looking at Zeke, a smile appearing back on your face.

“So back to this case, Zeke,” Michail started, but Zeke shook his head.

“Rather not talk about working during things like this, just wanted to come over and check in with you. We’ll talk tomorrow,” He said, taking a sip of the drink you brought over.

Michail’s eyebrows quivered but still nodded in Zeke’s direction. Zeke began to turn away from him, but not before he reached out towards you, taking one of your hands, before placing a soft kiss on it. He could feel your hand tensing within his hold, glancing up at you, seeing your eyes soften at his gesture. With that, he bidded the two of you good night before walking off towards the exit. He finished his drink, handing it off to the servers ambling around the room, before escaping into the night.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

He could only roll his eyes at the way Michail flipped his phone upside down after swiping at it for the fifth time within the last 45 minutes. It was quite obvious who was calling him, as it was etching into 9 o’clock at night. It was the two of them and some other associates, preparing for a big case. Zeke looked at him along with the other people in the room, all wondering the same thing.

“You should probably answer it, if it’s important?” One of the younger associates called out.

Michail only rolled his eyes, “it’s just the wife, wondering why I’m not home yet. Something about a dinner party tonight? I don’t fucking know…” he trailed off, mumbling at the last part.

Zeke blinked, mind thinking back to you, the constant point on your face he would see you with. His thoughts only broke when the sounds of vibrations were heard throughout the room. Everyone gleaned down at Michail’s phone once again, before looking over at his face, flushed with annoyance. He picked up his phone once again, before suddenly standing up, his chair nearly flying back.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled before stepping out of the room.

The atmosphere was slightly tense but everyone mainly focused on getting back to their work. Zeke was flipping through a huge packet, highlighting important information before the door flew back open. Everyone looked back up only to see Michail enter back into the room, hands in both of his pockets as he sat down, before focusing back on the piles of papers in front of him. Zeke looked at him for a few more moments, before rolling his eyes once more, focusing back on his work. He knew Michail wouldn't bother to actually go home to you.

Three hours rolled by and everything was set, most of everyone had already gone home as it was etching onto eleven o’clock. It was only Zeke and Michail left, with Zeke soon reaching the last part of his work. Just as he finished dotting the last sentence of his notes, he heard a loud yawn as well as the creak of the desk chair before glancing over to his right and seeing Michail stand up. As the man packed up his papers, he glanced down at the watch on his wrist.

“She should be asleep by now,” he mumbled under his breath, placing his laptop and papers in his bag.

Zeke said nothing, watching him sling the bag over his shoulders. Michail looked over at Zeke and gave a one-handed wave before heading off into the night. Zeke could only sigh, placing his pen down as he tried his best to relax his mind. As he did so, his mind began to pump fantasies of you asleep on the bed. What would you be wearing? A dainty little nightgown, riding up your beautiful dark thighs, or would you wear nothing at all? Zeke groaned, through his hand back as he began to palm his growing hard-on. He could see himself towering over you, drunk off of your sleeping presence. He imagined himself, grabbing at your legs, peeling them back, spreading them wide open.

He let out a groan as he envisioned your eyes fluttering open just as he sunk himself into you, stretching you out like so. Your melodious voice crying out to him, begging him for more, your hands digging marks into his arms as he pummeled into you. Fantasy upon fantasy amassing within him, Zeke could only let out gasp-like groans, throwing his head back as his seed spilled out, bleeding through his khaki-colored pants. Breathing heavily, moving his head back down, he could only let out a sound of slight disgust as he looked down at his stained pants. He stood up and began to pack up his own work, before heading towards his office for a change of clothes. As he pulled off the stained pants, his mind wandered back to the events that had just happened, how his reveries had overflown at that moment.

And how he has finally made his decision.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Zeke stood up straight as he rang the doorbell, before taking a step back. It was mid-day, and it was one of the few days Zeke decided to take. He tucked his hands in his pockets after glancing over at his watch. He heard noises getting closer before the sound of the deadbolt clicking, and the intricate door slowly opening. He found himself facing an unknown figure, one glance at her outfit and she was obviously someone who had worked for you and your husband.

“Yes, may I help you?” She asked him.

He cleared his throat, but just before he could speak, another voice cut through. He glanced up as your form peeped behind the maid.

“Riza, who’s at the door?”

Your eyes landed on his, almost immediately lighting up, “Zeke! What a surprise, come in!”

Once you said that, the maid stepped back, nodding slightly towards you before scurrying along into the house. Zeke took a few steps into the house, taking in the vaguely familiar surroundings. The last time he had been in here was when Michail had hosted his housewarming when he arrived at the firm three years ago, that's when the two of you had first met. All that time had passed by between you two and yet, it was his second time stepping into the three-story luxury mansion.

His eyes locked onto your form, seeing your hips sway as you led him past the anteroom, towards a more casually designed, yet still obviously opulent living room. You wore a two-piece silk lounge outfit, the hems of the arms and legs fitted with tulle ruffles. Your hair was wrapped in a silk scarf, it was obvious you weren’t expecting company today. You gestured for him to sit, taking the seat two cushions down from him before looking over at the maid standing close to you. You told her to bring some snacks, as well as any bottle of wine that would pair well. Zeke tried to interject, but you were already sending her off. You were vague with your instructions, he noted, you must have trusted this maid very well.

Riza, the maid, nodded before scurrying along, most likely headed to the kitchen to prepare what you have asked for. Once she was gone, it was just the two of you, and it strained Zeke to keep his eyes right on your face as you gave him a soft smile.

“This really was a surprise, I haven’t seen you in here since… well since we actually moved in. I always see you at Michail’s work events and such… but never here. What brings you by? Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” You ended your spiel with a question.

Zeke hummed, shrugging his shoulders a bit before leaning back against the back of the couch, “took the day off, my parents actually live around here, and was visiting them when I passed by your place. Thought I should stop by.” He lied through his teeth, his parents preferred to come and visit him at his penthouse than for him to come by.

You hummed, eyes widening slightly, “From what I heard, you barely take any days off. It’s good to go and see them though. I’m sure they’ve missed you,” you smiled at yourself, turning your body slightly to face him.

Before he could respond, footsteps interrupted you, the two of you glancing over at the same time, seeing Riza enter with a tray of snacks, along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Whilst you were looking away, Zeke's eyes looked towards you, trailing down to your exposed cleavage, the thin, shimmer-like fabric pressing up against your breasts.

The sound of glass clinking against glass broke Zeke out of a trance, giving him just enough to look away. Towards the maid placing the tray on the table in front of them. You turned yourself once again, facing forward, thanking Riza as she tableed everything, before taking the tray with her as she took her leave. He reached over, immediately grabbing the bottle of wine, before taking a closer look at it. With one twist, he easily broke the seal, before grabbing the corkscrew, and fully opening it up. He poured out the red-purple alcohol, seeing you reach over for a glass.

“Should we be drinking wine this early in the day?” he asked, placing the bottle down on the table.

You grabbed a glass, raising it up slightly before winking, “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” you grinned, before taking a sip.

Zeke let off a downturned smile before grabbing his own glass and taking a long sip as well.

The two of you carried conversations well into the day, sharing the bottle of wine between the two of you. He barely took any of the snacks, keeping his focus mainly on you as you partake in them.

“So how is Michail at work, he barely talks to me about his day,” you mentioned, bringing your newly-filled glass to your lips.

He took in the slight change of mood within you, the once joyous light in your eye, dimming down to a more mirthless one. Zeke hummed, lifting his foot to rest up against the knee of his other leg.

“He’s… hard-working, but very friendly to the staff, they enjoy his presence more than me.” He took on a humorous tone but kept his eye on you as your body deflated just a bit more.

“Really…? Friendly how?”

Zeke pondered for a minute before shrugging his shoulders, “just talking to people a lot, sometimes about work but most of the time he’s not. A lot of friendly touches, especially with that new assistant of his.”

Your eyebrows quirked up, “assistant?”

“Yeah, assistant? He didn’t tell you about that?”

You shook your head, sighing before taking another long sip of your fermented alcohol, “he doesn’t tell me anything, least not anymore… most days he just comes home and doesn't say a word to me.”

You mumbled out the next part, most likely thinking that Zeke wouldn't hear you, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Doubt he’s even noticed I don’t sleep in the same bedroom with him anymore.”

Zeke said nothing but locked that into the back of his mind, another piece of the complex puzzle of your and Michail’s marriage. Zeke shifted the conversation away from you and Michail, bringing back your joyous mood. You continued talking until the sun went down, and soon after the two of you personally exchanged numbers. You stood by the door, waving him off as he got into his car, driving off and away from the large house.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

You were lonely.

Zeke could tell this from the way the two of you constantly talked. You grew up in a cold home of cold cash and empty mansions, which is how he could guess you were used to your own husband’s condescension and cold attitude. You were used to faking smiles and pretending to be interested in things that had no merit in your life. However, Zeke could tell, from the way you constantly messaged him, to always inviting him over whilst your husband was away. You craved companionship, for a long time you ached for someone to be interested in you and not the check attached to you from your parents. You came from old money, with a huge trust fund as well as stocks in your family's multiple companies. You served on the board of the main enterprise, led by your brother as your parents had retired after you had gotten married.

You hadn’t spoken to them in two months apparently, as there was nothing to really talk about. You were closer to your younger sister, as she went to the luxury private college in the city. You were like a fountain, spilling all of your life for Zeke to listen to, and he took it all in. Your phone calls lasted all the way through his lunch period and sometimes he would be on the phone with you while he was working, by himself of course. Before you knew it, three months had passed, and Zeke was a more constant thread in your life than your own husband.

Zeke couldn’t lie, something within him jumped every time you sent him a message, but his goal was still high in his head. This was why he stood in his expensive penthouse, in his recently cleaned kitchen as he gleaned over at his dinner table, two silver dorms covering the dinner he had just prepared. He had invited you over for dinner, just the two of you. Just as he buttoned the last of the cufflinks, a loud ring echoed through the home. He took one good look at himself before walking over to the door, twisting the deadbolt, and unlocking the door knob before swinging the door wide open. You stood there, a smile on your face, one hand at your side, the other holding the strap of the orange clutch you brought with you.

Your braids were pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off the obvious low cleavage of your chain-strapped orange dress. Zeke smiled at you, arms reaching out before swooping you into a hug, your own smile widened as you reciprocated, giggling as you were lifted off the ground slightly. He didn’t break the hug as he pulled you into the home, turning around. The two of you soon let go of the hug, with Zeke turning sound to go and close the door. While he did that, you took the time to engage within your surroundings, seeing the environment Zeke lives in.

“Oh wow, your home looks amazing,” you said, spinning around to take in everything.

“Thank you,” he spoke back, coming up behind you, placing a hand at the small of your back before gently guiding you towards the slightly decorated table over by the window wall.

He stopped right at the table, before stepping away, pulling out your seat before gesturing for you to sit. You thanked him, placing off your clutch before placing it right on the table and sliding right into the seat. You gasped as he stood right behind you, body heat radiating off of him as he pushed your chair in with ease. You kept your eyes on him as he walked around the table, taking a seat right in front of you. He lifted the domes off the plates, seeing your eyes light up at dinner. You had off-handly mentioned smothered lamb chops and mashed potatoes as your favorite meal your old housekeeper used to make while you were growing up. Zeke knew it wasn’t going to be the same but just having the same dish was enough for you.

You had thanked him for the dinner before y'all began to eat. The two of you ate with little words, as you were both raised in households that valued quietness during dinner. Once finished, you had moved from the table to the living room, holding another glass of red wine that you had paired with the dinner as he moved the bottle to the living room.

“I just…” you started, reminiscing on the journey you and your husband have taken, “I wish I made more of my life… rather than constantly relying on the connections my parents made for me. Maybe, I’d be strong enough to leave him.”

You had kicked off your heels at this point, toes covered in the skin-colored pantyhose you wore underneath your dress. You had rested your legs on the couch, bent and tucked away as you took another sip of your glass. Your dress had risen up, past your knees, but still covering up everything.

“Connections?” Zeke questioned.

You nodded your head, “yeah, his parents were close with mine, and he was the only boy around my age that my parents approved of. Only for me to be stuck in a loveless marriage, all for money.”

Zeke’s hand reached out, placing it right on your knee. Your body slightly jolted from the sudden contact, the feeling electrified like static electricity. His rough hand moved up and down, caressing you. Your heart sped up just a bit, but you couldn’t stop him, or rather, you didn’t want to stop him. His touch was warm, a contrast to everything else in your life. You said nothing as he scooted closer to you, his other hand coming up and pulling you close to him.

“I’ve tried my best to make it work, but he’s made it quite clear that the check my parents send every month is much more important than him,” you said, taking another sip of your wine.

Your mind flashed to your wedding, everything was perfect, and you believed your life would be perfect. You believed he loved you, he made you believe he loved you, but his love was really money, it was an almighty consumer of his life. It wasn’t enough, not enough in his professional life, not enough in his personal life. Cold hard cash was he visioned for, and he’ll do anything to get it., even if it means throwing away the warmth of his wife.

“You deserve more than a man that sees you as his next paycheck,” he said, leaning his head down towards your ear.

Zeke’s hand rubbed up and down on your arm, the warmth relaxing you, and before you knew it, you were laying your head on his shoulder. The negative thoughts about your failing marriage soon began to break away as thoughts of the man beside you began a subtle influx in your mind. Zeke smelled of blackened teakwood and a subtle sense of mahogany and lavender. His scent had you relaxing in his hold, it was the opposite of your husband, who usually smelled of spiced whiskey, from his cologne or his collection of alcohol. You couldn’t help but snuggle further into him, as lines were beginning to blur. You knew this was treading about muddy waters, but you couldn't find it within you to care. The hand resting on your thigh began to creep up, your breathing hitching just a little as your heart began to race. The hand that had once been resting on your upper arm and shoulder left for a moment, before feeling his large hands wrapped around your own, easing the half-full glass of wine off your hand before reaching down and placing it on the table.

“Lemme take care of you,” he whispered to you.

That diminutive ache that had been building within you the moment you laid eyes upon Zeke opened the door for you. This was wrong, you knew this was wrong, you thought to yourself once again as Zeke’s hand joined his other, each right on your inner thigh, massaging deep circles into the skin.

“Zeke,” you let out a gasp-like breath, hips moving and grinding against nothing.

The thong you wore underneath the dress was drenched, head thrown back in growing ecstasy. With ease, he lifted you up into his lap, trembling as you felt his hardon poking through his slacks.

“Zeke…” you let out again, tongue unable to say anything else as his fingers dipped underneath your dress.

This was wrong, this was wrong, this was wrong. However, the care you were supposed to feel, the notion to push off your one and only friend never came. Instead, it was replaced with a growing ache, and the need for touch, his touch. His fingers curved up and around the thin string before slowly pulling the sky fabric away from your pussy. Cool air hit your wetness as his fingers rubbed up and down between your slits, gathering your juices up.

“This is wrong… I shouldn’t do this…” you finally spoke up, but your hands didn’t move as he slowly sunk a finger into you.

Zeke’s hums vibrated through you, “but if I don't… who will? You deserve to be spoiled, touched upon. He does not appreciate who he has… so let me.”

His words enthralled you, enamored you as he began to move his thick finger in and out within you. Your dress had ridden up to your hips and his free hand slowly pushed your legs wide open. It allowed more room for him to finger-fuck you deeper, his hand reaching and wrapping underneath your knee, lifting it up slightly. Spit drooled from your mouth as your sticky arousal coated his finger and the knuckles of his hands. You could feel his slightly abrasive beard grazing against your skin. Letting out another choked moan as Zeke bullied another finger into you. Your hips bucked, giving in to the pleasure as he twisted his long fingers inside of you.

“That’s it… let me in,” he whispered in your ears, seeing your eyes squeezed shut.

“Let me do what your husband has failed to do.”

You could feel Zeke’s mouth upturn against you as you let out a high-pitched moan, climax rising. Your abdomen slowly tightens, heat swelling, sweat dripping as you let out a final high-pitched moan. Your cunt spilled your juices excessively coating his fingers and hand as you came all over him. Your hands had dug into his shirt, finding an anchor to try and stabilize yourself. Slowly coming down from your high, you found yourself slumping against him, breathing heavily. Your eyes were heavy, barely able to keep them open, only able to feel Zeke slowly pulling his finger out of you. His other hand slowly left your thighs, allowing your legs to slump down, feeling touching the ground.

You could feel your body moving, shuffling as you slowly were laid across the couch. You could feel his now warmed hands slide right back under your dress, moving his fingers underneath the thin fabric of your thong before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Zeke tower over you. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his toned chest. Your hands reached up, the palms of your hand grazing over the slightly textured skin. Zeke pulled off your thong, taking the soaked underwear in his hands before pocketing it in his pockets. Your hands slide up and around his body, unable to take your eyes off of him, his hands soon reaching down to his fly. You could see his erection fighting against the seams of his pants, seeing the way he slowly unzipped his pants before unbuttoning them.

Zeke pushed his slacks and boxers down at the same time, his cock springing out of its entrapment. He pushed down his clothes to his knees before bending over, hands falling to your thighs before grabbing them, slowly pushing back, knees going as far as they could towards your ears as he spread wide open for him.

“Zeke,” you whined, as he felt the tip of his cock swipe between your lips, teasing your clit.

With no other warning, you felt pushing himself into you, letting out a sudden cry. No matter the amount of prep Zeke took, you were still so tight, more evidence of how little your husband touched you. Zeke ignored your pleas and cried for him to “slow down” and “stop.” He let out a loud groan, head thrown back as he felt your walls squeezing him around him, the only thing of yours he heard was your high-pitched moans. This was everything he envisioned and more, seeing you crying under him, begging for him, your hands gripping his bare waist. His fantasy came back in full force, god the amount of time it took to make it a reality.

Zeke glanced down at your tear-streaked face. How your braids were undone from the cleaned-up ponytail you had done for the dinner. Seeing your makeup also get ruined, seeing you get ruined whilst under his body, under his hand. Oh, he could come right here and now, he thought to himself.

He held himself back, not wanting to ruin everything and end it all so quickly. He could feel your long nail breaking his skin further, using the temporary anchor, you pulled the man closer as your slightly pained please turned into a passion-filled gasp and moans, calling and screaming out his name.

“Don’t stop, aahh,” you let out a prolonged moan, tongue drooling out of your mouth as ecstasy hit at full blast.

You were like a virgin all over again, from the way you screamed, chasing an inevitable high that you have never tasted before. You never felt like this before, even after losing your virginity to some dunce in college before getting married. Even after consummating your marriage, your husband was always weak and underwhelming, Zeke was just the opposite and it was delicious. You didn’t know what to do with yourself but fell deeper into the nirvana he has placed out for you.

You find yourself keening and drooling over the bearded man above you. An even heavier and deeper climax was building within you and once again, hitting you like a ton of bricks, you squealed.

“Coming!” Was your only warning before your body shook with complete orgasmic pleasure.

Eye rolling out the back of your head as Zeke gave off one last grunt, before leaning down fully, capturing your lips into a messy, wet kiss. You could feel the wetness of the sweat dripping down his beard but you don't care, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could feel his seed filling you up as he kissed you, your legs unconsciously wrapping around his waist, keeping him closer,

Breathing heavily, your head slumped up against the couch, legs slowly releasing Zeke from your hold, before the two of you locked eyes, Zeke still holding you. With no other words, squealing as Zeke suddenly picked you up, before carrying you in his arms, possibly heading upstairs towards his bedroom.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Since that day, everything has changed.

You couldn’t let go of him, no matter how much you tried. Like you even tried at all.

From Zeke having your legs spread across his kitchen countertop, to you two having a heart-racing quickie in the bathroom of a mutual work event. It was complete madness, and you loved it. It was different, it was unique, and it was oh-so-wrong. His large hands roam your body, causing vast reactions within you. He soon learned everything that made you tick.

You had changed, your relationship with your husband had changed, and your relationship with Zeke had changed. Your conversations were constantly shifting, and every time you would visit him or vice-versa, you would find his hands on you. Your texts constantly consisted of lewd wording and imagery, you found a new use for the lacey, expensive lingeries that were almost collecting dust within your dresser. Pictures, videos of the two of you, solos of you, and solos of him. It was madness… it was freedom.

Zeke was good, so much better than the few times your husband has taken you. He towered over you, and his every demand you couldn't help but fulfill. You fell deeper and deeper into ensnarement, and you truly didn't know just how far you’ll go for him. Which is what led up to this moment right here.

You had sent Riza home early, and your husband was on a “work trip.” Giving you free rein as Zeke had you bent over your bathroom sink, silk robe bunched up at your waist, revealing your wet cunt to him. Zeke wasted no time, licking and sucking away at your pussy, your juices dripping down against his beard. Your hands gripped at the counter, head bowed down as your legs trembled. He didn’t let up, his hands attached to each cheek, spreading you wide open.

“Ooooohhhh,” you mewled, body slumping against the sink as he ravaged you.

His chuckle rattled you, causing your body to jerk and jolt against his lips. He lapped and sucked away at your clit, licking up all your juices as he did so. The bathroom smelled of soft vanilla and pink lilacs, the golden-dimmed lighting providing an extra ambiance to the scene before you. Zeke devoured you like a madman, not letting up no matter how you screamed and squirmed in his hold.

“Zeke,” you cried out his name, “s’too much, fuck fuck fuck.”

He said nothing, but his actions spoke even louder as his sucking action intensified, causing you to let out a vocal choked moan, spit flying out of your mouth, and splatter against the sink counter. With a sudden jerk, your orgasm washed over you like a rapid wave, unseen and unbeknown to you. You shook violently as you lost your footing, feeling yourself slipping for just a short moment. Zeke’s hands slid up, allowing his arms to wrap around your waist, holding you completely steady as he drank your juices down. You could feel his moans and groans as he did so, providing extra overstimulation to your clit.

Inhaling deeply, catching your sled as you dropped onto the counter, feeling Zeke behind you as he fully stood up. You glanced ahead, staring at his tall figure in the mirror, before eyeing one of the glasses of wine you had brought with you. Quickly grabbing it, taking a couple sips as you felt that familiar pressure creeping and pressing inside of you. You let out an elongated hum as you swallowed the wine, your head bent back, looking at him in his eyes as one of his hands gripped the flesh on your hips. His other hand slides up your body, before wrapping around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. He pulled you into another deep kiss, tasting the tanginess of the wine and you taste the mint of his gum.

Letting go of the kiss, you could feel his hand apply pressure as his hips slowly began to move in and out of you, your cunt squeezing around him. He easily maneuvered your body, bending you back over the sink, his hand leaving your throat before joining the other right at your waist. His pace easily picked up as you found your balance, holding onto the bathroom counter as he fucked you against it, his pace slowly picking up with every few seconds. One of his hands left your waist before easily wrapping your braids around his neck, suddenly pulling your head back with a sudden force. The pain echoed through your body, but it only pushed your pleasure to even higher heights. Your mind went hazy, your eyes swelling with your salty tears, obscuring your vision, slowly dripping down your freshly-cleaned face.

There was no reason to hold back your moans, as there was nobody home as your loud moans reverberated against the walls.

“Hmm, aww are you crying baby? Is it too much for you?” He teased you, hand leaving your hips before feeling him leave a loud smack against your deep-toned skin.

The red-hot sparks of his hand, combined with his hands still in your hair had you keened, full-on sobbing as tears and sweat dripped down your face to your neck, all the way down your body. He pulled your body all the way back up, keeping your legs spread as he let go of your hair, hand-cupping your face, squeezing your cheeks as he began pressing his lips against your face, tasting your salty tears.

“Zeke,” you pleaded as he released your face.

With no other warning, you squealed as you were suddenly hoisted into the air, Zeke’s large hands sliding right underneath your thighs. He held you up by the backs of your knees before continuing to slam hiscock into you. His sudden actions awakened something in you, letting out a sudden shout as you convulsed in his arms. Your hands scrambled, reaching for something to hold onto you as he pounded into you once again.

“Squeezing around me like that,” he murmured in your ear, his deep voice causing you to shudder.

“Open your eyes, look at yourself in the mirror.”

Slowly, you pried your eyes open as best as you could, blinking away the tears before gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your robe had come fully undone, revealing your breasts bouncing every movement Zeke made within you.

“God,” he said as he looked at how debauched you were, how in so few months he easily wrecked you from the inside out.

“Who do you belong to?” He groaned in your ear next, feeling your pussy tensing and spasming around him.

You opened your mouth but were barely able to answer as your mind succumbed to pleasure, but Zeke was having none of it. You could feel his nails dig into your skin as he spoke again.

“Answer my fucking question, slut, who do you belong to?”

“You!” you struggled to get out, but once you did, it was loud, bouncing against the walls.

He chuckled, his pace becoming sporadic in nature as he continued to speak, talking you through what would be your inevitable orgasm.

“Yeah , you belong to me? What about your little husband, huh?” he breathed out, huffing as he began to reach his own limit.

“Mmmh fuck I don’t care about him, fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come, please, please let me come…” you sobbed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as rock-solid pressure began to build within you.

He only smirked, “come for me.”

With that, you let out a loud cry, body jerking in his hold as convulsions took hold of you. You squirted all over the two of you, juices spread all over your inner thighs as well. With a final grunt, he followed right after you, easily pulling out of you, cum easily staining your inner thighs as well, getting on his lower abdomen as well.

As Zeke took one last look at you, seeing how to spit drooled down from your plump, wet lips, breathing heavily from the strenuous activity. Slowly he pulled you off his now-soft cock, with ideas to take you to the shower to clean you up once again.

Neither of you hears the door beginning to click open.

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

meeting the parents

roommate eren x f!reader

you swear you know the family sitting next to you at eren’s soccer game, you’re just not sure from where

**find mini-series masterlist here

an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD

previous part linked here

“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.”

You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone.

In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday.

He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked.

After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest.

After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed.

You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt.

But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek.

You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better.

You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey.

“Eren. I can’t wear this.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?”

“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.”

Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure.

“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.”

He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt.

You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday.

The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that.

Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players' strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it.

However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces.

Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player's parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.”

At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.

“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?”

You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand.

“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.”

The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off.

You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you.

“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?”

You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking.

“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents' water bottles too.”

You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing.

As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours.

“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.”

“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.”

“What made you decide to come today?”

“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.”

She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together.

“You’re a sweet girl, really.”

You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor.

You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day.

Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you.

You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game.

“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.”

“Yeah?”

You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes.

“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.”

“You can’t do that anyways.”

You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong.

Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren.

You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused.

“You know them?”

“Do you know them, peaches?”

“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son.

“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.”

He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

“How did you guys know it was her?”

“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.”

The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you.

“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.”

You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now.

You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?

“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.”

“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.

“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.”

The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure.

“I have a feeling he only does that for you.”

You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them.

You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing.

“No grandchildren till after graduation.”

“Mom.”

“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.”

Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.

“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.”

Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle.

Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.”

Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm.

“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.”

“She offered to pay, didn’t she?”

They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so...you sometimes, it hurt him.

Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again.

“Need something, Ren?”

“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.”

He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more.

Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you.

You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.”

But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it.

next part linked here

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rubywithecat · 1 year

Text

When you forgot to reply them (AoT boys)

Eren- would instantly phone you and ask why you left him on read. He would be so mad.

Armin- would double text you an hour later checking if you are okay or busy.

Levi- he would be the one who forgets to reply. Jk jk! If you forgets to reply him he would just assume you are not free and won’t bother until you call him back.

Jean- would spam texts until you reply T-T

Reiner- would be overthinking that you don’t love him anymore and being silent the whole day unless you ask him why and explain.

Porco- would convince himself he doesn’t care but he would be always checking out every noti wondering you texted him back. But when you replied only like 3 hours later, he will do revenge back like not reading it but actually really want to talk with you.

Zeke- would go ask your bestfriend what you are doing and start to stalk your social media if you are out with other boys or if you are actually busy.

Erwin- would send you long letter from email to make you notice his texts.

——

Hey guys so I’m back after very very long break! I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you <3 Likes and shares would be so much appreciated ^^” and follow me for more!

——

(Requests are open back<3)

——

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mommypieck · 1 year

Note

what about zeke and his virgin gf

༺ ♱ ༻ what happens after dinner?

✿ zeke jeager

✿ smut

you can't help but to think about how he always tiptoes around you. you know that zeke is far more experienced than you and it's a miracle he started something with a virgin like you.

your hand find it's way on his thigh.

"thank you for the date." you say with a smile, looking at him while your hand draws circles on his thigh. zeke's breath hitches when he notes that your hand is too close to his aching cock. he's already hard from the night and he's glad that you haven't noticed the hungry looks he's been giving you throughout the night. you carefully put your hand over his cock, stroking it softly to show him you're really glad for the night. his hand slips from the steering wheel as he grips your own.

"what are you doing?" he says and you can feel the panic in his voice. you look up atbhim innocently, batting your eyelashes and smiling, "nothing. i just want to make you feel good."

he chuckles lowly, "wait until we get home, sweetheart. i don't want to make you cum on the backseat yet."

the rest of the rides feel unnecessary long, both of you notice that.

he picks you up as soon as you exit his car, carrying you to the bedroom. you blush at the tenderness he treats you with. he lowers you on the bed before crawling on top of you, kissing you deeply. you have make out before but this time it feels more intimate, now that you're both needy for each other.

"can i take this off?" he whispers against your lips and you can't help but to obligate. he starts unbuttoning your dress shirt carefully, button after button. involuntary, he let's out a low moan when he comes in sight with your lacy bra. he kisses down your body, ignoring the need to peel of your underwear off your body. after few minutes, he can't resist thr urge anymore and he rips off your bra off your body.

"oh fuck jesus." he groans when his gaze lands on your breasts. he hesitates for a moment, looking down at your sprawled out body. he knows he can keep going when he sees your pleasured face. he latches his mouth onto your breast, sucking and pinching your nipples. your back arches of the bed as you pull hard on his hair, making him moan against your chest. he pulls out after a moment to admire his artwork. your body is covered in red bruises and zeke can't get enough of that sight.

he spreads your legs and chuckles when you try to close them with him in between them.

"i didn't know you wanted me in between your legs that much." he says, holding your legs open. you let out a tiny "sorry" before hesitantly opening them again. his fingers graze your underwear, smiling when he sees a tiny wet spot at your crotch. you wiggle at his touch, your hands coming to cup his arms that hold you open.

"i know. i know." he murmurs before slipping your panties off. he thinks he might melt at thr sight in front of him.

"my my so wet." he chuckles, fingers caressing your folds.

"im so glad, im your first." he says as he licks a long stripe from your clit to your opening. you grip his hair at the stimulation, encouraging him to continue. his tongue plays miracles on your clit, abusing the little bud and making you squeal. you let out a small yelp when his fingers prob at your entrance. you're wet enough so can easily slide one finger in. the stimulation is new to your, not having ever fingered yourself. it doesn't feel bad, just strange. soon another finger joins the first and he thrusts them hard and fast in and out. you almost feel ashamed at yourself for the moans you let out. his fingers speed out and soon you're cumming all over his palm. your body spams, orgasm completely overtaking your body.

"im gonna put it in now." he says and you notice that he'd already undressed himself while you were in ecstasy. his cock stands proud in between his legs and you have to bite your lip, not knowing if it's gonna fit. he catches your expression, "don't worry, it's gonna fit. im gonna make it fit."

you open your legs a bit more so he can position himself in between them.

"is it gonna hurt?" you ask when you feel him press at your opening. he smiles down at you, "with how wet you are? probably not."

he presses into you and you can't help but to wince in pain. he shushes you with a kiss before pressing harder. soon he's balls deep into your cunt. he gives you some time to get used to him before slowly thrusting. his thrusts are gentle and he's testing waters, noting what you like. after some time, you become inpatient as you try to fuck yourself on his cock. he chuckles at your effort, thrusting harder this time. soon his thrusts become fast and hard, making your whole body move on the bed. the only sounds that can be heard are your moans and skin slapping against skin.

"im close." you whine when his thrusts focus on the special spot inside of you.

"me too." he groans, thrusting deeper. you cum with a loud moan, coating with cock with your juices. he comes seconds later, shooting right inside of you.

you two lay in silence before he turns over to kiss you on the lips.

"so how was it?" he asks with a sly smile. you blush at his question, "could been better."

#aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan #snk #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x female reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke jeager x reader #zeke jeager smut #zeke jaeger #zeke x reader #zeke yeager #zeke jeager x y/n #zeke jeager #zeke jeager x you

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justanobodywriter · 2 years

Text

Mirror Sex

Zeke Yeager

Cw: gender neutral reader (penetration but non specific body parts used), mirror sex, soft dom/sub dynamics, use of pet and kitten, orgasm for both, no protection, let me know if I missed any

~500 words

Zeke loves watching himself fuck into you over and over again. He loves the look that you get when you look up and see your pretty self getting fucked.

He puts mirrors up on the ceiling, walls, doors, wherever he feels the need to. He wants to be able to watch you from any angle he can. He wants you to be able to watch yourself from every angle with him.

"Just like that, love," he cooed. "Look at how well you're taking me. Such a pretty sight, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but let out little whimpers. Seeing yourself be rammed into, along with Zeke's soft words had you reeling. All you wanted was to let go, but you knew better.

"Such a pretty little pet," he continued. "Tell me what it is you want."

"C-cum, please," you managed out.

He shook his head, "Kitten, you know better than that. You have to use your words."

"Please, I nee-need to cu-cum," you finally got out through hiccups and whimpers.

He chuckled, "Not yet. I don't think you've earned it."

You pressed yourself against his each thrust. He let out a groan at your sudden assistance in him fucking you dumb.

"That's it," he chuckled out.

With each thrust, you both were moving your hips, watching your each move.

"Don't you love how you look when I fuck you, love?" he asked, gripping your head and forcing it forward to look at yourself.

His piercing eyes gazed back at you with such love and lust. You forced yourself to look at your own reflection. Your fucked out expression with his gaze being too much. You pushed yourself over the edge.

"That's right, you earned it," he grunted, only going faster.

You rode out your own orgasm, slumping forward slightly. He held you up until he found his own release only a minute or two later, and who could blame him with how you clenched around him so wonderfully.

He lifted your legs spreading your now full hole to the mirror, "Look at that, kitten. Isn't that a sight to see?"

You moaned again, forcing yourself to look at your dripping hole.

"Think you can take some more?" he asked, chuckling at your expression as the words left his lips. "So eager to please, aren't you, pet. Ok, I can give you some more."

And just like that he was back inside of you, thrusting his own seed deeper inside of you, trying to give you more of what you and he both wanted.

#zeke yeager imagine #zeke yeager smut #zeke yeager x you #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke x you #zeke x y/n #zeke smut #zeke imagine #zeke drabble #zeke yeager drabble #zeke jeager x reader #zeke jaeger smut #zeke jaeger x you #zeke jaeger x reader #aot x reader smut #aot x y/n #aot x reader #zeke x reader

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lostinwildflowers · 2 years

Text

x. Claimed and Free

Summary: It's finally time to saddle up and go home, to the one who has truly claimed your heart. What will Porco do when he sees you after all this time, and what will he do when he learns your secret?

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: A small teeny tiny bit of angst (NOTHING LIKE EARLIER CHAPTERS THO), fluff, fluff, and uhm, more fluff, a bit of a heated make-out session... yeah I got carried away... other than that, no!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! I am SO sorry it took so long to get this final chapter out. TRULY! Life was crazy and I just wasn't in the headspace to write. I hope you like and enjoy this final chapter!! -Birch<3

Masterlist

Previous: The Pendant

There is a light spring to your step as you make your way to the stables. It was a path you had taken many times, but with the shakiness and nerves out of your system from the end of your’s and Zeke’s… relationship, you couldn’t help but be excited.

You couldn’t wait to see Porco’s handsome face, it had been so long since you last laid eyes on him that you couldn’t stand to wait another second.

Mikasa and Armin were already at the stables and had tacked up your horse with the few belongings you had gathered. They were chatting freely as you approached, but immediately stopped and bowed when they saw you in front of them.

You shake your head with a soft chuckle, reaching your hand out, and you say, “There is no need for that, Armin, Mikasa. I am no princess, I am simply a lady who wishes to return to her love.”

My love. My dear Porco. The realization of heading home was setting in, and you rush over to your horse, giving her a pat on the neck, and then you clamber into your saddle. Mikasa and Armin rush to help you, but you brush them off of you and wait for them to get on their own mounts.

As the two guards get onto their horses, a familiar head of long brown hair appears, and you are soon greeted with sharp green eyes. Eren gives you a smile, rubbing your horse's face with a quiet question of, “Are you ready to be free again?”

You give Eren a nod as tears fill the edges of your eyes and you say, “Thank you, Eren. I couldn’t have found the courage for this myself.”

He just rolls his eyes and pats you on the leg, “I was simply an aid, Y/n. Go find your blacksmith, and enjoy the peace away from here for me, alright?”

At that, Eren turns to Armin and Mikasa, who were waiting just a few steps ahead of you. Eren says a few brief words to them, and then slips into the stables without another word.

Armin offers you a bright smile and asks, “Are you ready to go home, Y/n?”

To answer him, you push your horse off into a quick lope, a smile spreading across your lips as you settle into the familiar saddle, setting off across the draw bridge and toward the mountains and fields.

The air is cool, even for late afternoon, and it just barely stings your cheeks as the wind tugs at your hair and clothes. You can hear Mikasa and Armin’s horses just behind your own, but you focus in on your own horse’s hooves instead.

Fall was just starting to arrive, the leaves just barely tinged orange and yellow, while the grasses alongside the dirt road were browning and drying out. The creek was still crackling and babbling as you loped alongside of it, and joy bloomed in your chest at the freedom you now felt.

You were nervous to see Porco. What would he think of you? Would he believe the circumstances? Would he think you were impure? Did he even want you back?

While the negative thoughts nagged at your mind, the fresh air kept your body cool and calm. You were pretty much on autopilot, the twists and turns of every road and bridge familiar to you.

Houses and farms whipped by you, every second and minute drawing you nearer and nearer to the place you called home. All it would take is just one more rise, one more turn in the road and you would be with him.

Your (colored) eyes lock in, all of your surroundings muted as you focus on the white-colored farmhouse you came to love. As you approach, you can see a head of brown hair outside, the figure of a boy you had known almost your whole life.

You knew that had to be Marcel, and if Marcel was near, so was Porco.

Fumbling hands on your reins pull your horse into a wobbly stop, and you swing your leg out of your saddle as fast as you can. Your feet hit the ground and you falter for just a second, your eyes blurry from tears from the wind, emotion, or something else.

You just manage to catch glimpse of Marcel’s figure disappearing into the forge, and your heart starts hammering in your chest. Your attention is broken by the sound of Armin’s and Mikasa’s voices steadying their horses.

When you turn to face them, they each give you a reassuring nod, ones that give you a comfort you didn’t know you needed at that moment.

The voices inside the forge mouth get louder, and your hands fiddle with your reins as you try to quickly fix your stray hairs, rumpled skirts, and watery eyes. A second later, Marcel appears, and he walks right up to you, a grin on his face.

He embraces you gently, and slides his hands onto the reins of your horse, gently pushing you toward the mouth of the forge you had practically grown up inside. You give him a grateful smile and squeeze his shoulder gently as you turn away from him.

You take a deep breath before crossing the threshold into the forge, the heat from inside swirling into your face and warming up your wind-bitten cheeks. Your cloak is wrapped around your shoulders and waist, but you want nothing more than to tear it off.

Nothing could make you burn up more than the sight of a blonde head bent over a pail of water though, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You slowly unclasp the button holding your cloak onto your shoulders, letting it drift off and onto the soft dirt floor.

The air from the cloak hitting the ground rushes toward the fires of the blacksmith, making the flames spit and crackle with new fuel. The blonde glances toward the flames, but doesn’t turn around.

He didn’t realize it was you standing behind him.

You can’t help the tears that rush out of your eyes and down your cheeks, falling gently to the ground. He looked… the same.

The man in front of you was still your Porco; broad-shouldered, rough-handed, slicked back but messy haired, and hard-working. You loved and admired how much effort he put into his work, how much he had put into the pieces he had given you.

The pendant.

Your hand instinctively reaches up to your collarbones, feeling for the “P” shaped pendant. You had put it on while walking to the stables, and now, it would be a sign to Porco that you were back, and you were his.

He still hadn’t noticed you, fiddling with what could only be a project for a client. You shuffle forward quietly, entering the forge room, but not close enough to be within arm’s reach of your lover.

“I- I’m home,” you whisper as your voice breaks and catches, a deep sigh getting caught between your lips as you nibble on your bottom lip. You see Porco instantly still, his body frozen like a piece of glass art set out to cool.

A second goes by, then two seconds go by, and you almost think he didn’t hear you. But then his head slowly turns over his shoulder, and in another moment, his hazel eyes are locked onto your own. And they widen.

Porco whips around, his body turning to face you, his hands dropping the cooled metal he had been working with to the ground. His mouth drops, shock covering his features as he stares at you, taking all of you in.

You only notice the glimmer of tears on the side of his cheek when the light of a stray flame catches it, and you realize it’s okay. He missed you. He wants you.

It is still in the forge. The flames dance in the corner of the room, as well as the few scattered candles on the edges, but it is still.

You can feel your heart thump in your chest, banging against your ribcage like a bird who couldn’t get free to fly. Porco’s heart beat in his chest, his nerves and awe overtaking his mind, his only thoughts on you.

He takes a single step forward, his right hand coming to brush a tear off of his cheek. Then he stills, his left hand coming up to cover his mouth before running through his hair, pushing the golden locks out of his face.

You take a single step forward, your hand tightening around the pendant, your feet maneuvering around your fallen cape. Your other hand comes up, tucking a lone piece of hair behind your ear anxiously.

You both take a step forward at the same time, bringing you just a foot away from him, your chin having to tilt up slightly to look at him.

Porco doesn’t dare touch you, he doesn’t even move. He just blinks softly while letting his hazel eyes run all over your frame, taking you in after all of the months apart.

You were as gorgeous as the day he turned you away, full of shame and fear. You looked as kind and loving as you did the day you went out on your last ride in the forest together.

You… were back. In front of him, living, breathing, hoping… wishing.

Porco’s eyes drift from your wind-blown hair to the soft curve of your cheeks. They rake over the beautiful shades of your eyes, and linger on the lip caught between your teeth. His eyes wander across your collarbones and to your stomach and hips.

If anyone were to see the way he looked at you, they would have had many words to say about it. He was looking at you disrespectfully, longingly, wantingly. Porco was looking at you like the woman he knew you to be, the woman he had wrapped up in his sheets before you were whisked off to the castle.

Porco looked at you like a man starved. And he didn’t care.

As shifty as his eyes were, they lock on to one part of you that seemed different. Porco’s eyes settle onto the curve of your stomach. It wasn’t the same, it was… fuller, somehow. His eyes stay there for a second, and a new wave of butterflies overcome you as you see the recognition in his gaze.

Porco sharply glances up at you, a sudden fear in his eyes as his shocked and wanting expression turns into one of pain and anguish.

“Don’t tell me you’re-” his voice cracks harshly and he can’t finish his sentence. He clears his throat, blinking back watery eyes, and whispers, “Don’t tell me you’re having that prince’s son. Tell me you aren’t.”

You reach out, taking one step forward to close the distance between you and your lover, but Porco opens it again by taking a step away from you. You can feel your heart crack at that moment, flashbacks from months before flooding your head.

But you shake your head through the tears and stutter, “I- I’m not. I’m free, Pock.” The nickname rolls off of your tongue before you can stop it, and you blurt out, “He’s yours!”

The world stops again at that moment. A tool that was resting on the bench behind Porco is brushed by his hand, and it hits the ground with a bang, clanging against the pail of water. But it doesn’t distract him, and it doesn’t distract you.

It’s silent, and once again, the flames crackle and sing, but Porco’s soft question comes out louder yet.

“He’s… what?” The question is simple, especially coming from Porco, and you can’t stop the small huff that leaves your lips, and you playfully roll your eyes and dab at the cooled tears on your cheeks.

You sigh with a smile and repeat, “He’s yours, Porco. He’s always been yours.” And in a swooping stride, Porco regains the distance he had put between you.

His soot-covered hands grasp your face so gently, but firmly at the same time and he whispers, “Say it again.”

You laugh and sniffle as you watch a smile creep onto Porco’s face, and you say, “He’s your son, Porco. We are having a son. I, I am free. We are free.”

Porco lets the toothy smile spread across his face, and his eyes dart across yours, and then down to the shiny piece of metal resting on your chest. His pendant.

He doesn’t let another second pass, and he crashes his lips against your own, nose banging against yours, teeth clashing together. A squeak leaves your mouth at the intensity of his kiss, but you return the ferocity, tilting your head in the way you were so accustomed to.

Porco’s ashen hands grasp your face, smearing soot and grey dust all across your cheeks, but you don’t care. His right hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers becoming entangled in the hair there, pulling you closer and closer.

His left hand drops from your face, sliding down your back and to your loosely corseted waist. His hand rubs softly at your side before his fingers find their home on your hip bone, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

A soft gasp falls from your lips as one of your hands reaches for the back of Porco’s head, your lithe fingers threading through his thick locks of blonde hair. Your free hand comes to rest on Porco’s chest, right above his heart.

Porco pushes you toward the wall by the threshold, and in between the passionate kisses and grasps, he pins you against the wall with his hips. His hungry lips have yet to leave your own, his mouth constantly reaching for yours.

You let him have his way with you, let him hold you the way he needed to after all these months. You had wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of your lover, and here you were.

You let your tongue peek past your bottom lip, swiping gently against Porco’s, and he groans quietly into your mouth. You hum in response, tilting your head slightly as you do it again, and this time, Porco reciprocates.

The kiss is deep and passionate as the two of you fight for dominance, for the right to show who missed and loves each other more. The nose-bumping and teeth clashing do slow down though, and you are left with a tender kiss that could sweep you off of your feet.

You can feel Porco tug you close one last time before he lets his lips part from yours, his mouth hanging open and out of breath from the heated kiss. You are about the same as him, lips pink and bruised from the harsh kiss, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Porco rests his forehead against your own, and with half-lidded eyes, you can see a lone tear streaming down his ash-covered cheeks. You reach up, your fingers gently swiping the tear and dirt away.

You leave your hands resting on his slightly stubbly chin as you gaze deep into his hazel eyes. The eyes you grew up with and fell in love with.

Porco’s hand that had rested behind your head moves to rest on your stomach, his eyes still wide with awe and wonder at the idea of you having your own shared child.

He does regain eye contact with you, and with the fire singing in the background, he states, “Marry me.”

There isn’t even a beat of hesitation when you reply, “I will. Whenever you want. You’ve always had my heart and my body, Porco. I love you.”

Porco smiles and slightly pulls away, giving you room to breathe in the campfire-esque air from the forge room.

He chuckles as he shakes his head side to side and says, “No. I love you. Every day without you was torture, my love. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I need to know that you will be mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

You slowly lean back into him and letting your lips brush against his, you whisper, “I will be yours, Porco Galliard. You’ve laid claim to my heart since we were children. I am yours as much as you are mine.”

And at that, Porco brushes his lips against yours again, slower and softer this time. This kiss told you that there would be nothing but time for each other, and for your new family for the rest of your lives.

-The End-

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adalz · 1 year

Text

Lacrymosa - part 5

pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader (mention of Angel!Levi x Angel!Reader)

chapter warnings: /!\ very angsty/violent chapter / a lot of violence and blood, use of gun, mention of wounds, witchhunt, minor/ major character death (i'm so sorry) / sacrilege tw, you know the drill.

world count: 7.3k

a/n: Hi! I started writing this chapter forever ago. I had to work back and forth on it. most of it was written in one fell swoop. Kind of long getting in, but once you're n it. You’re in it. So much chaos.

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In the distance, far, so far away. A memory.

Like an echo lost in a mountain gorge, twirling above the valley.

Throbbing with life, it was so volatile it stuck to your skin, carried by an exhilarating feeling of momentum.

A memory wafted by the frosty winter wind, and your great wings glided on the updrafts of the sky.

There were landscapes, thousands of them, gone in a blink of an eye as the wind flew through your body like a vital force, eyelids heavy, face slapped by the sky. And suddenly, in the distance, tearing the pale horizon, the shape of a mountain. There, underneath your body, miles and miles of plains went by with the seconds.

The secret whispers of the wind were loud in your ears, the tugging of the tense muscles of your wings hard and sharp. They were outstretched, strong - striking the air. And so, like an unexpected change of balance, your body stretched, reaching higher, towards the snowy peaks - beyond the rocks and the stone paths once used by Mankind.

It was such a strange memory, indistinct, lost in time. Something was odd - leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The feeling of a captive bird, finally freeing itself from its golden cage, discovering the vast reality of a too voracious sky.

On your skin, thousands of sea spray stained your face, carried by the wind. There, there, beyond those stone walls, the scent of salt, the smell of the coast beaten by the winds and the tide - the ocean.

In this memory's rush, beyond the mist of the mountains, it finally appeared. There was the ocean, the ricochets of the infinite stretches of water. The softest sapphire reflections. The senseless call of the waves, heady.

Your muscles finally relaxed in your back, and your body gave in to gravity.

I could have fallen in the middle of the ocean and my body would have slowly sunk to the bottomless abyss.

The adrenaline of the fall, controlled and delightful, made your heartbeat hard in your chest. As your body was about to slide into the water, your wings flared open - almost sliding on the opaline surface.

Fingers dived into the icy water, barely skimming the lace of foam on its surface, but the hard speed scraped them across the waves. Consumed by this unrealistic, almost painful coldness, you quickly withdrew your hand. And then with a dull, powerful wingbeat, shattering the air and the waters all around you, you plunged back towards the sky.

Sovereign of heavens, lost in their immensity, brushing the captive snowflakes in the clouds charged with electricity - it was an insatiable memory, tugging at your heart.

But something was wrong. Like an out of tune instrument in a delicate orchestra.

Because this could never have happened.

You should have known this land. You should have remembered it.

That thrilling memory, buried deep inside you. As beautiful as it was - it all sounded wrong.

Invented.

Fabricated.

Because never before had you dived into the blue Surface's sky.

Because as far as you could remember, there had always been nothing but horrible memories, attached to nothing but fear.

Because all you could really remember was the oceans infused with the color of blood. Mountains spat fire, and the curse of the Goddess had fallen upon Her creation.

Because you had no real memory of that life you once lived, and only that senseless and uncontrollable fear had haunted you, for eternity, on the ground of Paradis. Held so close to the Goddess, She alone had let those fears grow within you. Only She had known the skies of the Surface of yesteryear.

Because the Goddess had taken everything from all of you, at the cost of wings too big to ever fly.

Those wings in your back were the very mark of a peace you had never known. Because your first memories were painful with nothing but death and destruction.

Because you, the children of Ymir, were then blessed with wings so large and so powerful that no mortal weapon could ever touch you.

Yet, all it took to make you fall was an arrow.

There, deep within your flesh, stealing the air from your lungs. Offering you back to these lands.

Far from the vast horizon and the ocean spray, you had learned to fly in a cage.

Prisoner of a tortured sleep, of marble halls too white, you had never known the blue sky and the seas with their silver reflections. Never had you known anything but destruction, death, and the deafening sound of eternity. You were a mere child, endowed with sacred powers. And nothing but the shades of death on Her lands had survived in your mind.

All of a sudden, in this too pristine memory, the sky was upside down. The taste of a blood too old flooded in your mouth. Its once scarlet color, dried and blackened by the intense light of the sun, blinded the whole world around you.

Nothing had prepared you to fall. No one ever taught you how to fly.

An eternity spent wandering around the ground of Paradis, and you waited for it to be over. You thought, there was a purpose. That it mattered. You thought there was sense.

How come no one ever told you?

That death and destruction were to be endless. And that their perpetrator was of sacred blood.

That Levi was an angel of death.

Senseless world. Nothing but fear, crawling, instilling inside your veins. Alone in this infinite sky, endlessly falling

And slowly, everything started to distort. This lie slowly evaporated. You blinked. The world was dark.

Thousands of voices fell silent in the night.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A breath

and reality slowly returned.

The beating of your own heart came to settle on the regular rhythm of rain hitting against the window. You could hear water drip against the half-opened window

Sweat was sliding down your neck, your body still sore from sleep.

You woke up, and it was dark in the room.

You woke up with the feeling that your body was heavy, arms dead. Your wings tighter than ever against you. Suffocating.

The touch of a hand came. There, resting against your chest. Five cool fingers, as if measuring the crazy rhythm of your heart. Your pillow collapsed a little as you turned your face in his direction.

His head was resting against his arm, you could barely make out his features. Barely, the line of his neck. The curve of his chest. The delicate lines of his stomach and of his hips. Only, in the darkness of the night, the reflection of his eyes was on you.

This blue so familiar, full of sleep, was observing you.

He made a movement, and the sheets slightly slid off your naked bodies. His fingers gently came up to your forehead in a delicate caress.

He murmured something, but the meaning of his words was lost in the low tone of his voice. Against your burning forehead, cool lips came to place a gentle kiss.

Oddly, knowing that he was awake at the same time as you, in the middle of the night, was appeasing. For he kept finding you, no matter where you were, and every single time, you were reborn under his fingers.

Then, you let your body slide in the sheets, thirsty for his cool touch. Dying to drown in his embrace. His arms tightly closed around you.

Your nose against his skin, already overwhelmed by his touch, you thought about everything you had taken away from him. Everything he had given up. How you had turned his world upside down. This selfishness, which made you want his arms and his mind only to you. Him, already devoted to the Goddess. Him and his words and his outdated beliefs. Him and his faded world. Him and his gentle words.

Where She had abandoned you, he had given you everything. And you would burn forever in the flames of the Surface for refusing to love him.

It was so dark, and your world was in his arms. Safe. He had found you.

You woke up and the room was blood red. The sun was rising. Your wings spread behind you, feathers caressing your skin and your arm around Zeke, pulling him tight. You couldn't remember ever being so warm. Yet, there, on the tip of your fingers, you could have sworn you still felt the coldness of the sea.

You woke up and the room was bathed in yellow. His breath was steady and even. In his hair, the sun's rays were dancing. Beyond the window, beyond the rain clouds, the morning had blossomed.

In a loud whisper, your body suddenly remembered the kisses of the night before, the frantic dance of love on your hips. There was a forbidden taste in your mouth. A bitter taste of success.

Gently, you extirpated your body out of his arms, carefully slipping towards the edge of the bed. Immobile in the silence, you sat there a long moment.

Shaking away the sleep, you bent your back while stretching and your wings opened painlessly.

Painlessly, you thought. Strong and steady.

You grabbed the holed shirt that had been discarded on the floor, and walked out of the room, trying not to think about it. Of this silent promise of having to leave, eventually.

As you went down the stairs, you let your wings slightly flutter, your body so light by the force of the air lifted by the working muscles. As if walking on water, your feet met the cold kitchen floor in an instant.

The muscles of your thighs suddenly woke up, warmed up by a soft pain, alive with a song that words did not come back to you, drowsy in a heady desire.

In silence, you started making tea in the old kitchen. Soon, the sound of water ricocheted in the kettle, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander as you absent-mindedly looked outside the small paned window. From there, you could see the wrought-iron gate, a few trees in the woods and the path going downhill. The birds were already chirping in the forest.

From the cupboard, you grabbed one of the cylindrical metal boxes, on which was written in large calligraphic letters “Reeves Trading Company”. A sweet smell wafted up to you as you opened it. It was aroma of dried leaves, with the scent of fruit and vanilla. You brought the box to your nose, taking a breath in its stunted and dry flowers, once so brightly colored, and the green of the leaves were now dark and sad. In these dried flowers of winter colors, there were buds. With a spoon, you dipped into the tea leaves, taking only a small amount, and putting it in the teapot.

Warm hands slid over your stomach.

“Aren’t you cold?” said his sleepy voice.

Against your skin, ten fingers were now burning, his skin so warm, and you sighed with ease. From the wood-burning stove, the kettle whistled.

In turn, you let your hands explore his forearms. He started nibbling your shoulder. Tenderly - the base of your neck, and then the nape. You felt his teeth slightly sink into your skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," you chuckled as you turned in his arm to face him.

The moment your eyes met, he unleashed the most devastating smile.

He was beautiful, his flaxen hair tousled from the night, eyes shining with that confidence he would always wear so well. His chest was bare, and his arms all around you.

The thought that he would regret what happened the night before had crossed your mind at some point, but he didn't seem to feel remotely guilty.

"I made some tea," you said again, staring into the blue of his eyes. Behind his glasses, they were heavy-lidded, still puffy from the lack of sleep. They were sharp, focused. Wrinkled from a smile, taking the shape of pure delight on his face. Every look, every caress of the pad of his fingers, on the edge to make you lose your mind all over again.

"Thank you, angel," and his eyes went down to your lips.

His arms tightened against you, and in a sighing breath, he whispered, "You're so cold…"

“I’m fine…” you said, and it was nothing but a whisper. His eyes went back to your face.

“Are you sure?”

Reaching out to his face, your hands cupped his cheeks. He let himself go, his face slightly huddling against your palms.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I’m fine.”

His lashes were long behind his glasses, eyes closed, savoring this moment. His eyes remained closed as he took a deep breath in.

Yet, he said nothing.

"Let's drink this tea before it gets cold," you finally said, and his eyes opened. He nodded.

And the tea was poured. It abundantly flowed in the old, chipped cups, letting out its sweet and fruity aroma, while the steam drew delicate arabesques into the air.

Ephemeral vapor, so fragile - and you remembered thinking;

"I wish I had lived this life."

Forever, in this old isolated house. Dancing in his arms while the rain was drenching the outside world. Having his hands skim over you as your body trembled with pain and pleasure, for eternity. Having him.

You remembered saying to yourself;

"Long may it last."

As long as life would allow you to.

“I hope that time will let me keep him a little longer.”

How you would have liked to stay with him, to dress his wounds. Those that you could not see, which nevertheless, there, under his skin, still burned him with a great ardor. Those that, so deeply, had killed him, slowly. How you would have loved to watch him grow old and grow old with him. And perhaps your skin, under the influence of the curse of the Surface, would have wrinkled with the rhythm of years passing by, entangling the minutes and the hours with this love so tender that consumed you. As if the opportunity to die with him offered a new perspective to your life. A meaning, eventually.

Silently, in this very moment, you made a decision. Because that was your choice to make. It was the path you chose. Beyond the expectation and the duties imposed on you, a long time ago. Far from the waiting and the eternity. It was your choice. Entirely yours.

You would have loved, loved it. So much.

But the tea was poured, for the last time.

There was so much of it that it spilled out of the cups, dripping onto the floor.

Zeke burned his tongue as he took the first sip.

The hot liquid overflowed a little more. The cup slipped from his hands.

And then there, those last moments of innocence, they could have been frozen in eternity. And the cup, as if suspended mid-air, was about to hit the cold ground.

What was heard instead was a shrill scream in the distance.

It lasted a split second. Zeke's face snapped; his head already turned towards the scream. Slipping through your fingers. The light in his eyes, suddenly dull.

He tore himself away from you.

And the cup shattered on the floor.

You barely had the time to recognize Colt's voice that, Zeke was already running through the door. And before your legs could even begin to run after him, another sound ripped the air.

Something you’d never heard before. Nothing like thunder. Louder. Closer - a deafening sound. Dry. Deadly.

It resounded, with indescribable violence. Shattering all balance in this world. Your whole body jolted, hands tights against your ears, in an unconscious protective movement

Then came silence. A few seconds of it. Enough to breathe again.

And in its horrible hissing, you finally heard a burst of voices - Colt's again. He was calling Zeke. He sounded terrorized. He was probably crying - out of breath.

A voice echoed.

A hoarse voice, falsely delicate.

You heard Zeke say, 'Get inside, son’ and the sound of footsteps in the gravel outside. But the voice said to stay still. The footsteps stopped immediately.

It said, "Don't move."

It said, "Or I'll shoot you."

And you were there, standing still in the kitchen, unable to move, feet wet from the burning water on the floor. You let your body take a step towards the window.

Behind the small panes, someone was standing in the garden. They were tall, far too tall. Menacing, with their arm stretched out. Behind them, other figures in the distance. They were not moving either, immobile. Among them, torches were burning.

Horror struck you at the sight of all these people - walking on this haven of peace. Those who were never supposed to see you, those who had once spilled the blood of the Goddess in Her own halls.

But through the opaque panes, you could only see her. The dark blond hair running alongside her face. It was the darkness of her clothes that drew your attention to the shiny object in her hand.

Witnessing the horror unfolding before your eyes, you realized the origin of the detonation.

In your mouth, the terrible taste of the arrow that had pierced your throat. The memories of the pain, the blood. So much blood. Only this time you imagined the wound to be deadlier, a pain that matched the horrible smell of gunpowder and fire that overwhelmed your senses.

Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, the worst things went through your mind. Colt and the blood beating feverishly in his body. The life in his fragile body. Was he hurt? Had she used the weapon on him, in his back, as he ran, calling for Zeke with all his lungs? Was he alive?

Violently boiling in your veins, all you could see, all you could imagine was blood. You straightened up abruptly. The woman's face suddenly turned towards the window. Towards you.

Before you could make a move, Zeke's voice echoed again from outside.

"Put the gun down. If you want to talk, talk to me."

"I've been trying to talk to you for weeks, Father," the woman said. "Only you're not listening."

"Put the gun down, Yelena."

Her face turned back to Zeke's voice.

"Goddess, no! Have no fear, Father Zeke! I could never use it against you!"

"I don't care if you want to use it or not. Drop the damn gun. Now."

"Father, it's all for you that-..."

Then, you heard Colt’s voice - he was alive, thank the Goddess, he was alive -

"Father-"

"Get your ass inside, Colt. Right now."

Her voice, again;

“The boy doesn't move.”

“Let him get inside the house.”

“No.”

“He’s just a boy.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong."

“How am I wrong? He’s fucking seventeen!”

"He's not what you think he is."

“Who is he then? Just talk to me, for Ymir’s sake!”

No words were spoken, for a moment. Only silence, a question left unresolved.

Yet there was no hint of doubt in her voice as she eventually spoke.

Your heart fell into your chest.

"He is a servant of Evil."

He was not. He was not.

This violence - the lies, the weapons. It couldn't be true, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a nightmare.

And all you heard was Zeke. It was him. You were sure of it. It was him - but his voice had lost all gentleness. All the sweet inflections were gone. All you heard in the timber of his voice was pure anger.

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“I know Father. I know. But it’s all right now, we’re here for you. I came for you. I’ll deliver you.”

“Let’s do that then. Fucking deliver me.” It was no plea. It was him. “Just let him get inside the house first.”

"What for? So he can warn the Tempter?"

The Tempter

So they knew there was someone in this house. They came to kill you. They were going to.

“If he gets inside the house, it shall burn with the two of them inside.”

Her face turned again, slowly, towards the opaque window. It was dark inside the house. She couldn't see you.

“What are you-...”

"You don't have to lie anymore, Father. I know what's going on. I know everything. All my doubts are now gone. I knew. I knew almost immediately. That something was off. Oh, Father, I am your most fervent servant, you know that. How could I not see that you disappeared as soon as your sacred duties in town were accomplished? How could I not have seen that you were bothered, lost in your thoughts during your sermons, each week shorter and shorter. You know how dearly I love you, Father Zeke. I love you. I would never tolerate anything happening to you. So I watched you, to understand what was going on. To help you. I followed you."

"You followed me."

"Most nights. When everything was dark, except for the lights inside the house. That’s when I’d see it the most clearly. It was just its shadows at first, and I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I thought it was just you, or the kids, always under your feet. But there was something else, I was sure of it. And I saw it, as clearly as I’m seeing you right now. A thing. Shapeless and deformed. There was something that followed you inside that house. Passing you by, never making you jump. It was as if I was the only one seeing it. I tried to tell you. I tried to warn you. But you never listened. You were always busy. Rushing. Lost in your thoughts. You were not yourself, I could see it, that there was something in your mind. Something coaxing you.”

Through gritted teeth, she added: "And you were never listening to me. So I decided to see for myself. I came here yesterday morning."

“Yesterday morning,” Zeke repeated.

Yesterday morning. As you had left the house at the first light of day. Zeke was still asleep in the chair in his office. Colt, in the armchair by the extinguished fire.

"There's no one in this house, Yelena."

"There was no one there, indeed. But something was off. There was a presence. As if there used to be someone. I could tell by the size of the embers left in the fireplace. By the way blankets had been thrown on all the chairs, by the number of dishes in the sink. By the clothes left on the floor. By their deformed and torn shape. So I started searching. I knew that something had been there. I just had to find it.

I prayed to the Goddess all those nights. For Her to let me know the truth. To let me understand. And it came to me - standing to reason: the only place where a demon could hide, away from our eyes. Where it could grow and regenerate, feeding on our faith and our devotion. Some places we used to worship. Somewhere remote. Somewhere only you know.

I thought I remembered the way to the Old Chapel. But the clearing is much deeper in the forest than I remembered. The paths once used by our fathers are all gone now, devoured by roots and creepers. The trees are so high, blocking out the daylight and it was so dark, so cold. What monster wouldn't make a den out of this.

And finally, after what felt like hours in the mist, right before my eyes - it appeared. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it. That it was real. That I was right!

Wandering around the clearing like a lost bird. That was it - the thing that defiled your house. With its deformed shape. Trying in vain to look human. And I remembered thinking ‘What an outrage to the Goddess’. A terrible thing that we, sinners, should never have to see - withered wings, a being perhaps once divine creature, that is no longer one now that it has been repudiated from the floors of Paradis.

"That's n-"

"Father, things happen for a reason. Its presence here is none other than a punishment. This thing is not a wounded bird. It is a punishment. A test for you. And for me. And I did not feel fear. Well, the truth is, on the contrary, I was relieved. That I was right all along. That I had found the solution. And I knew that I had to make things right. Back to how they were. I had to fix it. When I saw it, at the Chapel Father, I knew I had to kill it. For you.

And so today, we are bringing the fire to you. We’ve come to save you, Father. To purge this house of the evil that has nestled in it.

It’s all happening faster that I intended to; Grice was spying on us as we were talking about how to… take care of this. He ran away before I could stop him. And he ran exactly where I expected him to. Back to the darkness. Like a rogue dog to its master. But don't worry - we will burn it all down. We will purge this place from the darkness. And I am going to fix this.

Starting with this.”

Her silhouette abruptly changes position. Arm still outstretched. Turning around toward the window. Fire shot out of her hand.

It was even louder this time, firing in your eyes. The air shattered, a deafening sound. The glass of the window exploded into a thousand pieces before your face.

You barely had time to bend down.

You didn't scream. You couldn't make a noise.

When your eyes flew open, someone was rushing inside the house. You knew it was Colt, but you wouldn’t have recognized him. His usual gentle face was now covered with terror.

Outside, the world was screaming.

You watched as he ran towards you, as if slowed down by time. As if gravity had changed. His eyes wide with dread, cheeks red and wet from the tears rolling across his face. His feet crushed the broken glass in the water. He was running towards you, for what seemed hours.

A hand stretched out in front of him, to come and get you, and outside, there was death. There was the fire of the torches and the murderous weapons.

Outside, Zeke. Alone.

He grabbed your arm. And time went back on.

He screamed something, and abruptly pulled you from the floor. Before you could stand up, your knees scraped against the sharp pieces of glasses. You pushed on your legs, and started to run.

Colt spoke, yelled something, but words died within the chaos. The only thing anchoring you in the reality of the moment was the cold skin of his hand in yours. There was another one. Another detonation, tearing the uproar of the world, but you already had crossed the room and its large fireplace, jostling the two mismatched armchairs. Colt kicked the small backdoor, onto the backyard.

And Zeke was alone. Outside in this hell.

Out of reach.

In a vain hope, you looked back.

But all you saw was the darkness of her eyes, fixed on you. That silhouette of her, too slender, her legs too big. Behind you, already. There, a few meters away, in that room, pervaded by her deadly aura, by the death in her eyes. Staining those safe floors, thriving on fear, and her eyes, without any light. Fixed, transfixed aiming at one thing. You.

There was no turning back. There was no choice to be made. There never was.

Colt was tightly holding your hand.

Colt shouted ‘run’

And so you ran.

There had been no destination when you had first run through those woods. You had run for your life, or yet you had thought so. Feet thumping hard against the soil of the Surface, a bandage too tight around your throat, breath taken, voice lost. You had fallen and ran again, away, away from the wrong enemy. This time, if they were to catch you, they were going to kill you.

So you ran. As fast as you could.

Colt was holding your hand, and you were holding his. Behind you, people were shouting. Behind you, there was fire.

And the ground was beating hard with each footstep, with each breath, the world on the verge of rumbling right into the chaos, and somewhere, Zeke was all alone.

Zeke was all alone facing those people. People that he knew, people that he saw every day, people that trusted his words, just like you did.

Was it your curse, to watch everything go up in fire? Turning into ashes?

Death and destruction, all because of you.

What if I had fallen in the middle of the ocean and my body had sunk slowly to the bottomless abyss.

“Don’t stop!”

Colt’s arm was stretched, pulling you as he kept on running.

Colt. Sweetest child. Colt and his timid smiles, and his stories and his blushing cheeks. Colt and his secrets, and his little brother he was so proud of. Colt and his training, and the light in his eyes whenever he was looking at Zeke. Colt and the warmth of his hands, and the sharp truth of his words. And his life had been made into a living hell, poor mortal eyes seeing things he should have never seen.

He had gone through those woods as well. Running. Calling for Zeke after walking in his house, the floor covered in your blood. His once innocent childhood, stolen away.

He had run for Zeke, scared that something had happened, probably thinking of the fragility of his own life. This time, he was running for you. And he kept on pulling you, even when you stumbled. He never let go of your hand.

Finally, the edge of the forest appeared from the dense foliage of the woods. Soon, you would reach the clearing, where the two of you would be exposed - easy to aim at and to take down. With nowhere to hide. Soon.

And then what?

Followed almost immediately by yours, Colt’s feet were the first ones to beat the tall grass of the clearing. Here was the great blinding light of the sky, the cold sun of autumn warming up the skins. And at its heart, proudly standing for millennia, was the Temple. Its foundations still holding the walls steady, its colonnades filled with stone. The songs and the prayers that once resounded there, long forgotten by the Goddess.

You imagined that this was Colt’s plan, to run there, hide inside the Temple, and wait. But the truth was, he was just a boy hoping for a miracle. Because you knew that no one would ever come. You knew it had been forgotten for too long. You understood that you were running straight into a deathtrap.

And with each footstep, you were being more and more defenseless. With each footstep, you were turning into an easier prey. With each footstep, you were condemning yourselves.

There was nothing but the beating in your ears. Nothing but the footsteps, the same rhythm, and the same race, again and again and again.

In your back, unstrapped wings were fluttering in the wind. If you would have been sure that you once really knew how to fly, you would have opened them wide. You would have let the autumn wind rush into them and set off. But no one ever taught you how to fly.

If you ever had a semblance of power, if there had been anything you could have done, you would have buried the world right there, under your feet. You would have soared up towards the sky, Colt within your arms, flying away from them, and from their decrepit beliefs. You would have done it. You would have opened the earth, and plunged the forest behind you into the Underworld.

A detonation ripped the morning light. Birds flew away from the trees.

The smell of sulfur, the smell of war all around you.

You knew she was there, behind you, feet in rhyme with yours. She must have been aiming at you, trying to take you down with a shot...

But you were almost there, so close to discern the cracks in the walls. So close that your feet were already crushing the shattered stained glass in the grass. Colt slowed down. His hand slowly loosened.

You glanced back towards him.

His cheeks were wet, his mouth so pale.

"Co-..."

His hand slipped from yours.

And he fell to the ground.

You flung yourself on him. Quickly, grabbing him under his shoulders, trying to lift him up. But his body was heavy, too heavy, drained of energy.

"Run..." he said. And his skin was too pale, too pale.

"No, no, no Colt, I'm not-"

"You’re almost there...”

His voice was too weak. His body, too heavy.

That was when you saw her. On the edge of the woods. She had stopped to take a shot, her stance still.

“I won’t-...”

“I’ll catch up with you later. Please, just go.”

And in the distance the sound of footsteps. She was on the move again, running towards you. And it was as if the earth was shaking with each of her steps.

"Now, you go," he said.

He lifted one of his hands, to remove yours from his body and your hands were so warm against him. Sticky.

Palms towards your face. The morbid colors of life.

Stained. Stained, stained, stained, stained.

Stained with his blood. Stained, this infernal place. Always stained with blood.

You may have screamed. In the quiet of what had been done, you may have screamed. But no words formed on your lips, no sound, except a jerky growl. Except for the anguish, growing, tearing everything in you.

Colt on the ground. His eyes were so fatigued.

He may have been talking. He may have been crying.

But already, all around his body, his life, flowing onto the clearing ground.

You said something, again, you said something. You heard someone promise him, you heard yourself swear. That everything would be okay. That you would fix it. As if there was anything to fix in this world. What was there to fix when everything was already broken. When nothing made sense anymore. When you would have to erase everything to start over.

And it wasn't just a nightmare. That body, these tears. It was Colt, bleeding to death. It was life slipping away from him, unfairly.

He who had so much to say, so much to do. He who had so much life and love.

Alone, in the clearing, while footsteps were getting closer.

She was almost there. In your back, your wings jostled in the wind.

"I’m begging you. Run."

“I’m not leaving you here. Colt, I’m not leaving you here.”

But your voice came out punctuated by violent shaking. Your face twiste; your vision blurred.

Not by himself. Not like this.

"Don't look back," he whispered, "do it-..."

Nearby, voices rose from behind the trees. Her steps became slower, spacing out.

"... -For me."

Standing before you, the woman. And Colt’s head fell heavily onto your lap.

Her pitch black eyes were on you. Emotionless face. With both of her hands, arms lowered, she was holding the gun.

She was looking at the two of you. From him, to you.

Colt, then you.

The lifeless body, and then you.

On her face, a shadow passed.

She immediately aimed at you, regaining her composure. Her body was tense. Yet, she didn’t shoot.

“So this is you,” she said, slowly..

Colt was heavy against you, and everything you touched was sticky and warm, while her hands were immaculate against the bright gun. And you were ready. Ready for the fire. You were ready for her to shoot, whenever she wanted to.

“I understand better now,” she said.

Unconsciously, your fingers skimmed back and forth against the coldest skin, the roundness of a cheek, ever so carefully. Not to break him. Not to disturb the peace. The tips of your fingers were frozen.

“The Evil One really knows how to create temptation,” she said under her breath. She smiled at her own words. She smiled at you, she smiled at the body in your arms.

Something was gradually building inside of you. You felt it, something dark. It grew within you at the exact moment she had started to smile.

Over the treetops, a thick black smoke was rising into the yellow morning, like a dark column rushing to the sky. You could almost see flames licking the horizon. It could only be one thing. And with the smoke going up and up in the sky, the memories of the house. The books and creaking floors. The tea and the music. All of it, gone forever. Fragments of life and lives themselves - reaching for the sky.

So this was your curse. To watch everything go up in fire, turning the world into ashes. At this very moment, you came at peace with it. If they wanted to set everything on fire, you shall let it burn, them within the licks of fire.

Whenever she would move, you were going to kill her.

“I will kill you,” you whispered.

Yet the words reverberated in the clearing, your voice, loud and clear as never before. As if this place had always been yours and the trees were yelling the words you said, all the way back to the ocean. It took no effort to say it. It was recited like a prayer in the night, like a promise. It was delivered with a power, kept silent for too long.

And under the weight of the words, you felt your wings flutter wide behind your back. You felt every single muscle in your body flare up with a deadly fire. With power, ignited at last.

With the tips of your fingers, you carefully closed Colt's eyes. His soft, gentle eyes. Their warm brown color, gone. And when your fingers left his cold skin, they were burning feverishly. They were burning so hot, that the blood on your hands started to emanate oddly.

You looked up at her, and finally, you saw it. What you should have seen from the start. What they should all have felt when they first looked upon you. What you ought to inspire them.

Sheer terror.

This, right here. This was right. This was how it was supposed to be. Always. For Mankind was supposed to crawl and beg forgiveness for its wretched existence. They ought to be horrified and miserable. You were going to make her regret ever being born, only allowing her to beg all the skies and souls for you to end her fast.

Without a glance at the lifeless body on your lap, you laid it back on the ground. Without a shudder, you stood up. And as you did, your wings began to flutter in your back. Fast and hard - the movement smooth, a new strength waking up inside your body.

In your back, you could feel the muscles pulling painfully, straining against you from the force of the beaten air. Like a drop of rain naturally sliding with gravity towards the ground, your body elevated slowly, up towards the sky, feet hovering above the ground.

And what happened next was the most delightful thing - her face distorted with fright, the grin that was there a moment ago, long faded. It was exhilarating; the fear, but most of all, the realization.

She stepped back in panic, her hair flying out of her face under the effect of the powerful air movements, and then back again, brandishing her weapon hopelessly. Her legs buckled - she fell backwards, dropping it somewhere on the ground. And all around you, once pristine feathers were fluttering into the wind.

You heard a distant scream, from the edge of the forest. It snatched your attention away from her. All you could think about was the dark fate unfolding before you, the ill thoughts flooding all senses. And yet, at the sound of his voice, that thing that had been building within you, snapped a little. Zeke was running fast, he was calling your name. His body was covered in blood and bruises, his face distorted by anguish, gentleness and trust lost forever.

But behind him, suddenly emerging from the woods as well, dozens of people, torches and fire in their hands started to march on the clearing. And yet you knew that he was not running for his life. He was running for yours. Always for yours.

But there was nothing to be done. There was no other possible outcome. All of them were doomed. Nothing could ever fix chaos. As it was bound to happen, the best you could offer was to flow along with it. There was no hope.

You watched as Zeke ran through the clearing, and you hated every second of it. You hated to see him run, towards a future made of destruction and death. You hated that he was still hopeful, despite the blood on his face, and the smoke in his lungs. You hated that he was still hoping to save your life. That he was hoping there still was life to save. You watched him run until his eyes fell upon the body lying under your feet. You watched him stumble and fall to the ground. Your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the look on his face - the shadows, the distress. His eyes going back and forth from the body laying at your feet, to you. His glasses were long gone, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. You watched as he stood up, and started running again.

There was no outcome. There was never a choice to make. There was nothing to fix. And you were going to-...

Something shone from underneath you. A glimpse, the reflection of the sun.

A deafening detonation.

All you felt was the deathly pain. Everything pulled out of place, vibration in your bones, your face getting torn apart. The echo of a bullet ringing inside of you. Only the taste of sulfur and blood in your mouth.

You didn’t feel the moment your balance broke. You didn’t feel your body abruptly flinching in recoil, nor when your back hit the hard floor.

Only the raw feeling of exposed life, a Child of Ymir brought to their knees by Mankind’s weapons. The loss. Defeated, at long last.

Everything was red. Sensations gone, moving was agony. Silence was ringing hard, the world swaying. The smell of fire, the taste of metal. Body not responding. Muscles atrophied.

Eyes opened. The left one remained in the dark. And your face was devouring itself from the pain.

And it hurt, hurt so bad - it was worse than anything before. It was worse than the fall, worse than the arrow.

Each breath was death ignited on your face. And from there, all you could see was the sky turning black, the dark column of smoke elevating, already so high, hiding away the sun. You couldn’t hear a thing, only the ringing in your ears and chaos in your mind.

The world went dark.

Silent, at peace - finally.

The sound of the wind through the branches. A few notes played on a piano. You thought

This is it.

A sound. A sound that was not the sound of gunfire. That was not a scream of despair. A sound that had nothing horrifying. A familiar voice. It was your name.

Someone was calling your name.

Only no one in these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.

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