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#so i asked if we (now) had to submit a second claims form for the transport company dudes to compensate us
deus-ex-mona · 7 months
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kawareeeeeeeeeee~~~~~~~~~
#(aka me when my acid burns randomly start throbbin’ when i bend over :( it’s very inconvenient)#in other news ​this week absolutely s u c k s can i trade it in for a better one—#first there was that acid spill. which. like. ouch???? but the mark is still there and is apparently very obvious. which sucks#then the day after the acid attack™️ meself and one other guy were called out under the assumption that we were doing unnecessary overtime#with the ‘unnecessary’ part running off the basis that there’s a low sample volume bc one single monday had fewer samples than usual#and we were singled out j u s t because our taxi claims for last month were through the roof due to the fact that we live across the country#like??? hellooo????? why are you treating it like it’s my fault that i have to pay upwards of $24 (at least) to get home???#and??? excuse????? why are you extrapolating the previous day’s sample volume to the previous month’s workload as a whole????#but. m a n. the way the mildly higher up lady abruptly shouted at me for asking a question just. pissed me off. for some reason.#she was talking in circles regarding the future of our taxi claims#so i asked if we (now) had to submit a second claims form for the transport company dudes to compensate us#and she yelled at me to stop talking before i could finish :( sadded and annoyed tbh#though i get the feeling that she hasn’t liked me ever since i left some results she asked for between her desk and some other guy’s desk#and someone else had placed their notebook or sth atop it so she couldn’t find it. and she blamed me for it. ha.#that was a few weeks ago though. so. hm. i wonder if she’s still mad about that…#either way. i applied for a couple of jobs that are closer to my place bc screw travelling across the country for an hour every day#s c r e w hour-long train rides i’d rather sleep#i prolly won’t even get the other jobs but. oh well. that’s life ig
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alexlwrites · 1 month
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As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!
This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!
As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!
Anywho! Enjoy!
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Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.
Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.
And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.
"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"
Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...
"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"
"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.
Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.
Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"
"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"
Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.
They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.
Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?
Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...
Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.
Oh.
Oh.
You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.
Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!
You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."
Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:
-accelerated heart beat
-exaggerated hand sweating
-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case
-ill timed boners
And, the most common one:
-praise kink
Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.
If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.
Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.
Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad.  Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...
Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!
Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.
The betrayal? The bro-trayal?
Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.
Bugger.
Bugger it all to hell.
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zhongliologist · 1 year
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Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series
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Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh
Genre: SMUT
Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped
Words: 5.7k
A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo
Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo
Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
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There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.
The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.
“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”
The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.
“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”
And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.
“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”
“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”
You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”
This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.
As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.
And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.
“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.
“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.
“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”
“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.
“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”
Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.
“Makes sense. Go on.”
You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”
Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”
Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!
“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”
“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?��� you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.
“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”
“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”
“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”
The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.
“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.
“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”
The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”
“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.
“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.
“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.  
“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—
“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.
“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”
“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”
“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”
“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”
“What…?”
Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.
“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.
“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.
Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!
Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.
“What are you two even doing?”
The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.
“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.
“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”
Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”
“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”
In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.
“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.
“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.
“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.
You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?
“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”
It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.
“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”
“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”
“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”
The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.
The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.
There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.
You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.
Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.
“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.
Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.
 “—!!”
“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”
With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.
Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.
Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.
“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”
All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”
As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.
The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.
Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.
“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”
Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.
Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.
“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.
At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.
And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.
All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.
“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.
“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”
With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.
Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.
Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.
All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.
“…Kaveh…more…”
You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.
“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”
With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.
“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”
As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.
“Wait…no…! That’s…!”
“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”
You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.
“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”
“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”
As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.
“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”
Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”
“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.
Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”
Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.
Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.
“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.
It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.
Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.
“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.
“Feel what?”
“My dick—“
In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.
“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”
“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.
“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”
Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.
Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.
“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.
“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”
“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.
This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.
With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.
Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.
“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.
Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.
“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”
“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”
Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.
The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.
At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.
By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.
But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.
“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.
“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.
“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.
But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.
“Oww my fucking back!”
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EPILOGUE
“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”
Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.
“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”
You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”
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coochiequeens · 1 year
Text
“On November 23, Natalee Bingham, a friend of a Club Q victim, appeared on CNN to refute the shooter’s alleged gender identity. When asked for comment on Aldrich’s “non-binary” identity, Bingham called it “ludicrous,” and claimed “it was obvious” Aldrich was a man based on his appearance.”                                     But I thought you couldn’t assume gender based on appearance?
After it was revealed that a shooter who killed 5 people and injured 25 others at an LGBT nightclub in Colorado identifies as “non-binary” and uses gender neutral pronouns, trans activists took to social media to express disbelief over his self-declared identity.
Anderson Lee Aldrich, 22, opened fire at Club Q on November 19, tragically killing Raymond Green Vance, Kelly Loving, Daniel Aston, Derrick Rump and Ashley Paugh. At least 25 others in the venue were also injured during the incident. Aldrich was arrested at the scene and taken into police custody.
Following news of the mass killings, prominent figures blamed “homophobia” and “transphobia” for the shooting.
California Senator Scott Wiener, who introduced a bill that turns the state into a refuge for youth and parents of children seeking out puberty-halting drugs, went so far as to blame the shooting on the use of the word “groomer” online.
However, a recent court filing revealed that Aldrich identifies as a non-binary individual, and therefore could be considered a member of the LGBTQ community according to his chosen status.
On November 22, Aldrich’s legal team submitted court documents stating that their client prefers use they/them pronouns and goes by “Mx. Aldrich” as opposed to “Mr.” or “Ms.” Aldrich. The shooter also had legally changed his name shortly after his 16th birthday, and was born Nicholas Franklin Brink.
The revelation came after days of fierce online assertions over the shooters motivations, with many trans activists blaming both conservatives and gender critical feminists for the shooting. Some took aim at conservative commentators such as Matt Walsh and Tucker Carlson, with others even directing their ire at children’s author JK Rowling.
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“Wow turns out I had never in my life experienced fury until the second I read the sentence ‘the shooter now claims he is non-binary,'” tweeted Gretchen Felker-Martin. Felker-Martin recently published a novelcentered around trans-identified males graphically murdering feminists.
Some reporters even struggled to decide which pronouns to use for the shooter when reporting on the case. One CBS News clip showed reporter Karen Morfitt stumbling over her words as she attempted to use gender neutral pronouns for Aldrich, while CNN presenters speculated that Aldrich wasn’t really non-binary, but was instead setting up his defense case against the hate crime charges. 
On November 23, Natalee Bingham, a friend of a Club Q victim, appeared on CNN to refute the shooter’s alleged gender identity.
When asked for comment on Aldrich’s “non-binary” identity, Bingham called it “ludicrous,” and claimed “it was obvious” Aldrich was a man based on his appearance. 
“It was obvious with the mugshot that’s a man. That’s not a non-binary person because in no way shape or form could they appear as a woman the next day,” Bingham claimed.
Bingham called it “offensive” for a “male” to “play that role,” and reiterated that it was easy to tell Aldrich was not really what he claimed to be.
The clip of Bingham’s appearance began circulating on social media, and many users were quick to point out Bingham’s hypocrisy over not respecting Aldrich’s identity because of his appearance.
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Disclosure notice: @Slatzism is the Editor-in-Chief at Reduxx.
“But I thought we can’t tell anyone’s gender until they tell us? Aren’t we just supposed to believe what people say? Fairly sure Natalee is engaging in some double standards here,” one user said in response to the clip.
“Oh so it sounds like we don’t need to declare or recognize pronouns any more, we can just go by looks. Right?,” another user questioned.
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The narrative that Aldrich is claiming to be non-binary as a legal maneuver to secure leniency during the trial began circulating across social media shortly after news of the court filing broke. Many trans activists are now claiming that Aldrich is only pretending to be non-binary, citing evidence such as family members using he/him pronouns to describe him on social media. 
Trans activist and alleged sex offender Eli Erlick repeatedly misgendered Aldrich on Twitter and claimed he is “playing the media by lying” about his gender identity.
“Using queer and trans self-determination ethos against us is a disgusting but effective way to further harm our communities.” Erlick stated on Twitter. In the past, Erlickhas criticized those who accurately identify him as male, despite some anecdotal evidence that he leveraged his own self-declared transgender status to avoid criticism for alleged crimes he committed. 
The debate amongst trans activists about Aldrich not being “authentically” non-binary are in contrast with long-standing assertion that trans activists claiming the only requirement to being “non-binary” is to self identify as such.
A viral tweet from September asserted that non-binary people “deserve to be respected without having their identity picked apart.”
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The situation with Aldrich resembles recent controversies surrounding non-binary actor Ezra Miller.
Miller, known for his roles in The Flash and We Need to Talk About Kevin, became the subject of international outcry after numerous disturbing incidents came to light.
Miller is alleged to have committed multiple acts of violence against women, some of which were filmed and well-documented. In 2020, Miller was caught on video choking a female fan in Iceland and throwing her to the concrete. Earlier this year, Miller was reported to police by a Hawaiian woman who stated he had hit her in the head with a chair.
Most disturbingly, the mother of a young woman took to Twitter to report that her daughter had been effectively kidnapped by Miller, who had groomed her from when she was a minor, and plied her with illicit drugs.
Environmental activist Sara Jumping Eagle told her followers that her daughter, Tokata Iron Eyes, has not had a phone since January of this year, and that her family has been unable to locate her.
Yet despite all of his controversies, activists on Twitter asserted that Miller’s non-binary identity must be respected regardless of his improprieties. The actor uses the pronouns they/them/it and zir.
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Similarly, earlier this year, internet celebrity Christian Weston Chandler, known more commonly as Chris Chan, appeared in court charged with raping his own 79 year old mother. 
During the court proceedings, people on Twitter began posting about the importance of not misgenderingChandler, who identifies as both a woman and a lesbian.
In addition to those outright denying Aldrich’s identity, some claimed it was “suspicious” for him to have begun using they/them pronouns only after his arrest. 
Trans activist and writer Katelyn Burns tweeted: “I just think it’s very convenient that the first time anyone on the planet has ever heard of you preferring they them pronouns is just after you’ve been arrested for shooting up a queer bar.”
But women’s rights advocates were quick to retort by pointing out that criminals identifying as transgender following an arrest, conviction, or incarceration was a relatively common occurrence.
Responding to Burns, one Twitter user wrote: “It’s almost like gender identity ideology allows males to do as they please and then claim trans status to avoid the repercussions. Most (transwomen) in Scottish jails only discovered they were trans after they were arrested. Funny that.”
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Many pointed to a study published in the British Journal of Criminology which speculated that “the transitions of transgender people might be an attempt by pedophiles or other sex offenders to access cis-women in the female prison estate.” The same study found that a large percentage of men who identified as women in prison detransitioned upon release. 
“So, the Colorado shooting suspect is identifying as ‘non-binary’ with ‘they/them’ pronouns. Many desperate for this inconvenient info to go away are claiming ‘they’ are just gaming the system. Possibly true. But haven’t gender critical women been warning about this for years?” tweeted podcaster Stephen Knight.
The motive for Aldrich’s horrific actions have still yet to be determined by official investigation, despite the array of online speculation. So far, it has been revealed that the shooter had a traumatic upbringing with both parents having criminal backgrounds.
At 16, Aldrich filed a legal petition in Texas seeking to “protect himself” from his father, who had a criminal history including domestic violence against his mother. Aldrich’s father is an MMA fighter and porn actor who is reportedly addicted to methamphetamine. 
Formal charges are to expected to be brought against Aldrich at his next court hearing, set for December 6.
By Shay Woulahan Shay is a writer and social media content creator for Reduxx. She is a proud lesbian activist and feminist who lives in Northern Ireland with her partner and their four-legged, fluffy friends.
It is possible to mourn the dead and point out the hypocrisy of the TRA response to a shooter with pronouns.
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What are your thoughts on BTS's future and TK's future with BTS? I have a gut feeling BTS aren't going to reconvene in 2025. Especially with Bang's uncertainty shown in the press conference.
Maybe TK aren't re-signing? Idk what to think
Ok this ask has been in my drafts for nearly a fortnight. Firstly, I wanted to apoligise to the original sender that it took me this long to get sorted. Last week was busy with work and I've also had to deal with a tonne of asks too. So apologies.
This post is also F.A.O. @nonalisa @lullaby-of-taekook @taekookgotjamz  who asked about my thoughts so to you and the rest of you...
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First, I'll give a bit of context and then my thoughts on what might be happening now and could happen in the future....
First, the context:
This will be broken up into 3 parts...
2018 & the 2020 contract
Fake Rumours about contracts and lack of support
What HYBE are saying
2018 & the New 2020 contract.
We can't talk about the future without looking back to the previous renegotiation.
In 2017, BTS were close to breaking point and in early 2018 contemplating disbandment. Under this cloud BigHit initiated negotiations with BTS, over several months the boys renegotitated there second phase contract, due to start in June 2020, and most likely an adjustment to the then current contract.
I have speculated that BTS, and in particular Taekook, used Dispatch to hint at them being a couple as form of contract negotiation.
Whatever happened BTS re-signed.
It should be noted that BH suggested that BTS use their own lawyers and even to consult with their parents about the contract proposals.
I feel the new contract afforded BTS a lot more autonomy and control over their futures, content and lives. First indications of this was the two-month break in 2019.
It's clear from June 2020 there is a stark change in how the boys are presented and how they interact both in front and behind the camera.
Most reports indicated that the new contract was until 2026
Major news outlets would not report that date unless it came directly from BH.
Then in 2020 during the IPO of BH on the Korean Stock Market, this came out...
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So why the two dates? My initial thought was a 5 year contract with an option to extent for 2 years. However, I now think the answer is a lot simpler, BTS signed a 5 year deal which factored in 2 year time out for military enlistment, so there would be an automatic extension to 2026, hence why nearly all news outlets in 2018 mention this obvious press release date.
The Fake Rumour(s) about Contracts
Between June 2020 and now amongst some Taekookers and solo stans there is a perception that HYBE is sideling and not supporting Tae and JK.
Then, in Jan 2023, a Taekook twitter account started circulating a "blind item" claiming to be from October 2020 about how 5 members of BTS had re-signed/extended their contract, but 1 member hadn't, and another was supportive of them (despite there being not a single shred of evidence of such a blind item existing back in 2020)...
Then BANG! on 11th February, on the well-known blind item website CrazyDaysCrazyNights, the exact same blind item resurfaced but with 2023 twist that set out to villainise HYBE and Scooter Braun...
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My guess, because people can submit gossip to CDCN, someone did this recently for this blind.
Following it's posting, it was clear that some Taekookers and Solo JK/Tae Stans used this blind as justification for their fav's perceived lack of support from the company (despite that not exactly being the case) and ongoing assumption that Taekook were the only ones who hadn't re-signed, and will not enlist and would leave BH after 2024. Obviously forgetting that not a few days earlier they claimed this all happened back in 2020. Odd that isn't it....
These rumours were initially compounded by JK's Lives on Weverse, where he talks about not working on his album that he's not doing much. Then within days, we hear about Tae's work and promotion of it, as well as JK going to work and rumours of a BA with Calvin Klein.
HYBE, BigHit and Band PD....
As the speculation grew - within the fandom about how supposedly some of the members, particularly Taekook weren't getting the same level of support from the company - we suddenly start seeing statements and interviews, reiterating that the company supports all members in their solo projects.
In particular, Bang PD does an interview and conference where he talks about the future of K-Pop. He specifically mentioned BTS and that they are currently in contract renewal talks with BH. So unlike the blind all the members are currently negotiating their new contract, but it's likely nothing will resolve until BTS return from enlistment.
My thoughts...
I'll break this down into BTS as a whole and what might be the key points in the contract talks, then look briefly at Taekook.
BTS
BTS back in 2018 decided to renegotiate together as 1 and got a new contract as a collective. That contract I think gave them a lot more freedom, control and opportunities for solo activities until 2024/26 from June 2020.
During this new contract negotiation, which likely started last year, it's clear they're doing the same thing. We know this because RM stated it in his Live the other day. I think the catch up with Jin last week, whilst was about catching up with him it was also about the new contract. RM also stated it would be resolved until they all return from the military.
I think the new contract is about allowing BTS to create music and go on tours together every few years and in between allow them to grow as soloists too. As well as, giving them even more control over their time and music.
This is where a new BTS Label, separate from BigHit and HYBE, could come into play. It will be like what Apple Records was like for the Beatles. However, this may be the biggest sticking point for HYBE, it would be predominantly owned by BTS, with HYBE as a minority shareholder. I also wonder if BTS want their Masters, as this would increase their control. I think HYBE want to retain as much control/profit as the can from BTS, but obviously the boys want more of that for themselves too. So, I think a compromise will be reached.
I do think HYBE will give them most of the control and freedom they want and possibly more control/ownership over their Masters.
Taekook
There is a perception in certain quarters that Tae and JK are victims and are just riding out their contract until 2024. That doesn't tally with what they and the other members have said. I definitely think all 7 re-sign with BH/HYBE in some way. But I wonder if Taekook want some specific for them included too. I could see them asking for no "fanservice" moments, but that's small fry. Could they want a managed (sort of) coming out plan? That's possible. In light of recent events, could they want HYBE to support them officially moving in together as flatmates?
These are all interesting questions and thoughts I currently have.
Final thought:
What is clear though to me, is that BTS will be re-signing with HYBE in some way, and we'll possibly get that announcement shortly after the last members return from the military.
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safetycar-restart · 1 year
Note
Hey, I’m the anon who sent the 4 part ask about Charles the other day 😅 I also sent one a lot earlier about the kinkmas pornstar!au. Those are the only two times I’ve ever sent asks and I just want to say thanks for making me feel so welcomed 😭 I was so anxious because I’m not that good of a writer but thankfully you’re great and developed my lil brain rot pieces into some beautiful cliterature ❤️ So as a thank you, I shall deposit this thought:
Crybaby!Charles cries every time he cums. And he’s a soft subby baby but I can’t help but think about a little overstimulation play with him. You’re his mommy, his dom, so he trusts you to know when he’s really at his limit and knows that you’ll always listen and take care of him. You’re his safe person so there’s no one else he trusts more for overstimulating him. No restraints because that would really be too much for him. Especially on his first try. But he’s so eager and happy to please mommy. So when mommy asks if he wants one more (yk to cum one more time) he’ll still fig deep and let out one more for you. Even though this is the second time you said ‘one more?’ And you always know how to read his tears. You’re so attentive that you learn and know the difference between happy to cum crying, feeling very sensitive crying and the whimpers that indicate his had enough.
Hopefully this one’s as ok as my first 2 😅 And if it’s ok with you, can I claim the 🦦 emoji?
Firstly I love this idea so much!!!! All your asks have been so good and I’m so glad you want an emoji so that we can know it’s you!!
Unfortunately that emoji is already taken, there’s a list of all the claimed emojis on my pinned post but I know sometimes tumblr doesn’t show the pinned post for some reason so here is the current list of claimed emojis: 💋 🍒 🍅 🍁🐞🍄🏉 🎃 🧡 🔥🧦 🛒🎮 🦁 🦊🍌 ✨ 🌙 🐥 🍋 🌛👩‍🌾 🐍 🐢🌱 🐬 🌊🫐 🍆 👾🍬 🌸🩰 🐇 ⛸️🪩📓 🪑🦦
So any other emoji is available :)) (also I would LOVE to see people claim these emojis: 🦉🌻⛄️🧂🧩🕯️🧬🛎️🪫🛸🍿🥀🧳🫀) so please pick another emoji and then let me know which one you’ve chosen and I’ll add to the claimed list and to the tags of this post :))
But anyway, let’s get back to your absolutely amazing ask!!
I think that at first, Charles would be very scared of overstimulation. Not because he didn’t want to cum so much that he couldn’t even remember his own name, because he absolutely did, but because he’s scared of how vulnerable he would he?
Charles is well aware that he’s already a subby baby, and so to add overstimulation would make him even more vulnerable than he already is and that’s scary. Very scary.
But then he meets you and you gain his trust and suddenly overstimulation isn’t scary anymore. Nothing is scary when his mommy is looking after him.
He has no doubt that you’ll push him, as he wants you to, but that you’ll never push him too far because you know exactly where his limits are. He can just completely submit without a care in the world because he knows his mommy will look after him and make him feel good.
You know he’s gonna start crying before you even start the scene, because he always cries after he cums and so you’re sure the tears will only increase as he cums again and again.
You’re right of course.
To untrained eyes and ears, Charles’s sounds and tears might seem the same always but you know better. Charles’s lack of ability to form words or sentences in scenes used to scare you, but now you understand his sounds like a full language.
It should also be noted that you keep on wiping his tears from his cheeks even though you know he’s going to be cumming again after this and will cry even more so there’s no real point in wiping his tears. But you do it because you know charles loves it, loves to have a little break from the overstimulation with you wiping his tears and kissing his forehead.
And of course aftercare will involve tears too, because he’s so vulnerable and subby and overwhelmed with all these big emotions and so you must hold him tight and let him cry softly in your arms until he’s ready to be cleaned up.
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bafflement · 1 year
Text
Deaged Oz AU - Custody Arrangements
Em Pine sighed in frustration as she filled out yet another form to try to become the legal guardian of her new nephew. She didn't remember it being this complicated to claim custody of Oscar, surely it shouldn't be in Oz's case? She double checked to make sure the birthdate matched the other forms, happy she'd asked what Oz's birthday was before they'd left. (He'd sounded so confused, the poor dear, as though he didn't think he deserved one.) So much about Oz made her angry, so many red flags. If she ever found his parents, they would be having words, she was very certain of that, if nothing else. She filed the latest form and left, at least they'd promised to actually look into things this time...
"There is no record of the boy in question. Denied." Was all the letter said. Just that and nothing more, so much for the promises they'd made. She stared down at it in frustration and anger before picking it up and storming back to the train station, hoping she'd make it in time before the office closed for the day. This needed to be sorted out as soon as possible, if only to give Oz some form of legal identity.
The official behind the desk sighed. "Look, ma'am, we can't find any record of this 'Tip Pine'. Do you have any proof he exists? Pictures, physical proof? The boy himself? Even talking to your nephew would help."
"I'm not certain where the boys are right now, they're travelling with a family friend and friends of their own, but I do have pictures, yes. She dug out her scroll and started to show the pictures to the official. Lots of images of Oscar and Oz together, a few of them with her, too. There were even a few they'd sent her of all nine kids together with Qrow in the background. The official tutted to himself.
"Tell you what, contact the older boy, see if he picks up. We'll go from there." He seemed willing to listen at least, though part of that might have been the sheer adorability of the boys in question. They'd looked so sweet asleep against each other in the house in Mistral. It had been rather nice of Qrow to send her that one.
Oscar blinked as his scroll rang, he hadn't been expecting a call after all. Pulling it out, he grinned at the caller ID.
"Hi, Aunt Em!"
"Oh, hello Oscar, do you have a minute?"
"Sure, what do you need?"
"I have a gentleman here that needs to talk to you, if that's alright?" She passed the scroll over to the official, who smiled.
"Hello there, you'd be Oscar Pine, correct?"
"Yes? Hello, who are you?"
"Well, my name is Aster Lyme and I work with the families department here in Haven. I just have a few questions regarding one Tip Pine? There are no records of him, you see. Your aunt claims that you see him as a brother?"
"The families department?" Oscar sounded confused, but shrugged. "Yes, Tip's my brother now. I always wanted a brother, and now I have one!"
The man smiled to himself. "Well, you certainly do sound very attached to him. Now, the records your aunt submitted claim that he's ten? Do you know his parents, at all?"
"Uh..." Oscar looked uncomfortable for a second. "I'm not sure who they are? He's never really talked about them. I can go and get him for you?"
"That might be for the best, yes."
Oz blinked as he accepted the scroll from Oscar, who just grinned at him, looking slightly confused.
"Hello?"
"Oh, hello there. You'd be Tip, right?"
"I, well, yes, who are you?"
"I'm Aster Lyme and I need to ask some questions, if that's alright? Do you know where your parents are? Or their names?" He sounded softer than he was when talking to Oscar, his eyes sympathetic as the little boy on the other end blinked in shock.
"I... I'm not sure who they were, why do you need to know?"
Oscar, in the background, sent a horrified look towards Oz. He hadn't known that his brother didn't even know who his parents had been. Who'd raised him, how... just, what?
"I work for the family department here in Mistral, an Emerald Pine has tried to claim custody of you, but your records are incomplete. Are you sure you don't know your parent's names, can't describe them at all?"
"I'm certain. i have no memory of them, I'm sorry."
The official sighed heavily. "No need to apologise, little one. I'll mark your parents as unknown, that's alright, I just needed to check."
Oz pouted slightly at being called little one, but still looked confused. "Aunt Em is trying to claim custody of me? But... why?"
"She seems rather attached to you, as does your brother. Now, do you know where you were born, at all? Or is that unknown, too?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm unsure. As stated, I don't really remember that, either."
"Noted. You have a Vale accent, so I'll note that as the possible origin point, but I think that should be just about everything. Nice to meet you both. I'll let you talk to your aunt for a while and thank you for the help!" The scroll was passed back to Aunt Em, who looked rather concerned.
"Aunt Em?" Oz sounded confused. "Why exactly are you trying to adopt me? I'm really, really honored by what you and Oscar have done for me, but custody? Really?"
"Oh, Tip. Is it really that hard to accept that we want you? You're my nephew, Oscar's brother. This just makes it official. And besides, it's only guardianship, just like I have with Oscar. Just because you don't know who your parents were doesn't mean that you didn't have them and I'd no more try to replace them than I would my sister and her husband. You're just gaining more family, and so am I."
"Yeah!" Oscar chimed in. "You're ours now, my brother and Aunt Em's nephew. Whoever raised you can't claim you anymore. You're safe."
"Safe?" Oz breathed, as though tasting the word for the first time. "I am unsure just what safe feels like, really."
The others, who had been trying hard not to listen in, glanced at each other, looking vaguely horrified.
"Oh, pocket sized." Jaune breathed. "None of us would ever hurt you, you really are safe here, or at least as safe as any of us are."
Oz looked deeply touched by the statement, smiling rather sadly back at Jaune. Aunt Em smiled to herself too, thankful that her boys had friends they could rely on.
Later, months after everything had been finalised, Em Pine got a call out of the blue herself. She answered it rather gingerly, not instantly recognising the man on the other end.
"Hello there, I'm General James Ironwood and I'm calling you regarding Oz. Well, and Oscar, I suppose. I was hoping you'd sign over custody to me. Surely they'd be better under my guidance."
"Excuse me?" She stated, flatly, eyes hard. "And just why would I give up custody of my nephews to you? I also note that you seem worryingly interested in Tip for an Academy Headmaster, does your council know about your predilictions?"
James spluttered out denials, face red as Em glared at him.
"What? What? No. Why would I, why would you imply... Oz is my friend. He needs protection while he's here, they both do. Not... not, that!" It was rather amusing for Winter Schnee, who was still in the room, to see her normally unflappable general in such a state. But then, this was a call involving her uncle and she'd heard... stories, about him, over the years.
"He may need your protection while he's there, but I'm not signing over custody. You can have temporary guardianship, but Oscar is my blood nephew and, as for Tip? There's a saying here in Mistral, General."
"Oh?" He still sounded vaguely dazed, but at least with temporary custody he could recover from the conversation. He might try again, then again, he might not.
"Yes. Finder's keepers. Tip is mine, go find your own."
Winter laughed. Maybe James had finally found his equal after all.
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deadgrantaires · 1 year
Text
i think i just posted breakdown lb today but to sum up my monday:
had to wake up at 7am to call DES about benefits. keep in mind i havent been sleeping for like a week i am waking up at least eveyr hour sometimes eveyr 20 minutes all night long i wake up more exhuasted than when i go to bed and BONUS my chronic pain is through the roof and staying in bed is physically painful. i have no clear solution for this until i see a physical therapist and a neurologist. so i call DES and am immediatley very sick. im on hold while i have to clean up my sick mess. im exhausted. im on hold for over an Hour despite calling them the second they open. i finally talk to someone for this """totally necessary interview""" shes asks me like 5 questions that were already answered when i called TWO WEEKS AGO to APPLY. she CLAIMSm y account is no longer spliced with my roommates but has no proof. i tell her that when i log into the portal/account ive had for SIX YEARS i cannot see the latest application. she says theres nothing she can do and thats and IT problem. great. so i cant upload any documents online. she says i have to uplaod proof through an email with each document in a seperate email so it doesnt ""overwhelm the system."" im bashing my head in the wall but sure. ask her if theres anything else. yse. she now claims that i have to CALL AGAIN anytime that i submit a documentb c if i dont THEY WILL NOT BE NOTIFIED OF THE DOCUMENT BEING RECIEVED...... WHAT??? i say ive been doing this for 6 years and have NEVER encounted this what is she talking about when did this become a thing. she says 'well during covid we couldnt do in person so you ahve to call.' i tell her ive been doing this 6 years and have alwyas doen eveyrthing online fully and completley. and remind her i called the second they opened and was on hold for OVER AN HOUR. she insists this is ""how it is."" im about to cry. i manage to thank her and hang up and try calling the number she gave me for IT. its now a little past 9am i was on the phone with her for an hour to answer 5 questions i alreayd answered previously. i call the IT number. the recording says they haev too high a call volume and to call back later and hang up. theyve been open 2 hours. i ahve to go to w0rk at 11. and act like eveyrthings fine despite having no access to see my application and getting compellte mixed messages form eveyroen i talk to on the phone and beign told to JUST CALL AGAIN when EVYER interaction with them has taken me 2-3 hours that i ahve to WAKE UP AT 7AM for.
add that to the growng stress of i think i might lose my state insurance and thus wouldnt be able to afford my necessary medication let alone my continuouse doctor visits as my conditioning is worsening. so. understandably id say i had a complete breakdown on my lunch br3ak and have been internally battling my panicked suicidal ideation by trying to be kind to myself and take care of my needs so. yeah. im litterally at the end of my rope and i am. just refusing to ever call them again after the shit show ive been through for weeks on end in addition to my sharply declining health. so. well. 👍
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lilyblyss · 3 years
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So, I was rereading my old posts and came across a Sukuna one I half-heartedly posted a while back and had a better idea about. The inspo's only slight, but it was still there.
Warning/Tag:: 18+, fem-bodied reader, noncon, slight talk of the supernatural, monster-fucking (Sukuna in his true form), degradation, name-calling, size-kink, overstimulation, spit kink, pet names (includes: doll, little one), a hint of a CNC kink
Note:: Sukuna is forever condescending, don't take his compliments to heart
You didn’t like to think too much about the supernatural occurrences that happened around your apartment. Other than the slight inconvenience of it all, it never really affected your everyday life. Sure, ruined lipstick smeared across your bathroom mirror and your eating utensils being moved randomly were a little much, but easily overlooked when you considered just how much you spent on the place. Not that you couldn’t afford a better place, what with your occupation and all, but as your late grandmother always said; the easiest way to have lots of money was to avoid spending it. Then again, if she knew where your money was coming from, she’d no doubt call it filthy.
Not that it mattered much to you. You minded the business that paid you, and being a camgirl paid you very well.
"I'm just saying," your friend always complained, "if you're making good enough money, you can get out of your totally haunted apartment."
"It's probably nothing to worry about." You placated. The annoying tricks and pranks were just that, and it's not as if you planned on living there the rest of your life. Everything would be fine.
Except when it wasn't. Especially because some humanoid, four-armed, two-faced, monstrosity was laying across your bed, barely covered in his kimono as if he ran the place. You stood at the entrance of your room, toothpaste foam still sitting on the corner of your mouth and your toothbrush beginning to slip out of your hand. You were just getting ready for bed, dressed in an oversized shirt and some mini-shorts.
The monster seemed pleased with your reaction, leaning forward with an awfully smug smirk on his face, eyes squinting as his mouths grinned devilishly, bringing attention to the tattoo on his face. You supposed the strawberry blond--almost pink really--hair would have taken points off the intimidation factor, but just his blood-red eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. He was attractive in a terrifying way, a 'living on the wild side of things' way. If he was human, he might have actually been someone on the street you'd be attracted to.
“Ah, so you can finally see me,” he hummed, voice almost slurring, “I was starting to think my efforts were in vain. Be grateful, little one, that I’m so patient.”
You quickly wiped your mouth, placing your toothbrush in the cup on your dresser. You slowly looked around the room for any sign of breaking and entering. There were none. “W- how did--who are you?”
He stood from the bed, hunching over just a little to keep from bumping his head against the ceiling--look at that, the small extra for the high ceilings did come in handy--and walked over to you, stopping you in your tracks. He doubles, almost triple you in size and you take a step back. You looked almost like a rabbit, eyes focusing on the most dangerous thing in the room in case you needed to run. Poor thing just didn't know how trapped you already were.
His large finger curved around your chin, tilting it uncomfortably to make eye contact with him.
“Ryomen Sukuna. King of Demons. And you have caught my interest.”
“Me?”
“I prefer not to repeat myself, little one.” His voice is gruff, and it’s your first sign that maybe this man--demon--thing—isn’t the most patient creature on Earth. “That little… profession of yours, it’s intriguing. You certainly keep me interested in my pastime.”
“You’ve seen my…” Well, that’s a little embarrassing. This all-powerful creature not only noticed you touching yourself to millions but also happened to make a hobby out of it. “Why are you here then?”
“Simple, I want you to submit yourself to me. Put your body to good use.”
"Ah, so you wanna fuck me." He raised his eyebrow, but the interest still painted his face.
"Crude, though I guess expecting you to be a little bashful was an oversight; but yes. I want you. And I'm not asking."
You stared up at him, keeping eye contact as you took deep breaths. Slowly, carefully, you hold your hand out. Sukuna raised an eyebrow at you as you tilted your head expectedly. “Well? Pay up.”
“Excuse me?”
"Even with my life in danger, I'm afraid I won't be doing anything for free, sir. Sorry."
Your blood ran cold in your veins as his red eyes glowered at you, almost glowing in the dim lighting of your room. Your room seemed to grow colder with his mood and you shivered.
"You expect me to pay you?"
You swallowed, clearing your throat before boldly saying, "Yes. I do. It's my job."
Your hands were starting to shake, and despite the resolve in your eyes, the fact that Sukuna could--and probably would-- kill you without so much as a second thought made you wanna curl against him and beg for mercy. But you had your pride, goddammit. And even though your grandma didn't approve of a lot you did, you knew she would at least love you for that much.
Instead of moving his hand and snapping your neck like a twig for wasting his time like you thought he would, he twitched your head side to side, taking in your expression before humming. Before you could even blink, you were on your back. He was sitting in front of you on his knees, and you were folded in half on his lap; both your wrists were trapped in just one of his hands, another of his hands pushed one of your thighs against your chest, the other forced around his waist.
Even with your foot planted on his hard chest, you couldn't even attempt to push him away.
You gasped when his third hand roughly grabbed your cheeks, making you look at him. You started to swarm, and he looked excited at the steady increase of your heartbeat.
"Do you really think you have what it takes to deny me? That I'm giving you a choice?"
Through labored breaths, you answered: "I… I thought we were doing business."
He raised an eyebrow, both intrigued and annoyed. "I have you trapped under me and you still have the nerve to mouth off?"
You let out a shaky laugh, tears starting to form in your eyes regardless of how hard you tried to keep them in. "It's the adrenaline. Sorry."
In the back of your head, you could hear a voice that vaguely sounded like your friend begging you to just be quiet, but you figured you were probably going to die here tonight anyway. Besides, you seemed to make a habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time, you think it might just be ironic justice that it's what gets you killed.
Instead of the blood-curdling screams being thorn from your throat as Sukuna ripped it out, the only sound that rang through the room was Sukuna's laugh. First muted between his lips then shifting into a deep belly laugh. His eyes are wild, wide with dangerous wonderment, and his smile terribly wide, showing how sharp his teeth were and the warning bells rang louder in your ears. You were so occupied looking at his canines that you failed to register his fourth and last hand was on you until it reached under the hemline of your shorts. You let out a gasp when his fingers slid against your clit down to your opening, the rough callus on the tip in complete contrast with the smoothness caused by your slick.
“Is it all that adrenaline that’s making you this wet, or are you just accustomed to being ready for anything like a slut?”
You jolted, cursing your sensitivity as he massaged your clit. It wasn’t even the entire situation that had aroused you, but with the only sexual attention you received coming through the screen, there weren’t many times that you had been touched by another person. Having his hands on you, pressing against your skin, and maneuvering you however he pleased was just what your body needed to get you in the mood.
“I’m not a slut!” you yelled. He didn't care to respond. He removed his hand from your shorts long enough to pull them off before returning to part your folds and play with your clit.
Wiggling your hands, you hoped that he would loosen his grip on you, but it did nothing. In fact, it made Sukuna hold you a bit tighter, wanting to watch you struggle more. He normally wanted absolute submission from what he wanted to claim, but the show of defiance was almost fun to him; a shocking difference from what he was used to. It reminded him of the past when demons ran free without the worry of priests and purifications, where he’d have the privilege to actually conquer. He licked his lips as you struggled to keep the pleasure from showing on your face; as if you couldn’t fathom enjoying this. He decided he wanted to see how long you could keep that up.
He pushed one of his fingers into you, not caring that just his one finger was about the length of two of yours. He started at a slow pace, wanting to feel your walls pulsing as they tried to quickly get used to his fingers. Heavy breaths accompanied by faint moans leaving your parted lips as he moved. You continued to squirm, but now for a different purpose, wanting his finger to press more firmly against that spot that sent shivers through your entire body. You cursed yourself for looking for pleasure on his fingers.
He smirked at the shaky breaths you made when his hand moved from your face to sit against your neck. “That feel good? You can tell me, little one.” he mocked, pressing against your inner walls to prepare you for another finger. "You should thank me for being so kind, preparing you like this."
You bit your lip to try to keep your voice in, eyes shutting to block him out, not wanting to indulge him by showing him how good you were feeling. Not that he didn’t know it. The way you cant your hips against his hand was needy, almost as if he wasn’t moving fast enough for you, was telling enough. Still, he decided to play your little game.
However, the soft moan that escaped your lips when he pressed against the side of your neck let him know that he was winning. Not wasting a second, he inserted his second finger. It forced a pained moan out of you, toes curling against his chest as your body tensed from being stretched with almost zero warning. You let out a curse when his fingers curled up, increasing the speed as he fucked them into you.
He ignored your pitiful whimpers asking him to wait, back arching as you tried to scoot away from his fingers, already feeling overwhelmed yet not close to coming. You could feel your eyes water as your body begged for a break; you couldn’t even wrap a hand around his bicep to ground yourself.
“S-Sukuna… please it’s--I can’t.”
Just as you thought, he didn’t listen. Blinking a few times and feeling the tears run down your cheeks, you saw Sukuna’s face; condescending, pleased, and aroused beyond belief as he watched you fall apart around his fingers. It’s like he enjoyed the idea of ruining you.
“It’s just two fingers, doll. Are you telling me you can’t even take that? What a worthless whore, after all.” With a laugh coating his words, he sped up the movement of his fingers, and you choked on a moan, a sob quickly following after.
“Y--! You don’t exactly have the most normal fingers!” You struggled to muster. The leg at his waist curling around him and pressing your heel on his back. You briefly wondered if you had enough strength to attempt to kick him, but the hand at your throat moved to grab your ankle, inadvertently pulling you closer on his lap. It was then that you felt the imprints of something large and thick on your ass and lower back, and you shivered.
Sukuna leaned forward, pressing an open mouth kiss against your neck, making sure his teeth scraped against the surface, almost as a reminder that your life was in his hands at the moment. “Hmm, so you still have a bit of fight left in you, do you?”
You refused to answer, biting your bottom lip as hard as you could, too concerned with trying to stay quiet to worry about the threat of drawing blood. For the first time since Sukuna pinned you down, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, one of his hands returning to your face and forcing your jaw apart.
“I grow tired of this damned habit of yours.” Before the irritation could truly settle on his face, he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. He shoved his tongue in your mouth, almost suffocating you with the need to keep his lips against yours. He was brutal with his kiss, almost as if he wanted to hurt you. But you couldn't tell if it was because he didn't realize his own strength in regards to you or if he just didn't care. He gave you no room to breathe, tongue domineering as it claimed you. You tried to bite him, but Sukuna pressed his thumb in as well, hooking it against your molars, and tugged as a warning, disregarding the tears falling because of him.
You let out a groan as he sucked your tongue into his mouth before pulling back. He looked at you as you fought to catch your breath, and was aroused at your tear-stained pitiful face and bruised lips, still held open by his thumb. For a moment he looked like he was contemplating something before gathering the spit in his mouth and letting it drip on your tongue. He moved his thumb to place against your bottom lip and looked at you expectantly.
You swallowed as best as you could as you felt heat rush through your body, the pleasure almost painful as it continued to bottle up.
Sukuna could feel the arousal thumping through his body as you shakingly opened your mouth to show him. "And I didn't even have to tell you what to do. What a good little thing you are."
You knew he didn't mean it, not in the way that should make you tingle, but with the way he just kissed you breathless and his fingers quickly bringing you to your peak, your waterlogged brain couldn't tell much of a difference at this point.
"Haah, Sukuna, 't hurts!" Your body started to tense so much it hurt, your stomach felt tight and you wanted to scream because of all the sensations going through you.
"Poor thing, you wanna cum?" He sounded smug, but you were too focused on trying to calm your nerves before you lost your mind.
"Please! Sukuna, 's too much! I can't—!"
"Then come."
If you thought Sukuna was kind enough to gently work you through your orgasm, you were sorely mistaken. His fingers continued their brutal pace, forcing you through your orgasm, even as your overstimulated body tried to twist and turn away from him. The tears running down your face are almost in tandem with the erratic beating of your heart. The moan you let out bounced against the walls of your apartment and Sukuna reveled in it.
As you came down from your high, Sukuna moved away from you. You shook uncontrollably and you pressed a shaky hand against your lips, embarrassed that you'd been so loud. You wondered if your neighbors were going to complain about you to the landlord in the morning. You wouldn't blame them if they did. You covered your eyes and tried to control your breathing, allowing your body to relax for a moment.
A quick moment was all you were allowed, because soon Sukuna grabbed you again, pinning you under him as he aligned your hips with his. Tired, you looked at him, eyes drinking in the fact that he'd stripped himself, fixated on the tattoos lining his pecs and abs. Your legs parted for him, tensing when you felt his cock brush against your clit as he shifted.
"You'll only be taking one of my cocks tonight, but next time, I'll expect you to take both."
Your eyes widened, quickly looking down when he placed his cock--one of them--against your lower belly, the other pressed against the curve of your ass. It reached just below your belly button, and he was thick enough that if you were to wrap your hand around it, your middle finger and thumb wouldn't be able to touch. It was intimidating and he expected you to take two of those the next time he came?
He smirked, hand holding his length against you, drinking in the sight of his thick shaft on you. "This is how far I'll be, little one."
"It won't—"
"It's going to fit." The look he gave you meant business. He wasn't taking no for an answer, not that he had since the beginning. "I didn't work to open you up only to not fuck you. I'll make it fit."
Sukuna was pleased to see that even as you complained about his length, you sat still as he lined himself up against your hole. You laid down completely, willing yourself to relax as the head of his cock slid against you, toying with your clit then pressing against your entrance.
When he began actually pushing his cock into you, you let out a shocked yelp, tensing while your hands automatically moved to push against his shoulders. He disregarded you, continuing even as you clawed against his thick skin, raking down his chest—not that your nails caused much harm to him.
"Ugh! Wait—fuck!"
"You're so loud," he scoffed, pulling your stiff legs apart and opening you up for himself.
You wished he'd prepped you more. As much as his pace and thick fingers hurt, it really didn't compare to his dick; not even your thickest dildo was as much as Sukuna was. Admittedly, the pressure against your already pulsing walls was nice, but every time he moved it painfully reminded you that Sukuna was making you adjust to him, not letting you. The thought did help you loosen a bit more, but Sukuna could tell he wasn't going to get too far with you as you were, even with the shallow thrusts he was currently doing.
You let out a soft cry as something slimy and thick danced against your inner thigh before moving to your clit. You look down to see a tongue hanging out a mouth on Sukuna's stomach. Your head fell back against the floor with a small thump and you moaned softly. Right, you thought, monster... demon or whatever. You couldn’t find the strength to worry about it, though, since it lapped at the nub, sending pleasant shock waves up your spine while Sukuna split you open on his dick. It wasn't too long after that he finally bottomed out, holding you still as you squirmed to try to get used to him inside you.
"What'd I tell you?" Sukuna asked, snapping his hips one good time and smirking when you cried out in pleasure, "You take it just fine, my little whore."
That thrust was the first of many, and soon he was pulling out all the way to the tip before pushing inside you.
Your mouth dropped open and you couldn’t keep the moans from leaving your mouth. After the first few thrusts, the drag of his cock inside you felt amazing, and you moved your hips in small circles against the tongue. You grabbed his forearms, trying to ground yourself while giving you leverage to thrust against him as well, chasing your pleasure. Sukuna let out a growl, placing one of his hands against your lower stomach and effectively pinning you down. His hips slowed to a stop as he looked down at you.
“And what do you think you’re doing, little one?”
You whined, wiggling against his hold. “Sukuna, please move.”
“Fucking yourself on my cock? What a desperate little thing you are.” Two of his hands moved to your hips while the other two circled behind your back, pulling you up. Your chest pressed against his as he sat back on his thighs. As he moved, you looked down to see the tongue returned back into its mouth.
You looked at Sukuna curiously, moving your hands to grip his shoulders. “But I thought you wanted me to give myself to you?”
“No,” his grip on your hips tightened, slowly lifting you off his cock until only a little was still inside you, “I said I wanted to fuck you.”
With that, he pulled you down on him, making you ride him faster than he was currently fucking you. Although, to say you were riding him would imply you had any control in the matter. He was using you like you were a sextoy, thrusting into you without any abundance or regard to you at all. It seemed like the loud moans were just a plus to him. He pushed another bruising kiss against your lips, drinking in your moans.
You wrapped your arms around him, hoping that your grip on him would keep you in control when you felt another orgasm building, but Sukuna might just be trying to fuck the sense out of you. He swapped out his quick thrusts for slower, harsher ones, thrusting in you and rolling his hips, molding himself against your pulsing walls. Your body tensed and without thinking, you sink your teeth into Sukuna’s shoulder. He groaned as his hips stuttered, thrusting out of rhythm for a second before he resumed.
“How cheeky,” he smirked, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck, wrapping around it harshly and yanking you off of him. “And here I was, thinking I’d treat you nicely.”
You didn’t think two or three slow thrusts would qualify as being ‘treated nicely’, but your mind was miles away at that point. His rapid thrusts returned, and when his hand covered the loud moans escaping your mouth, you knew he planned to finish himself off without any more distractions. You wondered if you should move against him, attempt to speed up the process, but considering his earlier reaction to you rutting against him, you didn’t think that was wise. Besides, considering how he didn’t even want to hear you moan, you figured you were all out of favor, so you had no choice but to take it.
Satisfied with your submission, Sukuna loudly growled. He threw his head back at the feeling of shooting his cum inside you, filling you up as you screamed against his hand. Just as he coated your walls with his cum, you could feel his other dick let out a stream of cum against your ass and back.
He held you still, pulling you flush against him as he used you to ride out his orgasm, a pleased hum rumbling in his chest as he felt you quiver. Your body started to ache almost immediately, and it didn’t help that he kept you sitting on his cock with no sign of moving whatsoever.
“U-uh, Sukuna?” Your throat itched uncomfortably as you tried to talk. A bath and a cup of warm tea definitely had your name on them. Sukuna certainly wasn’t going to take care of you.
He shushed you, a sharpened nail running up and down your spine. “I just gave you a gift, little one, it’s best you don’t waste it.”
Despite your better judgment, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to relax. Letting Sukuna use you was as physically taxing as you expected it would be, and if he planned to repeat this certain act, you were going to need all the rest you could possibly get.
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loveanoutcast · 3 years
Note
ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-
Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀
only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader
Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D
Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-
"Assumptions."
Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader
TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old
Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane
It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.
That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"
Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.
He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.
You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.
The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.
"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"
You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.
"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."
Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.
"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.
"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"
You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.
"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.
All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.
"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?
Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.
"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."
"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."
You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.
You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.
"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.
"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.
Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.
"Help! Someone call a doctor!"
The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.
"Sir, let me see."
"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"
"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.
"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."
"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.
"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.
"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.
"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.
You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.
"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."
Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.
"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."
"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.
"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."
"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.
"Don't mention it."
"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.
The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.
"Are you a nurse or something?"
"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."
The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."
"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"
Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.
"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"
"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.
You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."
However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."
Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.
When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.
The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.
"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."
"Where's the guy?"
"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."
Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,
"What happened to your face?"
The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."
"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.
He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."
He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.
You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.
"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."
Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.
"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"
You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.
"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"
"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."
It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.
"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."
Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.
You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.
His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.
"Who's got you turning red brat?"
"Uh-it's nothing, captain."
He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.
"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."
"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.
"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.
You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."
"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."
"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.
"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"
"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."
Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.
Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.
It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.
Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.
You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.
It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.
Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.
It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.
"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.
"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.
He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.
"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.
As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.
"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.
"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."
"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."
You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,
"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."
Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,
"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."
"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.
"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."
You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."
Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.
"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"
When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.
"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."
"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.
"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."
"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.
"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."
You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.
"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."
"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.
"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."
"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."
You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.
"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."
"So he's charming?"
You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.
Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.
"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,
"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.
"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.
"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."
You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.
"So why haven't you told him?"
You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."
You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.
"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.
"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"
Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."
You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.
"What?"
"You're so fucking dense, Eren."
"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."
You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."
"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"
"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.
"Shallow." He spit out.
"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.
"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,
"We what, Eren?"
"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.
"Eren...come here."
"No, I should g-"
"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.
"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."
It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,
"Do you maybe feel the same way?"
You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.
When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."
You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."
The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.
"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.
The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."
He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.
The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.
A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-
"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."
His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.
"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.
Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.
"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."
Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.
One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.
You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.
You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.
"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."
His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.
"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.
Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.
"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.
"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.
He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.
"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.
Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.
"Please what baby?"
"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.
You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.
"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."
He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.
"With me."
You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.
Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.
"Hmm, right there princess?"
You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.
"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."
"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"
Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.
"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."
"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.
"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.
The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.
Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.
"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"
"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."
Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.
The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.
His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.
"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.
"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.
"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.
You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,
"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.
Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.
His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.
"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.
You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.
He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.
You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"
"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.
You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.
"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"
They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.
"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.
"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."
You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.
"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."
"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.
The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.
"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.
You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.
"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"
"Sure what do you need?"
"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"
The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.
You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.
Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.
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bearriebelliejam · 3 years
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"Hit One Where One Lives"
Summary ↳ Atsumu has had feelings for you since the day you've met, and he's always had trouble controlling his urges.
Words ↳ 1,566
Tags ↳ 18+, NSFW, characters above legal age, descriptions of NSFW fantasies, no actual fucking, atsumu is horny, mentions of high school days, angst but only like a couple sentences
A/N ↳ ahh I'm so sorry this is short and got cut off, but if you guys like it and want more please lmk!!
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hit one where one lives
hit (one) where (one) lives
To affect one on a personal or intimate level.
People by nature only care about an issue if it hits them where they live.
Atsumu Miya was good at a lot of things.
Setting, spiking, serving, receiving, and bargaining for discounts on fatty tuna.
But one thing that Atsumu could never, ever bring himself to perfect was the art of conveying his feelings properly. It was something Osamu had confronted him about during their early high school years, recognizing his twin’s coping mechanism to protect him from his own self-destructive thoughts. A strained smile and bottles of bright yellow hair dye could only do so much for the rather eccentric Miya twin, something his brother had warned him would lead to burnout by his early 20’s. Atsumu, at the time, would only laugh it off, claiming that his inquisitive behavior was more stalkerish than affectionate.
This was until Atsumu had cost Inarazaki their spot in the nationals during his first year. He had never considered himself to be someone with butter fingers, in fact, he prided himself in his setting skill. Too much sometimes. Atsumu’s scalp felt raw from how his fingers dug into his hair, pulling at the obnoxiously dyed strands as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt juvenile. He was in high school now, he had no reason to be mourning over such a stupid mistake.
Atsumu flinched lightly when the cool condensation of a plastic water bottle hit his calf, feeling the Air Conditioning in the now almost empty stadium blowing against the wet spot on his leg. Maybe he was dreaming, he thought, looking into the slightly glossy eyes that bore back into his. Yep, definitely dreaming. Little did he know those eyes would be the focus of his J/O sessions for the rest of his life.
His breath caught in his throat as your rosy cheeks swelled with your smile, although empathetic. It was too much of a foreign feeling to him. You were just doing your job, being the one and the only manager of a team as arduous as Inaraziki- in the same grade as him, no less- meaning that you had to sniff out each and every demanding member. Atsumu didn’t think he could ever forget how you sat next to him that day, softly rubbing the area between his shoulder blades and whispering soft words of encouragement as you helped him pop the lid on his bottle. You admitted to him about how even though you barely knew shit about volleyball, you could tell from the way his teammates and captain regarded him after the match that it wasn’t his fault. That night, after walking you home and waving you off down your driveway, Atsumu felt a foreign feeling rising in his chest.
This feeling would only continue to grow over the next four years.
Whether it be the way you had to clutch your knees every time he made you laugh too hard, the way you’d sneak a pudding to him during the mornings where your classes lined up, or the way that you’d both pull some sort of immature prank on his disgruntled brother. It was safe to say that you two were super close. But not in the way that Atsumu wanted you to be. Alongside every little detail that made you a great friend, there were way too many details that made you desirable. That time during the summer when it got so hot that you stripped yourself of your short sleeve for a tank top that accentuated every one of your curves still keeps him up at night. Not to mention the form-fitting elastic shorts that hugged your ass so right that even the newbies on the team couldn’t help themselves from trying to sneak a peak.
This would continue up until graduation, where Atsumu opened the door to your very teary-eyed and very emotional-looking self. Your eyes were brimming with tears, and he didn’t think those delectable swollen cheeks of yours could puff out any more than they already were. With shaky hands, you lifted the slightly crumpled piece of paper up to your chest. The thick black letters of ‘MSBY’ must have grown fists and hit him in the gut because before he knew it, he was lifting you a foot off the ground with an enthusiastic spin.
--
Fluffy white cotton surrounded Atsumu’s vision as he dried his hair from the shower, letting out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of his muscles relaxing after such a long practice session. It was the off-season, and the MSBY Black Jackals were taking the time off doing what they always did. Play volleyball. Obviously not to the extent as they would during the actual season, but every moment spent not doing something productive was a second basically submitting victory to the other team. That’s how Bokuto put it at least, before ultimately spraining his wrist from going too hard on the dumbbells. Safe to say both Coach and Akaashi were not happy.
“Hey, Omi-om, you should totally let me borrow that body spray you got.” Atsumu didn’t typically wear any sort of cologne, but the way you had him bend down to your level to smell his shirt collar after Kiyoomi’s scent wafted onto him was the result of a long sleepless night for him.
“Get your own, Miya.” Kiyoomi scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw on his MSBY brand sweater. Atsumu pouted, quickly forgetting about every single one of his surroundings as he saw his phone light up with your contact name, your photo staring back at him expectantly. He had taken the photo when you had dragged him to the mall with you once, having slid a 20-yen coin into the slot of a mechanical bull riding machine. He had found it amusing at first, the way you had desperately grasped at the horns of the animal as it began to speed up, but his laughter was caught short. His eyes had trailed down your back that was arched suggestively off the saddle, hips moving with the steady bucking of the machine-
“Shit-” Snapping himself out of his erotic memory, he quickly clicked the green ‘answer call’ button. “Hello?” “Atsumu, are you almost done getting ready yet?” Your voice alone was enough to ease the tension building inside of him, shoulders relaxing as he let out a low chuckle.
“Why, missing my pretty face?” He could at least acknowledge that he only flirted with you to try and ease the urges growing inside him, he wasn’t that stupid. It was also partially because of the way the tips of your ears would redden at his sly comments, but you would always brush it off as being part of his play-boy-like personality. If only you knew how much he wanted to change that.
“I’m missing that your pretty face isn’t hurrying the hell up and getting in my goddamn car.” The teasing lilt to your voice did nothing to prevent the way his chest swelled when you called him pretty, a stupid, joyous smile spreading on his lips.
“Alright, alright, hold your horses. I’ll be right out.” You blew a raspberry into your phone, Atsumu giving one of his own before hanging up and grabbing his gym bag.
Nudging open the locker room door with his side, Atsumu had to force his dick from twitching in his shorts as he witnessed the sight in front of him. You were bent over the reception desk of the college gym, talking to the lady behind the desk as you fiddled with the heel of your stiletto. His eyes traced the way the fabric of your skirt hugged down your thighs. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. Discreetly making his way up behind you he shot the desk lady a wink with a finger over his lips, receiving a gulp and small nod from her before turning back to you.
“And that’s when I told Coach, we need to stop letting Bokuto near the equipment when he’s having one of his emo-” A dramatic squeal ended up finishing your little rant as Atsumu’s muscled arms hooked under your shoulders and yanked you off the floor. In the midst of your flailing, you caught a glimpse of bleached blonde hair in your peripherals. “Atsumu Miya set me down this instant!” Although your face was contorted in frustration, the laughter that slipped between your words disclosed your amusement.
The specific position that Atsumu had you in reminded him of one of the fantasies he had of you once. Your breath hot against his cheek as he plowed into you from behind, strong hands caressing the bulge that appeared in your stomach whenever he bottomed out. He would feel the sweaty slap of your ass against his pelvis with every harsh thrust, cries escaping your lips at the feeling.
“Atsumu?” You looked over your shoulder at the athlete in confusion. Realizing that he had spaced out, Atsumu mentally slapped himself as he smirked and set you down. “Sorry, sweetheart, got lost in thought.” He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to act casual, which was not missed by the reception lady as she grabbed her jacket and left the office, clearly sick of the flirting. A familiar smile spread across your cheeks, ears tinting in the way that made his cock twitch in his shorts, this time failing to conceal it. “Your place tonight, right?”
“You know it.” You giggled. This was going to be a long night for him.
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Words: 2,698 Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: Language, typical TWD stuff Requested by: Anonymous
Your name: submit What is this?
Daryl was frozen. In all their time fighting side by side, Rick had never seen the archer freeze. But there wasn’t time. There wasn’t time for anything. There wasn’t time for a murmur of reassurance or an argument or a second to fully grasp the reality of what was about to happen and the potential consequences. Rick took one final glance at your face, which was pale as freshly fallen snow and eerily calm. How were you so calm when you knew what was about to happen? Rick raised the blade.
Rick was suddenly in his face and although Daryl could see that he was yelling he couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in his ears, until finally Rick reached out and grabbed Daryl’s shoulders. It was like someone suddenly turned the volume back on and time sped up from the grindingly slow pace it had been crawling at.
Daryl raised his crossbow and turned, his expression pure agony, but he snapped into action and helped clear the way back to the cell block. He couldn’t really even remember the trip back or getting you inside or what Hershel had done next, what Rick had said to him, how they had moved you onto one of the beds… All he knew was that it had been chaos and now he was sitting at the side of your bunk, staring at the beads of sweat on your brow and how pale your lips looked and how your left forearm just was… gone.
Daryl sensed someone standing in the doorway and looked up to see Hershel there. Hershel had never seen Daryl look so poorly… Daryl couldn’t even come up with the right question to ask, but the veterinarian turned doctor seemed to know what was on his mind.
“We won’t know for a while. I think the amputation was fast enough, but even if we averted that crisis, she still has a lot to overcome. Succumbing to the trauma of shock or blood loss or an infection are the biggest fears now.” Daryl turned back to look at your still form and his eyes continually hitched on the stump where your left forearm should have been.
Rick appeared over Hershel’s shoulder just in time to see Daryl gently take your right hand in his. “How is she doin’?” he asked quietly. Hershel glanced over at him.
“No signs of fever so far. But we need more clean dressings, an IV, antibiotics,” Hershel murmured. “Without them I’m afraid even if she survives the shock, she’ll die of a blood infection.”
Rick nodded gravely. “Time we go find the infirmary then.” Maggie and Glenn, who were waiting nearby, stepped forward.
“We’ll go too. And if the infirmary doesn’t have what she needs, we’ll get it somewhere else,” Glenn said. Maggie nodded.
“Whatever she needs,” Maggie agreed. She glanced in at the archer and her heart ached. He was slumped over beside you, holding your hand in his like it was a lifeline.
“I’ll make you a list,” Hershel said, nodding at Rick.
Rick hesitated for a moment and then produced his handcuffs from his back pocket. Daryl looked up at the sound of the metallic clinking. He straightened up as he saw them.
“The hell are those for?” he growled.
“Daryl, we just need to be safe—”
“Nah. Ya ain’t puttin’ those on her,” he snapped.
“It’s just in case—”
“I said no!” he roared, standing up abruptly. “She ain’t turnin’! And I ain’t leavin’ her side. So, keep your damn cuffs. We don’t need ‘em.” He sank down into his chair again heavily, trembling slightly. Hershel glanced back at Rick.
“It’s alright. She’s in good hands here. Let’s get that list made up so you can go find those supplies,” Hershel said softly.
Daryl pressed your hand between his palms. It felt so small, fragile, between his own. He stared at your face for any sign of you waking but it was still. Your breathing was slow but a little shallow. He reached up and stroked his fingers gently through your hair and then rubbed your hand between his again to warm it. You felt a little cold.
He moved forward and laid his head down on his arms, your hand still clutched in his. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to go to pieces, barely containing the torrent of emotions swelling in his chest. If he’d been faster… if he’d paid more attention… this shouldn’t have happened to you. His only job was to keep you safe and he had failed. What if you never woke up? What if—Daryl’s face contorted as he could no longer stop the tears from flowing out. His shoulders shook as he gasped in heaving breaths. It was his fault this had happened to you. It was his fault.
“Daryl.” Carol’s voice was gentle and soft from the doorway and the archer hastily wiped the tears from his face and glanced up at her. “It’s not your fault,” she said. She knew he was blaming himself.
“Ya weren’t there,” he said, sniffling a little and glancing back at your still and silent form again, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I should have been able to protect her. It is my fault.”
“These things just happen. It’s no one’s fault,” she said, watching the tortured expression on his face. Carol’s heart sank. If you didn’t wake up, she didn’t know what would happen to Daryl. The thought scared her as much as losing you did. He was so in love with you. Carol wasn’t sure he’d come back from it if you didn’t make it.
Just then there was a commotion in the room outside the cells and Carol turned to see Rick, Maggie, and Glenn rushing back with full bags slung over their shoulders. Hershel met them at the door. “We got everything on the list,” Rick said, setting his duffel bag down on the table. “And then some.”
Hershel heaved a sigh of relief. “Good. We need to get antibiotics and fluids into her system as soon as we can. She lost a lot of blood.”
Glenn pulled a big bottle out of his bag and handed it to Hershel. “Here. Some serious painkillers.”
Hershel nodded. “Good. I’ll mix up a cocktail for her right away,” he said.
Soon Hershel had you on an IV drip and he reached over and pressed a hand to your forehead. “Still no fever,” he said, catching Daryl’s blue eyes. “I think we’re in the clear from the virus. The amputation worked.” He patted Daryl on the shoulder kindly. “She’s strong. She’ll fight.”
Daryl gave your hand another gentle squeeze and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it and holding it there, his eyes fixed back on your face. “How long—how long before you think she should be waking up?” he asked, his voice thick and heavy with gravel.
Hershel looked back at you on the bunk. “It’s hard to say. She’s experienced significant trauma so her body may just need to be out for a while. And the painkillers I put in her IV will make her sleepy. It isn’t time to worry yet,” he said.
Daryl scoffed. “It’s been time to worry since I met her,” he growled, squeezing your hand gently.
Hershel gave him a sad smile. “It’s okay she’s still unconscious, son. Look,” he said nodding toward you again. “Some of the color is coming back to her face. That’s a good sign.”
Daryl studied the pinkness that was back in your lips and your cheeks and stroked a hand through your hair again. He nodded, clutching more tightly to your hand.
“You come get me if anything changes, alright?” Hershel said. And then he left Daryl alone with you again.
Daryl refused to eat or drink as day turned to night, refused to sleep, refused to leave your side for a second. He sat watch over you, his stomach churning with every passing minute you lay there still. He hung his head and pressed his lips to the back of your hand again, shutting his eyes. “Please, wake up, Y/N. Please. I need ya. I need ya…” he whispered to you, hoping with his entire being. And then he felt something. You had squeezed his hand back. His eyes shot up and he fell forward onto his knees beside you, the chair clattering back behind him. Your eyes were open and they met his.
Tears immediately filled his blue eyes. “Y/N!” he stroked your cheek with one hand and held more tightly to you with the other. “You’re awake. I’m—I’m right here. It’s okay. I’m here.”
He watched in disbelief as your lips curved slightly in a small smile as you looked up at him. “I know, babe,” you whispered.
“What do ya—how are ya feeling?”
You blinked a few times like you were thinking hard about the question. “I think I’m high,” you said, your brow furrowing slightly. Daryl’s eyes narrowed at your answer. “Am I on some good painkillers?” you asked.
Daryl nodded. “Ya. I’m glad they’re working.” He stroked his fingers through your hair again and watched with apprehension as you turned and looked at the bandages on your left arm. He watched a shadow grow on your face and your brow furrow. Daryl felt like a bubble that had been expanding in his chest burst suddenly. Tears poured out onto his cheeks again. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t keep ya safe. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” He hung his head again, trying to gasp in a breath.
You looked back over at him in shock. “Hey.” You squeezed his hand again when he wouldn’t look at you. “Daryl. Look at me.” You waited until he lifted his blue eyes again. “There is no way in hell that this is your fault.” He tried to look away again but you tugged on his hand. “I mean it. It just happened. You don’t get to claim any blame for it. None. Okay?” He sniffled but he held your eyes.
A few more tears leaked out of his eyes and he anxiously chewed his bottom lip. “I—I thought I was gonna lose ya,” he whispered, pressing your hand between his palms again. He looked down at it and smoothed his fingers over the soft skin on the back of your hand. “I thought—” he broke off, unable to even speak the horrible thoughts that had consumed him since you were bitten.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “You’re stuck with me.”
Daryl was amazed at the small smile on your lips again and his heart hammered like it was trying to get to you. He leaned forward, cupping your face gently, and pressed a kiss to that little smile. He rested his forehead against yours for a brief moment. You sighed and shut your eyes, breathing in his familiar smell, loving the safety of his closeness. The archer finally pulled back and righted his chair beside your bed again. “Rest,” he said softly. “I’m gonna tell Hershel you’re awake.” He got up to find him, but you squeezed his hand again and he glanced back at you.
“You have to promise me that you will try to let go of the guilt,” you said. The smile was gone and there was concern on your face. You were lying in a bed missing half your arm and you were concerned about him. How the hell did he deserve you? He was almost overwhelmed with emotion again, but he nodded.
“I promise,” he said. “I’ll try.” He leaned over you and captured your lips in another kiss. “Rest, alright? I’ll be right back.”
You released his hand and turned your eyes to the bandages again. It had all happened so fast, and none of it felt real yet. It was like you were in a dream and would wake up at any second. The implications weren’t even occurring to you yet. Daryl was in the forefront of your mind. You knew he was likely to torture himself over this, despite the fact that it could have happened to anyone. It was just a risk of living in the world now. You felt lucky that the only thing you had lost was your arm, and yet at the same time you knew you would need to grieve it. But for now, you needed to know that Daryl wouldn’t blame himself.
He returned with Hershel, who immediately smiled at you when he saw your eyes open. He came and sat at your bedside while Daryl lingered in the doorway, chewing his bottom lip as was his anxious habit. “How are you feeling? How is the pain?” Hershel asked you.
“Pain is fine,” you said. “I’m just tired.”
Hershel put a kind hand on your shoulder. “I think we’ve turned the corner,” he said. “But you’re going to need to rest and give yourself time to heal. I don’t want you up and about for another day or two. You lost a lot of blood, and we need to make sure we keep that are infection free.” You nodded.
“Where’s Rick?” you asked, glancing at Daryl in the doorway.
The familiar drawl answered. “Right here,” he said, appearing over Daryl’s shoulder. You looked up at the lean man and saw he looked completely exhausted.
Your brow furrowed. “You look like shit,” you said, causing everyone to chuckle, even Daryl. “Thanks. For what you did,” you said quietly. “For saving my life or whatever,” you said with a small smile. Your eyelids were starting to droop a little, sleep waiting to take hold.
Rick patted Daryl on the shoulder and nodded at you. “Anything for you and Daryl. Anything.”
“Alright, she needs rest now,” Hershel said, getting up and motioning for Rick to clear out with him. “Get some sleep.”
Daryl moved back to your bedside as Hershel and Rick left and sank down onto the chair, immediately taking your hand between his again.
“What are you doing over there?” you asked him. He gave you a questioning look.
“How am I supposed to sleep with you so far away?” You turned onto your side, wincing a little as you moved your injured arm, but you cleared space beside you and looked up at the archer with a look he couldn’t resist, even if he had wanted to.
He carefully climbed onto the bed beside you, moving a strand of hair out of your eyes and stroking his thumb lightly over your cheek. You were facing each other and he could see you studying his face. You smiled at him, just a small, sleepy one. “Now I can sleep,” you whispered.
He pressed a kiss to your lips and tried to put everything he was thinking and feeling into it. When he drew back, your eyes flitted open again. “We’re gonna be just fine. You always take care of me,” you murmured to him.
He nodded. “And I always will.” And with that reassurance, you drifted off to sleep with your favorite person in the world beside you.
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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years
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Not Her
Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Parings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Klaus Mikaelson & Bestfriend!Reader
Word count: 2.1 K
Author’s note: Welcome to day two of Angst Week. This gif had been submitted by the lovely @dumble-daddy and was a part of the 1500k follower challenge. It’s late but, it’s here. At least I'm not reaching another milestone soon. 🤣
Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things!
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Even though the last few months had been filled with numerous foes that dare chose to take a stand against the Mikaelsons, they had been able to handle it. They managed to defeat each one that came their way as they always did: together. But nothing could have prepared them for the fight that was brought to them today. Nor were they prepared for the aftermath. 
The Mikaelsons had been separated and it was then that the enemy had chosen to strike. For if they weren’t faced with the whole family, there was a better chance to take them down. While Klaus, Rebekah and Hayley had been on one side of the city, Elijah, Y/N and Freya had been on the opposite end. A trail of clues leading them into an ambush. 
While it had been unexpected, they managed to stick to their quickly thrown together plan. Take down the enemy and those that were alive by then would be questioned. As long as the Mikaelsons stuck to that, they’d always come out on top. At least, it always had before that. 
Klaus stood in the courtyard of the compound, a glass of liquor in his hand. He stood there with pride as he brought the glass up to his lips and took a drink from it. Taking the lives of those that stood against him was no doubt the best part of the day. The blood that lingered on his clothes served as a reminder that Klaus Mikaelson wasn’t someone to be tried with. 
The smug smile that played on his lips never faltered. If anything it grew from time to time at the sounds of the screams that came from the cellar. Both Rebekah and Hayley worked as quickly as possible to get whatever information out of their last living pawn from the fight. Today had merely been child’s play to the three of them compared to several other moments in their lifetime. 
Even as he heard the familiar footsteps of his brother approaching the compound, his smile had only grown to a smirk. Surely if they had managed to succeed, the other half of his siblings would have succeeded as well. He poured himself another glass, his back turned to Elijah as he did so. 
“I’d say today was a successful a-” Klaus’s words had been cut short as he turned to face his brother. 
Elijah stopped not too far from the entryway, his eyes locked on his brother. Much like Klaus, his suit had been stained by the blood that covered him. There were rips along the suit jacket, some even exposing his ripped button up. From what Klaus could see, the others had a rougher time with the enemy. 
Klaus could easily see that some of the blood that covered Elijah’s neck had been his own. The bite mark on his neck had been a source for some of the current wounds present on his brother. One that Klaus knew Elijah would eventually heal from with time. But it was the other stains of blood on Elijah that had bothered Klaus the most. 
The brothers had been in several fights. Against several others and even against each other. But no matter who the fight was with, Klaus had never seen Elijah this covered in blood before. It was the stain that looked as if someone had been bleeding out as he carried someone, that raised the most alarms in Klaus. 
And as Klaus took in his appearance, Elijah couldn’t get a single word to form on his lips. The pain he felt from the wolf bite was nothing in comparison to the emotional whirlwind that was raging inside of him. There was disbelief, heartache, and grief all mixed in with each other. He wasn’t sure where one emotion ended and the other began. And yet, on the outside Elijah was quiet, as if thinking on how he should say what was on his mind.
Elijah knew there was nothing he could have done. His vampire abilities couldn’t do anything to prevent it. The speed he had been so used to had been fast enough. The strength he had couldn’t prevent his foes from reaching the one person he swore he would always protect. His blood rendered useless as he tried to heal her. 
His heart ached at the thought. How human he felt in that moment. How helpless he had been to stop any of it. He could easily play out every scenario on how he could have done something differently. But nothing his mind conjured up came with a happy ending. 
It was as the brothers’ eyes met that Elijah felt the dam within him collapse to pieces and the first set of tears began to fall. Through those tears, Elijah had been able to Klaus’s facial features turn from the smug look he had from victory, to worry for his brother, followed by the realization of what Elijah’s silent actions had meant.
Klaus’s eyes immediately went to the entryway, looking for Y/N. Surely if his brother had returned, she wouldn’t have been too far behind. But even his enhanced hearing couldn’t pick up on her footsteps, nor the familiar sound of her playful laughter he had grown used to after a fight such as this one. 
“Tell me Y/N is just out with Freya somewhere.” Klaus said as he shook his head slightly. 
Y/N and Klaus had been close friends for several centuries. It was that friendship that had led to the introduction of his best friend and brother. A match made in heaven that couldn’t be separated. And as the years went on, Y/N became his official sister and the three of them had been closer than ever.
Elijah’s head quickly shook at his brother’s words. “We couldn’t save her.” After a short pause he continued. “I couldn’t save her.”
Klaus took in his brother’s words and began shaking his head. “What happened?” He asked through clenched teeth. 
“They had wolves on their side.” Elijah looked away from his brother as he began to explain. As he did, he tried keeping his emotions in check. But losing his wife had killed him and the guilt that filled him from not being able to save Y/N had almost suffocated him. “She was fine one moment, taking them down with ease. Freya was prepared to do the spell, until something went wrong. The next time I see Y/N she’s being bitten. Not once, but several times. Seeing her had distracted me. I was bitten as Itried to get to her. By the time I managed to dispose of the wolf, I heard Freya screaming her name.”
Elijah shook his head. The fresh memories are too hard to even put into words. The details that followed, he had still been processing himself. How could one so easily explain the horrific events that he hadn’t been able to stop himself?
Seeing the struggle within his brother, Klaus walked over to Elijah and placed his hands on the sides of Elijah’s neck, for if he could enter his brother’s mind, Elijah wouldn’t have to say a single word. All he would have to do was show Klaus what he saw. 
Blood ran down Y/N’s chin and neck from the wolves she had easily killed. She was careful to avoid their bites several times throughout the fight. Y/N had the upper hand with each one that came at her. At least that was until she felt the dart of vervain hit her thigh. 
Growing weaker, the wolves had taken advantage. Even though Y/N had fought a few others off, ripping their hearts out in the process, it was the others that bit into her. With Vervain and werewolf venom pumping through her veins, Y/N knew she was running out of time and strength. 
“Any day now, Freya!” She called out in between grunts as she killed another. 
“Almost there.” Freya called out in return as she kept her eyes on the spell. she just needed a few more moments. 
Elijah could hear it in Y/N’s voice that something was wrong. The attention he had on the wolves before him had been lost as he looked over at Y/N and watched as she pulled the dart out of her skin. But the moment she had it free, another had been shot into her back. 
“Y/N!” Elijah called, about to make his way over to her when a wolf jumped on Elijah. While Elijah fought it off, it hadn’t been before he had gotten bitten. Once the creature had been lifeless, he had gotten up off of the ground, his eyes searching for Y/N. 
He found her standing back up, the dart no longer in her back as a whine from a wolf filled the air. Y/N’s hand had been shoved into the wolf’s chest before pulling it’s heart out quickly. Elijah watched as a smirk began to pull at her lips. At least that was until he watched the look of pain formed on her face. 
Her hands automatically went to her chest, attempting to find the source of the pain that radiated through her chest. As she looked down, she saw the protruding sharp end of the stake poking out of her chest. Blood began seeping through the wound and it wasn’t hard to miss on the gray shirt she wore. 
“No!” Elijah yelled out the same time as Freya had done the same. 
They both hadn’t seen the woman coming up on Y/N, nor did they see the stake she held in her hand. And it wasn’t long after that the woman was gone as well, taking what remained of the pack with her. 
Elijah moved quickly to catch Y/N before she fell to the ground. He took her in his arms and the moment he had, Y/N had smiled up at him. There were so many thoughts running through his head in that moment, but nothing wanted to be spoken. 
Elijah knew he couldn’t heal her. Not with the way the ashen veins began crawling up her body. She didn’t have the same abilities as he did. For she had been turned a century later and was vulnerable to any wooden stake. There was no way he could save her and he hated himself for it.  
His eyes met hers as he shook his thoughts away, wanting to be there for her in her final moments. “Forgive me.” He said as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. 
Y/N’s head shook slightly as she looked up at him. She was growing weaker by the second as death claimed her. But she wasn’t going to let Elijah feel like it was his fault. She brought her trembling hand up to his face, a small smile forming once more as he leaned into her touch. 
“I love you.” The words had come out as a whisper. But Y/N knew that Elijah had heard them clearly. 
She wanted to make sure that if she was going at any second, that those would have been the last thing he heard from her. Not the worry she had felt at the beginning of the ambush. Not the fear that she voiced when Freya’s spell hadn’t been done in time. She wanted and needed him to hear the love she felt for him in her dying voice. 
The words had only lingered in the air a split of a second before her hand fell to her side and the ashen grey had overtaken her face. 
Klaus pulled his hands away from his brother as he took in the memory. His best friend was gone and just as Elijah had said, there was no way to save her. Even if Elijah had gotten to her moments before he had, there would have been nothing he could have done. 
The vervain in her system had left her senses weakend, including her hearing. She was no match for the enemy that snuck up on her. No amount of blood would have stopped death from taking her in the mere seconds it had taken for Elijah to reach her before she took her last breath. Klaus knew that guilt would live within his brother for some time. 
It was then that Klaus pulled his brother into a hug. A way to comfort him even though he himself had been in disbelief that Y/N was gone. It was a way for them to rely on each other in a moment of grief. For the person they’ve loved the longest besides family, had been taken away from them. 
Tonight, they would grieve. 
Tomorrow, they’d take down the enemy together before putting Y/N to rest. 
Always and Forever Tags:
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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
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Louder, Bitch
A/N: So for those who liked Fuck You Better, I think this makes a great sequel to that fic! (But it can also be read as a standalone.) Based on the below request – in which Jax wants you to be loud during sex, to let everyone know just how good you’re getting fucked 😏 Note: As mentioned in some of my recent posts, my plan is to alternate posting fics like this, from my Main Request List, with fics for my 500 Followers Kinkfest!
Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, super loud sex, in the kitchen, with an audience (listening but not actually watching), dom!Jax Request: This awesome anon request!
Word Count: ~1.8k
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“Can’t we just go to your place?” you beg.
“Babe, we’ve already fucked a hundred times on every surface,” Jax reminds you as he drives his bike up to the front of your apartment complex. You two have only been officially together for a few days, but it’s true. “Need to stake my claim to you on your turf, too.”
The Harley pulls up to a stop; you groan, reluctant to step off. “Ugh—fine, just go ahead and talk about me like a piece of meat you own. I guess that’s nothing new...”
“Well, you sure seem to dig it when I fuck you like one,” Jackson taunts, smirking since he can tell those words set fire to your cunt. He takes off your helmet, offsetting the filth with a softhearted kiss on your forehead. “Love you.”
Teasing aside, the real reason you’re stopping by is to pick up a few things you need from your apartment. You haven’t set foot back here ever since Jax Teller claimed you as his girlfriend. Been avoiding this place like the plague, ‘cause a certain somebody—your ex-fuckbuddy—just happens to be your damn roommate. 
You just pray that he’s not home today, as you head up the few flights of stairs to your floor.
“Still can’t believe you share an address with your ex,” Jax says as you quietly open the door. “This place stinks of unsatisfying sex.”
“You know he’s not really my ex, Jax. Was never my boyfriend. We just shared the rent, and hooked up now and then because it was convenient,” you mutter as you step in, feeling Jax groping your ass with eager hands. Just hoping desperately the other man’s not home to witness what’s about to happen... “Luckily the lease is up this weekend. Then we can—”
But Jax has no patience to let you finish that sentence. Slams the door shut behind him as he shoves you up against the wall and kisses you so hard that you’re incapable of speaking. You probably won’t ever see straight again.
“That’s my girl. Such a sweet little piece of meat,” he snarls, the force of his hunger and heat pushing you down the hall, toward the nearest surface where you used to eat. You try to protest that your ‘ex’ might be home, in the very next room... but Jax just doesn’t seem to care at all. “Quit your bitchin’. Think you need a good hard pounding in the kitchen.”
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***************
Ten seconds later, your man has you screaming so loud that you’re bound to be getting complaints from the neighbors. 
The whole town of Charming can probably hear. Thankfully it appears that your roommate’s not here, as you notice his keys are absent from the spot where he typically keeps them, whenever he’s in...
Of course Jax took note of the fact you were distracted for a second, checking for your ex’s keys. He isn’t pleased. Your wholehearted focus on him during sex is the one thing he always demands, fucking needs. Pulls at your pants with forceful hands, yanking them further down your knees, spanking your ass as he drives his enormous cock into your soaking wet heat.
Jax has you bent over the cold kitchen counter. Manhandling you like a damn piece of meat, taking you from behind in a pure show of alpha male power. And every delicious thrust into your tight pussy has you screaming even louder.
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Apparently not loud enough. Jax knows you like it rough. Leans down to growl pure filth into your ear, pushing your shirt up so your bare skin rubs against the rugged leather of his kutte, calling you his dirty little girl and nasty fucking slut. Ordering you to make even more noise, which happens inevitably as your body reacts to the force of his touch and his gruff, raspy voice. 
He knows this is exactly what you love. What the slut deep inside you enjoys. Getting used like his fucktoy, completely destroyed. And he loves when your screams make that clear, for the whole town to hear.
The whole town—literally everybody—and... oh shit. Suddenly there’s a sound at the door, in this moment, which you somehow notice, while you’re busy moaning like a fucking whore. The door just opened, you’re pretty sure. And it must be your goddamn ex-fuckbuddy.
Though you don’t give much of a shit what he thinks, still it just seems insulting and embarrassing, to have the guy walk in and watch and listen, while Jax hammers you to pieces in the kitchen. To have him actually hear and see you getting fucked so rough and slutty...
“J-Jax—” you gasp.
But Jax just deals your ass another brutal slap, grabbing a fistful of your hair to make you arch your back, and laughing in your ear now as he hears your breathing hitch and feels your pussy twitch.
Then he just says two words that make you want to fucking burst. His dominance feels so damn good it hurts. “Louder, bitch.”
That’s all it takes, for all your dignity and self-restraint to swiftly fade away. For you to do exactly as he says. To give in to your purpose to submit and to obey, always, while Jax keeps punishing your pussy till it breaks.
“Fuck—Jax...” you moan, as he pulls your hair firmly back, pushes his cock in farther, spanks you harder, treats you to the pleasure that only Jax Teller can give. Jax alone. For as long as you live. Reminding you and your ex and everyone else that you are his to own. 
Much of the noise that you’re making is just shouts and screams, grunts and groans. Like the soundtrack to some raunchy porno. Which Jax fucking loves. Says the sounds that you make are the stuff of wet dreams. He gets off on this stuff. Hearing you come undone as you burst at the seams, barely able to form words as you let your inner whore go.
But you know this dirty motherfucker is also a sucker for dirty talk—hearing his girl use her words to praise his big, beautiful, powerful, perfect cock. Gushing about how he gives you such pleasure, how nobody could fuck you better. Ever since you and Jax got together, you’ve been showering him with praises like that quite a lot, and it gets him so hot.
So today’s no exception. You somehow form words to effuse about how your new boyfriend is literal sex god perfection. 
“Oh my God, your cock—holy fuck... so good... ugh, yeah just like that, Jax—just fuck me like I’m nothing but your filthy little slut... God, you’re so hot... so big—so fucking big... holy shit—Jax, I live for your dick...”
It’s not as if your former fuckbuddy was small—no, not at all—but, well... compared to Jax, every man is. So you’re just being honest, even if it sounds mean as hell. It’s not your intention to be mean about it, but now that you have Jax’s dick... you just can’t live without it. And Jax wants your ex and the whole world to know that, so nobody will ever doubt it.
Surely by now, there is no fucking doubt. Not when you’re being so fucking loud.
This whole time your ex seems to have stayed in the foyer, clearly within earshot but out of the way. Not so close as to actually witness.
You may not be mean-spirited... but Jax is. Just a little bit. He and your ‘ex’ have just a little bit of history, a little bit of business. 
So between the dirty words that he relentlessly growls down into your ear, you hear him call out to the man who’d walked in unannounced. “Bet you fucking miss this!”
It’s a proud, territorial, alpha male shout. With a sick, savage smirk of a smile. Jax Teller’s classic style. And all the while, he keeps on ferociously fucking your brains out, right here in the other man’s house.
As his cock keeps on pounding you into the counter, the both of you keep shouting louder and louder...
And soon the front door just slams shut. Your ex-fuckbuddy clearly had heard quite enough. Feels no need to stay here and listen, while somebody hotter and bigger and better—Jackson Fucking Teller: the only man you’ll ever want, ever love—ravages your tight wet cunt in this kitchen. His kitchen. All filthy and rough. Making sure the whole world knows that you are his slut.
Jax stakes his final claim, by filling you up with his thick hot cum as you repeatedly, heatedly scream out his name. Keeping his massive dick inside you as he leans down over your trembling body to engulf you in the warmth of his kutte, in the glow of his love. Kisses tender and soft, to help ease you down from how explosively you both just came.
So that just happened, on the kitchen counter here in this apartment, for which you and your ‘ex’ are still both paying rent... and you seriously have no fucking shame. Just to please your man, you would honestly do it all over again.
Jax seems to read your mind, still buried deep inside you from behind. “Damn. Babe, that was awesome,” he sighs as he traces the sex-hazy smile on your lips with the tip of his thumb. “So, um... you said the lease is up this weekend?”
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, your senses still totally buzzing and numb. Struck dumb, from being so full of his cum, and just how much you love him.
“Guess that leaves just a few dozen other surfaces for us to get our freak on,” he muses aloud, taking stock of the territory that he has to conquer by the weekend. “You know I gotta stake my claim before your pretty ass officially moves out.”
Can’t help but laugh, though laughing hurts when he just fucked your cunt in half. But it’s so worth it. Fucking perfect. Pain is pleasure, with Jax Teller. “What, you got some kind of kink for fucking me in my own house...?” you ask although you know the answer. Your badass biker boyfriend is a territorial alpha male bastard.
“Hey—this is my house now,” he claims, playful yet seriously proud. Picking you up and then spreading you out across the dining room table like a piece of meat for him to fucking eat. Already all set for a second round. “Let’s give the neighbors something to complain about...”
Oh, yes sir, you think in silence as he throws you down, ready for yet another round of perfectly painful pleasure, as your man goes to town and fucks your goddamn brains out.
Jax Teller has only one order, as he settles in to fuck you even harder. As if there was ever a doubt. “Bitch, better be fucking loud.”
***************
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littlemisspascal · 3 years
Text
Death and an Angel part 13
Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader
Summary: Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.
“You should know though, you might not like what you see.”
Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”
Rating: T
Word Count: 5,958
Warnings: angst, swearing, character death (canonical, but with my own twist), made up planet name that is ridiculous, dialogue heavy, plot plot plot, backstory
Author Note: Good lord this is soooo late coming out. To anyone who sent me an encouraging message I am beyond grateful because I really needed the encouragement to finish this segment. I hope more than anything this segment gives more answers than it raises questions (although reading your theories is both awesome and entertaining so keep them coming too!)
Links to Part 1 and Part 12 and Part 14
Cross-posted on AO3.
Photo Inspiration:
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“Who the fuck is Moff Gideon?”
Ahsoka looks at Din, her brow furrowed deeply. He’s seen the expression on her face enough times to recognize its meaning: this is the face she makes when she is about to reveal a message directly from the universe itself. As an Oracle, she is the only immortal who can glimpse details of the past, present, and future. She has a soft spot for mortals, sharing the few precious snippets the universe allows her to with them in the forms of riddles and vague prophecies that never fail to give Din a migraine with their crypticness when he hears them.
“Moff Gideon is a Seraph who grew discontent with his position amongst immortals,” she says at last.
“Is he the one responsible for keeping my soulmate from me?” he asks, voice as harsh and unforgiving as the environment surrounding them.
“He is responsible for many sins.”
“I don’t have time for your vague answers,” he growls, hands twisting into fists. “You tell me not to kill this Seraph, then in the next breath claim he’s a threat. I am not a mortal who will be entertained by riddles, Ahsoka. You summoned me here to talk, so start talking. Tell me what you know.”
The Oracle’s mouth purses into a thin line. Nearly a full minute passes before she speaks again. When she does, the calmness is no longer natural, but forced. “Telling you what I know would be impossible.”
“Ahsoka—”
“But,” she pitches her voice higher than his protest while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly, “I am capable of showing you. You should know though, you might not like what you see.”
Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”
She reaches forward, pressing her index and middle fingers to the center of his visor. If not for his helmet, she’d be touching the space directly between his eyes and instinct tells him the positioning isn’t random.
“We’ll start at the beginning,” she says, but her voice has changed from its usual cadence. It is ancient and youthful, a harsh scream and a hushed whisper all at once.
Din has only the slightest of seconds to process this in addition to the way her facial markings start to glow and her eyes flash white before he finds himself standing in the midst of a crisis.
There is mass hysteria every direction he turns. People screaming in terror, pushing each other and tripping over those who have fallen in their haste to flee an unseen threat; whole buildings are crumbling, sending flaming debris and shards of glass raining down upon the streets as smoke billows into the sky. The edges of his field of view are blurred, like he’s looking at everything through someone’s glasses, and it creates an ache behind his eyeballs. Fuck, is this what it’s like for Ahsoka when she experiences visions?
‘You remember the Fall of Mandalore, don’t you, Death?’ Ahsoka’s voice resonates from deep inside his brain, as if she’s fused her consciousness with his.
His jaw tightens when he says, “Of course.”
‘Oh, look. There you are.’
Sure enough, when Din looks forward he sees himself moving swiftly through the crowd, unaffected by the chaos as he stoops to reap the soul of a woman who’s had her skull caved in by the stampede of frantic civilians. He wonders how many others can say they’ve had an out-of-body-experience such as what he’s dealing with right now: reliving a traumatic event all over again while observing himself the same way a stranger would from a distance.
“Why are you showing me this?”
‘Because it’s important,’ Ahsoka answers, and the image of her frowning face enters his mind unbiddenly. ‘The universe has a plethora of endings imagined for every civilization, but it is the individual choices of the community that act as stepping stones bringing them closer to a specific fate.’
“Mandalore was always meant to fall apart. It was just a matter of how, not when,” he surmises, voice devoid of emotion. His words are punctuated by another fiery blast from a nearby complex, followed by an ear-piercing wall of a terrified child.
‘Precisely. But the same cannot be said for an individual’s lifespan. There are consequences if someone perishes before their time has come. You should know that better than anyone.’ There is a hint of accusation thinly veiled in her tone that has his body tensing reflexively.
His location shifts, shapes and colors mixing together without warning before another scene gradually comes into focus. It’s a large chamber with sparse furnishings, but its beauty is tarnished by the copious amounts of glass littering the room as every single one of the ornately designed windows have been shattered from the force of the explosions outside. Din knows before he even lays eyes on the throne he’s inside the royal palace because he first sees the familiar face of his most trusted reaper standing next to a blond-haired woman. Both women have such strikingly similar facial features nobody who sees them side by side can have any doubt they are related.
Whereas Bo-Katan dons gray-and-blue armor with a jetpack strapped to her back and two blaster pistols holstered at her sides, her sister, Satine, wears a garnet colored dress with a gold belt wrapped around her slender waist. In this moment, the sisters differ from each other as much as night and day; one a military leader, the other a pacifistic duchess.
“You need someone here to protect you. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and it isn’t safe for you to be alone,” Bo-Katan argues, crossing her arms over her chest as if to intimidate her sister into submitting.
“Our people are scared and defenseless, Bo. They need your protection during this crisis more than I currently do,” Satine says, voice soft but firm in a way only those deeply involved in politics can master.
Bo-Katan glances out the broken windows at the burning city, stubborn loyalty to protect her sister warring with her duty to protect her people. “Then at least send a message to Obi-Wan to come here.”
Satine shakes her head. “Bo—”
“I know things are strained between you two right now—”
“That’s a glaring understatement.”
“—but he’s one of our best and most loyal guards. He’s proven more than a dozen times he’ll fight anyone who’s a threat to you.”
“I don’t need the reminder of what he’s done for me.”
Bo-Katan places a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezes it when she says, “He’s the only one other than myself I trust to protect you if you were to encounter danger.”
“Just because I’m committed to peace does not mean I am incapable of looking after myself.” Satine reaches behind herself to detach a weapon that had been clipped to the back of her belt. She clicks a button on its hilt, emitting a white blade shining brightly like a beacon amongst the dark clouds of smoke tainting the air.
Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Is that…?”
‘The Lightsaber of Mandalore,’ Ahsoka confirms. ‘Made by the Armorer herself.’
The Armorer is deeply respected by both mortals and immortals alike. As the goddess of metalworking and blacksmiths, there is nothing she cannot forge and infuse with grand powers. However, she is exceedingly cautious about choosing who is a recipient of her creations.
Din is one such recipient, having been given his armor of pure beskar when the Armorer realized how dangerous his touch was to mortals. He remains eternally grateful for the gift not only because it prohibits unwanted physical contact, but also because it is invulnerable to damage or rust like other types of armor. Ahsoka’s dual sabers were also made in the Armorer’s forge, specifically designed for the Oracle’s grip alone and meant to protect her during her journeys throughout the galaxy, but in contrast to the white blade of the Lightsaber, the blades of Ahsoka’s weapons matched the same blue coloring as the stripes on her lekku and montrals.
According to the legends Din’s heard, the Armorer created the Lightsaber for the first ruler of Mandalore because she was impressed with their culture and strong military, and it was passed on to each new heir to the throne over the centuries. When wielded in battle, the Lightsaber made the user invincible against enemy attacks as it siphoned off energy from the souls of those it sliced through.
Throughout the long history of Mandalore, Satine was distinguished as the only ruler to avoid warfare as she sincerely believed negotiations and treaties could solve any problem quicker than bloodshed.
As such, Din isn’t surprised when Bo-Katan raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you wouldn’t use the Lightsaber even to cut a piece of fruit.”
Satine sighs through her nose, sheathing the weapon once more. “Fine. I’ll contact Obi the second you’re gone.”
“You better.” Bo-Katan leans forward, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. A gesture of affection within their culture. “I’ll see you soon.”
And then she’s gone, flying out the nearby window and diving straight into the fray. As a mortal and as a reaper, the redhead is fearless in the face of danger. Some might consider the behavior reckless, but Din’s always been impressed by her dogged tenacity to achieve victory no matter the difficulty of her mission.
Din looks back at Satine. Now that she is alone in the room, she is able to freely express her distress at the unfolding situation, looking as if she’s aged ten years within the blink of an eye. She fiddles with the comlink around her wrist, seeming hesitant to call this Obi-Wan fellow like she agreed to.
‘They haven’t realized it, but they’re soulmates, ’ Ahsoka murmurs, low and melancholic. Hearing it makes Din’s chest constrict with unease. ‘They fought recently and parted ways upset with each other. Unfortunately, she dies before they can resolve their miscommunication.’
The next sequence of events play out startlingly quick, as if Ahsoka has chosen to suddenly jump forward in time. His eyes struggle to absorb the fleeting details—the doors to the throne room being blown open; a Seraph in black armor emerging from the smoke; his voice is unique, velvety and thorny at the same time, as he addresses the duchess by her full name Satine Kryze; Satine attempting to stall as she subtly taps at her comlink, only for the tactic to fail as the foe teleports closer, eliminating the space between them.
“You have something I want,” he tells her, seizing hold of her throat. “You may think you have some idea of what you have in your possession, but you do not.”
One of Satine’s hands claws at his face, attempting to gouge out his eyeballs with her nails, while the other reaches for the Lightsaber. Her fingertips brush against its metal hilt just as he throws her to the floor. The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, eliciting a strangled gasp, and shards of glass dig into her exposed skin, dotting the pale flesh with beads of blood.
Gideon—Din doesn’t need Ahsoka’s input to know this, for who else could the Seraph be but him?—places the heel of his boot over Satine’s neck. He doesn’t apply pressure yet, but the action in itself has the duchess squirming with panic, hitting at his leg futilely. There is a red light on the comlink flashing insistently, indicating someone on the other end is speaking but they’ve been muted.
“Give me the asset I seek.”
Through clenched teeth, Satine wheezes, “It belongs to Mandalore.”
“I thought you might say that,” Gideon replies, feigning disappointment. “However, in case you haven’t noticed Duchess,” he gestures towards the windows, “Mandalore is dead. My accomplices have made sure of that.”
“You’re a coward for hiding behind others. You don’t deserve the Lightsaber.”
There is a sudden change in the atmosphere, air turning impossibly frigid and crisp.
“I deserve it more than anyone,” Gideon says, angry enough he is trembling. The Seraph’s stance shifts, and although Din has witnessed every type of brutal death imaginable, he flinches at the sound of Satine’s neck snapping beneath his heel.
Gideon rolls her lifeless body over and rips the Lightsaber off her belt, a satisfied smirk on his face. He disappears as quickly as he arrived, reward in hand, and an eerie silence envelops the room. It’s almost as if the palace itself is stunned by the loss of its ruler, struggling to make sense of the merciless act of violence.
Time skips forward again, showing a young bearded-man dressed in military armor clutching at Satine’s body, pressing his forehead against hers as he weeps. Over and over he keeps murmuring apologies for not being quicker, for failing to be there when she needed him, for never saying he loved her.
“How do you know Satine and Obi-Wan are soulmates if they never matched?” Din asks, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment despite not actually being there.
He thinks of a similarly phrased question he’d asked his angel on their way to Sorgan what feels like entire lifetimes ago: how will I know it’s my soulmate? Her eloquent response remains embedded deep in his memory, safely stored away along with every other moment they’ve spent together. Longing twists like a knife in his side as he allows himself a second of weakness to look at the soulmate marking on his palm.
‘I saw the life they were going to share,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘Satine Kryze was not meant to die here. She and Obi-Wan should have both survived the Fall of Mandalore, settling down happily with each other elsewhere in the galaxy. Gideon’s greed altered their destinies.’
The palace fades away to reveal a much older Obi-Wan, gray-haired and wrinkled. He’s in Mos Eisley; Din recognizes the crowded spaceport instantly having taken his ship there for repairs numerous times over the years.
‘The universe puts a lot of effort into making sure soulmates match with each other at a very precise moment. Even if the match is rejected, the individuals still had an important impact on each other’s lives. Timing is the most important factor for a soulmate pairing, and if it’s off then the universe will attempt to fix it.’
Obi-Wan stops to help a woman who’s accidentally dropped her shopping bag, contents spilling out onto the sandy ground. She thanks him as he offers her a polite smile, both of their attentions on each other’s faces and not their hands. More specifically: their marked hands. There is the barest brush of their fingertips as they reach for the same item before an invisible blast of energy erupts from their touch, splitting them apart and sending every person and thing surrounding them flying in all directions.
The shock on Obi-Wan’s face matches Din’s own beneath his helmet. He remembers his angel telling him after the failed match with Omera what happened on Sorgan wasn’t the first time an event like that occurred, but she hadn’t been privy to the details. Her superior had told her she wasn’t high enough ranking which Din had thought sounded like a load of bantha shit at the time.
“Ahsoka, what is the meaning of this?” Din asks the questions quietly, but there’s an audible coating of frustration that he knows she won’t miss. “Satine’s dead.”
‘You didn’t reap her soul,’ Ahsoka says. It’s said as a gentle reminder, but it nevertheless has Din feeling like the ground has disappeared beneath his feet as realization dawns.
“I...didn’t.”
A quiet sigh echoes through his head. ‘I forgot how ignorant you can be. You can’t reap a mortal soul that transforms into a new entity.’
“She’s a Cupid,” Din murmurs. Either that or a reaper, but he knows each of his reapers like the back of his hand and Satine isn’t nor has she ever been one. He shakes his head, thinking of Obi-Wan finding Satine’s body in the throne room. “That doesn’t make any sense. Obi-Wan clearly loved her.”
‘Rejection can sometimes stem from a misunderstanding. Satine’s last living encounter with Obi-Wan was him saying so long as he was part of the royal guard they had no future together. She perceived this as him denying he cared about her, not knowing he had made plans to retire in order to ask for her hand.’
In front of Din, Obi-Wan rubs at his soulmate marking while staring at the mess around him, lines of unease and confusion creasing his forehead.
‘You asked, what is the meaning of this moment?’ Ahsoka continues. ‘It’s one of the universe’s attempts to reconnect Obi-Wan and Satine so they experience their matching as they were intended to.’
“But they’re of different statuses,” he points out needlessly. “She’ll outlive him.”
‘Yes, but the matching of soulmates not only influences the lives of the pair, but the lives of other people as well in ways both obvious and invisible. Think of it as a ripple effect.’
“Did the universe’s attempt work?” Din wonders. “Were they ever reunited?”
‘When Satine awoke as a Cupid, it was a surprise to both her and Gideon. Rather than kill her a second time, the Seraph chose to inflict a worse fate. She became the first of her kind to have her memories erased. However, he’d never previously used his ability on another immortal before, resulting in him nearly wiping her entire mind clean. The universe is capable of many miracles, big and small, but every attempt of reuniting the pair failed. It remains the universe’s most profound regret which is ultimately the reason why the universe brought you to Trinomliaxeros without your armor so that history wouldn’t repeat itself.’
There is a strange, heavy feeling that suddenly inflates within the confines of Din’s chest like a balloon. It’s different from the rampant anger he can still detect simmering beneath the skin of his human façade. He tries to shake it off, focusing on his breathing and the desert heat emanating from the twin suns overhead, only to slowly realize that what he’s feeling is fear.
Within his memory he can recall just one other distinct moment in his existence where he felt this spine-chilling emotion, and that moment was experienced on Trinomliaxeros.
“What did you just say?” His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears, but he can’t find any energy within himself to care.
A long stretch of silence fills his head; it’s the fragile kind, too, preventing him from snapping at Ahsoka to answer lest she become angry at him and yank him out the vision entirely.
‘Twice the timing of a soulmate match has been disturbed. The first pair affected was Obi-Wan and Satine. And the second pair was...’
“Ahsoka,” he says when she hesitates to continue, but any additional words he can think of saying catch in the back of his throat.
‘The second pair was you and your angel.’ Another pause of silence, shorter but no less meaningful. ‘Only fifty years ago, she wasn’t an angel.’
This is what Din remembers from Trinomliaxeros: feeling a pull so forceful, impatient and unanticipated it drags him across the galaxy in his civilian clothes, arriving to find the planet engulfed in smoke, unable to see his hand in front of his face, even without his gloves on. Finding skeletal remains burnt to blackened crisps with the souls inside shaking and traumatized, practically leaping into his outstretched hand, knowing either the afterlife or damnation would be better destinations than lingering there even a second longer. Explosions in the distance, bursts of flames as intense and hot as the sun, greedily consuming everything in their radius.
Out of the smoke and darkness, a survivor. A girl, covered in soot and sweat, colliding with his chest. The dead are calling out to him, pleading for him to reap them, to save them. Their voices swirl around his head, clawing at his brain and pounding against his skull. Shoving the girl aside, one foot in front of the other, letting his powers guide him to the next soul. Her voice cuts across the distance, a plasma bolt striking him in the back. We’re soulmates, she says.
His breath stills in his lungs. Fear spreads like a virus through his bloodstream, slipping beneath his defenses, turning him into a stranger within his own body. The declaration is a lie, an impossibility, a delusion. He has no match, hands unmarked, flesh poisonous and lethal. His words, too, are weapons themselves. Sharp, ruthless, desiring to wound her as she’s wounded him. You could never be my soulmate.
And then he’d left her.
This is what Din remembers. But, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly it hurts, I’ve remembered everything all wrong.
Phantom hands gently press against the sides of his helmet, offering comfort without caring about the dried blood. He keeps his eyes shut, knowing it’s just a manifestation crafted by Ahsoka in his head. ‘Don’t blame yourself. This was the only viable outcome the universe could produce to ensure the bad timing would be remedied in the future,’ she says, but it does little to lessen the weight on his chest. ‘Your rejection saved her life. It granted you both a second chance of a first meeting.’
“How did—” Din struggles to string words together, to fucking breathe. “She—She knew. What we were. How…?”
The Oracle puts him out of his misery. ‘She found out the way all soulmates do: through touch.’
Din’s eyes fly open at that, and he has to blink a few times to bring everything into focus because there’s him and his angel right in front of him, frozen mid-collision. She’s grasping the sleeves of his coat to keep her balance, the palm of her marked hand touching his wrist. He stares at the point of contact for a moment, then barks out a laugh, hysterical and strangled sounding.
“That’s not possible.”
‘Soulmates can’t kill each other. She’s always been meant to withstand your touch.’
Din swallows thickly, staring at his angel’s face. He hates the question forming on his tongue, but it will haunt him the rest of his life if he doesn’t ask it. “In your visions, when I meet her at the right time, what happens?”
'You’re different by then, less broody and more accepting of the notion you could be loved. You have a soulmate marking,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘You fall for her hard, even before your hands brush. You love her throughout the entirety of her lifetime.’
“And...when she dies?” The words taste like blood in his mouth.
‘Don’t torture yourself, Death. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore.’
For one brief, fleeting second Din is actually grateful Gideon altered their destinies. However, in the next, he’s trying not to let the fear gnawing at the back of his mind increase as it belatedly occurs to him that the universe is not as infallible as he’s always believed it was.
He wishes he could see Ahsoka, if only so he could glare at her directly. “Everything you’ve shown me has only further convinced me Gideon deserves death. Why have you asked me to promise not to kill him?”
'Do you remember what happens after this moment on Trinomliaxeros?’
Din frowns at the change of subject. “I continued to reap souls.”
'Yes. And then?’
He huffs a frustrated breath through his nose. This is Ahsoka, he thinks, at her most annoying. But, as much he loathes admitting it, this is also the most helpfully transparent she’s ever been. Today may be the only time she trusts him enough to share her visions. He owes it to her to be as open as she’s being with him.
That being said, he’s still wary of the memories he’s kept in the distant, shadowy corners of his mind being pulled into the spotlight. “Tell me we’re not gonna talk about the kid.”
‘We talked about the universe’s biggest regret. It’s only fair we talk about yours too.’ Ahsoka has found the crack in his armor he’s tried so long to conceal, peeling it open without remorse.
She doesn’t spare him time to argue. All he does is blink and he’s looking at his past self locked in a staring contest with a little green-skinned child who is propped up inside a floating, orb-shaped pram.
Of all the buildings and homes on the planet, only its temple had remained untouched by the destruction. Din didn’t know if it had been the structure’s own holy foundation keeping it standing or if it was the personal choice of the mastermind behind the attack, but he’d been drawn to it regardless, finding souls there to reap whose hosts had differed from other victims in that their throats had been slit. The walls of the temple were adorned with intricate murals depicting immortal figures and religious events of ancient history, but before he could observe the artwork closer, a quiet coo had stopped him in his tracks.
When he opened the pram, he hadn’t anticipated finding a baby of all creatures. When their eyes connected, every background noise abruptly ceased. Even the voices of the dead fell silent. Rather than rouse his suspicions, Din had felt only a sense of peace he usually only experienced in the midst of hyperspace travel where the stars were his voiceless companions.
An unspoken conversation transpired between the two of them, one Din still can’t translate into words all these years later, but it concluded with him knowing he would take the child with him.
Din had reached for him unthinkingly, the child lifting his arms up in eagerness to be held, but self-awareness kicked in right before contact and Din retracted his hands away so fast it startled the child into crying, brown eyes filling with tears. Panicked, he surveyed the room, looking for something to put an end to the wailing, before looking down at his own coat, experiencing a lightbulb moment.
“Alright, kid, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Watching his past self shrug off the coat, Din remembers it had been his favorite of his civilian clothes, well worth the cost for its soft fabric and length. He managed to successfully swaddle the child, ensuring his arms were safely tucked away to prevent him endangering his life, and Din exhaled a quiet breath of relief when the tears dried up almost immediately.
However, the ensuing silence wasn’t as peaceful as the previous one. Both past and present Din turn at the sound of distant shuffling echoing off the temple walls from another room.
“Ignore it,” Din tells his past self. “Just take the kid and leave.”
But his plea goes unheard and the past remains unchanged. Ahsoka is silent inside his head, either because she knows he won’t accept any more comforting words or because she thinks he’s undeserving of them for choosing to leave the child behind in his pram, closing it when he starts to whine again, so Din can go investigate the noise.
Din exhales a quiet breath, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he watches himself stalk through the temple halls, checking each room he comes across. It’s strange, seeing himself from this perspective. The distanced viewpoint allows Din to glimpse new details he hadn’t been capable of noticing back then.
Such as the reappearance of a familiar Seraph emerging from the shadows to stab him in the back.
Here’s one of the perks about being Death: he can’t be killed. That fact doesn’t mean there haven’t been attempts though. As Death, people sometimes look at his armor as a challenge. Like if they can fire a shot or throw a knife at just the right angle, it’ll wound him and allow them to live longer. Simply put, all those people are idiots.
When he looks like a regular, unintimidating civilian, he’s also been involved in violent predicaments where someone’s attempted to mug him or where he’s tried to save someone else from a similarly sticky situation.
Armor or no armor though, he’s always walked away from these encounters completely unscathed.
Well. With the sole exception of Trinomliaxeros where he was mostly unscathed.
It wasn’t the first time Din had been stabbed before. Usually knife wounds felt like a mild pinch. More irritating than painful, similar to a splinter stuck in one’s thumb. Once the weapon was removed, the damage healed within seconds, leaving behind no scar or proof he was ever attacked.
Usually, is the keyword to note here.
Ahsoka freezes time right when the blade of the Lightsaber is driven straight through the center of Din’s body, bone and flesh as easy to slice through as melted butter. His agonized expression—eyes screwed shut and lips open in a silent scream—would be comical if Din didn’t remember the exact emotions he was feeling in that moment.
Instead of a pinch, it’d felt as if thousands of invisible hands were pulling and scratching at him, attempting to strip apart his human exterior layer by layer—peeling off skin, scraping away muscle and bone marrow, seeking to reach the core of himself where his powers resided.
‘Looks like it hurts,’ Ahsoka says. The return of her naturally calm and neutral tone of voice seems almost cruel given the frozen, graphic display.
Din again wishes he could glare at her. “Is this funny to you?”
‘The transformation of the Lightsaber into the Darksaber is anything but funny.’
Lost in recollection, he failed to notice until now how the blade of the Lightsaber has changed in color from white to black. It’s the same inky hue that absorbs the brown in his eyes, that had dyed his veins during the execution of Hess.
‘The Armorer specifically instructed the Lightsaber only be used against enemies. As a neutral entity, you are, by definition, no one’s ally or adversary. By stabbing you, the saber became corrupted. It is a consequence Gideon still has yet to fully realize the monumental repercussions of.’
Time resumes, Din’s past self collapsing onto the floor, pressing a hand to the throbbing hole in his chest, attention too consumed by the franticness of his powers struggling to repair the trauma to notice Gideon lingering behind him. The Seraph’s stunned look of shock lasts barely ten seconds, morphing into one of deep contemplation as his gaze flicked between the weapon and Din, before he vanished.
When Din recovered enough to stand, he teleported back to the child’s location at once. He needs to get the little guy as far away from here as possible, somewhere peaceful and safe. His planning came to an abrupt halt upon finding the pram open and empty, his coat shredded and scattered about the floor in pieces.
“Gideon took him.” It isn’t a question.
‘Yes,’ she confirms. ‘The child was the intended target of this siege.’
“Why?”
‘He’s...very special.’ There is something about how her voice hitches when she says ‘special’ that has Din’s instincts prickling with alertness, but he holds his tongue. ‘Gideon considers him a tool he can take advantage of.’
The ugly, tight mass of anger swells inside of him and presses against his lungs, resulting in a low growl slipping out of his mouth. He curses his own ineptitude. If he’d paid more attention, hadn’t allowed himself to be wounded, he could have subdued Gideon and spared both his angel and the child from being captured.
“I warned you once upon a time, there would be consequences if you released your darkness,” Ahsoka says, her voice no longer emitting from inside his head. The vision fades back into reality the same sudden, jarring way one wakes up from dreaming. It takes all of Din’s self-restraint not to perform a full-body shake. “Your control is slipping as your rage increases. It’s making you not think clearly which is exactly what Gideon wants. That is the reason I am asking you to promise you will not kill him.”
Put like that, Din no longer thinks her request sounds quite so outlandish, even though he does still remain in the dark as to what consequences exactly will unfold. Ahsoka has remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the topic from their very first encounter, claiming the universe is adamant she can only share the details with one other person and it isn’t him.
“He deserves to die for all he’s done,” Din says quietly, but he’s self-aware to know his resistance is beginning to crumble.
“Between you and me, I think so, too,” she admits in the same low tone. Her ocean eyes are dark and stormy, reflecting her internal turmoil. “But rules are made for a reason and we would be fools to carelessly overlook the consequences of breaking them.”
The accusatory note from earlier has returned with a vengeance. He’s not surprised—of course the universe would utilize the Oracle to express its disapproval—but aggravation still thrums through his veins.
“Hess played a hand in my soulmate’s fate. He called her a whore.” Din’s upper lip twitches with the urge to snarl. “I don’t regret what I did to him.”
Ahsoka sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that. When you swore your creed, you promised the universe you’d only reap a soul when their host’s time has reached its destined end. By killing Hess, you not only broke a sacred rule, you also broke your creed.”
Din recoils, feeling like he’s been stabbed with the Lightsaber all over again.
“...What?” The anger is gone, extinguished by the weight of the revelation. Confusion and wariness are quick to fill the void. “What does that mean?”
She looks away then, but not quick enough to hide her troubled expression. “I...don’t know.”
He blinks, mind scrambling to understand the implications. “Isn’t that your purpose? To know everything?”
“For the very first time, the future’s unclear to me,” she murmurs, eyes briefly turning cloudy as if she’s trying to take a peek at the potential timelines right then and there. She shakes her head a beat later, frowning. “There are many choices left to be made, each one capable of influencing the fate of the galaxy. It is not possible at this time for me to predict our upcoming reality, let alone your consequences. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Din says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t like seeing her crestfallen expression. Fuck, he might actually consider her a friend after all.
Whatever happens, he thinks to himself, it can’t be any worse to deal with than being separated from his soulmate. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.
“The last promise I made was broken.” He bites back a wince at the memory of his angel’s pinky promise. “But if making another one is the only way you’ll take me to my soulmate, then you have my word. I won’t kill him.”
A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before she grabs hold of one of his vambraces. “Take me to your ship. I will guide you to her location.”
“You don’t trust me to go alone?” he asks, unsure whether to be amused or indignant.
“No,” Ahsoka replies bluntly.
Din huffs. “Fine.”
“I may not be able to see much at the moment, but I know it’s never wise to turn down support. You’re going to need us.”
“Us?”
“It’s Bo-Katan’s choice to make, but you and I both know she’s never been one to back down from a fight. Especially once she learns Gideon is her sister’s murderer.”
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reidecorating · 3 years
Text
L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader  
A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite
Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex
Masterlist
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Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with. 
Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm. 
“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,” 
“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him. 
Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”
“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”
“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him. 
The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”
“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change. 
What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another. 
Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?” 
“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer. 
They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once. 
The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”
“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”
“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”
“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile. 
The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”
“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”
“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body. 
Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”
“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration. 
Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb.  She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.
A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”
“Or saw,”
“Don’t!”
“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”
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