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steddiealltheway · 3 months

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It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #robin buckley

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amywritesthings · 4 months

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chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade.

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know.

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground.

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers.

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming.

Good.

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

519 notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 13 days

Text

fever // kita shinsuke

tw ⇢ mutual pining, semi public, massaging, hair pulling, clit play, hand job, pussy job, grinding, no penetration, slight nipple play

wc ⇢ 4.5k

Kita exhaled a measured breath, carefully resting the well-worn volleyball in the ball cart before turning to survey the gym. Practice had concluded for the evening, but the scuffed hardwood floor still radiated a residual warmth reflecting the team's exertions.

One by one, his teammates had trickled out - the athletic club's locker room clearing out in a steady flow of rowdy jokes and towels slung over damp shoulders. The usual nightly exodus that Kita monitored with an accustomed stillness. All except for one person still diligently working off to the side, seemingly oblivious that she'd been left behind.

You.

Kita's eyes instinctively traced the familiar lines of your form as you bent with silent concentration, meticulously rolling up the vinyl court mats with deft motions. The oversized shirttails of Inarizaki's uniform bunched and strained across your shoulderblades with each controlled movement - the vibrant hue only accentuating how your cheeks still glowed faintly flushed from exertion.

Something he couldn't help noticing with each practice as of late. Along with the slight fraying at your ponytail's nape from repeatedly running hands through sweat-dampened strands. Or the shadows deepening beneath your eyes - barely perceptible markers of how heavy your work schedule as team manager had become.

Kita felt an unwitting tightness grip his diaphragm as he watched you tending to the equipment sweep - the final thankless task before being able to escape the gymnasium yourself. He should have been relieved that you exemplified such steadfast dedication to your duties. The sort of disciplined work ethic he strove to emblematize.

Yet lately, an encroaching sense of unease had begun creeping in whenever glimpsing how utterly depleted you seemed. Like a brilliant ember slowly being smothered to ashen burnout despite containing so much vital spark left to share.

Perhaps it was painfully selfish, but Kita couldn't bear the thought of that smoldering spark winking out entirely. Not when it represented one of the sole warmths capable of unraveling his own desperation to always remain rigidly compartmentalized.

With you, he could simply exist - shed of airtight expectations and the crushing weight of obligations. If only for fleeting moments that never felt sufficient to absorb your radiant presence fully.

The subversive thought prompted Kita to impulsively close the distance between you with his trademark eerily-silent footfalls. You didn't register his approach until he folded his tall frame into an easy crouch mere inches away - deft fingers automatically reaching to assist tucking in the mat's final corner.

"K-Kita!" You startled, clearly not expecting him to materialize so abruptly at your side after everyone else had vacated. "You shouldn't have to help with this, I'm-"

"Nearly finished for the evening?" His deep, quietly resonant timbre cut you off - not unkindly. Liquid mercury eyes remained focused on aligning the mat's edge as his elegant hands smoothed and secured it into a tidy roll. "Don't worry, I've been observing how diligently you've attended everything lately."

You opened your mouth to protest or express gratitude - he couldn't be certain which based on the fleeting chaos of micro-expressions flickering across your features. Kita determinedly avoided focusing too intently on your lovely face directly.

The subtle smatterings of flushed exertion dusting your cheekbones and nose were...disarmingly appealing enough without adding to his distraction.

Instead, he pressed on before you could formulate a reply.

"I've been meaning to suggest you join me on a retreat soon." Kita kept his tone was neutral as he began coiling the roll of mat beneath one arm, motioning with his chin that you should take the opposite end. "There are some hot springs out in Yufu that would be perfect for recharging and immersive meditation this time of year."

Rising to his full stature, Kita finally leveled his gaze directly upon you - absorbing the momentary wash of surprise and something deeper, more ruminative flickering across your expression. That familiar spark of warmth rekindling from its embered banked state as your eyes searched his with unspoken consideration.

"Think it over," he prompted softly, imperceptibly leaning in fractionally closer yet still maintaining a disciplined distance. "I imagine a night or two of solitary contemplation could benefit us both greatly."

The effluence of Kita's breath mingled with yours in corporeal plumes as you absorbed his pointed invitation - searching for any hint of ulterior suggestion laced through the polished veneer of his subtle words and movements. As always, he emitted an aura of pristine neutrality and understatement that skirted any tinge of impropriety.

But after sharing so many sidelong gazes, measured silences, and paradoxically-charged stillnesses over years of proximity...you thought you detected the barest kindling of something molten and incandescently profound burning behind his veneer. Something solely meant for your interpretation alone.

Still, you found yourself unable to voice anything beyond a mute nod of acceptance. Allowing the hushed ambiance to lapse back over your dual departures from the gymnasium - bodies and breath intermittent, but bound by currents vastly deeper than physical colocation.

All while Kita hid a barely-perceptible smile, finally allowing vindicated hope to unfurl within his rigorously tempered heart.

You couldn't shake the lingering pull of Kita's words - or the undercurrent of unspoken yearning that seemed to accent his otherwise placid invitation.

An overnight retreat to remote hot springs for "solitary contemplation"? On the surface, it sounded like precisely the sort of austerely philosophical overture one would expect from someone as rigorously self-actualized as Kita Shinsuke. And yet...

You found your focus fracturing at inopportune moments, always drifting back towards dissecting the implications of that loaded pause before he extended the invite. Or the infinitesimal dilation of his liquid mercury eyes while pinning you under that steadily smoldering regard.

Was it projection conjuring phantoms from your own long-repressed desires regarding Kita? Or had you genuinely glimpsed a simmering spark of something heated flaring beneath his meticulously-honed control?

The uncharacteristic lack of certainty dogged your heels through the ensuing days. Early dawn meditation circle followed by corralling rambunctious teammates - then practice regimens, followed by tight laps of individual training all bled into a seamless panorama of duties. The steady, soothing routine only interrupted when Kita unexpectedly rematerialized during quiet pockets in the schedule.

He never overtly revisited the topic, yet his presence often carried the static charge of unfinished business hovering in the air between you. Until one evening following clean-up, you found Kita in one of the secluded ante-rooms clearly waiting for you.

"We haven't spoken much since I extended my invitation," he began without preamble, back to you while sorting equipment racks. "Have you given any thought to joining me in Yufu?"

You hesitated fractionally, still processing his abrupt resurgence of the topic. "I have...though I'm not certain an overnight retreat is advisable given our respective commitments here."

Kita hummed thoughtfully, finally slanting his chiseled profile towards you. "We could arrange coverage easily enough if we stagger our departure and return appropriately."

Pinned beneath his steadily considering gaze, you felt your breath stalling in your chest. As always, Kita projected a facade of crisp professionalism and equanimity. Yet there was an infinitesimal brightness glittering in those steely eyes boring into yours that seemed to make an unspoken entreaty all its own.

"Getting away from this environment - even briefy - can provide incomparable perspective," he continued in that baseline timbre of his roughened with quiet conviction. "Having you along as well would only serve to deepen the immersion and focus..."

Kita trailed off, expression slipping seamlessly back into that practiced vacancy masking depths you'd always longed to plumb. The muscle in his jaw ticked faintly as he averted his eyes - immediately busying his elegant hands with some inane reorganizing of janitorial supplies as if chastising himself for even broaching the subject so ardently.

"At any rate," he muttered, cotton towel whisking across metal handles with percussive strokes that sliced the thickening silence. "Consider it, if you're able to manage the time away from your regular responsibilities here."

The minute shift of his shoulders spoke volumes - Kita already attempting to insulate himself from whatever seedling longing had temporarily unfurled. You found yourself rooted in place, drinking in each precise movement and lilting cadence from your teammate as if reinscribing them all into muscle memory.

You quietly ached witnessing him wrestle his yearning back beneath that impeccable veneer of restraint. As if fearing you'd shy from the vulnerability of peering too unflinchingly into the blazing intensity you knew burned beneath his stillness.

Before Kita could retreat fully behind his customary distant stoicism, you jolted into decisive action.

"Let's go." The words tumbled out on a hushed yet insistent exhalation, stalling his movements entirely. "Even a solitary night or two away could provide useful perspective, as you said."

Molten mercury eyes flared towards you in naked astonishment before Kita regained his composure with a subtle dip of his chin. The slightest softening warmed his aristocratic features and you had to clench your palms against a sudden trembling.

"Very well," he replied, somehow managing to project equanimity despite his rattled stillness. "I'll handle the arrangements and preparations for us both. Perhaps you might contemplate the value of mindful solitude in the interim."

Then Kita slanted you a heavy-lidded look from beneath his lashes - one you felt scorching across every exposed inch of your rapidly overheating skin. There was no mistaking the lush promise and simmering intent blazing behind that stare before he refocused with visible effort.

"It may prove...deeply illuminating for the both of us," Kita murmured in a voice dropping into a register you felt viscerally ribboning up your spine.

You could only give a tremulous nod and fight for steady inhales as he brushed past you with a lingering brush of warm, mint-tinged air. Already feeling imperiled by the thought of "solitary contemplation" with Kita amongst such remotely intimate seclusion.

Not that you retained any willpower left to contemplate refusing. Denial was no longer an option once the spark between you had finally ignited into blazing reality.

The journey to Yufu passed in a reverent kind of silence, occasionally punctuated by Kita offering hushed commentary about the significance of hot spring bathing in Japanese culture. You absorbed the lulling timbre of his voice like a tonic - steadying your thrill-hazed thoughts from spiraling too recklessly.

Because despite maintaining impeccable discretion on its surface, this was unmistakably an intimate occasion. Just the two of you sequestered at an exclusive onsen ryokan tucked into the densely forested mountains. Primed to shed societal pretext entirely for anonymous oversight and ritual indulgence.

You attempted not to dwell overlong on how deliriously tempting the concept felt after so many years orbiting Kita's gravitational pull. Only to have that inexorable tide abruptly draw both your paths into shared seclusion.

Upon arrival, Kita ushered you to separate bathing pavilions with a pointed look and reassurance he would join you once you'd settled into your appointed suite. You moved through the ceremonial disrobings and ablutions in a daze - trying to center yourself in the austere surroundings and reminder of pursuing spiritual clarity.

Yet the rituals only conjured visceral recollections of sharing sidelong glances with Kita across steam-shrouded surfaces. Of his lithe, powerful form materializing from mineral-rich clouds with rivulets trailing down the corded arcs of his back.

You shuddered and submerged yourself fully in the blessedly scalding waters, desperate to purge such profane imagery before he returned to your company. Only emerging once confident your meditative breathing exercises had steadied your thrumming pulse into an outwardly composed state.

When Kita did rejoin you, swathed in the facility's uniform yukata robe, you felt your arousal flare with alarming intensity all over again.

He looked inexplicably, disarmingly beautiful like this. The intricate patterns of his robe accentuated the rugged slashes of his jawline and cheekbones - simultaneously expressing delicacy and intense masculinity with each meticulously unhurried motion. You froze, drinking in each weighted pause and steady sweep of his mercurial gaze taking you in as he settled onto the submerged bench facing you.

"These hot spring waters make me want to open up my thoughts to you," Kita's timbre sliced through the fragile quiet first - sotto yet arresting. "It seems like you have a lot on your mind too."

You swallowed hard, determined not to spiral into incoherence from the intimate double meaning you detected woven through his mild inquiry.

"Lately I've been wondering if my calm outer appearance truly reflects my inner ideals," you murmured, gaze locked onto the elegant flex of Kita's hands smoothing the embroidered lapels over his sternum. "Or if I've just become too closed off."

A flicker of silent understanding passed over Kita's inscrutable features as he absorbed your veiled confession. The water sloshed gently between you as he shifted infinitesimally closer - near enough for his crisply grounding cedar and green tea scent to wreath around you.

"Staying calm on the outside is meant to cultivate inner peace, not be an end goal itself," he replied with that deceptively mild directness you found so innately compelling. "Avoiding the truth out of propriety leads to stagnation, not enlightenment."

His eyes locked weightily onto yours in silent emphasis - a scintillating undercurrent seeming to suffuse the heated waters as your lungs labored for air under such singularly focused intensity.

"I've let some important truths go unspoken for too long," Kita continued in a cadence stripping away several layers of subtext until only rawly naked honesty remained. "Maintaining decorum at the expense of serenity has done me a disservice, and you as well."

You drank in each word, simultaneously intoxicated and floored by the profundity of Kita's confession unfolding with such poised grace. Somehow, he managed to transmute the insulated world of the ryokan's dimly lit bathing chamber into a microcosmic suspended orbit - just the two of you drifting closer and unfurling truths that illuminated fathomless new expanses.

Yet when he leveled his piercing, elemental focus directly onto you next - all pretenses and protective veneers abruptly fell away in his piercing intensity.

"I brought you out here for unforgivably selfish reasons," Kita stated quietly yet with smoldering, ruthless conviction laced through each syllable. "I wanted to be alone with you…to finally confess my true feelings for you without restraint or judgment, even if it crosses boundaries we've danced around."

The naked admission hung between you in a burgeoning swell of heated electricity. You struggled to accurately process the enormity of his pronouncement - much less render coherent response beyond widening eyes and a sharp inhalation.

Kita watched the maelstrom of shock, possibilty, and thoroughly naked yearning play out across your features with rapt absorption. Until finally, the last of his veneers fell away like cresting waves finally succumbing to the inevitability of the tide.

He pivoted from his seated position until planted solidly before you - steely eyes transfixed on drinking in every micro shift of emotion unspooling across your face. Then with maddening unhurried reverence, Kita extended a dripping hand to chart your jaw's contours.

The lightest graze of his fingertips seared your thundering pulse like a brand, dizzying your senses entirely. But Kita didn't relent in his sensual exploration - tracing the sloped curves and hollows of your neck and decolletage with a worshipful sort of absorption.

"I'm tired of denying how much I want to know every inch of you," he confessed in a gravelly rasp drowning in shameless, smoldering yearning. Lips brushed the hollow of your clavicle in a searing half-kiss as you shuddered helplessly. "I've spent too long not allowing myself to feel your body against me."

Callouses dragged along deliriously sensitive planes in his wake, kindling arousal into a molten, all-consuming blaze within the cradle of your increasingly trembling thighs. All pretense of restraint or detached contemplation had thoroughly dissolved - replaced by Kita's absolute immersion into mapping the intimate topography of your mottled blush spreading across exposed flesh.

Your body instinctively leaned into his exploratory touches, silently begging for more sustained contact in the wake of his hushed revelation. Even as your mind whirled, Kita proceeded with hushed focus and purpose - rendering you increasingly pliant putty under the spellbinding magic of his undivided attention.

When his mouth slanted across yours in a searing, openmouthed clash, it felt like the final surrender to unchecked truth. Years of repressed longing and carefully maintained discretion ignited into pure sensual freefall.

Kita groaned harshly, swallowing your ragged gasp as your arcs instinctively strained for impossible closeness. He pressed inexorably tighter - one palm slipping along the jut of your hipbone beneath the concealing waters in a consuming caress before gently turning your body around.

Kita's calloused hands glided over your slick skin, the heated water allowing his fingers to effortlessly explore the curves of your body. He started at your shoulders, firmly kneading the tense muscles there as you melted back against the bath's edge with a soft sigh.

"Relax," he murmured, the rumbling timbre of his voice surrounding you. "Let me take care of you."

You obliged, going pliant under his attentions. His strong hands worked methodically downward, thumbs digging deliciously into the knots of your upper back. Kita's motions were deliberate yet unhurried, as if committing every plane and dip of your flesh to memory through touch alone.

When he reached your lower back, you arched involuntarily, pushing your body more fully into his roaming palms. A soft sound escaped your parted lips at the change of angle, the new tension in your muscles screaming for his expert pressure.

Kita leaned in closer until his broad chest brushed your back, the heat of his skin raising goosebumps along your arms. His deft fingers danced lower, kneading the swell of your hips, the crease of your thighs. Each touch ignited sparks that rapidly stoked into a burning need for more contact, more friction.

"Does that feel good?" Kita's raspy murmur fanned across the nape of your neck, making you shiver. You could only nod, rendered incoherent by the arousal slowly engulfing you.

One hand dipped between your thighs, parting them gently. Your breath hitched as he traced the length of your folds with a single fingertip, drawing an achingly slow line up to your clit. The slightest graze had you keening, hips canting toward his touch.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long," Kita confessed, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed against the stiff peak, eliciting a soft cry from you. "Every time I saw you working so hard, I imagined how I'd take care of you."

"Shin..." You couldn't summon any words beyond his name, the sensations overwhelming your ability to form coherent thoughts. His finger pressed down against your swollen clit, drawing tight circles that had you panting and squirming against him.

Kita's breath ghosted across your throat, the warmth and tickle adding another layer of sensation to the fire he'd started. Your head lolled against his shoulder, exposing the delicate expanse of your neck to him.

He took full advantage, nipping and sucking at the flushed skin until a constellation of red marks bloomed in his wake. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his cock straining against the small of your back, the tension in his muscles signaling his own barely-contained lust.

But Kita remained focused on you, his hand working between your thighs in steady motions. He seemed to read the slightest cues of your body, adjusting the speed and pressure of his strokes until he'd reduced you to a quivering mess.

Every nerve ending felt electrified, pleasure building at the base of your spine, spreading throughout your entire body. You ground shamelessly against his palm, desperate for release. Kita's fingers slid easily along your soaked slit, the friction exactly what you needed to tip you over the edge.

A shudder wracked your frame, legs clamping around his hand as you came with a wordless cry. Pleasure crashed through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Distantly, you heard Kita groan, felt the hardness of his cock twitching against you, but it all seemed secondary to the overwhelming euphoria gripping you.

Finally, the aftershocks subsided, leaving you feeling sated and boneless. Kita's touch lingered, teasing lightly along your overly-sensitive flesh, his mouth trailing tender kisses along the slope of your neck.

You slumped further against his chest, breathing heavily. After a moment, Kita pulled his hand away, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his erection digging into your back, but he made no move to relieve himself, instead simply holding you close.

The realization that he'd brought you out here specifically to pleasure you sent a rush of affection coursing through you. You twisted around until you were facing him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.

"Thank you," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss. He tasted faintly sweet, the mineral tang of the hot springs still lingering. Kita met your movements eagerly, his hands skimming up and down your back.

You let the kiss linger, losing yourself in the slide of his mouth against yours. His touch was unhurried, almost lazy, like he had all the time in the world to explore your lips, your tongue, the sensitive underside of your jaw.

A quiet whimper escaped you as his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts. Your own hands wandered over the broad expanse of his chest, tracing the firm contours of his pectorals and abdomen. The way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath your fingertips was addictive, and you found yourself wanting to touch every inch of his sculpted body.

Finally, you broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. His irises were nearly swallowed by his pupils, dark with lust.

You felt a renewed stirring of arousal at the thought of bringing him pleasure, of watching him fall apart beneath you.

"I want to touch you," you breathed, letting your fingers drift lower, ghosting across the defined lines of his pelvic bone. Kita's gaze burned into yours, his breathing coming heavier.

"You don't have to," he murmured, even as his cock twitched at the prospect. You grinned, palming the thick length of him, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

"But I want to," you replied, squeezing his shaft lightly. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, jaw clenched as he fought to regain control. The sight of him losing his composure, of knowing that you were the cause, sent a rush of power surging through you.

Kita opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but you cut him off with another squeeze. He bit his lip, hips bucking into your touch. You grinned, running your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

"Lie back," you ordered, and he obeyed, sinking onto the stone ledge at the edge of the bath. You shifted positions, straddling his legs and bracing yourself against his muscular thighs.

His eyes locked onto yours as you began stroking his length, slow and firm. He groaned, eyelids fluttering, a faint blush spreading across his high cheekbones. The sight of him laid out before you, completely vulnerable, sent another pulse of arousal through you.

You kept the rhythm steady, gauging his reactions and adjusting accordingly. Every twitch, every soft moan, had you aching for more. But you wanted to draw this out, to savor the moment.

His head dropped back against the stone, eyes closing as his hips began to rock into your motions. His breaths came in ragged pants, muscles tensing and releasing. You could tell he was getting close, could feel his cock swelling in your hand.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and his hands grasped your wrists, stilling your movements.

"Wait," he gasped, chest heaving. You paused, watching his expression intently. After a moment, he loosened his grip, guiding your hands off him and settling them on his stomach instead.

"Not like this," he murmured, sitting up and shifting you onto his lap, your thighs splayed wide around his hips. His cock pressed against your inner thigh, and you ached to sink onto him, to feel him fill you completely.

But he simply held you, gazing at you with an expression of awe and adoration. The intensity of his stare, the reverence in his touch, was intoxicating. Your breath hitched, and you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Kita wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips parted, allowing your tongue to slip inside and deepen the kiss. You moaned, rocking your hips against him, reveling in the friction.

You felt his hands slide down to your ass, pulling you more firmly against him. He guided the movement, thrusting against you, his cock sliding along your soaked folds. Each pass sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, and you found yourself clinging to him, grinding down on his shaft.

He buried his face in your neck, breath hot against your skin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. His grip on your hips tightened, and you felt his cock twitch.

"Do that again," he groaned, voice muffled by your neck. You obliged, yanking his head back and exposing the column of his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you couldn't resist dragging your tongue along his pulse point.

His hips jerked, and he let out a guttural moan, low and deep. The sound went straight to your core, and you found yourself grinding harder, chasing your release. Kita's breathing was ragged, his cock throbbing between your legs.

You could tell he was close, could feel him teetering on the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he thrust against you. You raked your nails down his back, earning a sharp gasp from him.

The tension coiling within you was unbearable, and you knew it wouldn't take much more to send you over the edge. As if sensing this, Kita's fingers found your nipples, pinching hard. You cried out, arching into him, your orgasm ripping through you.

Kita followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he came with a hoarse cry. His grip on you loosened, his movements slowing. He panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone.

You felt utterly boneless, spent. But there was a warmth spreading through you, a sense of contentment that was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Kita looked utterly blissed out, his eyes half-lidded, his expression relaxed.

You brushed a lock of damp hair off his forehead, admiring his profile. He cracked one eye open, gazing at you with affection.

"Are you ready for bed?" he asked softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip. You nodded, and he smiled, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before lifting you off his lap and standing.

You let him lead you from the baths, exhaustion beginning to creep in. As he helped you dress, you wondered if the night was truly over. The thought of falling asleep next to him was strangely comforting.

You climbed into bed, watching as he shed his robe and settled beside you. The warmth of his body was soothing, and you nestled closer, draping an arm across his waist. He sighed, pulling you against him.

You lay like that for some time, just listening to the sound of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Finally, sleep claimed you, and you drifted off into the deepest slumber you'd had in months.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kita x reader smut #kita shinsuke smut #kita shinsuke x reader smut #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita smut #kita shinsuke

167 notes · View notes

explosionkatsu · 9 months

Text

“Age doesn't matter,” 20

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

PART 19

The day where Katsuki needs to confront his ex-wife arrives. Despite what happened between Y/n and him, he knew he needs to do this even without her. Although, he hated she was not the one taking care of Kazui at that moment.

On his way to the court, Eijiro had to accompany him since he was the one who found Katsuki's ex-wife's location.

Both gentlemen were wearing a suit. But of course, their hero suit wasn't forgotten.

The drive is silent. The only thing they can hear is the roaring engine of the vehicle as Katsuki drives. His mind was too occupied that he wasn't able to message his mother.

Seeing that the establishment is near, Katsuki immediately noticed the small crowd of journalists waiting patiently in front of the entrance for his arrival. He also saw one of them point at his car which made everyone scramble grabbing cameras.

As he slowly approached the portico, Katsuki waited for the security to unlock the said portico for them to get in. He watches a crew of security closing the path of the other journalist who were trying to get in as they take tons of pictures almost everywhere.

"Are you nervous?" Eijiro asked beside him as he loosened his tie a bit.

"There's nothing to be nervous about." Katsuki simply responded as he parked the car near the front door.

"Here we are. We'll just need the judge to authorize your divorce paper, the warrant of arrest for your ex, and have her imprisoned permanently since she's already in prison." Eijiro beamed, seemingly trying to lift Katsuki's mood.

"Tsch." Katsuki only tched as they both prepare to leave the car. "Let's get this over with." He added and exited the vehicle.

"Alright, man."

The courtroom was full of people. There are few faces Katsuki could recognize such as his old classmates who are willing to be his witness.

"Whoah. I didn't expect this many would come." Eijiro whispered.

"The hell you expect? We're heroes." Katsuki grunted, answering Eijiro.

Katsuki proceeded to the defense area where his lawyer is currently waiting for him, and Eijro headed towards the spectator area where the others at.

"Mr. Bakugo." the lawyer greeted, reaching his left hand out.

Katsuki greeted back and shook the hand. "Mr. Isaka."

"I didn't anticipate this to occur so unexpectedly." Mr. Isaka spoke up and sat on the chair with Katsuki, copying his motion.

"Mhm."

Mr. Isaka is Katsuki's lawyer referred by his mentor. The only one who can withstand Katsuki and his temper.

Their first meeting wasn't so good at all due to Katsuki's refusal. He only accepted Mr. Isaka when he was framed by his ex-wife for being an abusive husband. Mr. Isaka managed to clean his name, without any difficulty, as well as file a case against those companies who were spreading rumors about him. You could say it was successful since a bunch of News Agencies released an apology letter on tv and social media.

The courtroom abruptly went quiet when the police announced the arrival of the Judge who slowly made her way to the judge's bench and settled herself.

Katsuki was concentrated. He was even disregarding the fact that his ex was standing 8 feet away from him.

" We are gathering today to witness the judgment of Mr. Katsuki Bakugo and (ex's name). You may all take your seats." The judge said and sat as well. "Now could we have the defending party speak?"

Mr. Isaka stood up, thanked the judge, and started speaking.

...

"Ms. (Ex), is it true that you left Mr. Katsuki without any letter, note, or message?"

"No, Sir."

"Is it true that you abandoned your child while Mr. Bakugo was on his patrol?"

"No, Sir."

"Is it true that you're living with your boyfriend all this time after you stole all Mr. Bakugo's banknotes?"

"N-no, Sir."

"That's all, judge."

"Thank you, Mr. Isaka."

...

"Mr. Bakugo, or should I say, Dynamight. Is it true that you lay a hand on Ms. (ex)?"

"No."

"Is it true that you choose your job over your family cause for Ms. (ex) to leave?"

"No."

...

"Judge Kanaki, we would like Mr. Eijiro Kirishima to join the stand."

Eijiro stood up and went to the witness stand.

"Mr. Kirishima, could you tell us what happened to that incident a few years ago?" Mr. Isaka asked.

Eijiro took a deep breath before answering.

"Exactly at 7 in the evening, I bid good night to Dynamight since it was the end of our patrol. He was my buddy that day. It was an uneventful patrol for us. When I got home and changed into my ordinary clothing, Bakugo suddenly called. His breathing was heavy, almost like panicking. I asked him what was wrong, he told me his wife left their child all alone in their home. I immediately went using my motorbike and catches Bakugo, still not changing from his work clothes, trying to calm the wailing child in his arms. He looked disheveled. Crying, and terror were apparent in his voice."

"E-eijiro.."

"What happened!?" Eijiro immediately went to Katsuki's side. "Tell me what happened."

Katsuki didn't answer for he was just staring at the month-old Kazui.

"Hold on!" Eijiro ran towards the kitchen and took a glass of water. "Here, let me try. Have a drink."

Eijiro took Kazui from Katsuki and watches how his buddy took a huge gulp, calming himself. He was lucky he managed to rock Kazui to sleep.

"We didn't know how long the child was crying until we remember the footage." Eijiro scowled. "That woman left at 8:41 in the morning, getting picked up by her goddamn boyfriend!"

"Thank you, Mr. Kirishima."

...

"Mr. Bakugo. Where are you on the day that Ms. (ex) claimed that you hit her?"

"At my office, working on a few documents."

"With your secretary?"

"Mhm."

"Is it true that you were linked with your secretary?"

"Objection. Accusatory."

"Allowed."

"That is all, Judge Kanaki."

...

"Lawyers. Do you have anything else to say before I close this case?"

"No, Ma'am."

"No."

"In that case, this court will be adjourned for 15 minutes. Allow the jury to decide the fate of the prosecutor."

...

Fifteen minutes went by and the jury, along with the judge came back holding what seems to be the result of the trial.

Katsuki was calmly sitting beside his lawyer who was focused on the appearance of the judge.

When the judge finally settled back on her stand, she addressed Katsuki, as well as his ex-wife before turning to the jury, "May the head of the jury stand."

A person slowly stood up.

"Does the jury find the defendant guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

"In the case of Mr. Katsuki Bakugo, and Ms. (ex). Ms. (ex) is found guilty of article 276, Abandoning a Minor. You will be charged with imprisonment with a fine of (your currency) 500,000.00. Court dismissed."

"All rise."

...

Your day at school was uneventful as usual. Finishing a bunch of activities that needed to be scored, and a few papers that your principal demanded.

It was quiet since it was Saturday, and here you are, already regretting not taking your works home with you.

Well, you chose this job. Plus, the salary pays all your bills, you can still even buy a bunch of clothes if you want but you just choose to save them.

Then you suddenly remembered Kirishima.

You just accomplished all your works and he suddenly called to inform you that Bakugo will have his trial today.

You were confused about why he was telling you this but Kirishima suddenly said,

"Well, you're my friend now. You're part of our lives as well! Especially him, you know. So, I think you earn to know."

Pondering about what he said made you halt your work and look out the window, wondering.

"Am I?"

...

"Stop wailing shittyhair. The trial's over like an hour ago." Katsuki tsked as he took a big sip of his drink.

"I just can't believe you're finally free." Eijiro hiccuped as he took another shot of his drink while sobbing.

"We're just happy for you, bro." Denki smiled while patting the sobbing Eijiro.

"Yeah. That woman deserves that." Sero smirked. "Have you informed your parents, tho?" his face turned serious after saying this.

"Not yet," Katsuki answered. "Besides, I'm quite sure that this is all over the news. You all hella noticed all the fucking cameramen enveloping almost the courtroom."

"Geez. They can't get a break, can't they." Denki sighed.

"It's their job. Hello. They earn money out of gossip." Mina suddenly spoke out whilst slapping Denki's head.

"Ah. I need to text Y/n." Eijiro unexpectedly said and pulled his phone out.

Hearing your name took Katsuki's attention which brought him avert his eyes to Eijiro.

"You're on first name basis?" Katsuki said raising an eyebrow.

"Me? No, bro." Eijiro responded without glancing at him since he was occupied typing on his phone.

"What're you telling her?"

"That you won and we're celebrating." Eijiro merely said.

"What's with all the question, bro?" Denki smirked.

"Miss her?" Sero taunted.

"Fuck off."

...

"Our no. 2 Hero, Dynamight just won his 4 hours long trial with his ex-wife (name) who's sentenced to imprisonment and a fine of 500,000.00 for abandoning their child. On the other hand, his child was nowhere to be seen by our team. It seems like Dynamight is protecting his child."

"Of course, a parent would do that." You mumbled as you watched the news from your kitchen.

"To all the ladies out there. Dynamight is finally single and undoubtedly not ready to mingle. So, a good and bad news for the fans! Hahaha!"

"Geez." You pouted as you stirred your fried rice. "Do they need to say that on TV?" You muttered. "Stupid newscaster."

Then you heard your phone's notification making you groan.

"This better be not another paperwork." You said out loud as you turned the fire off, quickly washed your hands, and wiped them dry. Once done, you head to your phone and check the messages.

It was Kirishima, informing you that Bakugo indeed won and they were celebrating in a bar along with a selfie of his group.

You can see them all beaming at the camera, except for a specific blonde which made you chuckle.

'Typical Bakugo.' You thought.

So without hesitation, you responded.

"Glad he won! It was all over the news as well so I managed to know just bits of the details. Have fun drinking, and please don't get drunk."

And click the send button.

...

"Miss Y/n said not to get drunk." Eijiro chuckled.

"Awe. I swear she's so adorable. I like her." Mina awed. "If only someone didn't push her away. We would still be hanging out with her."

"Oi, pinky. Say that to my face, why don't cha?" Katsuki glared.

"Oh sure! You stupid idiot pushed her away. We don't know the reason but I am positive that it's your fault." Mina said, this time looking straight at Katsuki.

"She was flirting with Deku! Stupid shit!"

"Wait, what?" Mina blinked. "Flirting with Midoriya?"

"Whatever."

"Did you get jealous when Midoriya complimented her?" Mina asked as if her brain was gradually getting the pieces together.

"No. Why the fuck would I?"

"Oh my gosh!! You did!" Mina stood up from her seat making Denki and Sero jump. "You got jealous because Midoriya was complimenting her! You thought she was flirting!"

"Shut the fuck up! I didn't!"

'Is that why he reacted that way?' Eijiro thought as he thought back to Katsuki's reaction when Mina said something about Y/n being single.

"Fucking outta here." Katsuki stood up and just left.

"Well, there he goes," Denki said. "So much for celebration."

"I think you pushed too much, Mina," Eijiro said.

"The way he reacted though. It seems like I was right." Mina pouted.

"You might be. But I talked to Miss Y/n and it seems like both of them don't want to discuss this." Eijiro sighed. "We know Bakubro, and we know he'll apologize. Maybe not today."

...

Katsuki settled himself in his car. He despised that Pinky could instantly guess what happened. He also despised how right she was.

He knew he screwed up. He's just waiting for the right time to apologize. A moment to cool down.

Why was he even jealous in the first place, anyway?

Cursing himself, he started the engine and drove to a certain location.

PART 21

I have no idea how long this was but I just felt like it's time to get back in here and finish this. Haha! It's really short but I hope it's worth the wait. Thank you for all your patience and understanding! 😍

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader

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imaginethezeldaverse · 9 months

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Ahhh I love your work! Every work of yours I’ve read has been absolutely amazing, you write so beautifully. I was wondering if I could maybe request a Revali x reader headcanons of Rito mating season or heat/rut? Have a wonderful day/night as well!

Hmmm okay, I think I can give you a few off the top of my head, sure! Since we're talking about a mating season, I'm going to write reader a female/afab/child-bearing capable perspective, if that's okay. There's a headcanon I have that will involve that aspect (so trigger warning for that too btw - I'll add it in in the tags but just an fyi!) I also added a little mini fic in there for funsies lol enjoy!

It's overwhelming for him. Being with you is the first time his heat has ever truly affected him before, so the experience engulfs the poor Rito man. It's a new experience for you both.

He's scared he'll hurt you - like...actually scared. For as headstrong as he can be and how well he carries himself, he very much is still a hero - and that means no harm comes to people that don't deserve it. Especially you - who he loves so dearly and would give his ability to fly if it came down to it.

His instincts are so strong he almost can't control them this time. There's a sensation in him that needs to breed you - take you over and over until he knows he's successfully put a child in you.

Should you decide to help him, he's definitely not going to be gentle. You'll likely sustain some scratches, rug burn, and a few hickies here from his love bites. He's giving in to inhibition here, running with something more primal and animalistic than either of you are used to. But if that scares you - please heed his warning and leave! He absolutely would not hold it against you.

Afterwards, he's very cuddly and it's then you'll realize that he's made a makeshift nest out of a bunch of soft things he owned: garments, shed feathers, even all of his scarves that he's owned through the years. He'll hold you to his chest (and his heart is beating FAST), his chirps and trills are quiet but against your body you hear him clear as day. It takes a few minutes for him to slip back into a less animal-like frame of mind, so forgive him if he doesn't answer any questions or respond to you coherently right away.

Normally Revali had never had an issue with mating season before recent - without a mate to call his own, the ruts were never something he couldn't handle. However, after falling for you, the creation of an unbreakable bond of love and trust changes things inside him. His Rito DNA senses the deep affection he holds for you and ultimately alters his internal biology to reflect as such. So when mating season comes around, you're both blissfully unaware at first. Until you walk into his hut and find him doubled over. The scent of you hits him right away, and in a very rough, shaky voice he begs you not to come any closer. But you can clearly see that he's sweating profusely, feathers fluffed and tousled. He's disheveled and groaning in what sounds like pain so immediately you're thinking he's injured...or worse.

When you try to approach him again he raises his voice to leave him alone. "Please!" he begs - and the red alarms in your head are blaring because he is not one to beg for anything - "I need you...t-to leave..." his head hangs and his chest heaves as he tries to keep a semblance of his decency intact, "I c-c-can't...pro...tect you..." You look at him confused, protect you from what? There's currently no danger! Scanning the room, you still don't understand. But then you remember, from a book you'd read a while ago that Princess Zelda has lent to you (just so you could understand Rito culture a bit better) - spring always meant mating season. Your eyes connect with the foliage that peeks just outside of Revali's window - an elder tree in full bloom. So Revali was-- "Let me help you," you offer, realizing now why he seemed so pained. You didn't think about the decision, didn't think about the repercussions - all you wanted was for him to no longer be in distress. The black pupils of this emerald eyes withered to slits. His breathing picks up, a few short huffs away from a hyperventilation. With the last shred of coherent thought he could must, he exhaled out, "I'll...hurt...you..."

Perhaps it was your bravery, or maybe your caring, stubborn heart that would shrug off your coat, laying it on the ground before him. Revali watches you through his exasperated panting, the erection in his lower garments straining terribly, though he's trying to hide it. The groan he lets out sends a chill down your own spine when you move to gently cup his beak in your hands. As soon as you understood what was happening, you knew the risk of staying there. "I don't care, Revali...I know what you need..." his feather take on a more purple shade as he flushes, "...And I want to help you."

You barely have time to undo the bodice portion of your dress when your hands release his face and you turn to undress, because he almost immediately pins you down. His rush on your body has you landing a little awkwardly on your chest and stomach, but it's soothed by the sensation of long, soft fingered-feathers caressing your sensitive skin. The Rito's beak pecks everywhere he can reach, even plucking at your sleeves to release more of your skin from your dress. You feel his taloned foot wrap around your ankle, not necessarily doing anything to you other than anchoring you beneath him. His winged digits pinch your nipples to stiffness: the combination of those pulses of electricity and the very obvious hardness poking at your backside have you gasping already.

His rut makes him impatient; you know this as you already feel fingers circling your entrance, half to rile you up further, half to make sure you're ready. But again - Revali is impatient, and so up goes your dress, over your hips. There's brief shuffling behind you and then just as you brace your hand around what would essentially be his wrist, Revali is already spreading your legs and sliding between them. The pressure of him inside of you has you keening, and you're thankful for the little bit of foreplay you were given, making you just wet enough to accommodate him. The wing that toyed with your chest was now crowding around your neck, pulling your body upright and flush against his chest as he took you.

Revali is far less than gentle, the rough huffs and deep chitters falling over your skin as he held you still: one wing wound very loosely around your neck, the other gripping your thigh for purchase. His beak nibbled at whatever flesh he could reach. "Re...valiiiiii" you whined out, breath hitching mid thrust. But he could not hear you, his mind so incensed with fucking you to fullness, more avian than anything else as he slammed his hips into you. Yes, he would bed you multiple times that evening, and in multiple positions no less, spilling his seed so deep inside you, even he wasn't able to get you pregnant - he was surely going to take you like he planned on it.

------

After all is said and done, you eventually wake upon a bed of soft clothes and feathers. As you look down you realize it's shaped meticulously, as though it was made to have a form. It was then you realize his need to mate had him go through all of the motions: including building a nest for his mate. You look up at your Rito Champion, the tufts of his feathers much more relaxed than earlier as he rests. Your fingers gently stroke his beak, and the pleased chirp he lets out warms your heart. His wings wrap around your frame a little tighter; your hands waft through the down of his chest. You've no idea if this means you'll actually conceive or not - but you do know you don't mind in the least. You love Revali entirely, you wouldn't have offered if you didn't, and you're hoping that making love to him through his rut was proof enough. His beak finds your temple, carefully nibble and peck at the strands of your hair as if to preen you - it makes you giggle, his animal instincts still showing out in small ways as he settles down into sleep.

You'd assess any repercussions of his rougher handling when you awoke later, right now it just felt good to be in his arms like this.

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

i read an old fic that was tagged no archive warnings, but it had what i would call a fairly non-con scene. however, the author seemed to think that the character being assaulted consented because he was aroused (yikes, someone flunked sex ed!) even though he's in pain during the sex, but he just takes it and is ultimately ok with it in retrospect. it was a very violent scene - he was thrown up against the wall - and i felt really blindsided in an otherwise romantic fic. is this reportable? there were other comments seeming to be disturbed by the scene, and suggesting adding a non-con or chose not to warn tag, and other commenters who were disturbed. i'm not triggered by rape but it's not my cup of tea, the fact that the author seemed to frame it as the assaulter just being unable to help himself because his love was so strong threw off the rest of the fic for me. i could very easily see it being triggering for someone. there's nothing else in tags or rest of the fic that would indicate that was coming.

Hmm... Well, anything is reportable. Whether PAC will agree with you and force the author to pick between tagging CNTW and noncon is another story.

This sounds like a clear-cut case of mislabeling, especially if there's no dubcon tag on it.

Short answer: Yes, I would report.

Long answer:

It does not sound like this fic is actually that old if the author is responding to comments and disagreeing with people's interpretations as is sort of vaguely implied here.

People being potentially triggered is irrelevant: people are often triggered by things they project onto a fic or by things that don't require archive warnings. But if it's tagged inaccurately, then yes, PAC will take action.

Without reading the fic myself, I have no idea whether I'd agree it needs a tag.

My own perspective as a writer who loves dubcon and dislikes sad noncon is that readers very frequently project hard. There's nothing about the sex being painful or the character being thrown against a wall that necessarily suggests the fic is noncon. I've had painful sex on purpose because it was hot.

For me, a "very violent" written sex scene would generally involve blood or physical damage from sex. I'm talking vaginal/anal tearing or something, not finger-shaped bruises on arms from being shoved against a wall. (The fic doesn't have to be violent to be noncon. My point is more that wall shoving strikes me as small potatoes, so it makes me wonder if I'd share the rest of your interpretation or not.)

I've written plenty of things where the kink is clearly telegraphed and anyone who finds it hot gets what was supposed to be happening, but some readers interpret this as the "victim" being traumatized and in denial because they don't share this kink and find it hard to believe that anyone could be like that.

I've also written things where the "victim" is super into it but is genuinely trying to stop the proceedings for other reasons and the aggressor has zero reason to think it's consensual. I do generally think those need a noncon rather than a dubcon warning since there's an active no as opposed to just a lack of a clear yes. I've written things where the "victim" is fully consenting, but the aggressor isn't for various reasons. The most relevant tag really depends on exactly how something is played.

I've also had fic imported from old archives or uploaded my old fic and barely remembered it. I was just reviewing my old tags and thinking "Why on earth is this one CNTW... Oh my!", having entirely forgotten a rape scene in something that's considerably darker than what I usually write (but where there aren't really any emotional consequences, hence me having forgotten). If the fic is old old and the author isn't responding to comments, they may genuinely just not remember what the content is. (Granted, if this is actually what happened, they ought to have imported it with CNTW to cover their ass till they could review the work.)

A bunch of readers agreeing with you suggests that your interpretation is probably accurate in this case. The situation you outline is not unusual. It's just that I have plenty of experience with the other option.

If you think it's this clear cut, it's worth reporting. Hell, even if you think it's somewhat ambiguous, it's worth reporting.

The worst that will happen is that PAC will agree with you and the author will be angry or that PAC won't agree with you and you'll have wasted a little bit of staff time.

If the author isn't around, PAC has the ability to add the CNTW warning themselves (but not the noncon one).

Honestly, there's very little downside in reporting on AO3, regardless of what you're reporting or why. The consequences for the reported author are minimal, and cases are reviewed by actual humans, none of this nonsense where some platforms delete accounts that get reported too often.

Unless you're reporting 100 things a day or reporting things without reading the rules, you should never feel guilty about using that option on AO3.

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plutobutartsy · 6 months

Text

some sam redesign attempts + a closeup of my favourite one :3

[ID:

First Image:

A page of different designs for Sam.

Top left: Sam is depicted as a black man with long locs that he wears in a high ponytail with two of them framing his face. His ears are long and pointy and he has some small wrinkles under his eyes. He has multiple piercings on his ears, as well as an eyebrow piercing and a septum piercing. He's wearing an open flannel with tartan print and some pins on it over a tanktop. This drawing is more of a sketch and coloured in various shades of grey. Writing next to it says "hair dark brown/black + a few blond locs maybe?". More text clarifies that this was my first attempt at a redesign for him.

Bottom left: Sam as a darkskinned black man. His black hair is worn in short, jaw length locs that are swept away from his face, safe for one that falls down the middle of his forehead. His ears are long and pointy and he has some wrinkles under his eyes as well as some crows feet near the end of them. His cheekbones are defined and he has a light stubble on his cheeks and near his mouth. His nose is somewhat wide and bumpy. Both of his fangs are exposes. His eyes are a blend of a pinkish red and grey.

Top right: Sam yet again depicted as a darkskinned black man. His tight curls are long and go way past his shoulders with part of it partly cornrowed along the side of his head and ending in regular braids. Some blond and grey strands are threaded through his otherwise black hair. The three cornrows/braids are decorated with gold cuffs and spiral accessories wrapped around them. His ears are long and pointy here as well and his nose is long and wide. He has wrinkles under his eyes, defined cheekbones and a light stubble. His eyes are a similar blend of pink and gray as in the drawing before and both of his fangs are exposed, one of which is gold.

Bottom right: A bunch of clothing pngs to showcase Sam's potential wardrobe. They include two different brown leather jackets, a red button up, a brown long sleeve shirt and two variations of an outfit that consists of jeans, a tight cropped jean vest and a shirt underneath.

Second image:

A closeup of the design on the top right of the previous image.

End ID]

taglist: @febreze-bottle-without-febreze @beemybella @soup-scope @celestecreateschaos @puffin-smoke @6-atlas-6 @deviantaj @echovale052 @xanyiaz (if you want to be added to the tag list, please specify wether you want to be tagged in ALL my art or only fanart for specific fandoms <3)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted fanart #redacted sam #redacted solaire clan #stella's constellations

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 2 months

Text

A quick analysis of AFO's origin, the world frame of bnha and the core themes of the story :

From reading other people's metas and reading the leaks when they came out, my only solid take about it is that you cannot talk about bnha and the core theme of the perpetuation of violence without understanding how the Hero Society and the hero vs villain culture came to be.

That's what AFO origin is for.

Let's see if I can explain it:

In stories where a group of people suddenly gains powers, you'll always see that authors worry to portray how a change like that would affect the world at the moment. What does it mean that part of the global population now has access to something that others don't? Does that make them "better humans"? Are they superior to the rest and therefore should control them? Are they a danger to society? Should they be repressed or eliminated?

The thing is that powers can be viewed as a metaphor to real life situations we face. People with disabilities deal with the whole stupid idea that they are less than the rest of humanity all the time. You have sexism and racism and a bunch of other problems that at heart are about how to deal with different existences. Should people with certain privileges rule the world? Etc etc etc.

For a second, think of having superpowers as having a ton of money. Those with more money can help others or totally ruin their lives, right? In our world, people with money are directly involved in how justice works. They can corrupt the system or make it work, you know how it is. Yet, people with money are only people. We are all just that. Humans. No matter the amount of privileges, you can't escape your own humanity.

The way a person looks, the amount of money they own, where they are from, how they identify as, none of that makes a person more or less human. Similarly, having powers or the nature of said powers... It doesn't make a person less of a person, you know?

When you apply that logic to superpowers, you get what MHA is trying to say.

AFO lived in these specific conditions that were a result of the violence of his time. He would have ended up bitter anyway, because since he was born he was marked as a threat. When you reject someone like that, when you reject their humanity and you make an enemy out of there, you're not asking for a nice ending. If you teach them that they have to fight for the right to exist, you are asking for a war. It's like that in our world, it's like that in bnha.

What I'm trying to say is that superpowers are just an added variable in the complex equation of human coexistence.

The moment superpowers start to appear, society has to adapt fast. People that are also weapons don't mix well with the world's problems, after all. If you want to prevent mass killings, you need to set a system that rules the allowed behaviors and balances out the board. It's a relief that humanity is both capable of great horrors and wonders, so to every criminal that's set to use their powers for evil, you'll get an individual that wants to use their powers to stop them.

That's how vigilantes were born.

Then comes the legalization of powers and the individuals who use it to protect the system. That is how you get villains (people outside the law) and heroes (people following the law).

Violà. You have the same set of problems with a new feature: quirks.

How does this connect to AFO, you ask?

AFO's origin explains the complexity of the bnha universe, comparing it to our own. It also shows that there is always a context, as in situational factors that contribute to a person being the way that person is.

That doesn't excuse who AFO became, tho. The general rule dictates that we are responsible for our choices and actions in the face of the reality we were presented with. Maybe not while we are kids, because we don't have the maturity to make those choices. However, the moment we become adults, we cannot blame our choices anymore in the world around us. If you have the frame of mind to stop hurting people and you don't, that is on you. You chose to perpetuate the violence.

Of course, simplifications don't do any good and bnha makes that clear too.

A tale of heroes that are always good and villains that are always bad is just that, fiction. When the bnha society started believing that said fiction was their reality, that's when the real struggle of bnha started. Villains and heroes stopped being perceived as such. The dehumanization went both ways. The heroes became untouchable gods and the villains unforgivable demons. The civilians all excused their apathy and lack of action by saying they couldn't do anything in such a world.

People ran away from their responsibility by putting all the weight on the heroes shoulders and ignoring whatever felt uncomfortable or mildly disturbing.

See how quickly we were able to analyze bnha?

That's what I meant when I said at the start that AFO's backstory is crucial to the story frame of the manga. If AFO had been a villain just because, then you'd have a story of evil without reason that would validate the idea of extreme moralities of black and white. Since that's not the case, we got more depth in general.

It all connects to the message Horikoshi is trying to communicate. If you compare bnha to other shonens, you'll get the feeling that they all have something to say about that violence, about the way the world is structured and how people move around it.

It's a basic of storytelling, sure. It's just that now you have the knowledge to properly study bnha, or something like that.

At some point I'll have to reread the manga and pay attention to AFO's origin... That's everything for now, tho. Hope you enjoyed it whdhjsbdjd

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shan's bnha opinions #shan's mha opinions #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #afo #all for one

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juney-blues · 1 year

Text

ever since i made THIS POST a lot of people have been asking for a tutorial, even though in pretty much all of the screenshots i included the specific part of inspect element showing exactly what i edited.

so buckle the fuck up I guess because the tumblr userbase want to find out how to make html pages unusable and who am I to deny you.

get ready for Baby's First HTML and CSS tutorial lmao

ok so first things first we need to go over BASIC HTML

html is made up of these things called "tags" which specify certain parts of the web page, such as

HEADERS (<h1> through <h6> in terms of importance)

PARAGRAPHS (<p>paragraph here</p>)

LINKS (<a href="linkhere"></a>)

BOLDED SECTIONS OF TEXT(<b>bold here</b>)

and a bunch of other stuff,

by default however, specifying all of this just gives us a plain white page with plain black text of varying sizes

that's of course, no fucking good, and sucks shit, so the arbiters of html decided to let us STYLE certain elements, by adding a STYLE parameter to the tag

this can change any number of elements about how things are formatted.

text colour, page colour, font, size, spacing between elements, text alignment, you name it? you can change it!

you might've noticed that, certain elements are nested in other elements

and that any changes that apply to one element, apply to everything included under that element!

how convenient!

anyway this method of styling things by adding a style=" " to their tags is called "in-line style"

i think because the "style" goes "in" the "line"

it's generally ALSO a pain in the ass to style an entire website like this and should be exclusively reserved for small changes that you only want to apply to specific parts of the page.

for any real change in style you want to create a <style> section in your page's header!

this can be used to make changes to how all elements of a type in your page are displayed

or even add new elements with whatever wacky styling you want that can be used with the <div> tag!

wow! isn't css just dandy!

and hell you can even use External CSS™ if you're making multiple pages and want them all to have a consistent theme, by pointing to a .CSS file (which is basically just a <style> header without the <style> tags lmao

ok this is all well and good and very interesting if, say, you're making your own website

*cough*neocities*cough*itsreallycoolandfree*cough*

but you came here because you want to FUCK UP A WEBSITE and make it look STUPID!!

so this is where the transform css property comes in~

you can read up on it HERE if you want the details but basically it allows you to apply mathematical transformations to any html element you want,

all of these fun bastards,

they can be really useful if you're doing some complicated stupid bullshit like me

OR for having fun >:)

if you'll remember, earlier i said that css properties apply to literally everything nested in an element,

and you MIGHT notice, that literally everything in pretty much all html files, is nested in an <html> tag

you can use style=" " or regular css on pretty much ANY html tag,

INCLUDING HTML!

ok ok that was a lot of buildup for something that i could've explained in one or two lines, but i gave you all this fundamental knowledge for a reason,

well, two reasons, go make a neocities

CHAPTER 2: THIS POST HAS CHAPTERS NOW

CSS KEY FRAMES BABYYYY

THESE FUCKERS DON'T WORK AS INLINE STYLING

I HAD TO TEACH YOU HOW CSS WORKED, TO GIVE YOU THE KNOWLEDGE YOU NEED, TO ANIMATE PAGES. TO MAKE THE FUCKERY COMPLETE!!!!

OKAY SO AGAIN READ UP ON THIS IF YOU WANT THE FULLEST POSSIBLE UNDERSTANDING

BUT WHAT KEYFRAMES ALLOW YOU TO DO, IS ANIMATE CSS PROPERTIES

and then make a class, which calls that animation...

and then assign that class. to your html tag.

and then vomit forever

we can do it in 3d too,

the only limit is your imagination... (and how many parameters you want to look up on w3schools and mozilla mdn web docs)

CHAPTER 3: APPLYING IN PRACTICE

ok now the fun thing about all of this, is you can apply it to your blog theme, literally right now

like literally RIGHT now

like step one, make sure you have a custom blog theme enabled in your settings, because that's turned off by default for some reason

step 2: edit theme

step 3: edit html:

step 4: apply knowledge in practice >:)

#juney.txt #html #css #web development #psa #long post

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windvexer · 1 year

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I think "spreadwork" sounds weird but idk what else to call it

I think a lot of modern tarot spreads assume that the key to a powerful spread is figuring out exactly how to phrase a question, and so the best spreads have the most curated lists of questions.

If we take a spread type people seem to have trouble with - let's go with spirit communication - the take seems to be, "you're just not wording your question correctly," or, "you're just not asking the right questions."

So a spirit communication tarot spread becomes, "here is a list of seven carefully worded questions - draw one card for each."

I'm not denying that learning how to frame questions is an important part of reading tarot.

But I do think it might not be as important as learning how to build spreads that are resilient enough to answer almost any question (within a certain category), even if it's phrased badly.

I think a huge part of tarot (and one that may unfortunately be lost or difficult to obtain with digital decks) is learning, for lack of a better term, "spreadwork" - how the actual placement and designations of the cards are actively involved in adding information to your reading.

When I say "designations" of the cards, here is what I mean:

Some spreads assign a specific question to a card, while other spreads designate what part of your own question a card should answer.

Suppose you would like a reading on your career. If you go to find a premade spread, one of them might look like this:

Card 1: What to focus on in your work life.

Card 2: Your greatest professional strength.

This spread is providing a list of inquiries. You draw one card for each.

However, a different spread may provide designations to respond to a topic of your own choosing, like this:

Card 1: What you are wrong about, or see without clarity.

Card 2: Information you thought was important, but won't end up mattering.

In this second example, we can choose our own specific question, such as, "will this job opportunity work out, or should I start looking for a new job?" And the spread will start giving answers: "When it comes to your job opportunity, what you're wrong about is..."

This is in contrast to the first set, where the questions are provided for you. "Should you seek a new job? Well, your greatest professional strength is being a good listener, does that help?"

And I think as readers, some of that skill - to learn how to assign your own designations - has been lost, superseded by emphasis on learning how to phrase questions.

There are infinite ways to designate a card, but we can consider a few common categories: signifiers; past, present, or future; final outcome; significant details and major theme; subtext and external influences; pitfalls, roadblocks or easiest paths; advice; and a category which I'll call negative cards - "this is not the correct path, this is not the advice to take away from this reading, this is not going to be the outcome."

And then you start to say - okay. I want to work with a signifier. That's my first card. But this spread is about feeling burdened, so when I place my cards, the signifier will be at the "bottom" of the spread.

And I want to know the most major thing blocking me. It's important - I'll put it at the top. One card. But that's not enough detail. So below that I'll have a couple of triads - the details triad, the past/present/future triad, and the "what am I doing wrong?" triad. Now it's an eleven card spread - one signifier, one major theme, and a set of three triads with their own designations.

Then you work with the spread a few times, and it flows okay, but not great. Details are repeated. There's a lot of dead weight on this spread, and the most difficult part to work with is the "what am I doing wrong?" triad.

So now we practice spreadwork (cardwork? idk.). And we take that troublesome triad and make it, "what is my best advice? What am I doing right?"

But of course that doesn't fit with the flow, it's a bunch of support cards in the middle of a blockage spread, so you take that triad out and put it beneath the burdened signifier - and now it's a foundation of support, a solid rock on which to stand.

This is what I mean by learning to work with spreads as a skill regardless of how you phrase the question. At that point, what does it matter if you phrase the question "what is blocking me?" or "what is my greatest blockage?" or "show me what's stopping me from succeeding?"

The question and how it's phrased becomes incidental to learning to work with the flow of information, learning to feel the energetic movement between the cards.

Do you always have to draw clarifiers for a certain card? Examine your designation - what piece of information do you always need to make the reading complete? Then add in a new permanent position to fill that need - "this is my greatest burden (card 1), it specifically exists within this part of my life (card 2)."

There are other aspects to explore also - will you flip over all the cards at once, or just one at a time? Will you lay the cards out in a geometric grid and read the relationships between mirrored pairs? Will you stack cards on top of each other? Will you move and rearrange the cards half-way through the reading to produce something danged awesome?

I'm sure people are getting tired of me ranting about it, but the longer I read, the more I become convinced that the pictures on the card and the book meanings that go along with it take up such a smaller piece of the interpretation pie than I once believed. I now believe that other factors - such as how you choose to organize a spread, and the designations within it - constitute a large part of the information flow within a tarot spread. I think it is somewhat telling that if I want to do a very specific, concise reading, the "card meanings" constitute a minority of information gathering.

#tarot #tarot spread #tarot spreads #ok done with the flood of tarot info i think i got it all out of my system #thanks for listening guys #hey if you have a better word than spreadwork lay it on me

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melodiousmonsters · 1 year

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Alright for the first somewhat finished page for my "monstiary" project is blow't because a friend asked me to draw one, I got hyperfixated, and then ended up with a whole bunch of drawings.

btw I'm going to start infodumping on almost all the art posts I make for the time being because I want to talk about my cannon-adjacent version of the monster world more so here we go.

Blow'ts are large amphibious monsters with anatomy somewhat between that of a fish and a mammal. btw I feel like blow't is a very underrated design because people tend to base what's cool or not on a more "terrestrial" frame of reference. But if you think of fish or something (particularly spiny lumpsuckers in this context) something may seem much more interesting design-wise. Like lumpsuckers they have those weird suction cup fins on the bottom of their bodies, which are mostly used for walking actually. Unless it's a baby, then they'll stick to whatever they want whenever they want with no regard to anyone else's wishes

To support their massive sizes blow'ts are filter feeders that primarily eat the stardust that falls from the aurora monstralis out of the air (or water if it ends up in there). Their spines are obviously covered in ridges, but what's less known is those ridges are full of openings to chambers that absorb oxygen and stardust like an unholy combination of lungs and the intestines.

Blow'ts breath in through their spines to not constantly be making noise and out through their non existant noses. Adding nose holes would clutter their face too much so just pretend they have noses ok? When blow'ts breath out of their spines they produce a sound, and the sound vibrates their spines in a way that makes them glow various colors of the visible light spectrum depending on the note played.

Because biology and evolution leans towards things making music, often inconvenient body plans or biological processes will remain if they mean the creature can make sound, especially in monsters.

While adult blow'ts tend to stay on land a majority of the time, the babies are very fond of the seas around light island and they tend to stay in the water. Because they are smaller and their fins are bigger in proportion to their bodies they can swim. To get enough food to grow to their adult size they may occasionally eat fish or any other small critters they come across, thus the fear this lightsquid, a critter endemic to the oceans around light island, is expressing in the presence of one of it's most efficient predators.

Anyway, if you read through this I hope you enjoyed because this is probably how most of my posts will be formatted. There's going to be more pseudo-scientific monster biology posts later on but if you just want some information without any images you can ask me and I can just type stuff out, maybe with a skribble or two alongside it. Doesn't even need to be biology related if it's just about my msm au thing I'll probably answer it if it's not relevant to the barely existent plot thing.

#my singing monsters #beezleart #art #melodious monster chronicles #blow't

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madameriasims4 · 2 years

Text

Quinn Shirt

BGC

Found in Button Ups

Tagged for masc frames, Everyday, Formal, Party, and Hot Weather

In two standalone versions: MadameRiaQuinnShirtLeliana (in my Leliana palette), & MadameRiaQuinnShirtAveline (in @anvilesi's Aveline palette). You can have either or both in your game.

No fashion rarity tags.

Download Link below the cut!

Full disclosure, I made this shirt because I absolutely adore the Cuban Collar Shirt by @theslyd, but I wanted something more maxis-matchy. Technically, this shirt is also a frankenmesh of two tops from Romantic Garden and Jungle Adventure.

I actually held off on posting this shirt because partway through, I decided I couldn't make previews without pairing the shirt with a turtleneck at least once, and I didn't have any accessory shirts that worked, so I stopped everything and made some.

You can grab the accessory tops seen in the main image here.

I've also been workshopping a palette that I'm growing to really like (too many greens? No such thing!) and while I was working on this shirt, I came across a bunch of gorgeous palettes by @anvilesi and was really tickled to see how similar our palettes were! Their Aveline palette filled some gaps I felt like my WIP palette was lacking, so I decided to go ahead and make two versions. I have since settled on naming my own palette "Leliana" (any DA fans in the house?), even if I haven't exactly settled on the colors yet. The search for the Holy Grail of palettes continues...

Download (Patreon) Always free, no ads.

#ts4 cc #ts4 maxis match #ts4 mm #ts4 base game cc #ts4 cas cc #my cc

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cream-stew · 2 years

Note

OHHHH Pierro!! <3 <3 <3 AFAB bratty sub reader, teasing, nipple play and spanking please! - 🧶🧶

🔞 minors dni

warnings: afab reader, spanking, nipple play, rough sex, brat reader, pussy slapping

// note: the request was sent in 3 asks so I added the other 2 under the cut to keep this preview short. it was really fun to write tbh thank you for requesting✌️

That man EXUDES pride. And as the person closest to him, there's nothing you enjoy more than making him lose control while he works. He frowns at how your snugly (perfectly) your uniform hugs your body, obviously a size too small. He can't look away from how your nipples peak through your clothes, and the knowing smile on your face only enrages him more. But even as his calloused fingers itch to roughly twist those nubs, Pierro WILL remain civil, his face chilly as always. - 🧶🧶 It's only when you happen to bend over, and he catches the outline of your perfect ass and pussy through your skin-tight pants, that he snaps. You both know you won when he throws you over his shoulders and rushes to his chambers. You have a strict (and pleasurable) punishment ahead of you and you will eagerly take it. - 🧶🧶

he stares at you, scowling the whole time, as you do your usual charade of pretending his office is just soooo warm, and that you just have to shed your uniform. it's way too hot in there to be wearing your coat, how could he accuse you of doing this on purpose? :(

(except he does, of course, because you are doing it on purpose……)

still, he knows pointing it out will only mean you succeeded in distracting him, so ignores you entirely, like he does every time this happens.

today you came prepared tho! you've ordered another uniform, one size smaller, and when you're down to your undershirt there's just no hiding the lines of your bra, and the perky nipples under it !

you can feel his eyes on you as you get through your tasks, organizing paperwork for him, and even bringing him a little snack when you come back from your break. a few hours in, you think it's time to use the ace up your sleeve: you "clumsily" drop something, and kick it under his desk "by mistake". he huffs as you apologize profusely, but you hear him take a sharp breath when you drop to your knees and pretend to reach for whatever it is you've dropped.

you can feel the item under the tips of your fingers, but you pretend like you can't get to it as an excuse to keep your position, rising your ass higher and flattening your upper body to the floor, even letting out some whiny moans for good measure.

he's definitely looking at you, you're sure of it, he couldn't possibly look away at how your skin-tight pants frame your ass so nicely, and at how you know your fat pussy lips are visible as well.

exactly according to plan, you hear him scoff as he stands up, and walks closer to grope your ass.

you moan again, louder, and rub back against his hand, giddy. his other hand settles at the back of your neck to push your head down as he spanks you so so harshly, finally making you moan for real, and you know you won.

he gives you a few more spanks mixed with hearty gropes, even reaching down to rub over your pussy lips until there's a damp patch on your pants, and you're whimpering by the time he picks you up by your waist, then drags you out of the office with him. you keep stumbling after him, both due to his brisk pace and longer legs, and to how distracted you are, already imagining what he's going to do to you🥺 so he just picks you up again and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you the rest of the way, clearly too impatient to bear with it any longer.

he dumps you on his bed carelessly, then he's immediately over you to strip you completely, ripping up your tight shirt and bunching up your bra, to finally play with your nipples without any more obstructions.

you whimper as he pinches and twists, and you uselessly grab at his wrists. he's still frowning at you when you look up at him, your lips parted so prettily, and he scoffs again.

"you brat", he scolds you, "are you happy now? happy that I have to use you until I'm sated, then punish you so you won't do this again?"

you pretend to look remorseful at his words, and he seems to like it… he keeps fondling your chest harshly, squeezing your tits until it hurts, and reveling in the way you squirm and whimper without ever trying to get away from his grip.

when he's had enough of it, he rolls you on your stomach and rips up your pants, tearing a large hole right over your plump asscheeks, and all the way down to your dripping pussy, the fabric so flimsy that it gives way as if they were nothing more than stockings.

he spanks you again, and it stings harder now that it's hitting your skin, and you just keep moaning even louder, laying flat on his mattress, your clothes torn to shreds as he punishes you🥰

his next spank lands on your pussy, making you gasp at how good it feels, and he lets out a disapproving noise. "look at how wet you are, brat, just what should I do to teach you a lesson?"

you're tempted to beg him to fuck you, but you know he'd just deny you out of spite :( you just jiggle your asscheeks instead, enticing him to grope them again. he pulls off your ruined pants and underwear, then finally gets rid of your bra too. it feels so good to be completely naked under him as he's still fully clothed, joining you on the bed to crouch over you. you hear him unzip his pants, and the fat head of his cock prods your wet pussy, parting your folds and sliding inside in just one thrust.

he mounts you so easily, pressing you firmly against the mattress and holding you still by your shoulders. he starts fucking you immediately, his cock dragging in and out of you and stretching you until you feel sooo full and pliant under him !

tho you cum twice from it even if this is supposed to be punishment for you, so he has to spank you again :( he's so displeased with you that his pace keeps getting rougher and rougher, and you just can't help cumming a third time🥺

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #pierro x reader #pierro smut #🧶🧶 anon

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