#<- check the tag for more info too

[danieyells]

Tokyo Debunker Stigmas, Artifacts, And Other Possibly Combat Relevant Information

Since we've met all of our current ghouls, I decided to share my non-comprehensive list of the stigmas and powers and weapons of the ghouls we've seen so far!! This isn't all of them because they haven't all been revealed or explained. But it should be everything we've seen so far! Let me know if/where I've missed things! I've also mentioned some other details for some of them, namely the less human ghouls.

Jin Kamurai

Stigma

Incantation - Bianerus

Effect - forces the target to obey his command.

Currently cannot be activated without the PC's enhancement. At present, only Tohma, the PC, and few if any others know this.

Incantation can be recited mentally

Continuous commands("kneel") only seem to last a few minutes at most

Artifact

Sword - teleportation

Can be used to cut a portal into the air for teleporting someone with him, but doesn't appear to need this for just teleporting Jin

Tohma Ishibashi

Stigma

Incantation - Argeas

Effect - "lets him send vibrations long distances"

Vibrations include the vibrations from his voice, allowing his voice to carry longer distances, making him heard further away

When enhanced he can break through anomalous soundproofing and better specify the direction his vibrations carry(as neither Kaito nor Luca heard his voice from outside the room)

Artifact

Halberd - ?

Other

Tohma naturally has "brute strength" which, combined with his stigma, allows him to essentially make earthquakes.

Lucas Errant

Stigma

Incantation - Iggnaim

Effect - creates a barrier.

When enhanced the barrier becomes visible. It's significantly larger and supported by a large anomaly that's invisible to everyone but the PC and perhaps Kaito, even unable to be seen on cameras or by Luca himself.

Artifact

Twin blades - ?

Appear identical aside from a difference in color.

Smashed through reenforced glass to choose him as their new master.

Apparently sound to Luca like a crying child. He believes the child must be begging for his help.

Other

Carries around a knife.

Kaito Fuji

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - "can see auras sometimes?"

So far hasn't been seen/used, and Hyde didn't sound certain about what it does.

Kaito has notably enhanced vision, able to see things that are further away and surprisingly skilled at reading lips.

Kaito screams when Luca's stigma is enhanced, looking straight up at the anomaly it spawned despite no one else but the PC appearing to see it. While it's possible he only saw its aura, it's likely he saw the anomaly itself.

Artifact

Rogue bow - ?

Veers nonsensically off path when shot, except, seemingly, if Kaito truly wishes to hit the target(?)

Alan Mido

Stigma

Incantation - Yagsal Olbalsa

Effect - super strength.

Artifact

Lead pipe - ?

Leo Kurosagi

Stigma

Incantation - Haxs

Effect - super hearing.

Increases distance and precision of his hearing. Does not allow him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.

When enhanced increases distance further and allows him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.

Artifact

Bubble gum - can be manipulated into any shape when blown.

The longer it's chewed, the longer he can manipulate it

Shohei Haizono

"So if I chewed this one a bunch and stuck it over your nose and mouth...

"...you'd suffocate. Bye bye Honor Roll."

suggests that it can't be removed until the time he's manipulated it runs out?

Stigma

Incantation - Spurno

Effect - forces change in direction.

When enhanced the change in direction is more forceful, like a knockback effect.

Artifact

Motorcycle - ?

Her name is Bonnie. She eats food placed in her fuel tank instead of gasoline, including chewing it and even burping. She's picky about what she eats. Her favorite food is barbecue sandwiches, but she also eats jerky.

Sho drives her just about everywhere.

Haru Sagara

Stigma

Incantation - Bahnti

Effect - reduces gravity's effects on his own body.

Reduced effect of gravity allows him to move extremely fast.

Makes his body much more fragile when used. Possibly includes weakening his immune system?

Artifact

Deck brush - ?

Towa Otonashi

Stigma

Incantation - ? (has an audio file, but the spelling hasn't been shown.)

Effect - Controls weather?

Towa exhibits control over weather as his primary ability, however because it's not shown to be in response to his incantation it's somewhat dubious as to whether or not it's actually his stigma.

Others' understanding of Towa's stigma is only that he controls lightning and that other weather patterns are random, not in response to Towa's feelings.

The weather reacts to Towa's emotions, causing the sky to darken in preparation of rain, lightning, or snowstorms when he's angry.

When Towa was away from Jabberwock for a day the nature conditions deteriorated significantly, with water drying up and the sky dark despite it being sunny the previous day. This may be coincidental, as Darkwick's weather is said to be unpredictable.

Towa is also able to predict weather that he doesn't control.

Towa can create lightning(which he uses to electrocute enemies), rain, wind(used to create a pillar of water for the PC to land on when falling off the boat and to direct the rain sideways to wash bubble soap off of Kaito), snow, and possibly earthquakes(the ground is noted to start shaking in response to his anger.)

His lightning may be able to be used under water without being conducted into non-targets, however it's also possible he used harsh winds instead of lightning when destroying Otohime and her minions.

Artifact

Bubble wand - blown bubbles cause explosions.

The explosions are powerful enough to destroy glass that withheld a full grown Kraken.

Towa warns not to touch the bubbles, as they will kill you.

Other

Towa cannot speak during the daytime and is only able to talk when it's night. This includes being in Obscuary, where it's permanently night, however the cover of clouds doesn't allow him to speak during the day meaning it's not related specifically to the visibility of the sun.

Can speak to and understand anomalies, even those that lack speech capabilities(such as the tree on the hill.) Haru is aware of this.

Able to see and hear ghosts(Zenji) and possibly other things that only people who are "special" can see(the tree on the hill.)

Can jump so high he can essentially fly, although this may be related to control of wind(though there's no notation that the wind blows when he jumps.)

Anomalies fear him and obey him, particularly when he's angry, even to the point of kneeling out of fear when he's furious.

Ren Shiranami

Stigma

Incantation - Raothtas

Effect - Cleans things?

Has only been used to remove Calamari's ink from the floor when wiping it up failed.

Artifact

Swim ring - restrains target.

Cannot be removed by the wearer.

Has a rope attached that allows the wearer to be reeled in.

Taiga Hoshibami

Stigma

Incantation - Malab

Effect - ?

Artifact

Tommy gun - takes anything broken into small enough pieces and fired from it as ammo.

Other

Damage type seems to vary based on what was placed into it. Shards of glass created a swirl of glass shards, whereas bronze from a statue shot heavier rounds.

Doesn't seem to require ammo to fire.

Doesn't seem to work on everything as Taiga says his bullets don't work on anything lately. Possibly limited to hostile entities? (He was able to shoot the Oblivion Dealer, but not able to shoot the Kyklos--which ran away--or the Barong--which was non-threatening.)

Carries a knife and a pistol.

Romeo Scorpus Lucci

Stigma

Incantation - Tiris

Effect - "turns things into bombs".

Able to turn anything into a bomb, including non-explosive objects.

The size of the blast depends on how attached to the target object its owner is. If Romeo truly values something he's blowing up, the explosion is quite destructive.

Hyde has him testing various types of prototype anomalous explosive materials for Darkwick on missions.

Artifact

"To me, these prototypes are a path to catching anomalies in one piece." which implies most of Hyde's prototypes cause non-lethal explosions.

Sniper rifle - ?

Maintains his bullets himself.

Doesn't always carry the same types of rounds. For example, he only had smoke bombs in the prologue.

Ritsu Shinjo

Stigma

Incantation - Acimo

Effect - hardens his body. Increases his weight.

Artifact

Prevents damage from concussive attacks such as kicks and bullets. If you kick him while it's active it'll hurt.

Doesn't seem to experience pain in this state.

Can survive explosions and escape from collapsed buildings unharmed.

Compendium of Laws - ?

Subaru Kagami

Has the contents memorized?

Taiga taught him to use it as a blunt weapon.

Stigma

Incantation - Talnandio

Effects - psychometry.

Experiences memory fragments through almost anything he touches.

Passive, activates on contact with people, animals, anomalies, and objects without incantation.

Using it exhausts him to the point of needing a significant amount of rest, possibly even passing out shortly after usage.

Wears gloves and avoids crowded places to try and avoid accidentally setting it off. Feels bad about being able to learn people's secrets.

Artifact

Parasol - ?

Sturdy enough to destroy a possessed doll.

Haku Kusanagi

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Implied he prefers not using it?

Artifact

Flute - ?

Used flute to remove himself and the PC from Kisaragi Station, knocking them out with some sort of ethereal water and causing them to wake up back on the empty train car.

Other

Able to see and communicate with spirits.

Able to perform various rituals such as laying spirits to rest and making talismans that allow people close to a spirit to see and hear them.

"Cordoned off the area" of the train and station the PC was on, which should have prevented interference from civilians. May be part of his Artifact or Stigma, or part of his capabilities as a Shinto priest.

Zenji Kotodama (Taro Kirisaki)

Performs the stigma test for Darkwick.

According to Taiga he's able to remove curses if the anomaly that caused the curse is in front of him. It's uncertain if this is his stigma, part of his artifact, or another power.

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Doll - ?

Heavily resembles Jiro as a child, according to Zenji.

Won't let anyone but Zenji touch it. Protects Zenji.

Appearance slightly changes to that of an oni when angered.

Has a mind of its own. Wanders around campus without Zenji, much to his concern.

Able to damage and destroy ghosts.

Other

As a ghost, Zenji cannot be touched, meaning he can't be damaged or killed. However he covers his ears when Haku performs a ritual to lay spirits to rest and covers his face in Subaru's warding card with incense, suggesting that he would be laid to rest under the right circumstances.

Darkwick is unaware Jiro is present as only Haku and Towa(and eventually Subaru and the PC) are aware Zenji's spirit lingers. If Darkwick were to become aware of Zenji's presence they would want him laid to rest.

Due to Obon, people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits and anomalies are more frequent, causing Zenji to sometimes be visible during the summer.

Zenji brings his doll with him most everywhere, however people can only see the doll and not him. The same happens with his biwa. If he carries them, they appear to float. In the summer people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits(due to Obon) and may see or hear Zenji when they wouldn't otherwise.

Zenji can touch physical objects(his doll, his biwa, and his phone) and his footsteps are audible if he doesn't silence them.

Afraid of ghosts, possibly the dark, and maybe dead bodies.

Edward Hart

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Cane? - ?

While his profile lists his Special Artifact as "??", he holds a cane in his combat chibi.

Other

Edward is, or was historically, the world's strongest vampire, implying a great deal of hidden power. As he is 400+ years old, he knows a great deal about anomalies that Darkwick doesn't listen to for some reason. However being old has also made his body and mind much weaker. . .allegedly.

Ed has immense power, which we've only heard of him using on the singular mission he participated in. Using it he obliterated an anomaly and a building in such a way that Darkwick struggled to cover up(unlike Tohma's destruction which was able to be explained as poor maintenance and age) suggesting he more or less vaporized it. It's unknown if this is a vampire power or his stigma.

Ed is able to transform into a bat and fly around. He doesn't seem to be able to speak in this form, only screeching loudly.

If Rui touches him, the touched part will break off(at which point it can be reattached simply by pushing it back into place,) ache intensely for a time, or he will die temporarily. However Ed is immortal and cannot die by normal means. He doesn't need to breathe and cannot be suffocated, for example.

As a vampire, Ed is rapidly exhausted by sunlight. Sunlight won't kill him instantly, but it will cause him to collapse. He claims sunlight will turn him to ash eventually, and he cannot be outside in the sun without a parasol. If it's cloudy enough, Ed is able to be outside during the day. He's usually tired during the daytime, but still seems to sleep during the night.

Ed is physically and mentally weaker during summer months, but stronger during autumn and winter.

Ed primarily drinks tears, although he mentions that he does drink blood in his character story and on the home screen. He finds that human food doesn't taste like much of anything.

Ed mentions that Lyca's soul is misshapen, however it's unclear if he can actually see his soul or if he was merely teasing him.

Rui Mizuki

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - temporary relief of pain and discomfort

Incantation has only been said in his head.

It's unclear if blowing a kiss is required to activate it or if that's just for flair.

Artifact

Scythe - allows Rui to conceal himself in darkness.

Rui admits to using his artifact to keep an eye on others on campus.

Other

Suffers from a 'Reaper Curse' which effectively makes him a reaper.

Cannot make skin contact with living things without them dying. This includes humans, animals, plants, and even mold!

Wears gloves, a turtleneck, and avoids crowded places to avoid committing manslaughter.

Absorbs the life energy of what he touches and kills. This kills almost anything instantly as most things are too weak to survive it. Absorbed energy goes straight to his body, preventing him from sleeping. He keeps himself as busy as possible as a result of having so much energy to spare.

Lyca Colt

Stigma

Incantation - Ramsochisa

Effect - allows him to follow any scent he's smelled before.

Artifact

Claws - ?

Other

Werewolf. Transforms with exposure to the full moon. "The speed of his transformation is affected by how much he's exposed to moonlight and his mental state." Sometimes feels his skin crawling when the full moon is near?

Covering his head when he's outside under the full moon prevents or regresses his transformation. Collapses after his transformation regresses from half wolf and doesn't transform while unconscious. Nothing happens to him if he's not exposed to the full moon on a full moon night. Obscuary is always a crescent moon, allowing him to be there safely during a full moon.

Werewolves have four stages: Human, partial wolf, half wolf, and full wolf. At 'half wolf' Lyca is an anthropomorphic wolf. However, he loses control of himself after he's been transformed for a while, and may attack indiscriminately.

He doesn't remember much when he transforms. He might remember less if he fully transforms?

Yuri Isami

Stigma

Incantation - Agnihaet

Effect - "hyperstimulates his braincells"

"allows him to logically process information and solve complex equations almost instantaneously."

when enhanced seemed to make the information processing instantaneous and extremely accurate?

Artifact

Syringe - Causes injuries received by the individual injected with its contents to damage the entity that inflicted them.

Jiro Kirisaki

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Chainsaw - ?

According to his Christmas home screen dialogue where he cut down a fir tree for Yuri, the chainsaw doesn't cut well. However in the chapter it seems to have no problem cutting through flesh. Perhaps it cuts through anomalies or flesh, but not other things?

Other

Jiro is noted to be especially strong.

Jiro was in a coma until an undisclosed time ago, when Yuri was able to awaken him from it. When he was comatose and for how long and why hasn't been relayed yet, however he was said to be particularly violent during The Clash, meaning he was likely awakened before or during it.

As a side effect of his condition and mysterious illness, Jiro has a poor memory, immunodeficiency, and his wounds reopen very easily. He needs four treatments a day, and they take around an hour to complete. Yuri is the only one who can administer them, and Jiro isn't able to do so himself. Even with his treatments he's forgetful and prone to being sick and has a bit of a fragile constitution. Abrupt changes in temperature, for example, make him choke.

Jiro doesn't react much to his wounds and being in pain, but he will eventually collapse from overexertion or illness if he misses a treatment or has taken too much damage.

[tonariofjananda]

This was my participation piece for the @yuriolympics2023 ‘s first prompt, “Memory.”✌️

The fic covers things that will happen in Season 3 (including a theory that I’m treating as 100% canon tbh, lol) so if you’re not caught up with the manga, please keep that in mind :)

[obitv]

MASTERPOST OF ME BEING STRANGE AND OFFPUTTING (deadwood+upp headcanons)

LOREDUMPS

everything we know about mal, the spirit world, the wisps, etc

everything we know about deadwood

DEADWOOD

(note: i am currently revamping my deadwoods hcs, not everything i say in these is what i think anymore <3)

deadwood is rural ireland

aesthetic/appearance

introduction to the Horrors

introduction to The Woods Eats People

expansion on The Woods Eats People + beginnings of my thoughts on religion in deadwood

more on the Horrors (+ some extra on the upp)

UN-WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM

basic overview (+ some extra deadwood hcs!)

actual notes on each character

APPEARANCE! (UPDATE: ART!!!!!!!!!)

what Sight is like for each member

how they met

what their bedrooms look like

different post just about williams house

where they are now

FICS/WRITING

the dead will live again (tumblr / ao3)

+ alt pov

why william avoids his wisp form

mary, did you know? (tumblr / ao3)

[aestian]

its so funny being a sone since 2011/2012 and still being here in 2024 and have people who were still learning their colors in school at the time tell me extremely wrong snsd information when i was there in the TRENCHES but ok you saw a tiktok and know ig

[waywardsalt]

mmm

[wingsforthewicked]

Woe, my passion project be upon ye-

And that's it! For Now!!

Thank you so much for reading and i hope it comes in handy for any of your wingies needs :3 This took me... a While, more than it should've, but is finally here! And maybe i've been slacking a little on the tagging for this blog specifically, but i recommend besides reading all of this, to go check my Guides tag, as i'm missing a few little things here and there that i couldn't for the life of me find a way to explain, and i've already re-done this Way too much for my liking o(-(

But you can also just go around this blog to get some inspiration :o I got a Lot of different wing styles here, and again i gotta go back to tagging (and fix my blog web theme, don't worry about it—) but other than that, you're free to explore this lil blog of mine

Two last things—First, i did all of this for free, i want it to reach as many people as possible (which is why soon-ish i'll translate the entirety of it to spanish and add image descriptions to both versions, i need a break....), but if you liked this enough and would like to leave a lil' tip on my kofi (@/rainbowpinyata), i would appreciate it a lot... Second, my inbox is always open if you or someone you know is in need of a more in-dept explanation on any of the parts of this, as i had to resume most of the info, or just needs a little bit of advice. I'm gonna explain wings Much more than i already have on the next part, but that... is going to take a bit, so...

Anyways, many thanks to my friends for always being there for me, i don't think i would've gone past the first draft or the many others after that without their encouragement, suggestions and general help with keeping me going. It means everything to me.

Also, click for better quality pls, the pages are pretty big but... this site....

[phoebelovingcare]

THE NEXT PERSON WHO SAYS IT DOESN'T WORK GETS PUBLICLY EXECUTED VIA HAMMERCAR (check reblogs for further info)

"what's it like to use nightshade/glaze?"

so based on my own experience I thought I'd make this more transparent since I know a lot of people hesitate to take action on some things if they do not know Exactly what happens. it's me i'm people. So;

Nightshade takes about 30 minutes on its fastest setting. The end result tends to look like mild jpeg artifacting, very slightly creased paper, or just brush texturing. Looking at it normally, it is undetectable. Glaze is very visually similar, given the strategy, except that Glaze's longest time setting is 5 minutes.

You put in a file, select how much you want it affected and for how long you want it to render. For Nightshade, you also attach a tag to it, that way AI finds what it's looking for with an associated word. You select a folder for the final result to save to, then hit run.

It takes a lot of GPU/CPU. The fans on my laptop sound a bit like I'm running Minecraft, and it refuses to run if you have too many programs open. I could run Youtube and Nightshade at the same time, but Youtube did Not like it. Best to just take a break while you let it do its thing. Run Nightshade before you go out or something.

It does NOT like transparent png backgrounds. Makes me wonder how AI does with 'em. Anyways, running a backgroundless drawing through Glaze and Nightshade respectively makes it turn out like this:

creasing effect is more noticeable, and it adds strange blocky black and white backgrounds to it. If you want good results for your time, be that less than 1 minute or 180 minutes, consider getting rid of the transparency.

I would post a before and after picture of a Nightshaded piece but of course, I would like to post exclusively poison on this site.

As one last note, it took me a lot of effort to find where you're actually supposed to download these tools, so Glaze is here and Nightshade is here. Overall I highly recommend using them if you can. Don't let AI run you off of your sites: run the AI out yourself.

[hellbatschilt]

Updated X's adventurer plate recently so time to post my guys together

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers and sometimes the asks are edited only to add new phrases to them in time.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks. Usually some may even be an hour old and reusing a familiar pfp/ask.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search. You may find verified fundraisers too.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from. Sometimes the text is just reused from past scams such as asking for insulin that doesn’t last long.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

10. If you do see a GoFundMe link on a blog, don’t immediately assume it’s a scam just because it’s a relatively new account. Check the post notes to see if anyone’s verified the account yet or wait a bit as it takes time. You likely can search around to see if anyone’s posted anything where the blog has been vetted by others. You may also see if the GoFundMe is referred to on other socials or on lists that compile verified and vetted fundraisers.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

[prismaticutie]

Unironically if tumblr ever goes down y'all can add me on Bakery Story (ID: slinkythread773) if u want we can even hang out on the forums (my name would be the same as my id) I tip often and accept requests daily xoxo I'm a delightful neighbor to have I promise <3

[idocumentscammers]

PayPal Donations for Humalog Insulin: The Snake Oil of Tumblr Scammers

Have you recently received an ask like this?

_____

_____

Do you recognize any of these profile pictures?

_____

_____

You have probably encountered a scam!

(Edit: one of the profile pictures used to scam was stolen directly from Dr. Shahed, a verified fundraiser! If you see anyone else using this photo in accordance with any fundraiser that does not belong to Dr. Shahed, it is likely a scam.)

These scammers take random Palestine-related photos and photos of hijabi women to quickly curate their blogs into looking like real Palestinians. Their asks and pinned posts are nearly identical, with a few discrepancies between names used, exact amounts asked for, and the occasional false claim of being "vetted and verified." They nearly always have one original post (their pinned one with their PayPal link) while the rest of their blog are solely reblogs of other posts, mainly those popular within the Palestine-related tags.

Here's an example of a pinned post, from the currently-active futuristiclovernut:

_____

_____

They claim to be someone named "Wangila," with a linked PayPal belonging to Nafula Wangila...yet they were going by a different name not too long ago...

_____

_____

This post is from two days ago. I imagine they were asked why their PayPal name was different from the name they provided, so they just decided to start using the PayPal name instead.

As for that exact ask, here's several links from so many different accounts using a very similar ask.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Here is a list of usernames that used some iteration of this ask: futuristiclovernut, jollyduckdetective, mellowwerewolfblaze, enchantingtravelermentality, chiefarcadedreammer, sodelusiontyphoon, atomiccollectorrladdysblog, greatmagazinepeace, thoughtfulfestivallove, luckyprincessblog, androgynousrunawaytree, enchantingladyearthquaker, tenaciousbearcowboy and more!

(Tip: go to Google and search " "long shot call" tumblr" (with quotations around the "long shot call") and you'll find so many iterations of this)

Using many different accounts and using duplicate asks is a practice that many legitimate, vetted fundraisers use. But they don't change their name and link to a new PayPal account each time. Legitimate fundraisers will usually have two links tops (such as a GoFundMe and a PayPal alternative). They typically use a GoFundMe, but will occasionally use Go Get Funding or trackable PayPal fundraisers. Some have used untrackable donation pools as an alternative to GoFundMe, but that should not be trusted unless they've been vetted by a qualified vetter.

With that in mind, the "vetted and verified" business happening in a lot of these scam blogs' pinned posts is misleading. They don't provide any links to vetting proof or usernames of those who vetted them, or will make up nonexistent accounts as their source of "vetting." Do not assume a fundraiser is vetted just because the post says so. Find the original vetting source and link it. If it's a spreadsheet, find the exact row number. Always check the fundraiser link that was in the vetter's post/spreadsheet. (Don't let the nessmamomen situation repeat; vetted funds have been impersonated before, while linking a separate "fundrasier.") Do not take anyone else's word for it, including other people in the reblogs; chances are, they didn't check for a source either.

Not every unvetted fundraiser is a scam. In fact, on my mainblog @cluelessbot, I reblog a lot of unvetted fundrasiers under the condition that they don't have stolen images or text (checked through copy-pasting search and reverse image search) are using a trackable fundraising option (there is a fundraising title and info on the fundraising page, with a progress bar leading to a specific monetary goal in the thousands) and are fundraising to a reasonable goal according to their stated needs. A Palestinian asking for only a few hundred dollars is not reasonable. Even if they aren't trying to evacuate, the cost of goods in Gaza is so inflated that a few hundred dollars will not cover their needs. If they cannot afford insulin, they are likely struggling with other necessities like shelter, food, water, and hygiene products. $360 would work as a short-term goal, which vetted Gazan fundraisers will ask for within a certain timeframe, but it is such a low total amount compared to legitimate Gaza fundraisers.

Let's talk profile pictures! The black woman with a red hijab is the most common photo you'll see, which has been associated with so many names such as Tasneem Doreen Rajaab, Marystella Majuma (Rajaab), Rajaab Edward, Jane Majuma, Rose Abdulhaq, Nafula Wangila, Zuhura Alfaat Kweyu. (Not a comprehensive list)

Some of these names get used with other profile pictures of totally different people as well.

Tasneem Doreen Rajaab gets changed to Tasneem Remmy Rajaab, and uses a photo of a totally different person.

Zuhura Alfaat Kweyu also was also used in conjunction with a photo of an entirely different person.

Onto PayPal names; the PayPal accounts linked with these scams frequently have names that originate from Sub-Saharan African cultures. This tells us that this scam is likely being run by the same individual, or a small group of individuals who are using names they are most familiar with. Here are just a few examples:

Majuma is most common in Kenya

Wangila is most common in Kenya

Kweyu is most common in Kenya

Khakasa is most common in Uganda

This means that this person or small group of people has likely made so much money off this scam. I have seen some of these posts with notes in the thousands, meaning that they have, at the very least, collected hundreds of dollars that could have went to actual Gazan fundraisers. These people do not care. If you call them out, they block you. If their account gets deactivated by tumblr staff, they just make a new one. This is why you need to be thorough about every donation ask you receive. With the state of Gaza and the inflated costs of everything, including evacuation; these fundraisers, and in turn, the scammers, will not be stopping anytime soon.

If you're feeling overwhelmed, check my main blog's pinned post for resources.

Stop sharing suspicious donation asks on the off-chance that it's real. If you don't want to take the time to inspect fundraisers, then stop sharing unvetted ones, or reach out to me for help. Let's do better to support those in Palestine, and stop soliciting the people taking donations away from them.

Since I have decided to support this family until they reach their goals: Nesma Ahmed and her sisters Dr. Shahad and Farah are both vetted [1] [2] and are in need of support to continue their education, evacuate, and afford necessities. Please share their fundraisers [1] [2] donate if you are able, and join their Telegram support group if you're interested.

This post/my blog is not a place to accuse all fundraisers of being scams, or to be racist/xenophobic. Read my rules.

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

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

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

‘Should I?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

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

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

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

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

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

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

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

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

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

“A recommendation from someone important.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But what if he does?’

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

‘What if he tells someone?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can help with that,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A drink?" he offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

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

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

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[slytherinslut0]

Fred & George Weasley- Ours

Word count: 5k

Info: your friends with benefits, Fred and George Weasley, see some guy getting a little too close to you at a party; and decide they need to show you exactly who you belong to.

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Threesome, Praise Kink, Degredation Kink, Oral (f receiving), Double Penetration, Anal, Good Sex, Forced Orgasm, Begging, Teasing.

"Who the hell was that guy?" Fred huffed, slamming the door shut to the quaint little study room he and George had just dragged you into not ten seconds prior. "I mean, he had his fucking hands all over you!"

George nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant against the desk. "All over you...in places only our hands should go..."

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your tight black dress against your thighs. You'd been sleeping with the twins for a few months now, mostly a fun, friends-with-benefits type of deal; but lately they'd become far more possessive, far more protective than usual. Sometimes it could be a little much, but you couldn't deny that their passion for your body made the sex other-fucking-worldly.

Sometimes it was fun to purposefully get them going, just to see how far they'd take it.

"What's the matter with you two?" You said, your innocent eyes darting back and fourth between the fiery haired twins, trying not to get distracted by the power of their strong, athletic builds; each of them towering over you as they waited your response. "Last time I checked, this wasn't a relationship. Not sure why you guys are getting so jealous."

Fred cocked an eyebrow. "Pretty sure we made it clear last time that you were ours...."

"...and only ours." George finished, the two of them drawing closer.

You swallowed, your heart racing with excitement at the direction you knew this little conversation was going in. You pulled your lip between your teeth, trying to hide your smirk as you backed up from them, attempting to keep space between your bodies as to not give in so quickly.

Pissing them off more only added to the fun.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whispered, voice a low murmur; cunt clenching as you watched a mischievous grin spread across Fred's lips; George's eyes narrowing in challenge. "And certainly not you two."

"Hm," Fred hummed, eyeing your body from head to toe, smirking as he snuck George a brief glance, the two of them circling around you now; like predators stalking their prey. "Sounds like she needs to be reminded of her place, doesn't she George?"

George smirked, wetting his lips. "She sure fucking does, Fred..."

Fred nodded. He'd had enough of the playing. "We're leaving."

Without hesitation, Fred and George each grabbed one of your wrists, George's warm breath washing over your ear as he whispered, "and don't try to fight it, princess..." his teeth grazed your earlobe. "You want us to make you feel good, don't you? You know we never fail to take care of you..."

Your head spun, oxygen missing you. Gods, of course you did. "Y-yes... you're right..."

"There's our good girl," Fred hummed, his lips ghosting over your other ear, lids fluttering shut at the collective sensations. "We're going to fucking worship you...make you feel things that no one else could ever, ever match."

Your breath hitched. "Oh..."

"That's it," George murmured, "you're ours, and tonight, we're going to make sure you know it."

Sensing that your defiance had now entirely crumbled, the twins shared a quick glance before they released your wrists, and moved toward the door without another word. Fred walked first, you in the middle with George trailing behind you, everyone in the corridors shooting you acknowledging glances as they eyed the three of you suspiciously, even though it was well over midnight and the party was coming to a close anyway.

As soon as Fred pushed open the door to his dorm room and ushered you inside, he locked it behind him--not wasting even a single fucking second before he looped his arm around your waist and tugged you against him; his back hitting the door as he held you snug to his frame, gripping your hips as he pressed your ass tight to his crotch. George stood in front of you, taking a moment to worship your body, taking a moment to watch your face as Fred's lips attacked your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh with relentless urgency.

Unable to hold off any longer, George stepped forward, running his hands over your curves, eyes stark with lust. "You look so fucking beautiful tonight..." he murmured, softly pressing his lips to yours. "We couldn't wait to get you alone."

Fred hummed, nipping your earlobe. "And now that we have..."

"...we're going to make the most of it." George whispered, breaking the kiss.

Your lungs stalled as you watched him slowly drop to his knees before you, his hands gently urging your feet wider as he gazed up at you with an intense desire, watching you lose yourself as Fred tilted your chin to the side and crashed his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath through his nose as his tongue fought with yours to be the one in control.

George hummed, one hand exploring your thighs and hips, eyes intently watching the small ministrations of your face as he slipped his other hand under your dress and teased your clit through your panties; sending sharp bursts of ecstasy through your veins.

"You deserve to be worshipped, pretty girl...to have every inch of you adored..." George whispered as he slipped his fingers under your panties, teasing your throbbing core. "Look how fucking wet you are for us already..."

You gasped into the kiss, fighting to pull away and catch your breath but Fred's lips were relentless, working your mouth as though he wanted to map your taste into memory; to devour every single inch. Your eyes rolled as George slowly pushed a finger inside you, carefully stretching you open, his lips grazing and teasing the sensitive crevice of your inner thigh.

"Mmm, does that feel good, princess?" Fred purred, breaking the kiss, panting mouth falling to your jawline.

You nodded, unable to find words, head falling back onto his shoulder as he looped a hand under your thigh, pulling it up toward your chest and holding it there as to give George better access to your pussy--a smirk crawling across his lips as he watched you pant and squirm in pleasure from his ministrations, pausing only briefly to tug your panties down your thighs and toss them off to the side.

"So beautiful...so needy..." George murmured. "We're going to make you feel so good, love..."

Fred groaned, nodding in agreement. "Pleasure you until you can't take it anymore,"

Fred pressed his lips back to your neck, his free hand roaming up your stomach and groping your tits over the fabric of your dress--he groaned against your neck as you pulsed against him, feeling George's warm breath caress your folds as he brought his lips to the crease of your inner thigh again, teasing you.

"George..." you breathed, desperate for connection, your hands weaving through his hair in attempt to coax his lips to your pussy. "Please..."

With a mischievous smirk, he met your eyes, holding your stare as he pressed his lips to your swollen clit, his skilled tongue lapping at your juices and mixing them with his spit. You moaned, body lost in overwhelming pleasure, back arching and eyes rolling, but Fred held you firm against him; one hand still holding your leg up while the other held your chest--lips working your neck, teeth peppering it with purple possessions marks.

"Fuck, you taste so good, princess..." George purred, voice muffled against your pussy. "So fucking sweet."

You moaned, head falling back, and Fred's hand slithered up from your tits and tightened around your throat, ridding your oxygen supply and inflicting a delicious, intoxicating buzz on your lips. Your mouth fell wide in an open pant, George's lips sealing around your clit and driving you directly toward the brink of an explosive, earth shattering orgasm.

Fred groaned, lips grazing your ear. "That's it...we love hearing you make those pretty noises for us.."

George's tongue delved deep into your wetness, flicking, swirling, and teasing with calculated expertise. He offered no respite, driving you closer to the edge with each skillful lick--your legs shaking, one hand gripping his hair while the other was latched onto Fred's wrist for dear life, your body utterly at their mercy as the two of them inflicted their usual intoxicating dominance over you.

"Look at you, so helpless and eager to please..." Fred's voice was a mere breath in your ear, his hand leaving your throat and trailing down your body, slipping behind your back and down past your ass, bringing it to your dripping heat. You moaned before he'd even sunk in, but when he did, your entire body convulsed, the pleasure of their collective movements driving you dangerously close to exploding. "Fuck, you're so tight and wet..."

Fred curled his fingers inside you, their long length driving you utterly insane, scissoring and curling against your tight walls while George continued his oral assault on your clit, humming as your trembling grip on his hair tightened.

Your eyes squeezed shut. You were dangerously close. "Oh...Oh, Gods-"

Fred growled, low in his chest. "That's it, little slut...take it. Take it all. We want to hear you scream for us."

"Cum for us, princess." George murmured against your pussy, only seconds before he latched onto your clit again, swirling his tongue in a way that sent you tumbling straight over the edge.

"Oh, yes...fuck-fuck!"

"That's right. Give in to us, baby," Fred growled, his voice darker than the midnight sky "...surrender to the pleasure we're giving you."

Your sight blanked, ears ringing and head falling back as you came around Fred's fingers, George's skilled tongue working expertly to swallow your orgasm as best as he could, neither of them stopping until they were completely certain you were past your high. Your entire body was on fire, liquid magma coursing through your veins, heating every square inch of your bloodstream as you fought to catch your breath.

George hummed, placing soft kisses along your slit and up toward your mound. "Are you going to admit your ours now? Or do we need to show you more of what we do to you?"

You huffed, fighting through the sensations as he teasingly licked at your pussy, softly enough to make your head spin and your body squirm. "I-I'm not...I'm not yours..." you said, purposefully trying to escalate them. "I'll never be."

George halted his movements, cocking an eyebrow as he met Fred's eyes. "How about that, huh Fred?"

Fred huffed, amused, and you felt his hot breath wash over your neck. "Entirely humorous, I'd say."

George stood up to his full height, peering down at you with a dark, predatory glint in his eyes, one that made your stomach twist with arousal.

"If you're not ours...then you're just some slut for us to use then, yeah?" He whispered, smirking, sneaking another glance at Fred; the two of them basically communicating with their eyes.

You swallowed, and Fred's teeth grazed your ear. "So you wouldn't mind if we just took control, used your sexy little body for our own pleasure, right?"

Your lips parted, your pussy clenching with need. Gods, this is exactly what you fucking wanted--you were so excited you couldn't even hide it if you tried.

"I..." you couldn't find words as Fred released your thigh, pulling your hips against his throbbing bulge, George's hands roaming your curves--tugging on your dress and bunching it up your hips, up your stomach, gesturing for you to raise your hands as he tugged it up  and off your trembling body.

Your mouth was drier than cotton, and George smirked, wetting his lips as he eyed your newly exposed body, his pupils dilating when he realized your lacy, dark red bra was a matching piece to your panties that had previously been discarded to the floor at your feet.

"Look at you..." he murmured, running a hand up your hip and toward your breasts. "Such a filthy little thing...wearing this under your dress..." he grazed your nipple, twirling his thumb until he felt it harden under the fabric of your bra. "Who were you wearing this for, if not us? Hm?"

The arrogance in his tone drove you crazy, and as Fred trailed his hand along your other hip, moving toward your pussy again, your lungs stalled, breath hitching.

"You've been aching for this, haven't you love?" Fred purred, teasing your clit with a brief swirl. "Don't worry, we're going to show you exactly who you belong to..."

George grabbed your wrist, "that's right...you're nothing but our little fucktoy, and we're going to prove it."

Your lips parted, but you didn't even have time to think as George tugged you over toward the bed, Fred trailing behind you. You could hear him fumbling with his belt, and your stomach leapt up into your throat as George released your wrist to do the same. In practically no time at all, the twins had rid themselves of all their clothing--their hard, throbbing cocks making your mouth water and your pussy clench as you stared, unable to peel your eyes away. They were fucking hung. You always managed to forget just how big they were.

George smirked, and you moved toward him, wrapping your small hand around his thick length, his head falling back as you softly pumped him, reaching beside you to do the same to Fred. Each of them stood there for a moment, eyes squeezed shut and chests heaving as you stroked them; twisting your fist and smearing their pre-cum around the heads of their cocks--your entire body screaming with fucking need at the display.

After a moment, George gathered himself, and brought his lips toward your ear. "Are you going to be a good girl for us?"

Fred's lips found your other ear, your hands still slowly pumping their lengths. "Are you going to let us have our way with you? Hm? Give yourself over to us completely?"

As George smacked your ass, leaving your cheek burning and tingling, you yelped; mischievous smirks crawling across both of their lips. Gods, you wanted them inside you. You couldn't take even a second more of waiting.

"Yes..." you whispered, increasing your motions, head falling back as they each attacked a side of your neck. "Please...take me..."

"Mm." Fred hummed, smacking your other cheek now. "That's what we like to hear, princess..."

George moved toward the bed, laying down on his back on the edge, legs dangling off the side. He motioned for you to climb on top of him, and without hesitation, you did--his big hands finding your hips and holding you firm against his chest, your thighs straddling his waist as you rolled your slick cunt against his length, his jaw tensing and throat bobbing as he swallowed, lips finding your neck.

Fred came up behind you, his long fingers ghosting down your back, caressing the smooth curve of your ass. George brought his lips to your ear. "You want us? Hm?"

You didn't even need to think. "Yes!"

"Beg for it..." Fred cooed from behind you. "Beg for us to claim your perfect little body, to use every one of your delicious fucking holes..."

Your breath hitched, your stomach leapt with excitement. "Please-fuck-please, fuck me..."

"That's it," George groaned, angling the head of his dick so it was pressing at your dripping core, his voice a dangerously deep growl in your ear. "That's our good little toy...fuck-"

His words were cut short by his groan of pleasure as he sunk into your tight wet heat, thrusting up into you in one slow, sensual thrust; stretching your walls open slowly and cautiously--for as dominant as the twins were, they never took it too far. They were always careful with you, gentle when they needed to be, and it drove you fucking insane; in the best way possible.

"Oh...fuck-George..." as he sunk in to the hilt, he paused for a second before he slowly pulled out, Fred's hands running all over your body, adding to the already overwhelming sensations flowing through you.

You moaned, eyes rolling back as George began to increase his pace, fucking up into you as his arms held you tight to his chest, his breath growly and husky in your ear. You felt Fred's hands leave your body, only for a brief moment, until he returned one to your hip, followed by a warm liquid sensation dripping down your back and sliding over your ass.

Fred massaged the sensual liquid into your skin, moving down toward your ass, grazing the tight rim with one of his fingers, the sensations making you clench around George.

"Shit-you're so fucking tight..." George breathed, slowing his pace to an agonizingly slow speed. "You need to slop clenching around me like that, princess...or else..."

As Fred pushed his finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls, and you moaned, entire body overwhelmed by the fullness--you'd done anal before, but never at the same time as being fucked, and so far, it was an incomprehensible experience--entirely fucking mind-numbing.

"I-I can't help it-oh, Fred-fuck!" Fred snuck another finger inside your ass, and he continued to twist and scissor you open, your entire body tensing, an overwhelming fullness washing over you. George groaned as you clenched around him again.

"Shh, relax..." Fred cooed, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of your ass, matching the slow ministrations of George's cock. "Breathe...feel your tight little ass stretch open for me..."

As he pressed in a third finger, your vision blanked, and you were so encompassed by pleasure you couldn't even comprehend it--if three of his fingers felt this fucking intense, you couldn't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like. His fingers curled inside you, stretching you wider, your face washed with crimson, body glistening with sweat--you'd never felt more defenceless and dominated, your entire body succumbed to their primal power.

George, however, was struggling. "Fred, any day now..." he groaned, hissing the words through barred teeth. "She's got me strung out on the gallows here.."

Fred huffed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you. "I think she's ready for me...aren't you, princess?"

As George paused his movements, you could finally take a second to think, to breathe. Admittedly, you were nervous, but you knew the twins would never hurt you, would never do something to cause you unwanted pain. You knew you could trust them to take care of you.

With a small whimper, you nodded. "Yes...I am."

"Good girl...we're going to claim every one of your pretty fucking holes..." Fred groaned, pressing the sticky head of his cock against your ass. "Our perfect little plaything..."

He squeezed more warm liquid over your ass, trapping a deep breath in his lungs as he worked in the head of his dick. With a deep breath, you allowed your body to surrender, allowed yourself to relax into the moment. The intensity of their touch was all-consuming, and as Fred finally worked his thick length inside your ass, all three of you groaned in pleasure, Fred and George hissing through their teeth as you squeezed and clenched around them, your tight walls pulling them deeper inside of you.

"Oh, fuck..." Fred groaned, "tight...so fucking tight..."

Fred clung to your hips, George's arms still wrapped tight around your shoulders, hugging you to his chest as he slowly resumed fucking up into you. When Fred had fully sheathed himself in your ass, he held himself there, grip rough enough to bruise, drawing in another hissing breath through his teeth. He was massive, reaching places in your body you didn't know were possible--and between him and George, you felt overwhelmed, overtaken, your head dizzy with pleasure.

George brought his lips to your ear, his pace quickening. "You like that, princess? You like taking us both like this?"

Fred smacked your ass, leaving it stinging. "She does...she loves being our toy...dirty little slut..."

Your breath hiccuped in your lungs. "Oh-"

Was the only thing you could even attempt to say, the intensity and the pressure building in your core with every thrust, their movements becoming more forceful and insistent--mercilessly dragging you dangerously fast toward the soaring heights of ecstasy.

"Shit-" Fred's voice was a breathless pant, smacking your ass again as he slammed his hips against you. "That's it, take it...our little slut can handle it, can't she?..."

Every word from their lips drove you further into the oblivion, and by this point, you were only halfway cognizant of the sounds and words leaving your mouth. You were gone, vanished, transported from this reality and floating off somewhere in another--the level of surrender and submission you were experiencing was like nothing you've ever felt before, being used solely for their pleasure; used as their fucktoy for their carnal desires was something that you only imagined happening in your fantasy. You were so encompassed by pleasure you were certain you were going to explode without needing any clit stimulation, which was something that almost never happened to you.

"Fuck-you feel so good..." George groaned, his fingers digging into your shoulders as though he was trying to shatter your bones. "So tight and wet and eager for us..."

"Shit-" Fred moaned, his hands bruising your hips. "You feel so good wrapped around us like this...you love it, don't you whore?"

Your body felt like it was being pushed to its limits, your ears ringing as the twins increased their paces even further, slamming into you with a primal force, the sounds of their strained grunts mixed in with your wanton moans and the sounds of smacking skin being the only thing filling the thick, steamy air.

"Yes-yes!" You practically screamed, voice shaking. "I-I love it.."

Fred groaned, slamming into you. "That's right...our little whore likes it rough...fuck-"

Pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being as they dominated you in the most primal and exhilarating way. With each thrust, you were pushed closer to the edge, the pleasure mingling with the degradation in a deliciously sinful cocktail. George let loose a low moan in your ear, a sound so deliciously satisfying it pushed you dangerously close to your edge--holy fucking shit you wanted to cum. You needed to cum.

"Shit-I feel you...I feel how bad you need to cum, isn't that right, princess?" George's voice was a mere breath in your ear, his pitch strained with desire. "Tell us how bad you want it..."

Fred's hands left your hips, exploring every inch of your body, one of them snaking around in between you and George and caressing the front of your thighs. You knew he was going to tease you, you knew they'd never let you get there that easily. Your clit was throbbing, screaming, wailing in need--and although you felt so fucking good you could probably get there without it, you knew it would feel so fucking good if you did.

"P-please..." it was a pathetic cry of desperation, hardly loud enough to hear over the sound of their skin slamming against yours.

George whimpered in your ear as you clenched around him, Fred groaning as you squeezed. You moaned, far too fucking loud, and George brought a hand to your lips, shoving two of his fingers past your teeth as he growled his words into your eardrum.

"You're so close baby...but you’ll have to do better than that if you want us to help you get there..."

Fred's hand inched closer to your clit, teasing over your mound. "Tell us that you're ours, tell us that no one else could make you feel like this...no one else could ever take all of you like this..."

The ache within your core was intensifying by the second, the desperate longing for release almost unbearable. George shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you and he smirked, growling through his teeth.

"Look at you, princess...we've taken everyone of your holes...every part of you has been claimed by us..." he breathed, jaw tensed as he spoke. "Show us who you belong to."

When he slipped his fingers from your mouth, Fred's own fingers found your clit, grazing it, and your entire body flinched; desperate for connection.

"Please! Please, I'm yours...I belong to you guys, please!" Words left your lips in nothing more than babbling desperation, you fucking needed this; so, so bad. "Gods, let me cum...let me cum for you..."

Fred's free hand smacked your ass again, his fingers continuing to tease your clit. "Looks like she's finally begging for it, George..."

George hummed, gripping the back of your neck and holding your eyes to his. "That's what you want princess? To cum on my cock, hm?"

You flinched as Fred swirled over your clit again, the two of them fucking you deep, filling you full, their pace relentless and their arrogance suffocating as they relished in the clear power they held over you in this moment. They got you right where they wanted you, and they weren't scared to hold you there; making you wait, holding you hostage over the edge of pure ecstasy until you utterly shattered in their hands.

"Yes!" You wailed, meeting his dark, primal eyes, sweat glistening his forehead; his reddened locks sticking to his skin. "I want to cum on your cock, please!"

Another smack on your ass, another deep thrust from Fred. "Music to my ears..." he purred, breathless. "Should we grant her wish, George?"

"I think so, now that she's admitted her place," George grinned, brushing his lips over yours, fingers squeezing the back of your neck with enough force to bruise as he fucked deep into you. "I'd say she's earned it, Fred..."

With a satisfied groan, Fred's fingers connected, twirling over your clit with a relentless pace, shutting down any brain power dedicated to speech. Instead, your body was vibrating with pleasure, liquid diamond coursing through your vessels, making you moan and drool and babble their names. You were at the fucking brink, ready to pour out, bones ready to break from your skin as they drove deep into your holes.

Your back arched and your fingers found George's hair, gripping the tendrils as though you were trying to rip them from his scalp. "Oh-yes! Fuck-yes!"

Fred's fingers swirled with insistence, George nipping your jaw as you were right there-so close- "go on whore, cum for your fucking owners."

Your body flatlined. "Oh! Fuck!"

The two of them tipped you into euphoria, pleasure overriding your self-control as you shook and convulsed on their cocks, every muscle between your legs pulsing and clamping down while your vision turned to a black sea of stars. Your ears rang and you were sure you fell unconscious as the most powerful orgasm you've ever experienced ripped through you, shredding every single shred of nerve you had inside you.

"Fuck-you're squeezing me so fucking hard..." George groaned, so loud it shook your ribcage as it reverberated through you. "You're going to make me fucking cum, princess..."

"Fuck," you muttered, head spinning as you came down from your high; not getting very far before the pleasure started to build again, their relentless pace utterly consuming your existence. "Fuck..."

When Fred's fingers didn't pull away from your clit, you wailed, trembling and shaking from overstimulation, but Georges hold around your waist held you firm in place against him, their cocks slamming you deep as you wailed, brain entirely unable to function.

"Oh-fuck-I can't...Fred..." you said, reaching back to try and pry his hand from your clit, but George caught your wrist, collecting them both and pinning them behind your back.

"Oh, yes you can," Fred breathed, slamming you deep. "We're so close...you can cum again, alongside us, little slut.."

Your eyes locked on George, his pupils so large they swallowed up well over half of his irises entirely; a dark, primal lust encompassing his gaze. You could tell he was close, his lips parted and brows furrowed in concentration, you could tell he was holding himself back for whatever fucking reason. He was lost in pleasure, lost in the heat of your tight pussy clenching around him as Fred worked you toward your third climax of the night, fucking deep in your ass and hissing through his teeth.

"Shit-" Fred hissed. He was close too.

George's lids fluttered, "cant...hold on...much..longer.."

Without much cognitive warning, your third orgasm built quick and fast, slamming into you like a hard shot to the gut, and you screamed--unable to silence yourself even if you fucking tried. Your high washed through you like a tidal wave, rippling through your body with uncontainable force, your entire corpse shaking violently against George's chest as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over you, swears and sounds and drool pouring from your lips without consciousness.

"Fuck-fuck-" George groaned, head falling back against the mattress, grip tightening on your wrists. "I'm-gonna-fuck-"

Fred's fingers remained on your clit, working you through your high as the two of them collectively shattered against you, their bodies tensing and breath sputtering in their lungs as they spilled their hot cum inside of you, fucking you through the remnants of their highs until they were utterly spent.

For a moment, no one moved, everyone fighting to catch their breath, to return back to earth. When Fred pulled out, all that you could do was whimper, your body a collection of sweat and cum and fluids; every nerve ending in your system tingling with lingering pleasure.

"Look at you..." Fred whispered, slumping down onto the mattress beside you, helping you get yourself off of George. "Completely filled and claimed by us."

As you rolled off George and collapsed down onto the mattress between them, they each wrapped their arms around you, holding you tightly between them as you all laid there panting, bodies awash and glistening with sweat.

"All ours..." George murmured against your neck, lids fluttering. "Isn't that right, princess?"

You sighed in satisfaction, nodding softly as you melted into their collective grasp. "All yours, boys...all yours."

[bweirdart]

#mARTch 2024

text version (with more info!) under the readmore! please check it out if you're confused about anything <3

F.A.Q

do i have to draw every day? no!!!! there are skippable days built into the event, please use them whenever you need them! i really don't want anyone getting a wrist injury!

can you share my art? yep! i try to share entries to @bweirdevents daily during the event!! the tags can get busy tho so i might miss some posts OTL sorry

what are the tags? #mARTch is the main tag, but this year you might find posts in #mARTch2024 too!

wait, i'm confused about a prompt... full breakdown of all the prompts below ↓ with helpful hints if you're stuck!

_____

INTRO WEEK

this week is all about your artistic identity ... technically, you don't have to draw anything new this week if you have some art that already fits. the starter days are:

1 ⭐ self portrait who are you? it doesn't have to be you IRL .. if you feel more comfortable drawing a fursona or mascot, that's fine too! if you don't wanna draw, you can also just share old self portraits today and talk about why you drew yourself that way!

2 🤍 inspirations see how this day doesn't have a star? that means it's optional and you don't have to do it at all! but if you really wanna- tell us all about what inspires you to create art! this could be anything from the people that inspire you, the shows you like, the pins on your big messy pinterest board, or concepts that you're drawn to! you can draw something about it, talk about it, or just post your inspirations! anything is fine

3 ⭐ fav thing to draw what do you like drawing most? backgrounds? animals? one specific animal? bust of your oc facing left? cars? the same anime boy over and over and over? no judgement!! show us :)

_____

STUDY WEEK

this is the week we actually start drawing from reference! polished art is not required at all, quick sketch studies are fine! please don't burn yourself out

4 🤍 plant

5 🤍 body

6 ⭐ animal

7 🤍 object

8 🤍 food

9 🤍 face

10 ⭐ hand

these ones are pretty self explanatory! you can do them as realistic studies, or adapt them into your own art style, it's all fine! you can reference from your own photos or from resources on the web.. have fun!

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COLOUR WEEK

this is the week for playing with palettes and working on your colour theory skills! if you're really struggling with these ones, don't worry about drawing scenes or characters, you can just have fun splashing colours around on an abstract canvas!

11 🤍 RGB a set or primary colours typically used in digital/screen art - red, green and blue!

12 🤍 CMYK a set of primary colours typically used in traditional/print art - cyan, magenta, yellow ... and key (black!)

for both of these days ↑ you can add in black and white. and feel free to combine the two days into one, if you're struggling with a three-colour palette! use all six!

13 ⭐ WARM COLOURS the warm side of the colour wheel, reds oranges and yellows!

14 🤍 MONOCHROME monochrome doesn't mean black and white ... it means one colour! that can be any colour at all- shades of red, shades of purple, shades of green .. or yeah, grey if you really want!

15 🤍 COMPLIMENTARY complimentary colours are the ones opposite each other on the colour wheel! they're kinda married

16 🤍 YOUR FAV COLOURS pick any palette that works for you! where's your comfort zone? what looks nice to you? what colour combos do you always go back to?

17 ⭐ COOL COLOURS the cool side of the colour wheel, purples, blues and greens!

_____

CREATIVITY WEEK

this week is all about vibes! try to create something that matches the mood of the prompt .. they're vague on purpose! don't overthink it, just draw from the heart!

18 🤍 SMALL you could draw something that's really small, like an ant .. or draw on a canvas that's really small .. or use a really small brush .. get creative with it!

19 🤍 DANGER try to capture the adrenaline .. the rush .. the fear that you associate with the word danger!

20 ⭐ SOFT soft colours, soft textures, soft vibes ... whatever makes you comfy!

21 🤍 MIDNIGHT darkness and secrecy .. spooky witchy vibes .. the tranquility of a forest at night .. the fun of a late-night party .. there's lots of ways you can take this!

22 🤍 POWER what does this word make you think about? superpowers? control and oppression? literal electrical power? something else?

23 🤍 CHILL chill as in calm? or chill as in cold? who knows .. it's up to YOU!

24 ⭐ LOUD try to draw something that feels LOUD! BRASH! IN YOUR FACE! how can you convey sound through art?

_____

FUN + GAMES WEEK

this week is just for enjoying yourself! take it easy and have fun! also .. another reminder! there are skippable prompts! if you're tired and struggling to get to the finish line, please don't hesitate to skip a day!!! or multiple days!! as many as you need!!!

25 🤍 TRY A NEW ART STYLE copy the art style of a show you like, ask a friend if you can try their style, draw the eyes a new way, develop a totally new style on the spot... whatever you want!

26 🤍 DRAW WITH YOUR NON-DOMINANT HAND righties, draw with your left! lefties, draw with your right! ambidextrous nation ... our time to show off!

27 ⭐ DRAW WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED don't peek! try to draw something without looking! if you really want, you can colour it with your eyes open after you draw the lines/sketch with your eyes closed... but please try not to cheat with the actual drawing part!

28 🤍 RE-DRAW SOMETHING OLD find some old artwork you like, or something you feel like you can do better on now, and give it another go!

29 🤍 RE-DRAW A MEME find a silly picture on the internet to redraw .. do you have any in-jokes with your besties?

30 🤍 DRAW A GIFT FOR A FRIEND create something for someone you love <3

31 ⭐ FREE CHOICE final day! you can draw anything you want today! show off your skills! draw something you've been meaning to draw! whatever!

_____

please refrain from reblogging this post after march ends - next year's prompts will be different, thank you! if you have any additional questions, don't hesitate to shoot me an ask!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions,  and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

________________________________

“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.” 

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms. 

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3. 

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful. 

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms. 

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected. 

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care. 

It also wore off in 24 hours. 

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans. 

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach. 

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised. 

The other two were different, they had… other urges. 

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data. 

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.” 

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much. 

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long. 

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.” 

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that. 

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?” 

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased. 

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.” 

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost. 

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?” 

He nodded and held his arm out to you. 

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen. 

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.  

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him. 

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped. 

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?” 

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him. 

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms. 

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid. 

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins. 

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip. 

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this- 

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red. 

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him. 

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible. 

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time. 

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut. 

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound. 

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense. 

Almost. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this. 

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name. 

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect. 

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. 

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch. 

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret. 

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up. 

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once. 

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum. 

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'. 

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth. 

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist. 

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh. 

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this. 

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating. 

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release. 

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you. 

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off. 

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release. 

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating. 

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest. 

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side. 

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough. 

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second. 

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative. 

It shouldn't take long. 

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes. 

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run. 

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth. 

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work. 

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. 

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others. 

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful. 

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back. 

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine. 

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick. 

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level. 

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful. 

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core. 

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check. 

It doesn’t last long. 

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in. 

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on. 

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts. 

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got. 

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words. 

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper. 

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going. 

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust. 

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end. 

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change. 

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory. 

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down. 

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure. 

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade. 

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before. 

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless. 

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans. 

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you. 

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal. 

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears. 

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength. 

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips. 

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength. 

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements. 

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze. 

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes. 

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either. 

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside. 

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully. 

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control. 

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat. 

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly. 

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip. 

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him. 

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you. 

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat. 

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him. 

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in. 

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight,  his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin. 

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release. 

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily. 

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat. 

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter. 

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin. 

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly. 

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. 

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm. 

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves. 

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-” 

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs. 

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation. 

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you. 

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw. 

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.” 

.

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns. 

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time. 

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated. 

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down. 

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?” 

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now. 

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin. 

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath. 

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently. 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Happy to help.” 

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand. 

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused. 

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.” 

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong. 

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation. 

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe. 

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul. 

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.  

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered. 

You frown and shake your head, confused. 

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.” 

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