#I've never even left my city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 2 months

Text

Contracted Love ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

GENRE: CEO AU, marriage contracts, blackmailing, fake dating, fake marriage, falling love and realising you’re scared, (might actually be my fav piece)

PAIRING: Yoongi X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As Yoongi began to walk through the bustling heart of the city he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back from the meeting he had just left and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what had happened.

It had been his grandfather's will reading, something that heartbreaking in and of itself but what was getting to Yoongi more was the stipulation that came along with his portion of the will.

"It is not my wish for you to end up like me, old, alone and afraid of love."

Was that the piece of paper read, his grandfather was giving him strict orders to follow if he had any chance of getting his grandfather's portion of the company he owned and he needed it.

There was no way it could go to his father's side of the family, the vultures as his grandfather called them. They only hung around him long enough to know that they were going to be put into the will and didn't want to know his grandfather any other time. But it was all stupid. In order to collect his portion he had to be married and have a child all within a year.

A man who had hardly dated before was supposed to married and have a child within twelve months if he wanted any chance of keeping his company alive. Now Yoongi could have sworn he heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind as a constant reminder that he hadn't got much time.

"Please, I promise I can get it for you by the end of the week if you just give me some more time!" A voice pleaded, interrupting his thoughts and making him freeze on the sidewalk wondering what was unfolding in front of him.

"I've heard this a million times, Yn, I'm sick of hearing it." A male said, angrily staring down at you as you whimpered a little. He was your landlord Richard and he had just served you with an eviction notice for your business.

"Pages & Aromoa's will be a hit in no time and you'll have all the money I owe you." You sniffled but Richard handed you the piece of red paper and walked away, ignoring your begging and driving off.

"Fucking cunt," You hissed before heading inside of the door.

Yoongi stared up at the cafe sign it was basically falling apart but it was easily readable. The brick walls of the cafe had patches of Ivy clinging to the surface as if trying to breathe life into the ageing structure. The windows were slightly grim but offered a glimpse into the warmth inside that awaited anyone walking by.

The cafe was nestled between two giant skyscrapers, one of which belonged to Yoongi but he'd never even noticed the cafe before. Sighing to himself he wondered if this was the cafe his grandfather had been boasting about before he had died and he found himself walking inside. The bell above the door sounded as he did so but you were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be just a minute," Your voice called out. Despite the outside appearance of the building, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised when he walked inside. The interior was a sanctuary of tranquillity and refinement. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of vintage bulbs that were casting a warm ambience in the cafe. The perfect place to hide away and work or even read which was something that clearly happened here.

There were shelves lining the walls, stretched from floor to ceiling, the books all looked used and loved. Plush armchairs and cosy reading nooks were all over the place, offering a place for someone to lose themselves in the pages of a good book or work in silence. It was obvious why his grandfather had loved this place and had been talking about it for months.

"Stupid, machine." Yoongi heard you grumbling as you finally came up from behind a counter and smiled warmly in his direction. The smile that sent a warmth throughout his chest he suddenly felt guilty about having.

"What can I get you? And please, don't say coffee because the press is broken and the machine won't work," You pleaded with him, Yoongi's mouth opened to say something but he found himself unable to speak, struck by something he didn't understand. His chest was fluttering and his stomach was in knots, he didn't know what was happening.

"Oh! Are you deaf? I know some sign language but I can write stuff down if it's easier." Before Yoongi had a chance to protest you were beginning to sign to him, something he didn't even understand himself but he was pretty sure you'd gotten it wrong.

"Can I get some tea?" He didn't know what was going on with his stomach but his grandfather always told him that tea solved most issues. Something warm to settle a raging stomach.

"Sure! I have a whole selction-" You were about to list off the extensive list you had when Yoongi shook his head,

"Early grey would be fine, with Milk."

"To go?" You arched a brow at him, most people that came in dressed the way he was got all of their orders to go. You knew the type he was, a businessman, too busy to learn the name of the place they were in but were loyal to it, it was nice.

"Erm," Yoongi glanced around and then down at his watch. He wasn't due back at work for another hour or so,

"I'll stay," He smiled at you and you nodded, pointing around the shop for him to sit anywhere he wanted. It wasn't like it was going to get busy anytime soon and your regular customer you'd had for a few months had suddenly stopped coming recently.

"Sure, make yourself comfortable." You gestured around the room and Yoongi stayed frozen in place,

"Don't you need my name for the order?" Yoongi countered you smirked a little at him.

"Because it'll get lost in the sea of customers?" You asked sarcastically, laughing nervously at the end,

"I guess that's true." He chuckles a little, and for the first time in a long time it feels like a genuine laugh from him, something he hadn't done for a long time

"He died?" Your voice was so sympathetic as soon as Yoongi told you about his grandfather, Rath, who had been your most loyal and regular customer. The two of you had been discussing your business for a while and you'd mentioned to Yoongi about having to close down soon if you weren't picking up in business.

"I wondered why he stopped coming by," You slowly sank down in the armchair opposite Yoongi and he smiled sadly down at the cup of tea in his hands.

"Were you close to my grandfather?" You weren't close with the man but he'd been coming in every day it felt like you were friends.

"I wouldn't say close but we did talk a lot whenever he was here, he loved you." You smiled, Rath had spoken so much about Yoongi that you felt as though you knew him but he hadn't been at all what you were expecting.

You'd expected some small, nerdy-looking guy but Yoongi was the opposite, he was built well, dressed in the finest of suits and looked as though he could be in the pages of magazines.

"I have a proposition for you." He suddenly said. Yoongi wasn't blind, he could see the business was going under and he knew you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Which is?" You laughed a little, looking up at the time and then back to Yoongi. The two of you had been sat talking for almost two hours now and still not a single other person had come in, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Yoongi, who was already concocting a plan in his mind.

"I need to get married." He said bluntly.

"And I need your help to do it." You held back the urge to laugh as you stared at him, you weren't sure what his grandfather had told him but you didn't know anyone in the market at the minute.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure I'm your girl, I can't help."

"But you can. You see, I have a lot of money and you need a lot of money." You knew that already, the Min family were richer than rich, one of the richest families in the world.

"What makes you think I NEED money?" You were trying to play it close to your chest, but it was true. You were desperate for money, your coffee machines were broken and you were behind on four months worth of rent.

"Yn, let's be real, your business is going under and I can help. I can keep you afloat or make you a huge success, whatever you want I can do that." As amazing as that sounded you still didn't know anyone that would be willing to just randomly get married to him,

"But I don't know anyone that wants to be married." You shook your head but Yoongi smirked at you,

"You can marry me," The words registered in your brain and you bit back the urge to laugh in his face.

"Are you insane?" You added a nervous laugh at the end and stood up, moving away from where he was sitting but he was quick to follow you.

"I have a lot of influence, I can easily make this place well known." He told you with a giant smile, your hands nervously tugged at the cleaning rag in your hand and you stared at him.

"Just for marrying you?"

"Just marrying me. All fake, no one would have to know we're not really together," Shit like this didn't happen in real life, only in books and really bad film adaptations, there had to be a catch.

"What do you get out of this? Why do you need a wife so badly?" Was this something he did on a regular? Ask random women to marry him and then never follow through with all of his promises.

"If I get married, I can collect my grandfather's part of the company but I need a wife." He was going to ignore the child part until absolutely necessary, he was sure there was a way out of that.

"Why wouldn't he leave it to you?" You frowned, Rath had seemed so sure of Yoongi, you were positive he would have left his Grandson something.

"He doesn't want me to end up alone," Yoongi admitted, your heart breaking a little as you remembered Rath mentioning he wished he'd never divorced Yoongi's grandmother,

"Oh."

"You'd get your business up and running, booming, I'd get half of the company away from my vultures of a family and everyone will be happy." You'd heard stories of the other side of Yoongi's family, stories from Rath and things you'd read about in the media.

"Okay...But there have to be some rules in place...A contract?"

"Agreed," Yoongi glanced down at his watch and bit his lip, he was already late for a meeting but that didn't matter.

"Come up to my office tonight, give your name to security and they'll bring you up. We'll work out a contract and hash out all of the details." He smiled warmly at you and you somehow believed him that all of this was going to work.

"My business will be fixed if I do this, right?"

"I promise." He breathed out before rushing out of the door, your heart racing at the thought of all of this becoming true. You glanced down at your outfit before cursing yourself, you were dressed in clothes with holes and your apron was torn to pieces.

"New outfit," You mumbled, heading to the door and locking it up. If you were going to go into business with Yoongi then you wanted to look the part.

"Come in," Yoongi called as he heard a small tapping at his office door, the day had gone on for longer than he'd liked and he was looking forward to writing out the contract and heading home for the night.

"Mr Min, Yn is here." His assistant announced before shutting the door, Yoongi slowly glanced up from his desk and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

He had been expecting you in the same scraps of clothes you had worn this morning but instead, you were dressed in a black pencil skirt and a red silk top that was unbuttoned to show just enough cleavage.

"Is this okay? It's the only thing I had left from my office days," You laughed nervously when you noticed him staring at you a little longer than he had done that morning.

"It's-It's erm, perfect." His voice stuttered and cracked as he stared at you. He had no idea that you could look this way and now he suddenly felt as though he was out of his depth.

"Please sit," He gestured to the seat in front of his desk before grabbing two bottles of water and sitting back down. By now you'd gotten out a worn leather-bond book from your bag and smiled.

"Let's get straight to it," You said, your tone businesslike yet hidden with a little humour. Yoongi smiled to himself, preparing his own notepad.

"We need some rules in place, so nothing is blurred along the way." He stated simply.

"Your business will be my number one priority during all of this. We'll sit down with a bookkeeper and organise your bills as well as figure out anything that's owed." You suddenly felt your chest tighten, you were in a massive amount of debt. Yoongi had already gone into research mode when he got home and knew everything you needed to pay off.

"T-That might be a lot. Are you sure you're up for it?" You hated that you were in so much debt, when you'd ventured out alone to own your own place you'd been so sure it would be great you could pay it back in no time.

"No issue, I assure you, I didn't become the CEO Of Min Media but shying away from challenges." Your debt wouldn't even cause a dent in his savings but he wasn't going to tell you that and make you feel bad about it.

"That means a lot...Thank you," You smiled warmly, the smile sent his stomach into knots once again, he really wanted to see someone about that.

"We need to keep everything strictly professional." You finally stated, looking up from your notepad and back at Yoongi who was, once again, staring at you.

"Agreed." He jotted it down on the notepad.

"Secondly, we can't tell anyone it's not real. It's imperative to me we keep everything hidden. We keep up a genuine illusion to appease my family and the shareholders." He told you, if anyone found out this was all fake he'd most likely lose his shareholdings as well as be the laughingstock of the media world.

"Agreed." You wrote it down, and Yoongi eyed you up. You'd been quiet about your family finding out and it worried him a little. He didn't want you to go around telling anyone it was fake, it would only take one slip-up for the world to know.

"What about your family?"

"What about them?" You asked, staring up at him with a blank expression on your face, Yoongi frowned.

"You can't tell them the truth." He reminded you and you nodded, your lips in a line as you shrugged your shoulders a little.

"Not a problem, I haven't spoken to them in almost four years since I went out on my own to own a cafe."

"Understood. We must present as a united front," He stared at you. His heart felt heavy at the thought of your family ignoring you for following your dreams.

"We will have to attend social events together, support each other publicly and appear as a happy married couple at all times." You nodded at him.

"I can handle that." It was no big deal, you'd get to dress fancy for a while and it would be fun,

"Living arrangements?" Yoongi wrote down and then stared at you,

"Well, I currently have a place in the lower part of Seoul, you're more than welcome to come and live with me," You teased only to be met with widened eyes.

"That was a joke Yoongi," You clarified with a small laugh,

"You can move in with me." He stated plainly, you frowned at him. As much as you hated your place you weren't sure moving in with him was the best idea.

"Is it necessary though?"

"Yn, once we're seen together you'll never get peace...People will want to know why a soon-to-be-married couple are living separately." You knew he was right, there would be too many questions and you didn't want to have to deal with them,

"Okay."

"I'll arrange a moving van for you tomorrow." He smiled, writing down on a sticky note to remind himself once the two of you were done.

"Can I suggest one more?"

"Sure." He looked up at you, expecting something about asking to be paid, or for more than you were getting out of it. All of which he was willing to do if it meant getting what he needed out of you.

"No falling in love. It's a business arrangement and any romantic feelings that may develop should be ignored." Yoongi was taken back but nodded his head at you.

"Of course. We have a deal." He smiled shaking your hand across the table.

With a sense of determination, you added a final clause to your contract: Yoongi would take over the financial management of Pages & Aromas, ensuring its stability and prosperity while also shouldering the burden of its debts.

"We will be announcing our marriage this weekend, it'll be held here. In the meantime, I'll pay your rent for the cafe," He stated as you both signed along the pieces of paper, Yoongi took them both into his grasp and filed them in his drawer his eyes lingering over the clause about not falling in love.

"I'd like it if you didn't work for a few months if that's okay?" He suggested, staring at you as you frowned.

"We can fix up the shop a little, have it redone to your specifications and then announce it as a grand opening."

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can do whatever you want, money is no issue."

"It is for me."

"We'll be married, what's mine...is yours," He stated before laying down a black card in front of you.

"Yoongi, it's already enough you're helping my business I can't take your money too." The statement was shocking, everyone Yoongi knew was always after his money, it was why he'd never dated in the past.

"Fine. But please keep it, you can use it as an emergency card, or if you need an outfit for an event...it's yours," He told you as you flipped the card over, already finding your name inscribed on it, had he been so sure about all of it since this morning?

"Okay. Fine."

"I'll have Alan drive you home and I'll see you tomorrow at my place." He smiled warmly at you as you got up from the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything but nodding your head.

With a sense of nervousness mingled with excitement, you stepped into Yoongi's luxurious penthouse apartment. Your final box had been taken up by a group of men and you were unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You walked through the door, slipping off your shoes before your eyes widened at the opulence that surrounded you. The spacious living area was adorned with sleek modern furniture and tasteful artwork while floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the city skyline below. You could practically see all of Seoul from up here, how did he get anything done? You knew you'd find yourself people-watching more than you should.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you set about unpacking your belongings, your mind racing with thoughts of the new chapter that lay ahead. As you sorted through boxes and arranged your stuff in their designated places, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in such a lavish environment.

"Mr Min will be late this evening, he said to make yourself at home," Alan, who had driven you home the night previous, said with a warm smile on his face. But how were you supposed to do that? You didn't know what you were and weren't allowed to do or even where to go. Did he have rooms off-limits to you? More questions flooded your mind but as the afternoon waned into evening, you found solace in the familiar routine of preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of food cooking on the stove grounding you in the present moment.

You'd always loved cooking, you were hungry and determined to make a good impression on Yoongi. Even going as far as to make your famous cake no one could say no to it.

By the time Yoongi arrived home, the apartment was filled with the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food and freshly baked treats. Stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of you bustling about the kitchen, a warm smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," You said, your voice infused with genuine warmth, something Yoongi hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in years. His eyes lit up with surprise and appreciation as he took in the scene before him.

"You've been busy," he remarked, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched you carefully. You shrugged modestly, a warm feeling spreading onto your cheeks.

"I wanted to do something nice for you. Dinner will be ready soon, and I made cake." Yoongi's smile widened as he crossed the room to envelop you in a grateful hug.

"Thank you, Yn. You didn't have to do all this." You were in shock at the hug at first, your heart thumping as you tried not to overthink it. He was just grateful for the food. You smiled a little, returning the embrace, a sense of contentment settling over you.

"I know. But I wanted to." You admit before going to set everything down on the table ready to eat.

It had been almost a week since the news had broke that you and Yoongi were going to be married and he'd been right. People followed you EVERYWHERE. You'd gone grocery shopping two nights after the news was released and you'd been followed by men with cameras, all of them screaming questions at you. Luckily you and Yoongi had already come up with a story for you both, something easy to remember. You'd met because of his grandfather and it had almost been love at first sight.

Tonight though you were at a restaurant together, your hands linked on the table as you stared lovingly at one another. All of it feels a little too real for you.

"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't find in a magazine or news article." You begged Yoongi. Since moving in with him you'd done extensive research on him, wanting to be prepared in case any of his crazy family members tried to doubt the two of you.

Yoongi stared at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about it. He was torn between the desire to open up to you and betraying your agreement but the look in your eyes made it hard to resist.

"Well, I've always loved astronomy," He confessed, his eye staring down at the glass feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"There's something about the vastness of the universe that puts everything into perspective." Your eyes lit up with interest, finally, something about him that wasn't run-of-the-mill CEO shit.

"That's beautiful," You whispered,

"I've always been drawn to the stars as well." You admit, the two of you getting lost in conversation and completely forgetting about the many people snapping photos of you together. Yoongi let himself open up to you more, finding himself falling in a freefall for you. His head reminded him of the agreement you'd made together, no falling in love and he couldn't risk jeopardizing everything.

"Why haven't you spoken to your family?" He suddenly found himself asking over dessert, your fork freezing midway to your mouth as your throat suddenly ran dry.

"They decided they didn't want me to ruin their family name,"

"But you were following your dreams, shouldn't that be something they were proud of you for doing?" He didn't understand how someone couldn't support the person they loved in everything that they did.

"The Score family don't follow dreams, they crush them," Your voice was flat and dry as you placed your fork down.

"Score? As in-"

"Lawyers, the best in the business." You hissed out, you hated that all of this was being bought up but you owed it to Yoongi to tell him the truth.

"I don't speak to them, biologically I'm their daughter but legally I'm not."

"You were emancipated?" He watched you closely and you nodded your head,

"As soon as I left the company I did it myself," You admit with a smile on your face, you were proud of what you'd done. Being a lawyer had never been your dream and if the people that had raised you had it their way you'd still be another cog in the inner workings of their awful company.

"Believe me Yoongi, they have nothing to do with me-" His hand was on top of yours, rubbing over your skin in a soothing motion.

"It wouldn't bother me if they were still in your life." He promises, a weight being lifted from your chest as you let out a happy sigh.

The two of you continued to talk all night long, discovering things each other you hadn't known before and it was starting to feel like a true friendship was forming.

Months began to fly by as you and Yoongi worked on your fake relationship and countless parties you attended together, business and personal, but tonight was the one you were most nervous about. You were pacing around in the living room of the apartment waiting for Yoongi to come down and meet you. Your hands nervously played with the purse you were holding, the prospect of meeting his family tonight looming over your head like a dark cloud.

The door to the living room opened and Yoongi stepped inside, freezing when he saw you pacing around but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were in a stunning floor-length gown, crimson colour to match his tie but it clung to your body perfectly, seeing you turned his blood to fire. You paced away from him giving him the perfect view of the back of the gown, which had a crisscrossing strap at the back, the fabric shimmering and glowing with every step you took.

"I don't know if I can do this." You admit to Yoongi once you notice him there. You'd been faking it with everyone and everyone believed you so far but were his family going to be so easy to convince?

"Your family...they're going to see right through me." Your voice trembled with uncertainty and Yoongi smiled weakly walking over to you. He was nervous himself but he wasn't going to admit it to you.

"Yn, you're stronger than you think." He told you, his hand gently reaching out and rubbing your arm.

"We'll get through tonight, together." He had no doubt the two of you could convince his family you were together, to be honest, he had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't real.

"What if they ask about our relationship and I cock the story up? What if they see through me?" He smiled down at you, running his hand over your cheek.

"We'll handle it, Yn. I won't let anything happen to you," And he meant it, if anything were to ever happen to you he knew he'd never survive it.

After months of spending every second by your side, he felt himself falling harder and harder in love with you until the point where everything was blurred except for you. All he cared about was a future with you. His words were like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of panic, you took in a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on everything again.

"And if they don't believe us? What happens to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"I'll make sure your business is taken care of, I'll not let anything happen to you but for now, let's focus on getting through tonight together." He whispers, kissing your hand softly as you feel a spark running through your veins. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, you could conquer anything that stood in your way. And with that realization, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

As the two of you made your way through the entrance, all eyes turned to greet you, your presence as a couple commanding attention amidst the sea of glamorous attendees.

"They're staring." You uttered to Yoongi as he smirked, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked together, your steps synchronized in harmony. Heads turned, smiles were exchanged and greetings were offered as you passed by people.

"How could they not? You look like you stepped out of a magazine, you look beautiful." It wasn't the first compliment that Yoongi had ever paid you, in fact, you'd grown used to the compliments he'd give to you all the time. Including the small hugs and kisses the two of you would share even if you were in public, it was clear lines were starting to blur but you weren't entirely sure you minded anymore.

"Look, it's Min Yoongi and his fiancée," Someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe.

"They're a stunning couple." Her date said back to her, their eyes trailing over you both as you moved through the crowd.

"Let's give them something to talk about," Yoongi whispered but before you had a chance to ask what he was talking about he was taking you over to the dance floor.

His hand rested gently on your waist, guiding you with a tender pull as you began to move around the dance floor together, the rest of the world fading into the background.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, each steps a silent conversation between you as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your heart raced with every beat, your breath catching in your throat as you allowed yourself to be swept up by the magic of the moment.

"You look beautiful," Yoongi whispered, your eyes locking as you stared at one another.

"You said that already," You mumbled nervously as he smirked to himself, moving in time with you as you fell back into a comfortable silence. Not a single word needed to be uttered as you knew what was happening to you, you were falling in love with him too fast and everything was falling apart around you. You continued to dance together, neither of you daring to speak the words that lingered in the back of your head. Knowing that acknowledging your love would shatter the delicate illusion you'd worked so hard to maintain.

"So this is the lovely Yn." You turned your head to face Juliain, Yoongi's father and Yoongi wrapped his arm tighter around your waist.

"Lovely dance the two of you did, your mother made me dance shortly after." He chuckles softly but Yoongi remains deadpan and unreadable, his grip on you tightening. You'd heard about Julilan from both Rath and Yoongi and you knew the man was bad news, a slimeball only after money.

"Julilan. Lovely to see you, shame you didn't make it to grandfather's funeral, it was a lovely service." Yoongi said coldly, your eyes staring up at him. Julian had refused to go to the funeral but had gone to the reading of the will, only to see what he was entitled to.

"I have no doubt, you always knew how to throw a party." Julian laughed but your heart shattered, Rath had been an amazing man and to insinuate that a party was held for his dying instead of a grand funeral boiled your blood.

"Party? A man died-"

"Hush. You don't speak unless spoken to." Julian said in a dismissive tone, your mouth dropping open as you couldn't believe the man in front of you.

"With all due respect, sir, I am not a decoration on Yoongi's arm I am his Fiancée," You spoke clearly but Julian turned to look at his son who was now red in the face,

"I see she has no manners or concept of brains. Where did you pick her up? A brothel?" Your stomach dropped as you looked down at yourself, was he implying you looked like a whore? The woman who had dressed you tonight told you that you'd looked elegant.

"Don't." Yoongi seethed through gritted teeth,

"Women should be seen and not heard. Act like the trophy wife you are meant to be." Julian was in your face but within seconds he was shoved away by Yoongi, a smirk playing on his father's lips as he realised he was getting under his skin.

"Don't speak to my wife like that." He ordered but you pulled at his arm, you could already see people starting to stare and Yoongi didn't need the bad press.

"You're not married yet. Are you really going to cause a scene over a woman? Behave." He hissed at him, you stared at him as you waited for him to insult him one last time.

"Still just a child." He muttered, about to walk away when you finally found your voice once more.

"A child who has done more than you'll ever accomplish in your life." You hissed out at him, earning a smirk from Yoongi, he had to admit he was proud of you for not backing down from him.

"Why you little-" A hand was raised in the air but Yoongi caught it, shoving his father away from you.

"I see why you hate the man." You mumbled as Yoongi checked on you, his eyes softening once he saw you were okay.

"If he'd hurt you just then." It didn't bear to think about, he was angry, blood-curdling as he thought about the way his father had gone to strike you.

"He didn't." You whispered to him, your hand rubbing his back softly but it did nothing to calm him down right now.

"I'd kill him."

"Yoongi." You pleaded with him, but he was lost in his own anger.

"He's a disgusting piece of shit and I would have killed him." You stepped in front of him, your eyes finding his as he stared down at you in shock,

"But then I'd have no one to watch the stars with," You whispered only for his whole body to relax and he nodded slowly at you.

"Let's get some food and go out on the balcony, we can go and look at the stars and pretend Julian isn't even here," You offered to him.

Yoongi ventured off to fetch some food and you found yourself alone in the gala, looking around at everyone who was dancing together or mingling. This world was something you'd never thought you'd fit into before but after spending so much time in it, it almost felt like home.

"Ah, Yn dear, there you are." You slowly turned around to see Mia, Rath's ex-wife making her way to you with a giant smile on her face.

"I've been meaning to have a word with you," She said as she reached you, her voice gentle and a welcoming contrast compared to her son.

"Of course, Mrs Min. Is everything alright?" You eyed her up as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"No one's called me that in years, call me Mia." She begged, you nodded at her and slowly made your way out onto the balcony to talk better together.

"I wanted to first tell you how happy I am that Evan has found someone like you." Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart fluttering at the unexpected praise.

"T-Thank you, Mia. That means a lot to me." Mia reached out to pat your hand affectionately.

"You know, I've seen the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Rath used to look at me." Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of her words.

"I...I'm not sure what you mean." She chuckled softly at you,

"Oh, my dear, don't be so modest. It's written all over his face- He loves you, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you, even if you were faking it at first." You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to process everything you'd just heard. Yoongi loved you - truly, deeply and unequivocally and that sent a surge of panic through you.

"Rath would have adored seeing you both together," Mia added before giving you an envelope.

"In my side of the will I was to give this to the beautiful girl from the cafe, now I assume that's you." You stared down at the envelope and nodded, quickly placing it into your bag to look at another time, when you weren't so stressed.

"I-I have to go," You rushed out, panic taking over you as you began to hurry through the crowded hall. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, you loved him too but there was no way you could do this. You raced around a corner when you collided with Yoongi, sending you both sprawling to the floor.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Concern was etched in his features as he reached out to steady you. Your breathing turned tagged as you struggled to compose yourself, slowly standing up.

"I...I need to talk to you," Your voice barely came out above a whisper but Yoongi nodded, leading you to a nearby alcove away from prying eyes.

"What is it, Yn? You're shaking." He reached out to touch you and you took in a deep breath, words tumbling out in a rush as you fought to make sense of everything.

"I just spoke to your grandmother, and she...she said that you love me, Yoongi. And...I...I don't know what to do." Yoongi's expression softened as he reached out to cup your trembling hands in his, his touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through you.

"Yn, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming but you need to understand something...you belong here with me," You stared up at him as he didn't deny falling for you, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head.

"I ran away from this world."

"And now you're back but I promise it'll be nothing like your family's world." He breathed out as you stared at him, his eyes boring into you,

"You belong here, with me."

` "What if you suddenly decide I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" Yoongi brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"You're everything I need, Yn. Your love, your strength, your unwavering support - it's more than I could ever hope for. And as long as we have each other, we can face whatever comes our way." Tears began to melt away as you stared at him.

"I love you, Yoongi." You whispered, the words feeling like a weight was taken right off our chest.

"I love you, Yn, Always." He whispered.

With a soft sigh, he closed the distance between you and you leaned in slowly to him. It felt like an eternity until your lips met in a tender kiss, time seemed to stand still as you savoured the sweetness of the moment, your hearts beating in harmony as you finally surrendered to the pull of love. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, of hope and promise.

When you pulled away your foreheads touched and you giggled a little.

"Let's go home, I wanna show you how much I really love you," He winks, as you squeal a little taking his hand and practically dragging him out of the party.

Months Later

"CEO'S Expecting: Min Yoongi and Min Yn Announce Pregnancy, Anticipate The New Heir To The Legacy?" You read out the title of the "Webber Files" newspaper and stared over at Yoongi with a blank expression.

"I see why their paper sucks," You grumbled, folding it up and staring at your husband who hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.

"Don't look at me like that, the last time you looked at me like that, this happened!" You stated, pointing down at your baby bump and whining at him.

"But we had fun," He wiggled his eyebrows at you and sat down beside you on the sofa, the two of you curling up together on a lazy Saturday morning.

"We did," You giggled as he ran his hand over your bump, smiling happily to himself. Not long after you found out you were expecting Yoongi told you the other stipulation about getting his grandfather's portion of the company and that was a child but you couldn't have been happier it was happening.

"Julian will flip a lid." You laughed at the thought of his father finding out about his son having a child but more importantly, you couldn't wait for him to figure out he was getting nothing in the will besides a small shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, I meant to say. Gran asked if you'd looked into the envelope yet. Whatever that means," He frowns and you reach out for your bag, opening it up to find the envelope still sitting there.

As you took it out and opened it you couldn't believe what you were reading.

"By now I assume Yoongi and yourself are together and knowing My Mia she would have given this to you at the appropriate time, but enclosed are the deeds to your cafe. All yours, all paid for, as well as the number to my lawyer who will arrange for you to inherit some money as an investment to you and your dream.

Best Wishes,

Rath,"

You and Yoongi stared at one another, laughing a little as you realised Rath had been planning your get-together for a very long time.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #suga #suga x reader #suga imagine #suga imagines

1K notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Text

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader)

Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.

Word Count: 2,701

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.

Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.

He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.

In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.

He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.

Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.

Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.

Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.

When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.

"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.

Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.

"Yes, hello indeed."

She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.

"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"

He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.

"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."

He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.

"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.

"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"

"Is that why you've come to join me?"

Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.

"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"

After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.

Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.

It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.

Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.

"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.

Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.

"Miss what, my dear?"

"Life."

He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.

"Not particularly. I take it you do?"

Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.

"Sometimes." she admitted.

Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.

That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.

It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.

"What do you miss?"

"My mom."

And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.

"Were you two close?"

Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.

"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."

"What landed you down here?"

Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.

"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"

"We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Alastor..."

"Shoot me, I'm curious."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"

Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.

"Deal."

"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."

"You made a deal."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So spill."

Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.

"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"

"Really?"

Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.

"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"

There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.

"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."

It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.

"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"

Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.

"I was a serial killer."

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Really? You? But you're so..."

"So what, my dear?"

"So nice."

Alastor stilled.

"Nice?" he repeated.

Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.

At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.

"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."

The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.

It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.

Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.

The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.

Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.

"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"

All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.

Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was then he noticed the radio on the table.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."

"Where did you get that?"

"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."

Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.

"You heard todays broadcast?"

"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"

Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.

"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."

"You didn't tell me you were my killer."

His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.

"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.

"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."

"And you think it was me, my heart?"

"Alastor." she crossed her arms.

"I..."

"How could you not tell me?"

Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.

"I didn't me-"

"Mean for me to find out?"

"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.

Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.

"But also, I didn't mean to-"

"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"

"I..."

The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.

"My darling, my heart, m-"

"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.

She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.

"I... I need some time."

"No, Y/n, wait. Please."

Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.

"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."

"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."

"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."

"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."

2K notes · View notes

shadesoflsk · 3 months

Text

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it.

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?”

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now?

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader

1K notes · View notes

leviscolwill · 5 months

Text

lovelorn and nobody knows ★

pairing: jude bellingham x mclaren driver!reader [face claim: amna al qubaisi]

in which: jude wants to be the most supportive boyfriend, even if it means ruining your soft launch

note: for plot reasons, let's pretend mp motorsports is mclaren. hope my f1 reader! enthusiasts like this one 🩷

now playing slut! by taylor swift...

judebellingham

liked by madders, yn.isracing and 1,369,097 others

judebellingham yeehaw 🤠

view all comments

yn.isracing whore. [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

yn.isracing save a horse ride a uhhhh [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

camavinga texas boy with a british accent, i've truly seen it all 💀

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, olliebearman and 476,916 others

yn.isracing in my cowgirl era

view all comments

user91 NOOOO MY GIRLFRIEND HAS A BOYFRIEND IT'S SO OVER 😭😭

your.bsf whatever he's doing i can do better i swear

yn.isracing i can name a couple things idk

your.bsf i don't think i wanna know...

yn.isracing

liked by mclaren, louisvuitton and 1,182,764 others

yn.isracing city of love <3

view all comments

your.bsf that should be me 💔💔💔

judebellingham 😝😝😝 [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham croissant bag

yn.isracing yummy!

judebellingham j'aime les pieds 😍 [i like feet]

judebellingham my french professors told me it means pretty girl in french btw 🤭

camavinga 🤣🤣🤣

aurelientchm 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

jobebellingham who are u holding 🤨

yn.isracing some stray dog i found

jobebellingham so nice of you 🥰

judebellingham FUCK OFF ??? [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham STOP SILENCING ME [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham

liked by centralcee, jobebellingham and 1,620,261 others

judebellingham some wannabe z lister (not me but you know)

view all comments

📌 judebellingham she's responsible for this caption btw

user22 jude soft launching his gf + her turning him into a swiftie was NOT on my 2023 bingo

user16 thank u for the roses bae xx

user77 me when i'm deluded

yn.isracing

liked by marcusarmstrong, f1 and 1,610,618 others

yn.isracing i'll be home for quismois 🎅

view all comments

your.bsf finally i get my girl back damn

yn.isracing i never left u 🤸🏻‍♀️

your.bsf you did, for a m*n 😁

user44 i just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door 😫😫

jude5updates

liked by 99,729 users

jude5updates jude was seen at winter wonderland with friends yesterday during christmas break

view all comments

user62 he was so sweet !! and the girl he was with was super pretty 👩🏻‍🦯

user11 that was me

user90 the dots are connecting...

user07 girl bffr, they could be just friends 🙄

user19 that's a lot of coincidences miss yn.isracing 🤨🤨

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, landonorris and 2,925,727 others

yn.isracing bitch don't tell me that you model if you ain't been in harper's bazaar or sum like that

view all comments

landonorris 😍😍

judebellingham back off shorty [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham whoa

judebellingham drive me around pls

judebellingham doggy, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, upside down, inside out, one leg up, two legs up, in public, on a spaceship, in the garden, on the grass, in a car, in a box, on a table, against a wall [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

yn.isracing bitch wtf

judebellingham

why do u keep deleting my comments :(

i just wanna love on my girl 😓

yn.isracing

because u lost your whole mind

you truly have no shame 💀

judebellingham

but you keep deleting my funny comments

ppl are gonna think i have no game

yn.isracing

well...

they wouldn't be wrong !

judebellingham

you know damn well...

how did i bag u then ?? uh !!?!;!?#;#(

yn.isracing

charity work from my end xx

judebellingham

i hate you

yn.isracing

no you don't

judebellingham

no i don't

i feel like i'm being reasonable tbh

i could bark in your comments

do you want me to bark in your comments ?

yn.isracing

NO ?????

maybe i do idk

judebellingham

furry 😧

but seriously tho

i don't like being a secret

i just wanna show off my gf idk

yn.isracing

we agreed to keep it on the low for now

judebellingham

but i'm starting to regret it

it's so hard not to insult your teammate ❤️

yn.isracing

HE'S JUST BEING NICE

judebellingham

nooo he can fuck off

only i get to be nice to you

others have to bully you

i want to renegotiate our contract

yn.isracing

girl what contract are u talking abt

judebellingham

we don't have to post everything abt us

i just wanna show my appreciation properly

but still stay private

everyone knows anyways

pleaseeee 🥺🥺🥺

yn.isracing

wtf delete

the emojis i'm 🤢

i guess... maybe...

judebellingham

?????

yn.isracing

we can compromise...

judebellingham

liked by yn.isracing, benchilwell and 2,619,015 others

judebellingham passenger princess (me)

view all comments

📌 judebellingham she forced me to use this caption

jobebellingham stop lying now

yn.isracing oh i love you so very much

yn.isracing MY PERFECT BOYFRIEND WHO DOESN'T NEED A DRIVER'S LICENSE

yungfilly pretty girlfriend + personal driver is CRAZY

yn.isracing he's not paying me for the extra hours 😪

judebellingham i'm paying you in kisses, jokes and other tomfooleries 🙄

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, mclaren and 2,081,620 others

yn.isracing that's a wrap for my rookie year in f1 + first win woooo. thank you of the support, see you next year 🤪

view all comments

mclaren here's to many more years and wins together ;)

judebellingham so so so so proud of you

judebellingham you're so good at everything it's so sexy of you whoa

jobebellingham have some shame

gioreyna down bad

judebellingham noooo she stole my phone wtf hahaha i never commented that lol

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smau #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football imagine #football x reader #footballer imagine #football smau

1K notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

2K notes · View notes

lucysarah-c · 21 days

Text

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.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

479 notes · View notes

surielstea · 14 days

Text

Jealous Girl

Based on this request.

Paring: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader gets jealous over a girl flirting with Azriel at the pleasure hall.

Warnings: fluff, slight insecurities, one use of ‘y/n’

2.8k words

I was plotting murder. I didn't even know the girl's name, but I knew she was touching Azriel's arm, giggling at every word he said, and gods— the way she looked up at him with those overfamiliar blue eyes like she didn't know what she was doing made me sick.

And he just let her.

I was enraged, beyond furious— I could barely get control of myself if it weren't for Cassian beside me, distracting me by talking my ear off.

Rita's was packed tonight, so when Azriel offered to go get me a drink I didn't deny it, he knew I wouldn't want to get into that mess of a crowd at the bar so he went by himself. Cassian and I stayed behind but that damned blonde couldn't keep her hands to herself and it was going to drive me mad.

"And they acted like I took down an entire city— it was one building!" Cassian groaned and I nodded along to whatever he was saying, my mind entirely too focused on the shadow singer located at the other side of the pleasure hall. "So I'm not allowed at the Summer Court anymore," Cassian sighed, scratching his jaw with a defeated expression and I dipped my head absentmindedly. "Are you alright? You haven't said anything since Az left," He prods my shoulder and I blink, my eyes refocusing on the large male in front of me instead of the one across the room.

"Uh, yeah just was thinking it'd be nice to visit Adriatta, I've never been," I shrug, my quick lie making him narrow his eyes on me.

"You sure?" He leans closer and I mirror it with a step back. My gaze flicks to Azriel for a fraction of a second before going right back to Cassian. He was still talking to that girl— or she was talking to him, he was just listening. "Oh, I see what this is about," Cassian smiles broadly, staring right at the duo I was trying so hard not to gain the attention of.

"Cass," I grumble, pulling him away from the two at the bar and facing the other side of the hall, backs turned toward the shadow singer.

"You're jealous," He croons and I avoid his gaze, knowing if I looked at him he'd be able to read me like an open book. So instead I looked down at my ankles where Azriel's shadows twined.

"I don't get jealous," I scoff, crossing my arms. He chuckles mischievously.

"Envious then?" He surmises and I playfully punch him in the shoulder before muttering, "There's nothing to be jealous over, Azriel can do whatever he wants."

"Even if he wants a particular blonde?"

"Well don't make it worse!" I whine and he only laughs at my reaction, making me groan in exasperation.

"He's made it clear enough that he doesn't want me," I murmur, shadows slipping up to my thighs and the Illyrian beside me bumps his shoulder with mine reassuringly.

"Az tells me the same shit about you," He claims and I look up at him with narrowed brows.

"Last time you intervened on me and Az's friendship, he and I didn't talk for a week," I remind and Cassian smiles proudly.

"And now you're stronger than ever, seems like you should take my advice more often," He crosses his arms over his chest defensively. I turn my head slightly to look at the blonde, this time I catch a glimpse of her face. I swore I'd seen her before, but I couldn't quite place where from.

"Does it make you mad he's talking to her?" Cassian taunts from beside my ear. "Letting her touch him?" He sings and I push the Lord of Bloodshed away in frustration as he cackles, his raucous laughter slowly fading as I march my way through the crowd, which divided in sight of Azriel's silky shadows swirling from my arms as if they were mine to control.

I pushed my way past grinding bodies until I managed to land right beside the Spymaster. His hazel eyes met my own and a soft smile spread over his lips. I joined his side and his arm came around my waist as if it were meant to fit there, slotting perfectly in place. I met the face of the blonde girl and it clicked that face, I knew her.

"Y/n!" The girl squealed and I blinked in slight surprise.

"Misha?" My brows raise a fraction.

"My gods, I haven't seen you since the healing camps, how have you been?" She gasped and I looked up at Azriel who was staring at the both of us confused.

"Oh my gods, are you two like a thing?" Misha asks excitedly.

"Oh, we're—" Azriel starts.

"Engaged," I finished for him, the lie coming so easily it shocked us both. Her jaw drops. Misha had always been better than me, at everything. When we were training to become healers she always had to be one step ahead, always had to go above and beyond while I was struggling to meet my deadlines. She was pretty and fun, and for once, I just wanted to be above her, to feel that power she must feel at a constant— and if that meant lying about my relationship status with one of the hottest men on the continent, so be it.

"Let me see the ring!" She squealed, happy for me. I hated that. She didn't seem to have an envious bone in her body, and why would she? She was the ideal emulation of perfection. For her, there was nothing to be jealous of.

"Oh I don't have it on me, Az here loves his secrets being spymaster and all so I don't wear it out," I pat his abdomen with a feigned smile, and he flexes under my touch.

"Giving her a ring is like putting a target on her back," Azriel plays along, I hadn't expected him to, honestly I was hoping he'd just stand there and nod and not say anything but this was so much better.

"Awe isn't that just precious," She smiles, a natural blush coming to her pale cheeks. "I'm still waiting to find the one," She sighs. "You're lucky you came over or I would've tried to swoop him up!" She giggled light-heartedly and I matched it, but it was fake, gods I wanted to claw her face off.

"No, no he's all mine," I sigh contentedly, leaning into his side while his grip on my waist tightened.

"When'd you know she was the one?" She directs at Azriel and I swallow thickly. The Shadow Singer was a good liar, but would he lie if only to play this game with me?

"I've always known, the moment I met her my Shadows practically mummified her, so I suppose they were the ones to tell me," Azriel says, his story reigned true, I can still remember how embarrassed he was, repeatedly swearing that they had never done that before when the Dark clung to me without resistance. Those same shadows now pooled at my feet. "And it was kind of hard to not fall from there," He adds and I look up at him, only to see him already staring down at me. Gods he was good at this role, he slipped so easily into it— if I didn't know any better I'd think we were actually engaged.

"You guys are adorable, I can only dream of having a male like you," She sighs and I grit my teeth. Was she seriously hitting on him after I just told her were to be married?

The bartender places a lone fruity drink down in front of the three of us and Misha takes it with a bright smile. "It was nice catching up with you, we should totally hang out sometime," She offered and I pinch my lower lip between my teeth.

"I'm kind of busy with all this wedding stuff, maybe after," I shrug, giving her the hint that I wanted nothing to do with her beyond this interaction.

"Right, keep me updated," She flashes a smile and leaves with a wink toward Azriel as she leaves.

"What was that?" Azriel murmured as soon as she was out of earshot. I unraveled my arm from his torso and he did the same with my waist. I shrugged.

"She doesn't deserve you," I mumbled, leaning against the bar.

"She seemed nice enough for a night," Azriel hummed and I rolled my eyes.

"I know Misha, you don't want a girl like her," I shake my head. The bartender places two glasses in front of me. I take the one on the left, the drink I always ordered.

"You really hate her huh?" He leans closer, taking his drink.

"She fucked my boyfriend while we were still dating," I grumbled. "Seemed like she wanted to fuck you too after I told her we were engaged, she hasn't changed," I huff and his brows rise a fraction.

"It's kind of fun playing the role of your fiancé," He says, his chin propping up onto my head as his hands snake around my waist. I smile.

"What's your ex-boyfriend's name, just for reference?" He said and I giggled.

"You're not killing him," I warn, turning around to face him, my back to the bar and my chest to his.

"A light torture," He shrugs.

"Your version of light torture is another males hell," I reason.

"So why'd you lie? About us being together?" He asks, head tilting. I twist my lips to the side.

"She's always been ahead of me, I wanted to win for once," I grumble, sounding pitiful aloud.

"Ahead of you how?" He questions and I frown, not wanting to say it.

"I don't know, she's prettier than me," I grumble.

"Lies, you're the prettiest girl in the whole wide world," He reasons and I scoff, shaking my head with a small smile.

"You don't have to do that," I excuse. "Do what?"

"Lie in order to make me feel better, it's fine, really," I argue with him but I swear it went in one ear and out the other.

"I'm not lying," He denies.

"But you are making me feel better?" I question.

"You tell me." He smiles and I don't reply, because he was, and I didn't want to give him that ego boost. "So you think she's prettier— which she's not, what else?" He arches a brow and tilts his head. I shrug, avoiding his gaze.

"Cass says I'm jealous," I exhale, crossing my arms over my chest and looking up at him with a pout.

"Of what?" His hand comes to my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw as if of was a casual movement.

"The way she looked at you, how you let her touch you," I explain and his gaze softened.

"I'm the one touching you now, right?" He surmises, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as I continue to scowl up at him.

"It was different Az, you were flirting with her. I could see it," I rolled my eyes and he only smiled.

"And what are we doing now?" He questioned. If he was waiting for me to admit to whatever this was between us, I wasn't going to.

"A friendly conversation," I shrug and he leans down, closer to me. I press back into the counter behind me.

"I think pinning you to the bar is anything but friendly," He concludes. "That's normal for us."

"Why do you think that is?"

I don't answer. He's trapped me into recognizing what I refused to so I don't say anything at all. It was devastatingly obvious that I wanted him, did he have to rub salt in the wound? "You want to get out of here?" He asks after a moment of silence. I swallow thickly and settle over the fact that this is my chance, and perhaps my only one if I don't take it. So I nod, and he takes my hand.

The walk home was silent, Azriel offered to fly us back but I preferred to walk along the Sidra, it was quiet enough at this time of night to be able to hear the crickets chirping and the frogs croaking. It was peaceful, and the night breeze always patched up whatever had been broken in the past few weeks. It was refreshing and peaceful and everything I needed.

The steps to my apartment were in sight when I finally got the courage to speak.

"Cassian was right, I was jealous," I confess and his brows raise a fraction, his gaze sliding to me with curious eyes. "I just, I want you to look at me the way you looked at her," My confession knocks me off balance, if he had a reaction I didn't notice.

"I don't," He says curtly and I blink, slightly taken aback. "I looked at her like that because she was a stranger, I never want you to be unfamiliar," He explains and my heart pounds against my ribs so hard I thought they might break.

I stop at the first step of my apartment, freezing in place due to his confession. "Are you blushing?" He teased when I turned to face him and even with my advantage of the first step, he still stood a few inches taller than me.

"Shut up," I grumble, pressing my hands to my face to hide myself from his piercing stare.

"Are you going to make me?" He grabs my wrists and takes my hands from my face, revealing that he has leaned so much closer. "Hm? Fiancée?" He jeers and my blush deepens in color.

"You're never letting that go, are you?" I sigh, slinging my arms around his neck, still trying to grasp the fact that he was so close, that he was willing to be so close.

"Not ever," He shakes his head, his eyes flicking down from my eyes to my lips, then right back to my eyes so fast I would've missed it if I blinked. My breath catches in my throat but neither of us makes a move to pull away, just remain inches away, wondering if the other will do what we've been dancing around all this time.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but I beat him to it, walking up another step and away from his very tempting lips.

"I better get to bed, it's been a long day," I excuse as I stumble up the stairs but before I can get far he grabs my hand and pulls me right back down. I stumble right into his chest and he smiles down at me, his other hand coming to my waist.

"You really thought I wasn't going to kiss you?" He hums and I'm nothing but stunned.

"A little, yeah," I murmur.

"You're ridiculous," He mumbles as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. I melt into him, my arms coming around the back of his neck as I revel in this moment, gods it was just how I had imagined.

His lips were soft and his movements were skilled, his hands on my hips distracting me entirely as he gripped them tight, pulling me impossibly closer like he couldn't get enough. My hands go into his hair, pushing his mouth onto mine with a restless intent. There was a burning fire inside of me and he seemed to be the only thing that defused it, yet still, I couldn't get enough.

He pulled away first and I reluctantly followed his actions. "Do you want to come up?" I offer and he smirks, then it falters and he shakes his head no. My smile morphs into a frown. Did he think it was a mistake? He hasn't moved away, he didn't seem repulsed.

"We should go slow, I want to do this right," He explains and my smile returns, much to his satisfaction.

"Then why don't you come up for a glass of wine? We don't have to do anything," I say, desperate at this point for anything he'd give me.

"You know if I go up there we won't just be kissing," He reasons and I shrug mischievously.

"There's nothing wrong with that," I grin, my arms around the back of his neck tightening.

"I'm doing it the right way, I'm taking you out tomorrow, be ready by dawn," He flashes me a grin, his touch lingering on my hips as he slowly pulls away.

"Dawn?!" I gasp a little too loudly for my quiet street.

"We're going to be doing stuff all day," He smiles. "Be ready," He demands and I groan, wishing I could have him in my arms again. "I'll see you at dawn, my love," He waves from over his shoulder.

My love, he said. I could feel my heart swelling and before I could forget how to walk I quickly made my way up the stairs and into my apartment with a wide grin over my features.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @sarawritestories @tele86 @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @quiettuba @judig92 @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @dnfhascorruptedme @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @thestartitaness @mommyofkittens @thesillyyogourt @pruvii @hdigditditdjgd @sourholland

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

649 notes · View notes

nouearth · 9 months

Text

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

gif credits to: fukutomichi!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

2K notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 18 days

Note

HIIIIII I've been thinking a lot these last few days.... heeseung being an angel (could be a fallen angel or something) falling in love with a mortal, but they can't be together because angels and human beings together are completely prohibited... a totally hot and forbidden love

— 🐇💨

I am so in love with this concept. the minute this popped up in my askbox I knew I had to write it asap. I apologize for this being so long idk what happened my fingers just wouldn’t stop typing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

fallen angel: lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader word count: 7.6k

Heeseung never sinned. Ever. Never once said anything bad about anyone, never once cursed, never once gossiped, kept his emotions in check, never had a single terrible thought about someone else, never committed any crimes, and always—always—had a pure heart.

That was until you.

Heeseung was God's most prized angel. He did anything and everything that was asked of him. Never once defying God’s wishes or commands. His pure heart is the whole reason that when he well, died, he was the first one selected to be God’s second hand. Heeseung lived his whole life dedicated to his church and doing nothing but good.

But you? Oh, you. You were the first temptation Heeseung ever got.

“I have a job for you, my angel,” God spoke to him.

Heeseung knelt down on one knee with one hand over his chest, bowing his head, “Anything for you, my savior.”

“We have a family that needs a blessing, a pure angel to take away their worries. They are struggling hard. Go down to land and help this family. I trust you with this one, Heeseung. Please.”

Heeseung didn’t hesitate. Nodding and accepting the job God had to offer him.

Heeseung stretched his wings, preparing for his flight down to the mortal lands. The trip didn’t take long and the minute the tips of his shoes touched solid land, his whole outfit changed and his wings were hidden. From the bright white robes and dress shoes to tanned brown boots, light blue jeans, and a black button-up dress shirt. It was one of Heeseung’s favorite outfits to wear when he came to the mortal lands.

He looked around the city he landed in, watching as the mortals passed by him and crossed over the street. The sounds of cars honking and people yelling filled his ears along with the smells of the city. Heeseung smiled, remembering his time as a mortal and seeing how much had changed over the thousand years he’d been away.

Pushing away the memories of the past, Heeseung starts his walk in the direction God told him this family would be. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, smiling brightly as he walked past the mortals, none of them paying him any mind as they went about their normal lives.

“Fuck!”

Heeseung chuckled at the curse, shaking his head. He wasn’t used to hearing such vulgar language. His eyes searched the sea of people around him to see where I came from, his curiosity taking over him.

You were running down the street, hairtye in your mouth as you pulled back your long hair back into a ponytail, quickly pulling the band from your mouth and twisting it in your hair. With how you were rushing, Heeseung knew you were the one he heard the curse come from. You looked down at your watch, letting more curses escape your lips, “I am going to be so fucking late! Holy fucking shit.”

Heeseung raised his brows at the language, “Jeez…mortals never change.” He wasn’t judging, he understood life as a mortal wasn’t the easiest and everyone had their roles to play. It wasn’t his job to judge anyway, he left that up to God.

But you kept pushing along, pulling your phone from your pocket and dialing a number, “Pick up, please for the love of fucking God pick up!”

You were so focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t even realize you ran into Heeseung, smacking your shoulder into his. Heeseung didn’t move an inch at your touch, but you nearly fell to your knees. Heeseung stopped to face you, making sure you were okay but seeing you catch your balance before tumbling over, looking back over your shoulder and snarling at him, “Asshole…” you mumbled under your breath as you still pushed along down the street.

Heeseung blankly stared at you then shoved his hands back in his pockets and continued to his destination, saying a small prayer for you.

It didn’t take much longer for Heeseung to reach the small house right outside the city. He took a deep breath and smiled wide, knocking on the door.

A man opened the door, his eyes puffy and red from crying and now full of confusion looking at Heeseung, “Can I help you?”

Heeseung smiled even more, “I am here to help you.”

The man gave him an even more confused look, “Excuse me?”

A small cough could be heard within the house and soft sobs followed after it.

Heeseung peeked into the house, “Your child, they’re sick,” the man looked down to the ground, putting his lips into a thin line, “I can help. I was sent here to do so.”

The man flicked his eyes back up at Heeseung, studying him, “Are you the angel we asked God to send?”

Heeseung gently nodded.

He was led into the home and to their child’s bedroom. The mother was hovering over her child, who looked to be about eight. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was uneven. He was going to die soon, Heeseung could sense it, could see it. The poor boy still had so much life left to live, and that’s why God sent Heeseung here. To heal this child.

Heeseung placed a gentle hand on the mother, her pleading eyes staring up at him. Once she realized who he was, she reached for his hand, “Dear angel, save my baby boy.”

Heeseung held her hand tight and nodded. With his free hand, he placed it against the boy's chest, sending a small ounce of healing power to him, reciting a prayer. The boy's mother and father joined him in the prayer, their cries slowly fading out as the heartbeat and breathing of their child became steady.

The family thanked Heeseung more times than he could count. His face hurt from the amount of smiling he did during those hours he sat in their home. They even cooked him dinner as a thanks. Once Heeseung walked out of the home, he understood why God chose this family. The boy had much life to give, and his parents were good and pure souls.

Heeseung walked back into the city, hands behind his back as he stared at the nightlife. Loving all the lights that lit up the city perfectly. The hustling life of mortals laughing with friends and family as they head out for dinner or to even party.

Hopefully, God won’t mind that I take a small walk before heading back.

Heeseung walked as far as he could, finally deciding it was time to head back to the golden gates.

That was until he saw you.

Heeseung stood at a crosswalk, cars flying by and the wind blowing his silver hair and clothes in all directions. You popped up to his right, your phone once again was in your hands, thumbs pressing away at the screen.

Time seemed to slow down then. The red hand that illuminated the crosswalk to not cross flashed its light. The cars fast-paced slowed. Heeseung turned his head to look at you, watching as you continued to step from the sidewalk and into the street, not paying any attention.

His heart raced faster, eyes widening as he looked to his left, seeing a car passing into the next lane without using a blinker and showing no signs of slowing down or even honking their horn at you to show they were there.

Heeseung acted fast, stepping down from the curb, hands reaching out to grab your shoulders and pull you back against him. Heeseung released his wings, wrapping them around you and twirling you around and back to the sidewalk.

Time went back to normal, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. How stupid could you be to walk out into the street in the middle of rush hour while on your phone? You could have died. That’s when you noticed the white wings wrapped over you along with the strong arms that held you tightly.

You looked up, resting your head against his chest, seeing it was the man you ran into earlier, seeing him staring back down at you. His chest raised and fell quickly, his warm breath touching your face. He’s an angel. An actual, real-life angel. Ones you’ve only been told about from stories as a child.

Heeseung pulled his wings back behind him and hid them from the human eye once again. Seeing the other mortals around didn’t take any notice. He continued to stare into your eyes, “You silly little thing.”

The longer the two of you looked at each other, the more your heart wanted to rip from your chest. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. You felt safe in his arms and without knowing you leaned more against him, Heeseung, as if on instinct, held you tighter against him.

“Thank you,” you finally managed to say, your cold hands touching his where they sat against your forearms, “For saving me.”

Feeling your cold touch brought Heeseung back to reality. He smiled and released his arms from you, “Try and pay better attention next time, okay?”

You turned to fully face him. Every fiber of your being wanted to cling to him. Your heart is calling for him.

Heeseung kept his smile, giving you a small nod, and prepared to turn away.

“Wait!” you quickly shouted, your hands now grasping at the back of his shirt. Heeseung looked over his shoulder at you, “Let me make it up to you, for saving me. And to apologize for calling you an asshole earlier.”

Heeseung chuckled, “Being nice to an angel won’t get you into heaven, silly mortal.”

You bit at the skin on your lip, “I really just want to thank you.”

Heeseung looked up to the sky and then shrugged. God can wait for a bit longer.

He followed close behind you until you stood in front of your apartment door and with shaky hands you unlocked the door and went inside, Heeseung trialing in.

He held his hands behind his back, looking over every inch of your studio apartment.

“I’m sorry it’s so small…” you whispered, closing the door behind you.

Heeseung turned to face you, his smile still on his face, “It’s not my place to judge what you do or do not have. Your space is perfect if you make it perfect.”

Right. You forgot he’s an angel. You kicked out of your shoes, reaching your hands up to unzip your jacket, noticing how quickly he turned around to look away from you.

You drop your hands to your sides, “Want anything to eat or drink?” you ask quickly walking to your kitchen, “I am not sure what angels eat?”

Heeseung chuckled, slowly turning to face you, “You don’t seem to be questioning what I am.”

You gave him a small smile as you pulled two water bottles from your fridge, “I always believed. Believed we humans had someone looking after us, whether that was a God or angels or anything else.”

Heeseung tilted his head, “What if I was anything else? You let me into your home so willingly.”

You swallowed, not even taking into conversation that the man in front of you could be the other type of angel. One that was meant to draw you in and kill you, “Are you going to hurt me?”

Heeseung took a few steps towards you, “I would never.”

You slowly nodded at him and handed him his water bottle, “I am YN, by the way.”

Heeseung gently took the water from you, his fingers brushing over yours, “Heeseung. Second hand to God.”

You widen your eyes, you weren’t just dealing with an angel, but you were dealing with God’s TOP angel.

Heeseung stared at you, “Something wrong, YN?”

You shook your head, “You’re just…beautiful.” you didn’t know where that came from or why you even spoke those words from your mouth.

His heart picked up its pace, and his ears started to burn red. He took steps away from you and finally took sips of his water.

Heeseung thought you were beautiful too, a little silly mortal, but beautiful nevertheless. His heart was pulling to you and he needed to leave soon and quickly.

He cleared his throat, “You wanted to thank me, but that’s not necessary. I was simply doing my job.”

You set your water down on the table, “You saved my life, I need to thank you somehow.”

Heeseung looked at your water bottle, watching how the droplet fell down the plastic and touched the wood of the table. He sat his bottle down beside yours, “Tell me your thanks then, I must return soon.”

You didn’t know what came over you or what you were even thinking. All you knew was you were now standing before Heeseung, looking up into his brown eyes.

Heeseung stared back down into your eyes, loving the way their color shined under the light of your kitchen. You stood on your tiptoes, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“YN,” he whispered, his hands now on your biceps, pulling your feet back flat to the floor, “I can’t accept that.”

“Just one,” you whisper back, once again standing on your tiptoes, becoming inches away from his face.

Heeseung’s lips parted, frozen in place as he watched you move closer. You brushed your nose against him, slowly closing your eyes as your lips touched together.

Heeseung kept still as you held your lips to his, his heart threatening to rip from his chest. But once you pulled away, he was pulling you back.

His hands moved from your biceps to your face, keeping you in place as he kissed you back. Lips moved together as if he’d never kissed someone before.

Heeseung had his fair share of kisses when he was mortal, but none of them felt like yours do. Tasting so sweet and addicting. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion he was giving you, roaming your hands from his shoulders to his neck, fingers tangling in the silver strands of his hair.

You don’t know if it was you or Heeseung who deepened the kiss, all concepts of time and the world around you were out the window at his touch. At the way his hands slid from your face to your hips. At how your body was pressed so close to his and how you were now pressed against the wall of your apartment.

It was just kissing. You two were just making out and nothing else. But you wanted more, so much more. Heeseung too, wanted more of you. He couldn’t get enough. He rocked his hips against yours, his growing hard cock rubbing you just in the right way that your lips released from his to softly moan.

Heeseung was off you within seconds of hearing that lewd, sweet sound come from your mouth.

He pressed his back against the door, palming the door in hopes of getting his hands to stop shaking as he pants to catch his breath.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I’m sorry.”

Heeseung glances up at you, his pupils blown out and filled with the want he has for you. You wanted to run to him, pull him back into you. But the moment his wings, his oh-so-beautiful wings, appeared from behind him, you knew your time with him was over.

“We can’t see each other again,” Heeseung quickly says, turning and reaching for the door handle.

“Why?!” you quickly asked, pushing yourself off the wall, “I want to see you again.”

Heeseung flung the door open and rushed to the railing, “I can’t sin. You’re too tempting.” You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed the railing, stretching his wings out. He glanced behind him, taking one last long look at you, feeling his heartbreaking, “Goodbye, silly mortal.”

And then he was gone. He shot into the sky so far and fast you didn’t have time to blink, “Goodbye, Heeseung.”

—

Heeseung kneeled at the altar, bringing his hands together, and doing his daily prayers and offerings. Pushing every thought of you out of his mind.

It’s been days since he left you. Days since he felt the warmth of your body against his. How your lips tasted and moved against his own. How you made his body feel. The things he wanted to do to you…the thoughts that ran through his head about you.

Heeseung squeezed his eyes, doing everything he could to shove the thought of you down and away. To forget about you and what had happened. He couldn’t have you no matter what. Angels and mortals can’t be together anyway. It was forbidden. Angels' jobs are to protect, provide guidance, to watch over, and ensure the safety of the mortals. To not intervene and only to do so when it’s necessary. Everything about you was against the rules. He couldn’t have relationships with you.

Heeseung stood from the altar, turning to see his brothers standing behind him, “My apologies,” he said to the six of them, “I took a bit longer this morning. Please take your turn.”

He stepped aside, watching as the youngest and newest angel in their ranks took to the alter first.

“What took you so long to return the other night, brother?” Niki, the youngest, asked as he placed his hands together and knelt, “We missed you at dinner.”

Heeseung placed his hands behind his back, “I was sent on a job. The family I helped offered me food as a thanks.”

Sunoo and Sunghoon knelt down beside Niki, copying the prayers.

Jay and Jake kept their eyes on Heeseung, their eyes telling Heeseung everything he needed to know: that they knew where he was that night.

Jungwon gave Heeseung a dimpled smile as he knelt beside the others, “It was very nice of them to return their thanks in dinner for you. Make sure to keep contact with them. It would be the right thing to do.”

Heeseung nodded at the younger, “Of course. Already plan to.”

He looked back at Jay and Jake, giving them a small nod and walking past them.

“We know,” was all Jay said in a whisper only he, Jake, and Heeseung could hear.

Heeseung stopped a few steps behind them, keeping his hands behind his back and head held high, “I know.”

“Only Jay and I,” Jake added, his Aussie accent coming out in a hushed tone, “You know the rules.”

“I know,” Heeseung said again, “I saved her life and she thanked me the way she felt fit.”

“That’s not what we are worried about though,” Jay sighed, keeping his eyes locked on the younger ones in front of him, folding his wings tightly to his back.

Heeseung knew the two of them were being nosey. That they peeked down onto the mortal lands and saw everything that happened.

“Will you tell on me?” Heeseung asked, keeping himself held high.

Jake chuckled, “Of course not,” he finally turned to look at Heeseung, staring at the back of his head, “You just have to promise to never see her again.”

Heeseung closed his eyes, “I know the rules. I appreciate you two looking after me, but I am the eldest angel, the most trusted, and I wouldn’t break that trust. Not to God, or you six.”

“We want you to promise,” Jay mumbled, “Say you promise.”

“I promise.”

Jay and Jake nodded, joining their brothers at the alter, leaving Heeseung standing alone. He walked out of the chapel and into the garden. He hated having to make that promise, but knowing it was necessary to make. Not just for his brother's peace of mind, but also his own.

The day went on like normal with his normal scheduled things. It was enough to distract him away from the conversation that morning with Jay and Jake. Enough to keep his mind off and away from you.

That was until night fell and he returned to his room with his back pressed to his shower wall, head leaned over, and letting the water slip down his head and face.

Heeseung reached his fingers up to his lips, rubbing the pads over them, remembering the way your lips felt pressed against him. He ran his hands from the back of his neck to his shoulders, touching every inch of his upper half that your hands touched.

Heeseung started to pant, his heart beating faster at the memories of you pressed against him. The moan that left your vulgar mouth. The pulsing pressure Heessung felt on his lower half was making him shake. He wrapped his hand around himself, slowly stroking up and back down. Biting his lips to keep any noise from coming out.

This wasn’t like Heeseung. This wasn’t his normal behavior. And if he got found out…it would be over for him. It would have been over for him a long time ago if he was caught with you that night. Or if he continued any further. The moment Heeseung would have touched you inappropriately, or slid himself inside you…

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his thumb circling the tip. His eyes were glued to how red and angry it looked, how badly he wanted to feel your hand in place of his.

He quickly let go of himself, turning the warm water from hot to cold, his body shivering from the new temperature and removing his thoughts about you.

Even after his shower and now lying in bed, his thoughts trailed to you and the small time he spent with you. His heart ached, begging to hear your voice one more time. He forced himself to sleep. Forced himself to wake up that next morning and go about his normal schedule. To go back to bed and repeat over and over.

Heeseung broke the minute he landed back in the city, sneaking out of heaven for the night and landing himself at your front door. His shaky hands banging on your door.

You jolted awake, angrily stomping your way to the front door, “What the fuck do you want it’s almost two in the morning!” you snapped pulling the door open to see Heeseung standing before you, his wings quickly pulled tightly to his back as he pushed himself inside, his hands immediately cupping your face and lips attaching to yours.

“Hee—Heeseung,” you said his name in between kisses, eventually pressing your hands to his chest and pushing him. Heeseung pulled back, looking at you with so much worry, “What are you doing here?” You asked.

Heeseung slid his hands from your face to your arms, thumbs rubbing at your skin, “Do you want me to go?”

“No!” you said a bit too hastily, fingers gripping at the fabric of his dark blue shirt, “I’ve missed you so much please don’t go.”

It was true, you missed him more than you wanted to admit and the weeks you spent away from him were torture. You barely knew him, knew next to nothing about him actually. But something about him pulled you in. The moment you felt his arms and wings wrap around you, your heart was his for the taking.

You did enough research after he left about why he couldn’t stay with you. Why he couldn’t be doing this with you. He’s breaking enough rules as it is to be here with you right now.

Heeseung kissed you again, letting his wings drop to the floor, “I’ve missed you so much,” he said between each kiss, “You’re so darn tempting.”

You giggled at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I thought you couldn’t sin,” you teased him.

Heeseung left your lips to kiss down your neck, “Kissing isn’t a sin. As long as I don’t touch you or have sex with you…” he brushed his lips back up to your jaw, “Just don’t tempt me to do anything but kiss you.”

You did as the angel told you. Doing nothing but letting him kiss you and keeping your hands to yourself even if it was killing you to not touch him. Heeseung kept his hands on your face, thumbs gently rubbing back and forth across your jawline, slowly walking you to your bed and laying you down. Heeseung climbed in over you, gently laying his body down on top of yours, wanting to be as close as legally possible for him to be.

He didn’t move, no matter how hard he got. He didn’t touch you anywhere but your arms and face, even if his hands were screaming to touch every inch of you. All he did was keep his lips connected to yours, kissing you so gently and softly until both of yours and his lips were swollen.

You fell asleep in his arms but awoke to an empty apartment but a handwritten letter was on your kitchen table, Heeseung telling you he would be back when he could.

And Heeseung kept true to his word. He always came back to you. He always held you close in his arms and kissed you gently. Heeseung fell hard in love with you. No amount of time spent with you was ever enough, not when he had to go back to Heaven before anyone noticed he was gone. Do his normal duties and schedule, wait a couple of days, then crash land back at your door.

Each time was harder than the last. You became his every thought and wish. And Heeseung was slowly starting to lose himself when it came to you. His immortal life started to become more mortal again being with you. Mostly with how much your existence was starting to tempt him more and more.

Heeseung was slowly starting to break the rules even more than he already was. Brushing his hands over your breasts slowly, tangling his fingers in your hair, rubbing his cock against your heat, and shoving his tongue down your throat. He would undress you, undress himself, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties and him in his boxers, trying so hard to keep his eyes on your face and not trace every inch of your almost bare body.

You were the devil that sat on his shoulder, breaking him away from who he really was. Never once in his life, before he died and after, was he ever faced with temptation like this.

You made it so hard for him to behave. Not when he’d hear your sweet moans fill his ears as you buck your hips against his to feel his length and run your hands down every inch of his body.

Heeseung nearly lost his mind when your hand wrapped around him for the first time, feeling how your fingers pumped him so slowly and oh so so good.

“Angels don’t act like this, darling,” Heeseung whispered in your ear as your hand squeezed him, “You’re such a devil to me.”

You kissed his neck, stroking his cock a bit faster, “I’m just a devil in disguise,” you teased him, knowing full well Heeseung was loving this banter.

“I love you,” he kissed your ear, rocking himself in your hand, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung had you stop before things got too out of control. Redressing himself and you before giving you a final kiss goodnight and leaving.

You always hated to watch him go. To watch as your angel flew away into the night and having to count down the days until you could see him again.

—

Heeseung stood before the altar, his six brothers surrounding behind him along with the other angels of heaven. He kept his hands pressed behind his back, “You called for me, my savior?”

God hummed, “We have a lot to discuss, my angel.”

Heeseung glanced around at his brothers, taking note of their facial expressions. Then looked at the other angels, they wore the same looks, just not as hurt as his brothers.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this was about. Heeseung knew. His luck ran out.

“What would you like to discuss?” Heeseung asked, giving a smile.

“About your wrongdoings.”

Heeseung’s smile faded, dropping his kind and happy act. He had to admit, he no longer was happy being here in heaven. Not when his heart was on mortal lands. Heaven was back on Earth. Not in these clouds. Not anymore.

“Are you wanting me to confess my sins, my lord?” Heeseung kept his head lifted, straightening up his posture.

“Yes,” God said with a sigh, “And why you betrayed me.”

Heeseung pulled his wings tighter to his back, squeezing his hands together, “I am in love with her.”

His six brothers closed their eyes tightly, tilting their heads down towards the white morale floor, hands in fists. The other angels gasped at the confession.

“State the rest of your sins, Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung lifted his head up higher, “I’ve touched her. Let her touch me. Slept beside her and held her in my arms. Rubbed my body against hers until she was moaning.”

The gasps of the other angels grew louder, their chattering voices echoing across the chapel.

“But you never slept with her, have you?”

Heeseung smirked, “No, I haven’t had sex with her. But I want to.”

More gasps filled the chapel. Jay now appearing at Heeseung’s side, his hand gripping his shoulder, “Stop talking man!”

Heeseung shook his brother off him, “Go and stand back where you were, Jay.”

“Jongseong,” God said quickly, “Please.”

Jay slowly walked back, standing close to Jake.

“What has she done to you? My angel? Why did you fall into her temptation when she’s a devil.”

Heeseung tensed his face and body. Wings pulled even tighter against him to keep them from shaking out of pure anger, “She’s a human being. Nothing even close to those damned demons.”

More gasps from the other angels.

“You will watch your mouth when speaking to me.”

Heeseung chuckled, looking down to the floor, “My apologies.”

Heeseung thinned his lips in a line. He was filled with so much conflict. This place wasn’t his home, not when you were down below waiting for him. Heeseung loved his time here, loved helping mortals who needed him, and loved his six brothers and even the jobs and duties he had here. Spending time with you did change him, making him want more out of his immortal life than to just exist. He wanted to live. He wanted to love. He wanted life with you.

Heeseung held his head high again, relaxing his body, “I confess to all my sins. My thoughts I’ve had of her, the things I want to do to and with her and I confess to betraying you and your trust, my savior.”

God sighed, silence filling the room. Heeseung knew what was next. His punishment.

“Jay, Jake, Sungoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki,” God called for them, “Stand by Heeseung.”

Heeseung watched his six brothers stand closer to him, seeing the looks on their faces as God spoke to them one one-on-one in their minds, telling them exactly what they needed to do.

Niki and Jungwon held his legs down, while Sunghoon and Sunoo stretched his arms out and held a death grip on them.

Heeseung’s body shook, pure fear covering his face when he felt Jay’s and Jake’s hands touch his wings, “No,” Heeseung whispered, fighting as much as he could to pull his wings back, “Not my wings.”

Jay gritted his teeth as he forced Heeseung’s left wing out, stretching it out to its full span. Jake did the same, biting down hard on his lip and breaking the skin.

“This is your punishment, Lee Heeseung,” God said with a stern voice, “You lose your place here. And I’m taking back your wings I granted you.”

Heeseung pushed and pulled at his brothers, doing anything he could to get them off him but their grips held hard.

“Heeseung, please,” Sunghoon begged as he gripped his wrist harder, “Stop.”

“Hyung please,” Sunoo begged.

But Heeseung kept fighting to break free.

“ENOUGH!”

Everyone stood still as the room shook with God’s shout. Sweat rolled down Heessung’s face, his eyes piercing through everyone surrounding him.

“Take his wings. Now.”

Heeseung smirked, “To hell with all this,” he whispered.

Jay and Jake looked at each other, their tears swelling up in their eyes as God whispered in their minds to take Heeseung’s wings. To rip them from his body.

They pulled and Heeseung shouted. His voice echoed off the walls as Jay and Jake pulled with their full strength. Sunghoon and Sunoo kept their grips on his wrists tight and same with Jungwon and Niki at his legs, holding on for dear life.

It was killing Jay to have to do this, to watch his own hands pull his older brother's wing right out of his body. He could only imagine the pain Heeseung was feeling. And Jake? He was in tears. He could feel inch by inch of Heeseung’s right wing stripping from his back. He could already see the blood spilling onto his white robes and onto the floor. Seeing Heeseung fling his head back and forth in a rage as his voice bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the whole chapel. The pained faces his other six brothers had at having to witness this.

Jake wished he could turn back time, wished he could have stopped Heeseung from sneaking out. Stopped the angel who caught Heeseung dropping down to the mortal lands and kept him from getting nosey and running his mouth to God. But it was all too late. Heeseung would get his wings stripped from him and pushed down to the Earth to fall. All Jake could do now was pray he survived long enough to make it to you.

Heeseung clenched his jaw as the last bit of his wings was stripped from his body, his back spilling blood and muscles aching from the loss of where his wings once were. His beautiful white feathered wings lost all their life and slumped in Jay’s and Jake’s hands, blood dripping down them.

His brothers stepped away from him, watching as Heeseung fell to the floor, too dizzy from the blood loss.

“You will now fall,” God sighed, “You will be stripped of your immortality and fall to Earth. You will crawl to your lover and show her where her sins got you.”

Heeseung weakly smirked, eyes closing, “Gladly.”

Heeseung didn’t know who picked him up by his arms and dragged him out of the chapel, he just knew it wasn’t any of his brothers. The grip the other two angles had on him was proof enough that it wasn’t any of the ones he loved.

The six of them stood in the chapel still, eyes locked on Heeseung's wingless back, watching the blood pool from the wounds and stain his white robes and the marble floor.

They watched helplessly as Heeseung was pushed off the edge.

—

You heard a faint knocking on your door. At first, you thought you might have gone crazy and heard things. But once the knocking kept happening and then you heard something fall, you quickly rushed to the door, opening it to find Heeseung still in his white-stained robes. His back was pressed against the railing and his skin was pale.

“Heeseung, oh my god!” you dropped down to his side, cupping your hands to his face, “What happened?!”

Heeseung was barely able to hold his eyes open, “My wings…they stripped my wings from me.”

You bit at the skin on your cheek, quickly standing back to your feet and pulling him up with all the strength you had, pulling his arm over your shoulders and gripping your arm around his waist, pulling him inside your apartment.

Heeseung barely made it a couple of steps in before falling to his knees, you losing your grip on him and your eyes finally landing on the holes in his robes and the blood that still continued to push out.

“Heeseung,” you fell back to his side, “You need to get to a hospital.”

“And tell them what?” he breathed out, fingers gripping the carpet as he pants, “That I am a fallen angel who got their wings forcefully torn from his body?”

Heeseung wasn’t trying to be snappy or rude, truly. The pain was just so immense he couldn’t control anything.

You sat back on your heels, watching the love of your life suffer. This was your fault. It was all your fault. You’re the one who asked him to come home with you that fateful day. You’re the one who kissed him. Who tempted him. You pulled him in and touched him. You did this to him.

Heeseung could practically hear your brain turning over and over. He pushed himself to his side, reaching his hand up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him, “This is not your fault, you hear me? Not even close.”

The tears swelled in your eyes now, falling into his touch as he cupped his hand to your cheek, “Heeseung…”

“Baby,” he whispered, “I need you to do as I say, okay? My immortality hasn’t been taken from me yet, I will heal a bit fast but I need my wounds covered and taken care of, can you do that for me?”

You nodded, placing a kiss on his palm. Heeseung told you exactly what you needed to do. Starting with tearing his robes off his body and ripping it into a big enough strand to be wrapped around him. Then using any medical alcohol you had in the apartment and pour it onto his wounds and hold a towel to them. It killed you having to press the towels to his wounds, feeling the massive hole where his beautiful wings once were…the pain Heeseung must be feeling…

But you took care of him. Doctoring his wounds to the best of your ability and doing as he instructed you. You wrapped the pieces of what was left of his robe around his chest and back, tying it as tightly as you could.

You helped him to your bed, steadying him up as he sat down. Heeseung wasn’t as pale as earlier, but you could still see the pained expression.

“Hey,” He whispered, cupping your face, “Stop thinking whatever it is.”

You looked away from him, “I caused this. I tempted you.”

Heeseung shook his head, “Baby, look at me,” you looked up at him, “I did this of my own free will,” he slid his hands from your face and down to your waist, “I knew the consequences, and did it anyway,” he squeezed your waist, “I love you. I gave up heaven for you.”

You wanted to fight him, to yell in his face about giving up eternity for you. But you also couldn’t help but feel so loved at this moment. That this angel found love with you and was willing to give up everything for you.

Heeseung kissed you, pulling you between his legs, and deepening the kiss.

“Heeseung,” you said, pulling away from him, “You’re injured, you need to rest.”

“No,” he shook his head, pulling you down into the bed and towering over you, “I’ve waited,” he said, his eyes growing lustful and his fingers tearing into your shirt and ripping it in half, pulling it off your body, “so damn long,” sliding his hands down to your shorts, looping his fingers in and pulling them down, taking your panties down with, “to have you like this.”

Heeseung kicked your legs apart with his knees, leaning up straight to unbutton and unzip his black slacks, wiggling them off his body, leaving him in his boxers. You pulled yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth to protest that this could wait. But Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. He connected his lips back to yours, his hands cupping your breasts and loving the way you moaned into his mouth.

“Oh hell baby,” he said between kisses, “I love how these feel between my fingers.”

You kept your lips attached to his as if your life depended on it, bucking your hips up onto his.

Heeseung trailed his lips down to your neck, squeezing your breasts then sliding them behind to unhook your bra, sending the fabric off somewhere in the apartment.

Heeseung lifted himself back up, tearing down at your bare body. So perfect. So beautiful. So his.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, connecting his forehead to yours, tracing his fingertips down your body and stopping at your cunt, slowly pushing his fingers in, “So wet,” he groaned, rubbing his hard cock against your thigh, “Hmm I can’t wait to feel your cunt wrapped around me.”

You giggled at him, “Angels don’t say such dirty things,” you teased.

“Yeah?” he smirked, plunging his fingers in and out faster, “Angels don’t finger this good, do they?”

You squirm underneath him, rolling your hips in sync with his fingers. Pushing your head back into your pillows and aches your back.

You gasped out at the loss of his fingers, watching as he pulled the remainder of his clothing off him. His hard cock was red and angry. Precum dripping from his tip.

Heeseung gripped both your thighs, pushing them to your chest, “Angels don’t do what I am fixing to do to you,” he smirked, lining his cock up to your entrance. With a deep breath, he pushed himself inside you. Heeseung’s moans fill the apartment along with your own.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into the skin. He pulled his hips back and pushed forward. Picking up his pace and pounding into you like a madman. His pupils were blown out and his breaths were unsteady. This. This was what he gave up heaven for. To feel your cunt wrapped around his cock. This was the real heaven.

“See, darling,” he groans, throwing his head back, “Angels don’t fuc-fuck this good,” he looked back down at you, loving your fucked out expression and how your hands gripped your bedsheets. Mouth slack as sweet moans spill from your lips. It turned you on so bad hearing Heeseung talk this way. To feel him so balls deep in your pussy, “Thank god I am not an angel, huh?”

Heeseung was the definition of looks like an angel but fucks like a demon. With the way he pistoned into you, the grip on your thighs, the dirty words leaving his mouth that you’ve never heard him say before tonight…Heeseung was never meant to stay an angel.

You continued to moan out with each of his hard thrusts, your core growing tight and threatening to snap at any moment, “Fuck you feel so good,” he breathes, “Moan my name baby,” he snaked his fingers to your clit, rubbing it aggressively, “Cum around my cock, I know you want to.”

You bit your lip, arching your back more at his touch, jaw going slack as you chanted his name. Chanting his name as if he were god and you were his follower. Your core snapping, your orgasm releasing around him and onto your bedsheets, “Fuck yes, baby,” he smiles, pumping himself even faster inside you, “Can’t believe I’ve waited this long to fuck you. Should have done it the night we met. Should have fucked this cunt, should have ruined you. Claimed you as mine from the beginning. Oh fuck—“

Heeseung’s body shuddered, cock twitching, “I’m fixing to cum baby,” he bit his lip, looking down and watching how his cock slides in and out, in and out, “Oh dear god, I’m cumming. Oh fuck I’m cumming.”

He kept his eyes locked on your pussy as he came, watching how his seed leaked from your hole as he continued to pump inside of you, milking his cock between your walls.

Heeseung fell on top of your body, his head resting on your chest as he steadied himself and caught his breath, wrapping his arms underneath you.

Heeseung spent his whole life being good and doing good. Never once being selfish or doing any selfish acts. Until you. You pulled this high-ranking angel down to his knees. Making him for once, want to be selfish. To do something for himself. To live freely and be free. To love and fuck you with every ounce of his being.

He was so in love with you and you were so worth getting his wings taken away from him. It's so worth his immortality being stripped.

Heeseung looked up at you, “Want to know a secret?” You tilted your head at him, waiting for him to continue, “I knew it would happen eventually. I wasn’t truly happy up there. My brothers and God knew it too. It was a matter of time before I fucked up and got caught,” he leaned himself up on his elbows, “I wanted it to happen. Because I wanted to be with you so bad. I knew they’d strip my wings. Take my immortality. Yeah, I enjoyed my wings and being immortal, but I wanted you so much more than that.”

You cupped his face, “My fallen angel,”

He placed a kiss on your lips, “I love you, YN.” Heeseung wrapped your legs around his waist, slowly moving again, “And I so love fucking this pussy.”

You giggled, bracing your hands onto his biceps, “I love you too, even if you gave everything up for me.”

Heeseung rested his forehead on yours, slowly fucking into you, “And I’d do it over and over again, all for you.”

—perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee

#yeonzzzn asks #— 🐇💨 anon #heeseunggie #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #reader x heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing

576 notes · View notes