#in fact I may have already posted something to this effect. I couldn’t find it tho so I’m posting again

[bdoubleowo]

Forever haunted by the fact that in Hermigang Welsknight says “you’re guilty of getting murdered with words”

Murder victims tend. not to be considered the guilty party in that. exchange.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hiya, I love your yandere archons and a someone else request got an idea brewing in my head. You said the reader can’t be powerful or more because it would make them like the traveler… But what if the reader isn’t even a human? Like a primordial deity/being or something like lovecraft? An eldritch being? Basically a darling who can’t be physically chained or overpowered? How can they charm/persuade the darling? Like trying to seduce Azothoth!like darling, like those scheming yandere they are? Like you know those court drama where the consorts fight for the emperor? Ya know poison, blackmail, etc? That’s the archons for the darling. Is this too complicated? Anyway keep up the good work.

ah this was such an interesting ask! it definitely let me bring out some more obscure head canons of mine so thank you so much! :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behavior, mentions of animal slaughter, uh not much this is actually a pretty tame post, archons are actually kinda nice for once, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would hound you constantly, showing up wherever you seem to be staying to constantly chat you up. At first he starts just straight up begging but slowly it devolves into just chatting, slowly making you fall in love with him as he learns more about you and you him.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you saw the familiar green bard bounding over to you, a bottle of wine in his hands and a basket of some human food you had mentioned enjoying. He made sure to always bring something to share with you while you talked, just a little something to keep the conversation going for longer. The bottle of wine was usually for Venti but if you showed interest he wouldn’t mind sharing. Slowly, as he visits you day after day, you find yourself enjoying the presence of the boisterous male. He may have fallen first, but you fell harder.

Yandere!Zhongli would use his history of Liyue to woo you, thrilling I know. This somehow seems to work in his favor though as he can invite you on walks with him and then spend the whole time telling you about the history of the area and all the fun little details. It may seem boring, but somehow the century old dragon seems to make it fun, his passion for history rubbing off on you just a little bit.

You listened intently as Zhongli told you random, generally useless facts about the spot you currently stood at. While you will admit that he had bored you at first, you had come to love his strange little information tidbits. The passion he had for history was admirable and the joyful effect it seemed to have on him rubbed off on you the more he told you. It had started with a simple proposition: join him for a walk and if he told you something you didn’t know, that he could prove was true, then you’d join him for another. If you did know it already, then he would leave you alone. What he didn’t tell you though was that he had no plans of leaving you alone, setting up something that was entirely untrue just to win the little deal. It’s the only time he’s ever lied to you.

Yandere!Raiden would act similarly to male birds, where she flaunts what she’s capable of to entice you to choose her. Though she doesn’t do a silly dance with pretty feathers, instead she showcases her power. She flaunts her capabilities as a partner and uses that to entice you.

While your power as an eldritch being was scaled differently from Raiden, it didn’t mean she couldn’t still showcase her strength to you. Showing you the skeleton of the giant serpent she had slain was only so impressive so instead she challenges you. Bring her anything and she’ll kill it. From wild boar to giant whales, everything you had brought to Raiden she made quick work of. She even offered to dive into the waters and hunt down something herself but you insisted it wasn’t necessary. She had proven herself plenty, you were simply giving her a hard time to see how far she’d go. It almost made you feel bad, killing the insignificant wildlife simply for a bit of a show, but Raiden always made sure the animal went to good use. That was something you liked about her, even if she was busy showing off and flaunting to you, she still made sure that nothing was wasted. 

Yandere!Furina would have nothing to offer but herself. She isn’t incredibly funny, she’s not super strong, she can’t tell you cool facts about her nation or even spend all day talking to you. All she can give you is late nights under the stars, laying there as she points out all the constellations to you. In her early years as the Hydro Archon she would often spend her time stargazing, finding the action perfect to unwind when she was stressed.

Every night, after finishing up with court proceedings for the day, Furina would meet you at the same spot. She’d lay out a blanket, whether you lay on it with her or not, and stare up at the sky. Sometimes she’s silent, just enjoying your presence as a calming figure in her life, and sometimes she’ll point out the constellations to you. Furina thinks you’re absolutely darling but you’re way above her league and she doesn’t have anything that she can use to attract you to her. So she settles for these quiet nights with you, gazing at the stars as she used to in her youth. On nights where she does tell you about the constellations, she tells you how to find it, where the name comes from, and if it applies, the story behind each one. Her favorites are Cassiopeia and Cetus.

[uriekukistan]

choso and/or megumi? :)

im so. i just spent so long typing this out only for the page to crash and delete everything i said. why does tumblr HATE ME anyway thank you for the ask i’ll try to remember everything i said the first time 😭

choso!!

favorite thing about them: his relationship with itadori is so cute! such a good brother! his facial expressions are so cute and silly! literally found out itadori was his brother and went “okay i’ll die for u now”

least favorite thing about them: the fact that they robbed him of his sick shoes in the anime. maybe something else will come up in the future but for now that’s it

favorite line: i got two! *in a life or death situation* can u just call me onii chan like once please please please please (paraphrasing), *facing kenjaku after finding out that they’re his dad and yuuji’s mom* “hey little bros look at this im gonna kill our parent

brOTP: gotta go w yuuji since they are in fact bros. his relationship w mahito is so silly to me tho, and i’d love to see him interact with todo!

OTP: i dont really have one. rn i think he’s too focused on his brothers to think abt that

nOTP: its not a no for me per se just that i think choso and yuki are very one sided. yuki clearly likes him but he’s too focused on yuuji rn

random headcanon: i can see him having a long skincare routine with a fluffy hairband

unpopular opinion: i think he is frequently mischaracterized in the name of fitting ppl’s sexual fantasies about him. ofc im all for having fun but i noticed it does impact broader perceptions of his character sometimes. could say this about any jjk man tho.

song i associate with them: mmmm maybe sunflower by post malone, don’t have a reason for it buy yea

favorite picture of them: have two

MEGUMIIIII

favorite thing about them: he is me i am him we are the same. realistic depiction of what it is like to be abandoned by your parental figure and then be told you’re “special” for some reason and now too much is expected of you but you never wanted this in the first place. i could raise him so well let me adopt him. I Will Take Care Of Him.

least favorite thing about them: can’t. that’s my son.

favorite line: soooo many but i think about “so start by saving me itadori” DAILY. hourly even.

brOTP: love his relationship with kugisaki. would love to see him with yuuta more for purely self indulgent reasons that are not related to my dancers au….

OTP: obviously gotta go with ITAFUSHI i could talk abt them for hours. a brain virus fr they’re everything to me.

nOTP: 🧑‍💻 megumi & sukuna, megumi & toji, megumi & gojo, megumi & mai, etc. i try not to yuck other ppls yum but uh. i couldn’t even decide which of these was worst.

random headcanon: uhhh this ones a sad one, but i think before gojo came along, he and his sister were starving (compared to other characters shown as kids he looks much bonier), so even into adulthood, he has a hard time gaining weight from the effects of childhood malnutrition and as a result, is a bit less physically strong than he could potentially be (still very strong tho)

unpopular opinion: you already know what im gonna say. most overhated character in jjk. yall need to get off his back before i get violent im so serious rn everything he does is a perfectly valid reaction to the trauma he’s been through since he was literally a toddler

song i associate with them: i got so many…recently been thinking of dreams of losing teeth by suave punk & moon i already know by mount eerie the most

favorite picture of them: soo many…unhinged megumi vs pocket sized gumi i cant pick

[stwritings]

Funny Seeing You Here

Synopsis

Long time in-patient y/n was looking forward to her upcoming discharge date from the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. That is, until she became acquainted with an unlikely familiar face, Eddie Munson.

Author’s Note

This is a fix it fic following Stranger Things season 4, volume 2. In this fic, we’re going to forget the fact that the Duffer Brothers decided to delete Eddie from the series. :-) These events take place after the battle in the upside down. I’m also choosing to change the ending of season 4 by having the issue with the upside down resolved, therefore, Hawkins is not plagued by the massive earthquake that resulted in new portals being opened.

What To Expect

Slow burn, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut in later chapters. ♡

Series Warnings

Mentions of mental health struggles, SMUT (in the later chapters, 18+ to read this story), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence.

Chapter 3

The next day started off like any other, y/n was getting ready to embark on her daily walk following lunch when she was stopped by one of the nurses on her unit, Margot. Y/n wouldn’t go as far as saying she disliked Margot, but she certainly wasn’t fond of the way she spoke to her sometimes. Margot was an older woman who had recently been transferred to this hospital from her old position in a nearby town. She meant well on most days, but came off abrupt at times and wasn’t a fan of rule breaking or inconsistencies in the daily operations.

“Sorry dear, no more walks until further notice.” She said, dryly from her desk.

Y/n paused, she wasn’t one to challenge authority, but she couldn’t help but question this sudden wrench that was thrown into her plan.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked.

Margot’s eye shot up from her desk “There will be no more unsupervised dilly-dallying around the hospital. There is a safety risk in effect, and I have no interest in filling out more paperwork than I’ve already got on my hands. Now please, I’m sure you can find something else to do to keep you busy.”

Y/n frowned, ‘safety hazard?’ she thought. ‘Were they referring to Eddie?’

Not wanting to further upset Margot, she redirected her path to the common room within her unit and took a seat on a sofa.

‘Okay… Now I really need to figure out what’s going on…’

-

Over the next few days, y/n was able to gather more information on what had presumably happened to Eddie. Most of the information was from the staff gossiping, which, if she was honest with herself, probably wasn’t the most reliable source. But regardless, it was information, and it brought her one step closer to figuring out what had happened: Suspected killer Eddie Munson had finally been apprehended and was in serious but stable condition. No one knew how he had sustained such injuries, but from what she had heard, he had gone through extensive surgeries and was in a medically induced coma.

It had been quite some time now since y/n had been allowed to leave her unit, but she could see from her bedroom window the commotion that was constantly occurring outside. She had never seen so many reporter vans and police cars crammed into one space, and she could only imagine the chaos unfolding on the lower levels of the hospital. The media was in a frenzy, clinging onto any new details they could get their greedy hands on.

Y/n hated the mob mentality that came with news reporting. She especially hated The Hawkins Post and how low they would stoop to fulfill their daily quota for what they considered ‘news’.  

Despite the reporters not giving up, camping out everyday, the public slowly started to lose interest over time due to the lack of pertinent new information. Y/n was hearing less and less people talking about it and soon, she had accepted the fact that she may very well never know the full story. At least not while she was stuck in her unit.

God, she hated feeling trapped. She hadn’t realized up until this point just how much she cherished her daily strolls. It wasn’t just the freedom of roaming that brought her joy, but also the warm feeling she would get in her heart whenever she would walk past a new face and exchange smiles. Y/n was a fairly outgoing person and really enjoyed human interaction. This was a characteristic most of the patients in her unit did not share, which made for her time there quite lonesome. Sure, she got along with the staff, but she didn’t want to take up too much of their time. They were on the clock after all…

The unit’s scheduled daily activities kept her busy, but they felt more like homework than pastimes. The feeling of restlessness was starting to overcome her, and she knew she had to do something about it. Perhaps she could pick up a new hobby? That was easier said than done. The hospital was quite strict on what they allowed patients to bring in with them, limiting everyone to essential items only. At this point she had read most of the books provided by her unit and visiting hours had been put on hold due to the current events unfolding.

‘How do they expect us to live like this’ She thought to herself.

Suddenly, it clicked. ‘Maybe if I talk to Wayne, I can convince him to accompany me on my walks’

It was worth a shot, wasn’t it? The worse he would say was no, but she felt that she had a good chance at winning him over.

She hopped out of bed making her way towards the hallway, but before she could execute her plan, an announcement could be heard overhead. “Lights out”.

‘Huh…’ time had escaped her, and she hadn’t realized how late it was.

She reluctantly got back into bed after turning off the light in her room; her plan will have to wait until morning.

_

Chapter 4

Author's Note: This chapter was annoying as hell to write for some reason and I really struggled getting my ideas to form into one coherent thought, I'm sorry if it's a little choppy!!

Let me know what you think & if you’re interested in being on my tag list ♡

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

[thefanficmonster]

Bloody Jealousy

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Jealousy, Minor SPOILERS for RE8:Village

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Humor

Summary: Y/N’s friendship with a maid working in the Dimitrescu castle poses a bit of a bother to their partner Alcina. Enough to cause a raging jealousy to spark within the already dangerous woman.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request and I’m so terribly sorry you’ve had to wait so long for the fic to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy it if you happen to come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

To be perfectly fair to both sides in the story, neither Alcina nor Y/N are at fault here. It’s a simple case of overprotectiveness and paranoia that have clashed with unconditional kindness and friendliness and neither are to blame for what they are doing or have already done.

Y/N is simply a person with a big heart that has room for literally everyone they meet. They have always been friendly and kind, understanding and willing to give everyone a second, third or even fourth chance. They’ve never had a shortage of friends. Or at least that is until they moved to Romania and didn’t get the chance to meet anyone before falling for Alcina. Afterwards, due to their relations to Alcina which apparently the whole village knew about, they couldn’t even approach anyone without the villagers running away from them, begging to be left alone. Such a reaction to their presence left them unwilling to ever leave the castle and often times put them down. Eventually, all they saw were the walls of the castle and the Dimitrescu family. That is, however, until one day, a new group of maids were admitted to work in the castle. That, in Y/N’s eyes was an opportunity they hadn’t had in the longest time.  Although the majority of the maids tried to keep their distance from the residents as much as they could, on in particular didn’t seem too afraid to interact with them - though the sisters scared her quite a bit with their behavior. Y/N, on the other hand, was quick to gain her favor, letting her know they meant no harm and only wanted to be friends with her. The maid, Esme, though reluctant at first, soon warmed up to the newest resident of the castle, happy to finally have someone to talk to who wouldn’t mention the theories of how the owners would kill them or torture them. 

“I can assure you,“ Y/N told Esme, “Alcina nor the girls would never do such a thing.“

Oh just how Alcina would, not to mention how cruel she’d be when fueled by jealousy as she was when she started noticing her partner growing close to this maid in question.

Alcina, up until meeting Y/N, had always put her love life in the last of the elements on her list of necessities. In fact, she had been on her own for so long she feared how she’d change if a person entered her life to fill the void of a romantic partner. Truth be told, she was more afraid that she wouldn’t change and that her ways would end up pushing that person away. That is exactly why she was so relieved how easily she morphed into a literal new person when she met Y/N. The change was automatic, not that she was even trying to implement it in her life. She automatically wanted to be a better person for Y/N and so she became one.  However, with the beauty of love come a few unwanted side-effects such as jealousy. She’d never felt it before, at least not like this. Sure she envied some of the Lords for some specific things every now and then but nothing she ever dwelled on for too long. This was a whole new experience with jealousy which was also degrading to her, not only cause she thought she was above that to be jealous of someone, but also because she was jealous of a maid, a servant. That fact was all to bogus to her and ridiculous to the point of disbelief. To save herself the troubles, she decided to start off the wine making season a little early - and with Esme of all the maids.

Unfortunately, she could never find the right moment since Y/N was always by the girl’s side, not allowing Alcina the opportunity to take her to the basement - or the wine cellar, as she called it - to execute her plan.

“Alcina, dear?“ Y/N inquired one day soon after Alcina made her decision, “I’ve noticed you’ve been sending the dirtiest looks poor Esme’s way. May I know why that is?“

Alcina huffed unpleasantly, “You call that servant ‘poor?’ Believe me, Y/N, she knows exactly what she’s doing and I won’t allow it.”

Y/N furrowed their brows, “And what is it she’s doing that I haven’t noticed? I mean, if someone were to notice her plotting something, it would be me after all.”

“Oh of course.“ Alcina scoffed, “Of course it’d be you since the two of you appear to be joined at the hip as of late.“

Y/N’s eyes widened ever so slightly as their eyebrows shot up in confusion and surprise, “Excuse me? What’s that tone?” Their lips curve into a smirk, “Could it be jealousy, Lady Dimitrescu?”

The accused woman scoffs, “Nonsense. As if I have anything to be jealous of. That filthy little rat? Complete absurd nonsense.”

Resting their head on their girlfriend’s shoulder, Y/N can’t help but giggle, “Oh Alci, nonsense it is.” They say, turning their head to press a kiss to her shoulder, “Nothing to be jealous about, babe. I’m yours, all yours and only yours. So you never need to worry.”

When Alcina turned her head to look at Y/N, they lifted their head and straightened their posture to make proper eye contact with her. The look in her eyes was asking the unspoken question: “Really?” - the gaze she was looking at them with begging for the answer she was hoping for.

They nodded, “Forever and always, Alcina.” Their hands came up to cup the woman’s face (who, by the way, was sitting to be at eye level with Y/N), “I promise.” They planted a kiss on her forehead as if to seal the promise.

And that was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth spoken straight from Y/N’s heart which was flooded by their love for Alcina. 

[guaxinimraccoon]

jesus christ why-

oh mY DEAR GOD-

FIRST OF ALL I'm SO sorry for taking so damn long to answer those, I've been really really busy and I'm very sorry, I'm doing my best to answer everybody ; o ;

BUT FINALLY let's talk about our big last Euphoria reveal (about four months ago but ok-), where I showed you guys that Alex is Brad's father and Elisa is Toby's mom.

"BUT GUAX WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? HOW?? WHEN??? WHERE??"

SHUSH , CALM YOUR TITS DOWN and let me explain:

Ok, so I'll be putting some links here and there because yes, Alex and Elisa's story is very, VERY connected to Brad and Toby's. 

And get ready for a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long post. You were warned.

As you all already know, Alex and Elisa had a troublesome meeting, but eventually got closer to each other, they fell in love yadda yadda yadda BUT their will to get closer to each other, in other words, their relationship brought HUGE consequences.

Yes, they did manage to build a healthy relationship, they were happy, they were fine.

But they were also adults, adults that wanted something serious and concrete, they couldn't spend the rest of their lives as forbbiden lovers.

So Elisa did something literally illegal. She did a potion that was forbidden by the Colony authorities - a shrunken potion - to get closer to Alex.

Those potions were never developed, they're rustic and really antique, so they could do more harm than good or not work at all.

But Alex didn't care, he took the risk and drank the potion to get closer to his girl, the woman that was the love of his life.

The effect of the potion is temporary, so Alex would drink them from time to time whenever he had the opportunity to visit the Colony, spend some time with Elisa and, of course, be a part of her life.

He wasn't just trying to "be like her", he was also trying to be a part of her home. He made friends with her friends, he met her family, he met new imps, new fairies, all of it under his "imp disguise". He even fought for the Colony at it's war times (that is lasting till the current story time). He EVEN presented himself with a more “impish name” - Turk - to make sure people wouldn’t suspect anything.

Of course, people eventually started to ask why didn’t he live in the Colony with Elisa, why did he only showed up from time to time. Alex and Elisa lied, obviously, they told everyone that Alex belonged to a secluded imp tribe that lived walking around the forest as nomads, which made sense since those types of imp communities do exist.

ANYWAY THE POINT IS Alex grew affectioned of those people and with their lifestyle. He started to feel like he was one of them. 

And, of course, he was now closer than he ever was to Elisa.

Since they were different species, they never worried about having kids. I’ve never said this before but Alex is a doctor, he knows about this stuff, so he always made sure to reassure Elisa that "they were their own condon" and, as sad as it may sound, they couldn't have kids.

... Or so Alex thought.

You know how tigers and lions can have offspring together? Yeah, it's the same thing.

It's very hard to happen, but they spent YEARS together if you know what I mean so yeah

That's how Alex and Elisa gave birth to their first child: Tobias, the only one of a specie that is a mix between human and imp.

His parents were really worried at first, afterall, they new NOTHING about Toby's condition. They didn't know if he was going to grow as large as a human or if he'd assume imp proportions forever. After some research with his son's blood, Alex found out that Toby was indeed half human and half imp, but he was predominantly physically an imp. That means his biological features are, mostly, imp like: he'd hardly grow as large as a human through his life's course and could live as a normal imp in the Colony. The fact that he showed talent for magic (once he was old enough to do so) and was able to do it just like any other imp in the Colony also made things easier.

Elisa and Alex chose to raise Toby in the Colony, they believed it’d be healthier and safer for him (especially after some events that I’ll be talking about in other posts), although it hurt Alex to pretend that he was an imp to his son and that he couldn’t see him everyday. 

Even if they couldn’t see each other everyday, Alex and Toby were very close. Toby loved his daddy very much and was very attached to him.

After five years after Toby was born, Elisa got pregnant again and gave birth to their second child: Bernardo (that’d eventually be nicknamed as “Brad”), one of the two only beings of the specie Alex and Elisa accidently created together.

For preucation, Alex took a bit of Brad’s blood and made some research, just like he did to Toby.

And what he found out wasn’t exactly... relieving.

Brad, just like Toby, was half human and half imp, but he had expressed mostly human features in his physical body. He was as small as a baby imp now, but it was a matter of time until he started to grow very VERY large.

Unlike Toby, Brad couldn’t live as an imp in the Colony and things got very complicated for them.

Alex wanted to leave. He told Elisa the Colony’s community would NEVER accept their youngest, they would never accept Alex and probably wouldn’t accept Toby either. They had to leave that place before they couldn’t hide the truth anymore, even if it cost revealing Toby, a five year old child, that most of his life was a lie.

But Elisa was hesitant. She didn’t want to leave her home, her parents, her friends. She knew Alex was right, they couldn’t stand that play for too long, but how to leave everything she had built behind? How to leave everything she knew as home behind? It wasn’t that easy.

Until something very bad happened.

Remember I said Alex made a few friends in the Colony? So, one of them was Stefan, a experienced fairy soldier that had known Elisa for as long as she was alive. He was pretty much her best friend (even if he was old enough to be her father) and now he was also great friends with Alex.

Stefan is important here. He has a very tragic backstory involving humans. He lost pretty much everything to them: his whole family and his wings, something that meant more than just flying to him.

So, as expected, he hates humans and truly believes that they are nothing more than monsters that try to manipulate you and to get advantage from imp’s and fairy’s magic. 

After some years, he started to get very suspicious over Alex. Some things weren’t making any sense anymore and that “nomad imp community” was starting to sound way more like an excuse than the actual truth. He simply didn’t understand what was stopping him to live with Elisa and his sons for once.

So he did some investigation. One day, he followed Alex (that he knew as Turk) out of the Colony, in one of the days he had only come to visit his family. Alex had said earlier that he had to “go back to his own society”. Yeah, right. Stefan was hiding the whole time and followed Alex till a good distane from the Colony’s limits. 

And he didn’t get exaclty happy to see his best friend growing impossibly huge out of nowhere.

Stefan now knew the truth: Alex was pretending to be an imp using shrinking potions. He didn’t belong to any nomad imp group, he was a human that lived in his own house and was coming to the Colony to play family with them.

Of course, he didn’t only felt betrayed, but pissed as fuck. Stefan didn’t waste any time: as soon as Alex came back to the Colony he confronted him. Alex tried to explain himself, but they only argued and ended up having a pretty bad fight.

In anger, Stefan didn’t want to hear no more explanations, so he told some of the Colony’s high authorities about Alex’s lies and that they had to do something about it. 

The Colony’s Council decided to call Elisa and solve things between imps and fairies only. But they showed her no mercy.

They basically gave her two options: or she’d prove her loyalty to the Colony and would kill her husband and her human son, or the Colony would sentence all of them to death penalty, including Toby and Brad, children that they claimed should have never been born. 

Elisa was in shatters. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t kill the man she loved and her baby child, she just couldn’t. She was about to accept the second option, rathering die with her family than killing them, but Stefan decided to help her out.

He wasn’t expecting the Council to be so cruel and he started to regret his decisions the moment he saw how Elisa was worried about her family and how much she loved them, even if they were human. He hated Alex and Brad, but seeing Elisa in excruciating pain over them was impossible for him, so he made up a plan with her to save everybody.

It cost Elisa to trust Stefan, he had told their secrets to the worst people possible, but she had no option aside from accepting his help and following his plan.

The plan was simple: Elisa would tell the Council she’d kill Alex and Brad and would tell Alex that she had changed her mind and that they should leave the Colony as soon as possible now that Stefan knew the truth.

Alex believed her and, after Stefan’s confirmation, so the Council did. The next step was to take Alex and Brad to the Colony’s limits, pretending they were about to leave. 

Then it happened.

Elisa made, with Stefan’s help, a huge barrier on the Colony’s frontier that didn’t allowed humans to cross it. It was basically a security method that they never thought it’d be necessary.

But now it was and it wasn’t meant to protect the ones inside the Colony...

Of course, Alex didn’t understand SHIT.

He spent MONTHS returning to the Colony in his shrinking form, trying to find a way to cross the barrier and to get Toby back. 

Or to talk to Elisa.

Or to understand.

Or anything.

He just wanted his family.

Eventually, his potions ended and he was left to raise Brad on his own and to never see his wife and oldest son again.

Since then, he hates Elisa. Or at least thinks he does. He’s just deeply mad at her, he doesn’t understand why she left them. 

He did everything for her. Denyed his own race, submitted himself to the dangerous effects of a extremely nocive potion which he faces the consequences till this day, did his fucking best to be the best father and husband his family could have-

All this love, all this effort, all this sweat and blood

Wasted.

It took years for him to fully recover. Aside from the health problems the abusive use of the shrinking potions brought, he also became alcohoolic. Because he wasn’t mentally estable enough, neither to take care of himself and of his very very small son, he went to live in his parents house. His family knew about Elisa and the children they had together, his folks actually liked her a lot so it saddened them as well that she simply abandoned Alex and Brad and that they would never see Toby again.

His family didn’t had to worry about Brad’s very little size for too long though, before he was one year old he had already reached his human size.

Anyway, Alex’s family gave him a huge help until he was healthy enough to take care of Brad, the only one left from the family he built.

Back to Elisa, she didn’t told Alex her plan because she KNEW he wouldn’t want to do it. She simply knew Alex would be too stubborn. He’d have wanted to try to escape or to face the Council. Both alternatives would get them all killed.

Toby didn’t understand why his mother did what she did. He was forced to go back home with her, screaming the whole time, saying that they left his father and brother behind while Elisa was crying endelessly.

Stefan came to them eventually and calmed Toby down. His heart broke when he saw Elisa. She was... not okay.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to assist her. He immediatly went to a representent of the Council and took them to Elisa and to the Colony’s frontier to prove that she had done it and did even more than she was suppose to. Of course, not without consequences to her sanity, she had just killed her husband and baby, of course she was in pain.

Nevertheless, the Council confirmed Elisa had done her part and left to leave her alone with the child they let live.

After that, Toby spent weeks returning to that spot of the frontier to look for his dad and brother. No sucess.

As time went by, he eventually forgot about Brad, he was very young when they tore apart and Elisa and Stefan never talked about him nor Alex. All he can remember is that there was a baby in the middle of that mess, but he can’t relate to it.

He kept the memories of his father though, who was closer to him, and till this day he believes he’s alive somewhere and that he can be found. But he has no idea he’s a human and has no idea of his own true nature.

Elisa and Alex miss their respective sons deeply and think about them everyday. They also miss each other very much and the first months after the incident were terribly agonizing for the both of them.

They kept going for the child that had remained for the both of them and raised them apart from each other. Alex never told Brad what happened and so Elisa did to Toby. Like that, none of the brothers knew about the existence of each other.

Until the day Toby was sent, coincidentally, to his “little” brother’s house

And none of them has no idea of this fucking long backstory I just spent four months writing :)

enjoy

[sturchling]

Peaks out of a bush holding a sign asking for forgiveness.

Not in no hurry just add it to the list. Can I get a maribat. With Alya salt where she applys to a contest to win an interview with Lois Lane or Clark Kent. She doesn't tell anyone as she doesn't want to use Lila connections.

Use whatever lie you want to.

Meanwhile Marinette enters a contest sponsed by Daina prince Aka wonder woman.

Alya is told the reason she doesn't win and is disclfied is cause she not only did fact check a lot of what she put is can and will get her sued.

Alya was practically buzzing with excitement. She had entered a journalism contest and the prize was incredible. The first place winner would have their article published in the Daily Planet and win an interview with Clark Kent and Lois Lane, two of the top reporters in the world. Said two reporters were going to judge the entries and would also notify the contestants if they won or lost. Alya was sure she would win. She had submitted a new article, all about Lila's adventures in Gotham, how she was very close with the Wayne family, had helped with several major Wayne Enterprises projects, and how she had even helped Batman and the rest of the Batfam several times. At first, she had wanted to ask Lila for help, to make sure that she got everything right. But she didn't want to bother her friend, and she also didn't want Lila to use her connections to help Alya win. After all, Lila was very close with both Clark Kent and Lois Lane, and was going to help Alya get an internship with them at the Daily Planet. She couldn't ask Lila for more help. Alya was very proud of her work, and was positive that she would receive good news soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette had entered a contest of her own. Themyscira Industries, the public face of Wonder Woman that handles all her merchandising, had announced a contest. Wonder Woman was going to change her super suit design, and had decided that she wanted the public's input. Obviously her suit wouldn't be an exact copy of the design, they would change what they had to for practical reasons. Superhero suits have to be functional as well as fashionable after all. The winner of the contest would not only have their design as Wonder Woman's new suit, but would also get a private meeting with the Amazon herself.

Marinette jumped right in when she heard about the contest, thinking it would a fun chance to be creative and design something she wouldn't normally. And, if she won the meeting with Wonder Woman, she could get help with defeating Hawkmoth. The Parisian government had kept the whole situation a secret as best they could, so as not to effect tourism. This means, no one outside of Paris, including the Justice League, knew what was happening. If she got the meeting, she would reveal her identity to Wonder Woman. She was sure it would be fine, since Wonder Woman's mother Hippolyta was a Ladybug as well. Then with identities revealed, she would ask Wonder Woman for help tracking down Hawkmoth. It wasn't the greatest plan, but it was all she had.

With that in mind, Marinette quickly got to work. She took inspiration from suits Wonder Woman had worn over the years, and made sure that her design was also protective. Her time as Ladybug had made her appreciate a protective suit. When she finished her design, she submitted her entry and anxiously waited for the results.

Weeks went by, and both Alya and Marinette got the results of the contest. But only one girl was happy. Marinette received an email saying that she had won the contest and that her design would be made into Wonder Woman's new suit. Wonder Woman herself had even left praise for Marinette in the email. She had said she loved the design and was thrilled to see some protective elements already included in the design, which most of the other entries hadn't considered. Marinette was practically glowing, ecstatic with how the contest turned out. Not only did she get some good experience with this design, and get her name out there more in the fashion world, she had also got the meeting with Wonder Woman. She planned her trip to meet Wonder Woman

Meanwhile, Alya was upset and furious. Not only had she not won the contest, she had been disqualified. She couldn't believe it! She put everything into that article. At the bottom of the email that brought the bad news was a phone number for Clark Kent, who had sent the rejection email. Alya immediately grabbed her phone and called the number, determined to know what had happened and why she had been disqualified. As soon as Clark answered the phone, Alya started yelling, forgetting who she was talking to. She demanded to know why she was disqualified and what was wrong with her article. "Miss Cesaire, while you are very talented with writing, there is a major problem with your article. You did not fact check a single thing in that article, which was made up of entirely false statements. There is no record of this Lila Rossi being involved with the Wayne Family, Wayne Enterprises, or Batman. If we had published your article in our paper, not only would you have been sued, but we could have been as well. If you want to be a reporter as a career, I highly suggest you start fact checking all of your stories from now on. This kind of writing will absolutely get you sued and no one will want to hire a reporter with a history of publishing lies and getting sued. I wish you all the best with your future, and hope you can learn from this. Have a good day."

Alya was stunned. How could that be what got her disqualified? She had her source. How much better could you get than a first person account of what happened? Sure, she could have included some extra sources to prove everything, but primary sources are always best! Alya was determined to prove them wrong and show that her article was correct. Maybe if she got enough sources to prove her article, they would reconsider the contest. Maybe she could still win this. With that, Alya took to the internet, using all her sources and researching skills. But the more she dug into Lila's story, the more confused she became. She couldn't find any other sources that even mentioned Lila being in Gotham, let alone doing all the incredible things she had claimed to do there. On a hunch, she looked into Lila's other stories. Her stories about Jagged, Clara, Prince Ali, and many other celebrities. Alya couldn't find any proof. As far as she could tell, Lila had been lying this entire time. Alya was furious all over again, but this time at both Lila and herself. Obviously she was furious at Lila for lying to her. But, she was also angry at herself, for believing in her lies. So, Alya sat at her computer one more time tonight, and got ready to write another article.

Alya spent all night working on her new article. This one revealed everything Lila had ever lied about. All the disabilities, all the celebrity connections, and even where she had really been when she was 'on a charity trip to Achu', which she learned about when she called Mrs. Rossi to tell her what her daughter had been doing. And this time, she made sure gather all her sources and fact check everything. When she was sure about everything she had written, she published the story to the Ladyblog, with an apology for every post she had made about Lila's lies. She also took down all the articles about Lila's lies. She ended up emailing a link to her new article to Clark Kent, with an apology for her behavior when she called. Obviously, this didn't do anything in terms of the contest, but it made Alya feel better that one of her favorite reporters had seen a better article of hers.

While she didn't win the contest, when she got another email from Clark Kent saying that this article was much better, she was over the moon. He even told her about a new internship program that was starting that summer, and if she worked hard until then and kept writing and fact checking like this, he would seriously consider her for an intern position. Alya may have made a major mistake with the article she submitted to the contest, but Clark understood it was a mistake and she was trying to learn from it. Everyone deserves a second chance. Alya was thrilled and determined to work hard for that internship.

On Monday, Alya made sure to apologize to Marinette for not believing her about Lila. The two made up and started to patch up their friendship. Lila's kingdom of lies had been completely destroyed during all of this. The whole class knew she was a liar. The school knew about the lies too and expelled her for the truancy and fake disabilities. And her mother was furious when she found out and shipped Lila back to Italy, to live with her grand parents who could keep a close eye on her until Mrs. Rossi could be transferred back to Italy.

Now, Alya was sitting at her computer, getting ready to submit her application to the internship program that Clark Kent had told her about. While that contest all those months ago hadn't gone as planned, Alya was happy with what happened. If she hadn't submitted that article and got disqualified, she may never have looked into Lila's stories until it was too late. She could have ended up being sued or never made it as a reporter. And she might never have made up with Marinette. Now Marinette and her were friends again, and she had an amazing opportunity with this internship program, and it was because of her hard work.

[babycharmander]

If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence. 

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.” 

Ao3 Link: Here 

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here 

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return. 

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks. 

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo. 

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.” 

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew: 

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious. 

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him. 

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…” 

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat. 

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove. 

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.” 

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—” 

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.” 

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.” 

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—” 

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.” 

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs. 

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk. 

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did. 

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue. 

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—” 

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.” 

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—” 

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.” 

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses. 

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.” 

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot. 

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him. 

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.” 

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached. 

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.” 

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore. 

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure. 

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.” 

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head. 

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do. 

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations? 

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability. 

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position. 

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.” 

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.” 

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!” 

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.” 

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova. 

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.” 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current. 

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out. 

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies. 

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight. 

He needed a fucking drink. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs. 

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy. 

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets. 

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools. 

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb. 

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again. 

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more. 

Except… he’d been standing still that time. 

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet. 

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving. 

“What the fu—” 

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later. 

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs. 

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face. 

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots. 

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth. 

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight. 

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue. 

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky. 

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way. 

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them. 

Dynamight was here to get the job done. 

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head. 

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc. 

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him. 

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet. 

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god. 

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch. 

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him. 

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought. 

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze. 

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar. 

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals. 

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again. 

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air. 

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window. 

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then… 

Nothing. 

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

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time. 

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes. 

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop. 

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat. 

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place. 

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way. 

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to. 

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled. 

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business. 

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia. 

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite. 

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least. 

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers. 

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst. 

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things. 

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself. 

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps. 

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself. 

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good. 

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet. 

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help. 

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful. 

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful. 

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own. 

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone. 

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train. 

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.” 

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief. 

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.” 

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts. 

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking. 

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away. 

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out. 

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments. 

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes. 

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass. 

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms. 

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms. 

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash? 

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs. 

That sounded… closer. 

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky. 

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals. 

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person. 

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth. 

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack. 

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down. 

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air. 

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air. 

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached. 

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street. 

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill. 

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed. 

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it. 

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later. 

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames. 

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene. 

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him. 

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped. 

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window. 

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hey hey hey, could you make sub harry x dom fem reader smut where the reader finds out that harry spying on her in the showers with his cloak, so she takes revenge after the quidditch match on the showers? basically shower sex but reader being dom as hell. face slapping, choking, eating out, lots of degration, just pure sub harry smut!! and i loveee your writing btw love 💖🤧

pairing: harry potter x reader 

warning(s): 18+, dom!reader, mentions of voyeurism, shower sex, oral (female receiving), choking, slapping (like once), degradation, mentions of orgasm control/edging 

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: sorry i haven’t uploaded in a while, i’ve been busy but i have the week off so i hope to post more often! as always, enjoy! 

Once you saw the last of the team travel out of the locker room, you were quick to barge in - knowing your boyfriend, and the team’s captain, was the only one left. 

He was taking his jersey off when you arrived, his muscular back facing you. 

“You were great out there,” you said softly as you approached him, wrapping yours arms around him from the back despite how sweaty he was. You knew you’d be showering with him anyways. It was a little post-game ritual the two of you often loved to share. 

Harry leaned into your touch, letting some of the weight from his sore body rest on you. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do to him. He didn’t even know what was coming. Didn’t even know he had been caught this morning. But you surely weren’t going to let it slide. 

“Where were you this morning?” You asked him, innocently enough. 

“Went to breakfast then came down here,” he answered easily, moving out of your grasp to turn the water on. 

“And before that?” You asked him, raising a sly brow at him. 

You saw him freeze for a moment, but he recovered quickly. It almost made you giggle - the thought of him thinking he could get away with it. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, not turning around to face you. Instead, he opted to begin removing his pants. 

“Don’t act stupid, baby boy,” you said, almost mockingly. “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

He froze for real then, his hands glued to the hem of his pants. You could practically feel him wracking his brain for something to say, but you both knew he already lost. 

When he turned to face you, his expression was filled with guilt and shame. It was almost cute how pitiful he looked. You walked up closer to him, completely invading his space until your chest was pressed against his. You could hear the way his breath hitched before he released a shaky breath, and you knew he was exactly where you wanted him. 

“Did you think it was okay to peep on me in the shower? You’re not slick, you know? I know when you’re using the cloak,” you questioned, referencing what had happened just that morning. 

You had been taking a shower, excitedly getting ready to watch your boyfriend play in his game today, when you heard an unmistakable swishing along the bathroom floor. You barely even had to look up when you saw it hit the light in exactly the right way. To anyone else, it may have just been a trick of the eye, but you knew exactly what it was. You had been underneath it enough times to know. It was Harry, underneath his invisibility cloak, watching you shower. 

And as aroused as you were that Harry had managed to sneak all the way in there just for you, just to see you naked, you refused to give him the show he wanted. After all, he didn’t need to know you knew was there. So you continued your shower as you normally would, finally hearing the unmistakable swishing leave the bathroom once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking down at his feet bashfully. 

“I’m sure you’re not, but you’ll make it up to me. Won’t you, baby?” You asked teasingly, palming him through his briefs to find him already half hard. When all he could do was whimper, you couldn’t help but chuckle, but you let it slide. “Help me strip.” 

He moved eagerly, quickly helping you out of your layers until you were naked. You moved under the water, letting it encase you before you turned back to him. He was watching you with eagle eyes, not daring to take them off of you. 

“Down on your knees, baby boy. I don’t know what you think you were doing, but I’m in charge now,” you told him, spreading your legs seductively, leaving him with a perfect spot to place his mouth. 

He was down on his knees within a second, not even minding the cold, hard bathroom floor. His lips sucked around your clit harshly, forcing your hips to buck up from the wall. He didn’t miss a single beat, almost effortlessly working your body with his lips and tongues. Regardless of how you felt about this morning, your man was good and you both knew it. 

“Look at you finally being good. Maybe if you had been good all day, I would have been the one on my knees,” you told him between your moans. You felt more than heard him whimper against your body, picturing the roles reversed. 

He got you off quickly after that, wanting to prove to you so badly that he was good, so that hopefully, if you allowed it, he could get off too. You came with a deep moan, your back arched against the cool shower wall and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as possible to your body. His tongue didn’t stop until you were writhing, forcing him off of you. 

When you looked down at him again, a whole new rush of arousal shot through your body. His hair was a beautiful mess, tousled under your fingers and the water. His lips were swollen and wet, slightly parted as he finally got the chance to breathe. And his eyes. Oh his fucking eyes. He looked like an absolute glorious fucked out mess even though you hadn’t even touched him yet. He looked as breathless as you felt. The power you had over this man was borderline insanity. 

“Do you think you did a good enough job to fuck me?” You asked him lowly, watching his eyes widen. 

“Please. I’ve wanted to all day,” he told you honestly, the plea evident in his eyes. 

“I really don’t think you deserve it after your stunt this morning but I’ll be nice. You can fuck me, but you better make me cum twice of your cock before you even think about cumming,” you gave in with a dark chuckle, watching as a blush crept to his face and his cock twitched. 

He was on his feet in an instant, easily lifting you up and balancing your body between the wall and his strong chest. It didn’t take him much longer to slip his cock inside of you and from the angle, you could feel everything. Every vien, every ridge, every throb. He definitely chose correctly when he picked this position. 

WIth every thrust, his pelvis was brushing against your clit and the tip of his cock was perfectly hitting your g-spot. You couldn’t even hold the moans back. He was proving just how good he was tenfold, he deserved to hear how good he was making you feel. 

“You were so fucking bad this morning, you know that?” You asked, slowly dragging your hand up his chest and to his throat. You didn’t clench down hard, but the fact that your hand was there was enough to make him moan. “Who gave you the filthy idea that peeping on me was the right thing to do?” 

“Y/N, fuck,” he said back, not quiet an answer, but you knew exactly what it meant. It meant that as your orgasm was building, so was his and he was having a hard time controlling it between your words and your hand so perfectly placed. 

And you knew exactly what to do to tip him over the edge. To make him cum and break the rules some more just so you could fuck with him more later. It was devious, but it was the perfect punishment. 

“You’re not showing me how good you can be. I know how close you are. Are you thinking about me in the shower again? How good I looked touching myself while you watched?” You questioned, your hand only gripping his throat tighter. 

“No. Fuck. I’m being good, please,” he begged aimlessly, thrusting inside of you erratically, just proving how close to the edge he was. 

“If you were good, you wouldn’t act like a desperate little boy,” you told him, trying your best to sound coherent through your own moans. 

You gripped his chin between your fingers to hold him steady before bringing up your other hand and swinging it against his face, a resounding crack echoing around the empty locker room. His head remained steady, but his entire body trembled. He managed to keep you upright, but he was breaking down slowly, spiraling to his release. 

“You better make me cum before you do,” you got out, at least managing to sound menacing enough. 

“I’m so close. Please cum, please,” Harry whimpered, fighting against himself to get you there. 

No matter what, you could never say that Harry Potter was a quitter. He raced to get you to your finish, and when you did, you contracted around him so tightly he hissed and you released with a scream, unable to hold back the sound. He came with a groan, his head buried in your shoulder. 

You took a moment to catch your breath before opening your mouth to speak. “I thought I told you to make me cum twice before you did,” you offered weakly, still a little breathless. But nevertheless, your words had their desired effect. 

Harry’s head immediately snapped up and you could already see the apology in his eyes. You chuckled slightly as you slid back down the wall, gracefully landing on your feet. 

“Don’t worry, baby boy. You’ll learn your lesson for that one later - nothing a few edges won’t be able to fix. But first we need to finish your shower, hm?” You asked softly, moving his messy hair back out of his face. 

He gulped but gave you a steady nod before flashing a barely there grin. He was a little shit - basically asking for a punishment. But he was all yours.

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[obeymeluv]

QUICK! KISS ME! [Bros x Reader]

A lead-up blurb before I go to bed.

School is killing me. This has been in the drafts far longer than I wanted.

No offense if your name is Bethany. It’s a name I picked at random.

The follow-up piece will have the kiss scenarios.

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Some of Asmo’s friends may have used you to get into a special makeup event, but it’s okay! They bought you a lip gloss as a thank you! The shade ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ was not what you thought it’d be

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Being one of the first humans in the Devildom could be uncomfortable and sometimes down-right dangerous! It also had its perks. To you, that meant being close with the Seven Lords of Hell (and Diavolo). To other lesser demons and classmates, you were kind of a ‘get out of jail’ free card.

Were they late to class? Oh, just helping the human out!

Caught sneaking in food or drink when they weren’t supposed to? It’s to split with the human, of course! They thought you’d love to try it!

Everyone was keen not to overuse it and you’d actually made good friends this way. It was starting to feel less like an excuse and more of a way to be included. You were the friendly, reliable human that had won hearts and saved some asses. As a thank you, one of your closer friends (a repeat offender for lateness), invited you out to an exclusive makeup release. She was a VIP member and had early access an hour before the store opened to the Devildom public. 

The fact that she chose you, a human, over some LITERAL century-old friends caused a bit of tension but she could care less. “I’ve seen them every day for over a hundred years. You get one year, and we’re going to make it awesome!” Bethany breezed through the store at a dizzying pace, picking through concealers and opening a box of mascara to look at the packaging. She moved at a pace only demons could manage; you thought you saw her by the nail polish display but when you looked again she was throwing sheet masks in her basket. Hooking her arm with yours, she picked up some foundation on the way back to the coveted display of lip glosses and lipsticks.

You weren’t totally versed in the differences between Devildom makeup and human world makeup. In all honesty, there didn’t seem to be a difference. Bethany swatched powdery cream lipsticks on her wrist and followed with ribbons of liquid lipstick. Every now and then she dotted them on your arm; she was adamant about finding a shade the both of you could wear as your thing.  

“This one,” she decided, waving the tube at you and booping your nose with it carefully. “This is our color!” she took you by the hand and joined the checkout line. She had two in her hand but refused to let you so much as hold one, wanting to pay for it first. It wasn’t technically breaking the purchase limit rule; if they tried to nag her she’d just say she was holding onto it so another demon didn’t bully you out of it. You didn’t know if it was her VIP status or the fact that her defense made sense, but you were able to check out without a problem.

A few sour faces and mean glares met you outside but Bethany ignored it all, eager to have a Devilgram-worthy celebratory snack break (snack victory? You know, since you got the makeup?) The plan was to eat, hold down a table at the nearby cafe while her other friends shopped, and have group makeovers (or try-ons) before calling it a day. That plan was interrupted three bites into a croissant sandwich when Lucifer summoned you back to the House of Lamentation. He’d gotten wind of all the girls you’d be with and didn’t feel totally comfortable letting you hang out with them,

Had Barbatos seen something? Did Lucifer feel spurned that you weren’t hanging out with the Seven Lords of the Devildom? He gave no answer, simply asking you to stay put while someone came to escort you back to the house. Bethany was put off by the turn of events but few people dared to complain about the Seven Lords due to their connections with Diavolo (she was no exception). “If we can’t get the full makeover, we’re getting the selfie!” she declared, deftly breaking the seal to her Sealed with a Kiss gloss and swiping it on with help from the front-facing camera on her D.D.D

You busied yourself with opening your tube. Before you could ask for her phone (since the camera was already open), she took the tube from you and tilted your chin up. She dabbed the center of your lips playfully before carefully tracing your lips with the color. The heat rose in your cheeks and she smirked. Being part succubus, she could draw energy from emotions like embarrassment and the feeling of being flattered. Her fingertips pulsed under your chin as she drew on that energy. 

Getting energy sucked could feel like a lot of things -- being light-headed, getting a rush of excitement, all prickly and tingly like your whole body was pins and needles. Whatever it was, it usually faded into drowsiness and kittenish contentment. She probably only touched your chin for seconds but the wash of coziness had you melting against your chair, your cheek cradled in her palm. 

Did she take the pic? What was happening? It felt like Asmodeus had materialized out of thin air, helping you stand and making small-talk with Bethany before pulling you away, out of her aura that was trying to suckle the vestiges of happy energy you offered.

“And what shade did you get on those pretty lips, hm?” the cotton fell out of your head and ears, allowing you to really hear Asmo now that the aura effects had worn off.

“Uh,” you fished around in your bag and looked at the packaging. “Sealed with a Kiss.”

Asmodeus stopped so abruptly it’d almost yanked you back to him. The two of you were barely tangled at the pinkies and now he’d completely laced your hands together. He held your hands captive, drawing them up in surprise and basically dragging you into his torso. You were forced to look up into glittering pink eyes and if you didn’t know any better, they looked a little panicked.

“How long ago did you apply it?”

“I don’t know.” you blinked helplessly at him. That energy suck thing had a way of making your brain tune out and turn to pudding. That aside, who knows how long Asmo stood there and talked to Bethany while you were being siphoned?! “Bethany applied it, not me.”

Asmo clicked his tongue, huffed, resigned himself to only holding one hand. and started scrolling on his D.D.D to find that selfie Bethany posted. You were being dragged along like a child as Asmo’s shoes clicked towards the House of Lamentation. It amazed you how well he could navigate his D.D.D with his long, painted nails. 

Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

Asmodeus tucked his D.D.D into his pants pocket, scooped you up in a way that terrified and amazed you (two people being supported by one set of heels?), and flew to the House of Lamentation. He didn’t always use his wings, as he preferred to decorate them and maintain them with oils, but the fact that he was flying made you nervous.

What had he found? What was the deal?

“Asmo--” you started nervously, the flapping of his wings nearly drowning you out as he pushed himself. Flying against the wind didn’t help. Your hair was a mess and the wind was in your face; the Devildom was always a little chilly but now it was enough to make your face tingly.

“She gave you enchanted makeup. There is a reason humans don’t use enchanted makeup.” Asmo’s pretty brows furrowed as he cut a hard angle and glided over a portion of the square. The tell-tale thicket of trees that lined the winding path back to the House of Lamentation were on the edge of the horizon.

“What’s going to happen?” should you ask that? Did you really want to know?

“You’ll feel something in your lips--some people felt tingling, some people felt pulsing, it can be anything, I think--and then they’ll seal shut.”

“SHUT?!” you yelped. It was enough to make Asmo wince. The startle carried over to his wings; they shuddered and locked; the two of you dropped for a heartbeat or two before he corrected himself.

“If I can’t get some makeup remover on it first.” Asmo panted, tucking his wings in and preparing for a quick descent. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought to teleport first--the panic? Trying to one-up Bethany by walking home and being extra cute with hand-holding?--but a quick touch down could roll into a simple skip teleportation and everything should work out!

“But my lips are already tingly!”

“Ugh, Bethany! I can’t believe you! I mean, I can because it’s you, but really, Bethany?”

“Asmo, focus!” you’d already skipped several feet ahead, clearing the front yard in two teleports. The third put you in the foyer. “I don’t want my lips to seal shut!”

The House of Lamentation was huge but when the occupants had supernatural hearing, that exclamation turned heads. 

“What’s this about your lips sealing shut?” Lucifer appeared at the top of his stairs, his head already shaking.

“DID YOU MAKE A PACT WITH A WITCH?!” Mammon screamed down the hall, clearly not far behind.

Asmo scoffed, lowering his D.D.D with a pout. He was halfway up the main stairs, fingers working at lightning speed. “It’s the lip color!” he explained, stomping his foot. Noisy people were just so annoying! If everyone was talking he couldn’t explain! How rude! 

“All this over some makeup?” skeptical Satan peered over the banister, book and arm casually propped up on it.

“If two people apply the color and kiss, they’re locked in a makeout session until it dries down. When one person applies the lip color, they can use it like a cheat sheet to see who secretly wants to kiss them,” his words tapered out from authoritatively informed to quiet and shy. “It’s from their ‘Liquid Love’ collection.” he muttered into the stunned silence of the room.

You were trying to open your lips and ask why. The magic had already taken hold. Asmodeus could see you trying to move your lips and strain your chin. Luckily, demons could read minds. “It’s because Bethany is stupid.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Ambitious, but stupid.”

“Please explain, Asmo.” even when using the dear nickname Lucifer couldn’t hide the demand. His demon aura was creeping up his body and slowly becoming jagged and suffocating.

“Bethany has had a HUGE crush on our little human here, and wanted to seal it with a kiss, so to speak.” Asmo’s cheeks got pinker and pinker as he explained. Mostly because he was mad he didn’t think about it. His heart did something funny at the thought of you kissing someone else. Lucifer also looked like he wanted to murder someone about now, and Asmo had to remind himself that he was being looked through, not looked at.   

“Just grab a napkin and wipe it off.” Mammon shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Asmodeus shook his head angrily. “It’s too late now. We need to find someone for them to kiss! Someone’s lips will break the seal on theirs...that’s kind of the point of the enchantment.”

“So they just pick someone to kiss?” Levi’s face was turning tomato red. Would it be him?! It would at least be one of them, right? What if your person wasn’t in the House of Lamentation and you NEVER SPOKE AGAIN?!

“Sort of.” Asmo patted your shoulders with his gentle, smooth hands. He started to rub them like he was trying to warm you up. Partly in encouragement and partly to get your attention because he could feel your brain spiraling down into panic. “They basically follow their mouth.”

“So that lip color is like a crush detector?” Satan abandoned his book at the top of the stairs and was now perusing articles on his D.D.D as he sauntered down the steps. It sounded like he’d found the one that sent Asmo flying to the House of Lamentation.

“Basically.” Asmo sighed. It was the stupidest way to confess to someone, he thought. Demon to demon, it was fine. Demon to human?! NO! The whole thing gave him a headache. The fact that Bethany thought she could just steal your little lips and be greedy with them was the biggest annoyance of it all.

“So,” Satan’s green eyes cut sharply from his phone to you. The corner of his lips curled up in a smart little smirk. He knew it was wrong to find your predicament so funny, but this was a very human thing to get mixed up in. “Who do your lips want? Who do you feel yourself being drawn to?”

[wotanidiott]

maybe some draco angst with prompts 20, 17 & 15 (angst ones)? thank you 🤎

—————————————————

The Other Potter

summary - after a heated argument, draco finally confesses, or rather shows you, his hidden feelings

pairing - draco x fem reader, mentions of ron x fem reader

house - gryffindor

time period - 7th year

word count - 2.6k

warnings - very angsty, violence and a whole lot of swearing

a/n - ahhh this is my first official post skdjkssjskksjssk !!!! i hope it’s okay i made the reader harry’s sister? i just randomly came up with the storyline and thought it would fit well with your request ... anyways i hope yall like it <3

prompts

“are you going to cry now?”

“you’re scaring me”

“you’re nothing. you hear me? nothing”

"Y/N!" You heard the distant calling of your name amongst the chatter of the mass of students in the Great Hall. Cocking your head slightly forward from your seat at the Gryffindor table, you found the source of the noise as they barrelled into the entrance with a frantic look in their eyes.

"Neville, what's wrong?" You question him, as he flops onto Seamus Finnigan, seated adjacent from you. Seamus furrows his eyebrows at his friend's breathless state, then looking at you with the same confused expression on your face.

Neville audibly heaves for a good minute, catching his breath from the seemingly long run he underwent.

"Harry, he—" His sentence is interrupted by a lengthy inhale of oxygen.

You perk up at your brother's name. A plethora of questions surfacing in your mind. "Harry? What happened? What did he do now?" You stand up, placing both hands on the table as you peer over at the short-winded boy now laying flat on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“He ... he—”

"He what?" You persist.

"Courtyard. He's— A-And Malfoy. "

That's all you needed to snatch your bag off the floor and bolt for the courtyard.

You realised you had developed some sort of attraction to the infamous Slytherin Prince around the start of 5th year. Although, you had assumed it was just a phase. In what world could you ever be attracted to the one guy that makes you and your brother's lives a living hell?

So that's what you had concluded it was. Just a phase. One that had seemingly fizzled out once you started dating Ron and now call a silly mishap.

But that wasn't true at all, was it?

A series of scenarios flickered through your head as you begun to wonder just exactly what had happened for poor Neville to nearly faint from shortness of breath to fetch you.

It must've been urgent.

As you reach the Courtyard, a crowd has formed around the oak tree, most likely watching the interaction between the two boys. Your hand finds the wand tucked in the pocket of your robes, gripping it tightly as you push through the cluster of people to get to the front.

He sees you before you see him.

"Ahhh, how nice of you to join us. Now the other Potter's here, we can really have some fun" Malfoy announces. Sniggers erupt from the group of Slytherins behind him as you finally reach the centre of the circle.

Your eyebrows knit together in perplexity. Malfoy is stood in the middle, surrounded by his goons but there's no sight of Harry.

"Where is he?" You snap at Malfoy, hostility lacing your words as you look around the gathered students agitated.

"Y/N, I'm here!" Harry's voice calls from above. At first your skeptic but as you look up, there he was. Floating in mid-air. Along with Hermione and Ron.

"You bloody git. I'll get you back for this Malfoy. I swear—" Ron is cut off by the single wave of Blaise Zabini's wand, effectively silencing him.

"They look rather comfy up there, Potter. Don't you think? Care to join them?" Malfoy pulls his signature smirk, eyeing you up and down.

The hold on your wand tightens as you whip it out and point it at him, stepping forward. "Oh, I wouldn't if I were you. Unless you want a repeat of fourth year? Don't think we all forgot about you running stark naked around the corridors after your little ferret incident."

The crowd bursts into laughter at your witty comeback. Even Theodore Nott couldn't contain his laughter and eventually gave in when he saw the humiliated look gracing Malfoy's face.

Malfoy's gaze on you hardens, his upper lip curling in contempt as he too takes a step forward. If looks could kill, this would be it. He flicks his wand upwards, still maintaining eye contact and you hear the thud of 3 bodies on your left, followed by grunts from the hard contact as he relinquished the golden trio from his spell.

"Yeah? No wonder Weasel left you for the Mudblood. I would too considering what a bitch you are." He hisses with no remorse.

Gasps emit from the crowd at his harsh riposte.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, the comment hit a nerve. You remained civil with Hermione and Ron after having found out he cheated on you with her but the pain was still there. A guilty expression flickered over the couple's faces as they shot you an apologetic look.

"Awww, are you going to cry now?"

Your wand lowers slightly from the impact of Malfoy's insult and he takes this as an opportunity to cast a leg-locking curse.

However, he underestimated you. You managed to block the spell with a simple protection charm before quickly shouting "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand jumped into your open hand in a fleet of a moment and he was left defenceless.

"I may be a bitch but at least I'm not a disappointment. It's obvious that your Father would rather have anyone— hell, he'd even have Harry rather than you as a son" you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him.

You felt a surge of satisfaction when an emotion that resembled hurt flashed across his face. But it went as soon as it came.

Something in Draco snapped. It was one thing to ridicule him in front of his peers but to bring up his Father? Now that was a whole different ball game. Before he could even stop himself, a barrage of insults came pouring out.

"Are you even hearing yourself? At least I have a Father. And I have a Mother. You? You have no one. Your parents are fucking dead, Potter. You don't even have any recollection of them—"

"MALFOY—"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter" He snaps at Harry then instantly directs his attention to you again. "And as for your sorry brother, I don't even see you two together anymore. He'd rather be around the two people that betrayed you—"

"Draco, mate, I think that's enoug—" Theo tugs on Malfoy's sleeve to get him to stop but he's persistent on speaking his mind.

"Piss off, Nott. A-Around the two people that betrayed you than— than a pathetic excuse for a witch. No one likes nor cares about you. You're nothing, Potter. You hear me? Nothing."

Malfoy appeared deranged in the way he lashed out at you, chest heaving from his rant and wild eyes that looked as if he could kill you right at that moment.

But you didn't care.

You were past the point of caring. You knew all the things he said to you were true, you sometimes even thought it. But it felt like a whole new revelation when he stated it aloud. In front of everyone. Soon the whole school would be talking about this.

But you didn't care.

It was then, Draco knew. He knew he messed up. He took in the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his peers around him. Harry's enraged expression. His friends' guilty body language; despite the fact they played no part in the insult.

Then his eyes swept over to you. He had knocked the life right out of you. You looked ... numb. With your faintly quivering lip and glassy eyes, he realised he had overstepped. Usually, you'd retaliate and he would too until you were both separated by your friends or the professors.

Though, this was different. This was overdoing it.

"R-Right." You managed to say flatly but the distress was clear in your words. The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill and you felt sick. Sick to the stomach about the fact everyone had heard and were most likely going to realise that about you too if they hadn't already.

You had to leave. Bolt out of there before you became a weeping mess.

You turned on your heel and made a beeline for the closest abandoned corridor you knew by heart. You couldn't go to your dorm because Harry would find you there and you wanted to be alone for the time being.

You ignored your brother's calls to come back aswell as Hermione's and a few other fellow Gryffindors you had befriended over the years.

Tear after tear came rolling down your flushed cheeks. Each one representing a time you had bottled up those feelings and refused to give into the 'let it all go' mechanism.

The past 2-3 years had been a blur of pain and heartbreak. Ron and Hermione's betrayal had hit you worse than you thought, combined with Harry's absence and the pitiful treatment your friends had been giving you.

"Potter, wait!"

You whirled round so fast at the all so familiar voice. Out of all people, you hadn't expected him to be the one to follow you.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy. Please— Just .... just please leave me alone" Your plead came out in splutters, unable to fully form a sentence with the state your mind was in.

You swivel back round and begin to continue further down the hallway but you don't get far as Malfoy calls after you again.

"Potter, stop."

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT? YOU WANT TO HUMILIATE ME EVEN MORE? IS THAT IT? WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT, MALFOY?" You turn, snapping at him.

Through the swelling anger and haze of your tears, you couldn't make out his expression as he stared intently at your face.

"I— I just wanted to—" Malfoy pauses for a second, struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he simply sighs, eyes travelling to your hand. "My wand. You have my wand." He points at your clenched fists that have both his and your wand in it's tight grip.

At that, you feel immensely stupid for lashing out at him. Huffing, you shove it in his hands and collapse against the vacant corridor's wall out of frustration.

You bury your head in your hands and replay the scene that had just occurred. It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating ... but it was the truth.

"Potter."

You started slightly at the sound of Malfoy's voice. You had expected him to go running back to his goons to ridicule your breakdown yet here he was.

"Wh-What are y-you still doing here?" You managed to reply in between hiccups as you kept your eyes wired shut to cease the ever flowing stream of tears. "Would h-have thought you'd ran off and celebrated this v-victory of yours with the other Slytherins."

"Potter, I—"

"No, you know what, I don't even care anymore." You get to your feet and push yourself off the wall. This would only satisfy Malfoy even further; watching every piece of the facade you managed to maintain, crack and fracture. He didn't deserve to see you like this.

As you swivel round, about to make a run to your dorm, you're pulled back by a harsh grip on your wrist. Cold rings digging into your skin as he spins you back round.

"Well, I do." Malfoy says in almost a whisper.

You shoot him a bemused look at his vague and random words.

He takes in your confused expression and further elaborates. "...Care. I mean." He says, flatly whilst looking around you as if he were avoiding your eyes.

You can't help the scoff that passes through your mouth as you yank your wrist free of his grasp. "You? Care? Yeah, right."

You go to turn again but he stops you once more. "Look, Potter—"

"Malfoy—"

"If you would just—"

"No—"

"Listen to me—"

"Why would—"

In a fleet of a moment, Malfoy shoves you against the wall. His large hand wrapped around the back of your head to mitigate the impact. And the other squeezing your hip to hold you in place.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP INTERRUPTING ME. IS IT SO HARD TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND FUCKING LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY?"

You open your mouth to protest but you're quickly cut off by his hand leaving your head as it drives into the stone wall right next to your face.

"STOP IT. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT LISTEN MEANS, POTTER?"

You jump at the abrupt act of violence combined with the volume and harshness of his words.

"LISTEN."

His fist rams into the wall again.

"TO."

And again.

"ME."

And again.

Your eyes screw shut as you let out a small whimper from the proximity of his punches between the wall and your face. Tears escaping and falling rapidly from the fear he had elicited out of you combined with the occurrence that had put you in this mess in the first place.

Malfoy is pulled out of his momentary ballistic rage at the sound of your small and helpless sounding whimper. He had yet again let his temper get the better of him. Culpability overcame him as he took in your cowering state and he instantly regretted spinning out of control.

"Potter." His voice, eyes and grip had softened drastically, completely contrasting his aura just seconds ago.

"Y-You're scaring me." You murmur.

Malfoy instantaneously takes a step back, releasing you from his hold.

Your eyes fly open and immediately register the immense shame etched on his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" He pauses momentarily, sighing to himself before continuing. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt you. I didn't mean the things I said earlier."

It was an understatement to say you were taken aback by Malfoy apologising. You didn't think he even knew how to.

"You're sorry?" You reply, dubiously.

"Yes. I am."

You squint your eyes at him in suspicion, "No, you're not. Why would you be sorry? You don't even care—"

"Fuck's sake, not again." He cuts you off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose out of irritation.

You don't understand. What's his angle? Surely, he doesn't really care. Right?

"What? You don't. Or else you wouldn't have—" You attempt to explain your point of view but he interrupts you once more.

"FUCKING HELL, POTTER. I AM SORRY, OKAY? IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE THAT I'M APOLOGISING FOR HURTING YOUR FEELINGS?"

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you stare at each other.

"Yes." You breathe. "I-I just don't understand why you would—"

Before you could even process what was happening, Malfoy has you pinned to the wall anew but this time with his lips pressed against yours.

You undergo a mixture of all sorts of emotions in the time span of a second. Shock, confusion, disbelief and most of all a tiny spark of exuberance.

He gives you little time to melt into the kiss before he's pulling away already and holding your face in his hands.

You've never been this close to Malfoy before, so needless to say you wouldn't have believed anyone if they said Malfoy actually had the most entrancing eyes. Like a storm brewing behind grey clouds, you thought.

"Does that answer your question?" He asks, a smirk creeping up his face.

You can't help the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you attempt to mirror his smirk. "Partly, yes."

Without a second thought, you smash your lips against his, hands travelling to his hair as you lightly tug on the ends.

He slightly moans at this and mumbles in between kisses, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

You both suddenly pull away from each other as you meet Harry's eyes from the end of the hallway.

Shit.

———————————————————————

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[mintelepathy]

"How did my underwear end up here?"

idol!jimin x reader/oc

established relationship

word count: +1.0k

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: oc just bought a bunch of lipsticks and can't help but try them on jimin's lips

mlist

You were scrolling through social media as you waited for jimin to be done with his shower. He went to your apartment earlier that day to spend some time with you, but time passed by so fast that you asked him to stay the night there, and of course, there was no way he was going to lose the opportunity to be with you for as long as you both could.

"Do you still have some of my clothes here babe?" he asked as he made his way out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, his face completely bare and his black hair wet. He was unbelievable pretty, the prettiest human being you've ever met to be more precise.

"Yeah, there should be something in my closet, I was doing the laundry the other day and I found some of your stuff there" you left your phone on the bed as you got up to help him find his clothes.

"How did my underwear end up here?" he asked when you handed him his clothes and you couldn't help but giggle at his question.

"Do I really have to answer that?" you side eyed him trying to hide the smile forming on your lips.

You kept looking into your closet to find something you recently bought as he went back to the bathroom to get change. He didn't take too long because when you made your way to sit on the bed he was already done.

"What's that?" he asked when he saw a box in your hands.

"Lipsticks and lip glosses"

"Are you going to do your makeup right now?" he jumped into the bed and grabbed one of the lipsticks to take a closer look at it.

"Actually, can I put these on your lips?"

"I've got some nice lips uh?" he said jokingly but also knowing the fact that your lips really had an effect on you.

"Can I?" you asked him again as you rolled your eyes.

"Sure, my lips are all yours" he leaned over and when his face was close enough to yours he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.

He laid on his back and you crossed your legs to get more comfortable.

Even though he had just showered, you firstly wanted to do some skin care for him for at least a few minutes.

You grabbed a face mask from the same box from earlier and you put it on his face after you tied up his hair. You needed to wait twenty minutes and while waiting you decided to give him a gentle massage on his neck and shoulders.

You knew how much he practiced everyday and how sore his muscles ended up being after dancing for hours, so it was actually really usual of you to give him a massage everytime you had the chance.

Also you couldn't love more the fact that he always lets you take care of him just like he always takes care of you.

Twenty minutes later you removed the mask off his face and threw it to your side. You traced circular patterns across his face to help it absorb the rest of the product and there you were done.

"I almost fell asleep, that was so relaxing" he said as he opened his eyes. "Thank you"

"You don't need to thank me" you said as you ran your fingers through his locks and then you grabbed a few lip glosses and lipsticks to put them on his lips. "Chim, choose one" you handed him five lipsticks first.

"This one" he chose one with a subtle red tone.

You applied it carefully on his lips to make sure you did not mess up, and once you finished you gave him a little mirror so he could see how the color looked on him.

"It looks so good on you" you said staring at his lips and only his lips.

"Okay, I may actually use this from now on, I like it"

"Now choose one of these" You said as you handed him some lip glosses.

He chose one that was almost transparent and you excitedly applied it on top of the previous colour.

"Wow" you couldn't believe how good and kissable his lips looked. If his natural lips already had an effect on you, imagine seeing them so glossy and plumped just like they were now.

"Babe, close your mouth" he said smiling as he slightly touched your chin with his index finger.

You tried four more different colors but before finishing you wanted to mess up with him a little bit, so you grabbed a really deep and dark red lipstick and put him on his lips but this time you didn't really want to be careful, and it only took him a few seconds to notice it before he sat straight on the bed.

"You will regret this" he didn't even give you time to escape because he was already grabbing you by the waist and tossing you around on the bed.

He was now covering your face and neck with kisses so fast that you couldn't stop laughing. At that point there was no doubt your face was totally painted in red, he didn't miss a single spot.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?" he didn't have to answer because his face already said it all. "Since I'm already a full tomato, I wouldn't mind a few more kisses you know?"

He smiled and leaned towards you again but this time he kisses weren't fast and ticklish like the ones from a moment ago but instead these were full of softness.

"Wait here, I'll go grab something to clean that face of yours" He said before getting up and you waited for him just like he told you.

It was at that moment when you realized that if someone asked you what makes you happy, you wouldn't doubt to say that those kind of moments you spend with him were the ones that made you feel the happiest.

He is the person who makes you happy, and nothing could change that.

♡

A like or reblog is always appreciated🤍

Hey I'm back, school has been being hell lately and things weren't easy with my mind full focused on the boys comeback, but I'll try to post more things during this month👀

Btw, stream butter

[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter 5

Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Violence, open wound (minor), smut, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, fingering, unprotected sex, masturbation (m), virgin!Levi, virgin!reader, mutual virginity loss, tooth rotting fluff, gets a little angtsy towards the end.

Word Count: 13.2K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in The Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest... and your ex.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Series Masterlist

A/N: oh my god picking out those words and selecting them individually to bolden them cuz tumblr doesn’t know how to copy and paste correctly was TEDIOUS. it gives the effect i wanted but jfc tumblr learn how to copy and paste bold and italics jeez. this was definitely the most fun chapter, as you shall see. this was supposed to contain more than just smut but i got super carried away and it would have been like, 22K if i paired it with the next one, so the next chapter will take a little longer, but i’ll make a post about that separately after this one. hope you all enjoy!

18+ MINORS DNI

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

“Levi?! You fucking idiot, you could have died!” it was the last thing you’d expected to come back to after a few days away. After spending some time with the strange man who took you in three years ago, Viper, he called himself, you were excited to come back to the small house you had with your best, and possibly only, friend outside The Nest.

What you weren’t expecting was to find him, propped up against the small wooden table in the centre of the room, shirtless, slowly bleeding out through his shoulder. You didn’t know where the other two were, and in fact, that was your first question.

“Where the hell are Isobel and Farlan, and why the fuck haven’t they sorted you out?” you stormed across the room, setting your bag down on one of the kitchen chairs before assessing his injury.

“First of all… I didn’t die. Second of all… shit… they’re out buying ODM parts after Isa’s shitty landing the other day, and th-fuck-thirdly, this only happened today. They’d just left when I got back,” Levi grit his teeth as you gently prodded the wound. Shit this fucking hurt. It was a stab wound from a shitty bartender in a shitty part of town who decided he didn’t like Levi’s shitty attitude. Honestly, looking back…

He couldn’t blame him.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“You’re a fucking idiot,”

“You’ve said that already,”

“This isn’t funny, Levi,” you huffed, turning to rifle through the bag you’d haphazardly dumped on the chair. You’d never been so thankful for Viper’s weird yet wonderful survival lessons. Over the last three days, he’d taught you basic medical training. You had no idea how the fuck he knew how to apply a tourniquet or sew wounds, but you never questioned the man. He reminded you of your father in some ways.

Just a little more violent.

“Stay still, it needs to be cleaned,” you brought out a small bottle of whiskey, a gift from one of Viper’s associates. His “Shadows”, or something.

Levi narrowed his eyes as you began taking out various pieces of equipment, and couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the expensive looking bottle.

“Where the fuck did you get these things, (Y/N)?” he breathed, glancing between the medical supplies and your face. Levi hated how he didn’t know what you did. He didn’t know where you went for days, and it worried him when you didn’t return when you said you would. He was always worried about you. Instantly missing the warmth of your smile as soon as you left.

“That’s not important right now. I need you to hold still, this is going to hurt,” his face heated slightly as you searched him, that apologetic guilt in your expression made him want to hold you and tell you everything was okay.

But he wouldn’t.

Because you two were friends.

And had been for years.

Despite his budding feelings, he would never cross that line with you.

Unless you wanted to, of course…

“It’s fine. Do what you gotta do,” he responded flatly, choosing instead to find the wooden skirting board incredibly interesting to look at. Much more interesting than your face.

He couldn’t stop the pained hiss that escaped his mouth as the piercing sting of alcohol in a fresh wound clouded his mind for a moment, fist clenching as his eyes screwed shut.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” you muttered under your breath, hating every second of pain you were putting him through. But you had to clean the wound, and you had nothing else to use. You silently thanked the man called Wolf for the burning liquor, not expecting to use it in quite a way. Screwing the lid back on the amber bottle, you set it to one side, gently dabbing the torn flesh with a cotton bud.

“Levi, this is going to need stitches. Shit, what were you stabbed with, a fucking sword?” This was one of the things he loved most about you. No matter how dire or stressful the situation, you could always crack a joke, even whilst keeping a straight face.

“Kitchen knife. Pretty standard for the tavern–”

“THAT MOTHERFUCKER AGAIN?” yeah, this wasn’t the first time Levi had been met with problems from that place.

“Yeah, him. Got me good this time,” Levi almost laughed at your look of subdued rage. He knew how much you hated that owner. But that amusement was quelled when your rage was replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher.

He let the silence drag on as you retrieved a small needle and thread, not even questioning where you learnt how to do this.

“Sorry, this will hurt again, but not as much,” you warned him, your tone having dropped several notches to something almost melancholic. Angling the needle next to the tender flesh, you waited for his nod until you continued, trying to concentrate throughout the whirling guilt.

He’d gotten himself hurt. Again.

And you weren’t there for him.

Again.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” you whispered, pulling the thread through the wound, slowly closing the gaping tear.

“‘S’fine, I didn’t even feel it,”

“N-no, not that. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Again,” this was the thing he hated most about you. You had a habit of blaming yourself for things you couldn’t control. You always felt like you had to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you always felt like you had to do it alone. It always took Levi some time and a long, long conversation to convince you that you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N), stop,” you immediately pulled back, scared you may have hurt him.

“Sorry! I didn’t realise it was hurting, i’ll try–”

“No. Stop,” he took both your hands in his own, making you raise your eyes to him. “You know thinking like that is pointless because I always manage to get it through your thick skull that I am in fact, not your responsibility, okay? It’s my job to get stabbed, to get shot and have random glass bottles thrown at me. It’s what happens when you steal a bunch of shit and sell it on. So quit thinking like you have to look after me. It should be the other way around,”

“Why? Because you’re a man?” your small, mischievous grin told him he managed to get his message across.

“No, brat. Not because I’m a man,” he stopped that sentence there, for he feared if he’d continued, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from confessing how hard he’d fallen for you over the last eight years.

You took his continued silence as a sign that the conversation was over. He had slightly lessened the guilt constricting your heart as you returned to stitching up the gash. It would definitely leave a scar, since you weren’t exactly adept at using a needle and thread yet, but at least he wouldn't bleed out now.

Finishing the final stitch, you cut the thread with a small pocket knife, tossing the blade on the table whilst you reached for the small roll of bandages. You think Viper would be proud of your work.

“This is about as sterile as we’ll find down here,” you comment absentmindedly, stretching out the bandage and applying it over his shoulder and across chest to secure it. You tried to ignore the subtle blush dusting your cheeks as his hard muscle flexed beneath your touch. You tried to ignore the almost mouth watering sight of his shirtless body when you first entered the room. Fuck, you’d tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he took your hands. Tried to ignore how honest he looked.

You tried to ignore how much you’d fallen in love with him.

But Levi was nothing if not observant. He saw the gentle rose petals blooming across your face, smirking slightly to himself at your reaction. Maybe…

Just maybe…

You two could cross that line.

He found himself missing your presence so close to him when you pulled back to admire your work.

“There. All done. Don’t move it too much because if you pull those stitches, I will hold a knife to your throat and you will apologise,” Levi rolled his eyes at your empty threats, internally chuckling at how over dramatic you could be sometimes. “Oh, and rub this salve into it if it starts to hurt. It’s a herbal recipe, supposed to help numb pain,” you left the small tin tub on the table whilst you continued to repack your bag of the supplies Viper had gifted you.

Levi’s eyes followed your movements as you effortlessly reached for the second roll of untouched bandages on the table. It was such a simple movement, but the way your loose shirt untucked from your leather pants, showing just a teasing amount of skin, had him readjusting how he was sitting. Shit you were beautiful. Since you’d both been managing to gain somewhat of an income, you’d been able to afford more food. He marvelled in the way you’d filled out a bit, your own lithe frame rippling with muscle. Granted, you were still dangerously skinny, but that was to be expected down here.

Packing away the final set of stitches, you collapsed onto a chair, once again running a hand through your hair before cringing at the repeated action. You really needed to stop doing that, or your hair would go greasy.

Looking at the small fireplace kettle, you returned your gaze to Levi, who you noticed was still shirtless, and didn’t seem to have any interest in covering up anytime soon. You felt your face heat up for a second, before distracting yourself with something else.

“Tea? I feel like you could do with one,” you grinned playfully, already knowing he would say yes and rising from your seat.

Until you were forcefully shoved back down.

“I’ll get it. You’ve done more than enough,” Levi felt bad expecting you to make him tea as well, but you just didn’t know when to quit. Removing his hand from your shoulder, you stood up, now close enough to either kill him;

Or kiss him.

“Not happening. You almost bled out a few moments ago. I’m not letting you do anything, shortstuff,” you raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to challenge you. Which of course, he did. But not without smirking at the ironic nickname.

“I damaged my shoulder, brat. I’m not crippled. I can make tea for fuck sakes,” there was never really any malice when the two of you argued like this. It was a more playful back and forth.

It was only when the breath of your laugh reached his face did he realise how close you were and the two of you fell into a strangely comfortable silence, subconsciously admiring one another. Only, his view of your face was slightly obstructed.

Levi hesitantly brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, his hand hovering by the side of your neck. You could see nothing but admiration in his steely, maelstrom hues. Admiration, and something else you were sure you were reciprocating in your own gaze.

It was only then it occured to you.

And you didn’t know how’d you’d been so stupid to miss it.

Levi loved you.

Just as much as you loved him.

“I was worried about you today,” Levi murmured, prying apart the silence as his hand now rested comfortably on the side of your neck. He hadn’t missed what he’d seen in your eyes. A glassy reflection of his own feelings.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come back late. I just got caught up in some things,” your whisper carried so much tension he was tempted to grab the knife from the table and attempt to slice the air.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he opted to rest his other hand on your waist, gently pulling you closer to his body.

“Will you ever tell me where you disappear off to?” The question held no weight. He knew that if you wanted to tell him, you would. He also knew that you needed your privacy sometimes, and this was just one of those things you didn’t talk about. He just hated how his mind would race when you didn’t come back.

Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, pulse quickening to something you didn’t think possible as the hand on your waist caused goosebumps to prickle your skin. You learnt into his touch as his palm came up to cup your face, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek.

“One day, maybe,” you replied, your hand mimicking his own as you reached up slightly to smooth over his eyebrow, he in return mirrored your response, leaning into your touch. You stayed like this for what felt like years, until he spoke up again with a question that let loose all the caged butterflies in your stomach.

“(Y/N)... can I kiss you?”

Your lips parted as you let out a breath, unable to contain your smile of pure adoration as you nodded a little shyly.

“Yes,” Levi wasted no time. As soon as you managed to form a response, his lips were on yours. You gasped slightly against his mouth, arms moving on their own to wrap around the back of his neck and hold him close.

The hand on your waist extended to embrace your lower back as your lips moulded against one another.

Fuck, he’d dreamt of this moment for so long. And it was so much better than he ever imagined. Levi elicited a breathy moan as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore his mouth. Something he was all too eager to accept, eyes rolling as he felt your slick muscle brush against his.

Your hands travelled to thread through his hair as you subtly pushed him back to the chair he’d stood from. He seemed to get the hint, bringing you down with him as he sat, pulling you to straddle his lap.

You drew circles with your nails in his undercut, once again drawing another delightful, gravelly groan from his throat, lips still hungrily devouring his.

It was only until you felt his hardening manhood grind against your slickening folds did a thought occur to you, and you had no choice but to pull back.

“Shit, what about Isobel and Farlan?” it wasn’t a question he put much thought into answering, especially when you were scratching his undercut like that.

“Won’t be back for a few hours,” he mumbled, before reclaiming your mouth in an ever deepening kiss. You whimpered softly as he began to roam your body with his hands, grasping at your waist as you started to rock gently against his tented crotch, relishing the noises he made.

“Ah– (Y/N), sh-shit,” you peppered featherlight kisses along his jawline, stopping briefly to suck his earlobe into your mouth, his soft gasp only fueling your arousal.

His pants grew to whines as you moved down his neck, suckling and biting where you saw fit, leaving purple blemishes across his soft skin. His lengthy moan set your skin ablaze when you found his pulse point, licking a stripe up his neck before sucking on the sensitive spot.

By now, Levi was painfully hard. Wanting nothing more than to free his aching cock from it’s cloth prison. But you were the one in charge here, and he was more than happy to continue at your pace.

As long as you didn’t take too long.

He started thumbing the buttons on your shirt free, dragging it off your shoulders as you continued to leave marks along his collarbones. The clothing was quickly discarded, along with the bralet one of Viper’s escorts gifted you. Levi didn’t have time to admire your breasts within the delicate lace before it was thrown to the floor along with your shirt.

Pride swelled in Levi’s chest as you mewled against his skin, his hands gently kneading your now exposed mounds. He loved how your nipples instantly pebbled beneath his touch, rolling the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger, smirking at your hisses.

“Fuck, Levi– shit that feels good,” your praise only made him harder as you sat up, wanting to feel his mouth against yours again. But Levi had other plans.

As soon as you raised your head from the crook of his neck, Levi ducked down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You cried out, back arching into his touch, hips bucking involuntarily. Levi groaned against your breast, the vibrations only adding to the sensation.

Your hands once again found his hair, gently encouraging him to keep going, his own hand rolling your other bud.

Levi switched sides, showing your neglected mound the same kind of treatment, and you couldn’t stop the stream of breathy gasps and desperate whimpers as he showered your breasts in physical praise, making a mental note of every reaction you made to his touch.

Finally you grew impatient, wanting to show him as much love as he was showing you. Your hands withdrew from his hair and you almost laughed at his disappointed huff around your pebbled nipple.

“Don’t worry, I think you’ll like this more,” your voice wasn’t one you recognised. It was lower, breathier. You’d never heard yourself sound like this before.

But what almost broke your resolve was the sound of his voice, showing you just how much your actions had affected him.

“Oh? But I was rather enjoying myself. I think i’ll just continue doing– oh fuck,” Levi threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as you palmed his length through his pants. Shit, your mouth watered at the feel of him. Harder than steel and girthy. You briefly wondered how he tasted, that particular spark fueling your next movements.

Slowly sliding from his lap, you left a wet trail of kisses down his chest, careful to avoid the wound in his shoulder. Your lips nipped at each of his abs individually before continuing down to the prominent V in his naval, tongue caressing the small dips directing you down to your goal, Levi encouraging you every step of the way with his sharp breaths and small groans.

Pushing apart his knees, you settled in between his thighs, grinning slyly as he looked down at you, wide eyed. His expression settled for a moment, hand coming to rest against the side of your face.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m more than happy with how far we’ve gone today. I don’t want to force you into doing anything with me if you’re not ready,” your heart almost fell to pieces at the sound of his concerned, yet still gravelly voice. Your coy smile softened to something so genuine and loving, Levi thought he had died.

“Trust me, I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Levi,” you gently caressed his thighs, reassuring him that what you were doing, and what you were about to do, was something you’d longed for.

Levi’s smile was nothing short of angelic. He gently stroked your hair, and despite the heat of the moment, he still managed to make you feel so loved.

“Alright, but if you want to stop at any point, please tell me. I don’t want to make you feel obligated to carry on just because of me, okay?” you nodded happily at his words, giving his leg a small squeeze.

“I promise. Now shut up and let me suck your dick,” Levi laughed breathlessly, tilting up your chin as he leant down to capture your lips in a swift, affectionate kiss.

“You’re filthy,”

“Your fault,” you grinned, subtly fiddling with his belt.

“How is any of this my-ah fuck,” Levi cut himself off as he felt your hand gently grind on his length over his pants, the friction causing him to elicit the most gorgeous whimpers. You could definitely get addicted to the sounds he made.

“Nngh– shit, shitshitshit (Y/N) I– a-ah,” Levi stopped trying to form words as you slowly pulled down the offending clothing, leaving him in just his shorts, cock tenting painfully. You helped him kick his pants from his legs, joining the pile of clothes you’d made as you kept palming his dick. Neither of you had done anything like this before, both being too busy to engage in any sexual activity, but you felt like you already knew what to do. Acting off instinct, you adored his little shiver as you finally freed his length, your own folds slickening at the sight of his leaking manhood.

“Shit Levi, you’re gorgeous,” the compliment slipped out before you could rein it in, Levi’s cheeks heating slightly as your words reached his ears.

“Th-thank you,”

Your eyes took immediate interest in a rather prominent vein pulsing along the underside of his cock, and once again you couldn’t help but wonder how he tasted.

Levi couldn’t think straight. He’d touched himself before, jerking himself off when his hormones deemed it necessary, but he’d never felt anything like this. And when you took a hold of his length, he felt as if every nerve in his body had set alight. His eyes screwed shut instinctively, unable to suppress the breathy moan of ecstasy.

You started to slowly stroke up and down tentatively, watching the different expressions he made. You never thought he could look so needy, and yet here he was, mouth hanging open, brows knitted, eyes closed, a gentle flush dusting his cheeks. You smiled slightly at his breathless pants, taking note of how his breath hitched when you circled his leaking tip with your thumb, smearing his precum across his over his pulsing cock.

His hips bucked unapologetically, back arching into your touch as you squeezed him experimentally.

“Fuck…! Fucking— HAH, a-aah, oh my god… (Y/N), what’re you— FUCK… fuck, ‘feels so— nngh, feelssogood,” Levi’s words slurred as his head lolled back, sweat starting to bead on his brow. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, switching between gripping the table next to him and hovering around your head.

You hadn’t even taken him in your mouth yet, and he was already reacting so well to your touch. You watched him physically relax as you let him go, giving him some time to recover before you’d take it further.

“'M’gonna take you in my mouth, okay? Tell me if it’s too much or if you want me to slow down,” you rested your head against his inner thigh, admiring his fucked out expression as he nodded, his bangs sticking to the slick of his forehead. You could stare at him like this for hours, committing every part of his face to memory. But the temptation to show him how good you could make him feel was far too great.

Leaning forward, you gripped around the length of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip, relishing in the responsive jolt of his sensitive body. Shit you were wet, it was taking all of your willpower not to reach down and pleasure yourself. You knew your matching underwear was likely ruined, quickly lamenting the loss of such an expensive gift, but that thought was quickly extinguished as you ran your tongue along that delicious looking vein you’d clocked earlier.

“SHIT, oh fuck, ohfuckohfuckohfuck, (Y/N)... shit, (Y/NNNNN),” just as you thought your own arousal couldn’t grow any further, he whined your name and you almost came there and then. Smirking against his dick, you leant forward just a little more, and engulfed his tip in your mouth, slowly taking more of him.

Levi’s hips bucked into your warmth, unable to stop himself as his brain was completely consumed by the sheer, mind-shattering pleasure. He’d decided this was nothing like getting himself off. This was something completely different. This was on a whole other level.

When you had taken as much as you could of his length in your mouth, you started to bob up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back to suck on his tip, before engulfing him again.

You could have sworn he almost screamed.

“Aaa-ah, you’re… you’re so– nngh, so good at this, HAH-aah, w-wait, fuck, s-slow down. ‘M gonna’– AH, ‘m gonna’ cum,” you did as he asked, taking your mouth of his raging length, gently caressing the base with your thumb as you waited for his laboured breaths to calm.

“Take your time, baby. Let me know when you’re ready,” even in his foggy, aroused state, he was still able to squint down at you with a brow raised at the new pet name. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though, looking at your swollen, shining lips slick with your saliva and his pearly essence.

“Fuck (Y/N), you’re fucking stunning, look at you,” Levi tenderly held the side of your face, thumb smoothing over your eyebrow as he regarded you with such fondness. He hissed as you jerked his length in retaliation.

“Don’t be so cute, it’s not allowed whilst I’m sucking you off,”

“Technically you weren’t, you were waiting for me,”

“Oh is that how you want to do this?” you eyed him mischievously, and before Levi could even respond, you took his entire, swollen length down your throat, gagging a little at the intrusion before slowly getting used to him.

Whatever Levi was about to say died on his tongue as the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. He had no choice but to surrender to the pleasure threatening to shatter his mind, his mouth falling open as you swallowed around his sensitive tip.

“Shit…! Oh fuck, oh fuck, (Y/N)– nngh, haaah, ah, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t… don’t stop,” Levi panted, only just able to form cohesive words as you continue to take him down your tight, warm throat. He sandwiched his bottom lip between his teeth, biting almost hard enough to draw blood.

Tears started to line your lashes as you suppress your gag reflex, swirling your tongue along the underside of his length. Your eyes rolled back as his hands found your hair, not to push you onto him, but just so he didn’t completely lose himself in the pleasure.

The vibrations in the back of your throat as you moaned only heightened the sensation, and Levi wasn’t able to take much more.

“Hhhh, (Y-Y/N), m-move away, i’m -shit- i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna fucking cum!” but you didn’t move, instead opting to moan more wantanly, lapping at his cock and swallowing him down your throat, your hands coming up to rub and cup his rapidly tightening balls. His thighs began to shake as he came undone, back arching completely off the chair. His head was thrown back as you watched his Adam's apple bob through wet lashes.

“Ah, hnng– a-AH, FUCK (Y/NNN)!!” Levi came with a broken, desperate cry of your name on his lips, his salty seed shooting down your throat. His hands tightened in your hair, clinging on for dear life as you milked him through his orgasm, sucking him dry.

It wasn’t until he’d completely emptied himself into your mouth did he collapse back on the chair, breathing as if he’d just run a marathon.

You released him from your mouth with a pop, tenderly kissing his tip clean before rising to check the state of your partner.

“Levi?” you giggled, moving to carefully straddle his lap so you could take his face in your hands. He looked completely spent, head heavy as he lazily grasped your waist. “You alright?” you thought your question fell on deaf ears, until he cracked an eye open.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think you broke me,” you laughed at his tired, satisfied smile, brushing his sweat slickened locks from his forehead to lean against him.

“Was that okay?” you asked, searching his face for an answer. The grin he gave sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your already throbbing core.

“Are you serious? Yes, that was okay. That was more than okay. It was incredible,” he gently wiped away any salty tears from below your lash line. “You’re incredible,” Levi leant up to capture your lips in a tender, loving kiss. It didn’t quite have the same heat as earlier, it felt more fueled with adoring gratitude. You pulled back a fraction.

“Who knew you could be so vocal?” you teased with a lopsided smirk, earning yourself a small, playful nip on your lower lip followed by a low, breathy laugh rumbling from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up brat. Not like I won’t get you back,” you hadn’t noticed his hand had trailed down to the crease in your thighs until a bolt of pleasure shocked your system as he slowly pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. “Speaking of which…” –he whispered, dark eyes searching your own– “Would you mind if I repay the favour?” Levi didn’t give you time to respond before his head ducked down below your chin, licking a long, deliberate stripe up the column of your throat. He smiled against your skin as you began to rock your hips against his hand, moaning and gasping with each movement.

“Mmn, Levi,” you breathed his name like a secret, shivering as he decorated your neck and collarbones with red and purple blossoms, leaving his mark on you.

“I liked the sounds you made when I did this,” Levi’s hand left a trail of goosebumps as he travelled from your waist, up you naval to your breasts, the pads of his fingers rolling the pebbled buds. Your needy cry caused his fingers to grind harder on your clothed clit, increasing the speed as you threw your head back, the pleasure consuming you.

“Fuck…! Levi… ‘need more… ple-HAAH, please,” you whined, lamenting the loss of friction as he guided you to stand. Your confusion was short lived when he pulled you back down to straddle one of his thighs, hands gripping your waist and encouraging you to drag your hips against him in a steady rhythm. Levi snickered against your neck as you gripped his shoulders, grinding wantanly against his muscular leg.

“Feel good?” he asked, brushing your hair back behind your ears as you nodded eagerly, too busy whimpering to form words. He could feel your slick soak through the leather of your pants before making the executive decision that you were wearing far too many clothes for his liking.

Levi deftly unclasped the front of your belt, chuckling as you refused to stop chasing your high long enough for him to pull them down.

“(Y/N), you’re gonna need to move,” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine, heightening the blissful sensation of your knot rubbing against his thigh.

“Nngh– can’t… a-aah! Feels… feels too g-good,” you were so close. That coil in your lower stomach tightening and you knew any moment, with just the right movement, it would snap and you would release all over his thigh.

Or at least, it would have done, had his strong hands not stilled your hips.

“L-Levi?! What the fuck? I was right there,” you pouted as he gently lifted you from his lap, tugging down your pants.

You felt a flair of pride as his jaw dropped at your choice of underwear, the deep red, intricately laced material covering only the bare minimum, accentuating the curve of your hips and the lean muscle of your legs.

If only you’d kept the bralet on. You’d give anything to see his expression when you rocked the set together.

“Fuck…” he breathed, standing from the chair and reaching for you as you kicked the pants from your legs. You smirked, seeing his length hardening once again.

“Hmm, like what you see?” you stepped back like a sly vixen, motioning him to come closer with a provocative finger. You saw his dick twitch in response.

“I’m going to fucking devour you,” your breath hitched in your throat as he caged you against the wall with his arms, his mouth hovering by your ear, soft whisper tickling your neck before it was replaced with his tongue sucking against your pulse point. You arched into his touch, smiling as he tried unsuccessfully to repress the small groan when your hips ground against his cock, your own clothed sex throbbing at the touch.

You’d completely forgotten about his hands until they travelled round to cup your ass, squeezing and moulding the cheeks in his palms. Your gasp spurred him on, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist, both moaning as you came ever closer to each other.

Levi held you against the wall, still nipping and biting at the flesh on your neck, sucking sweet bruises into the skin. Hoisting you up with one forearm, he let the other skirt between you, the pads of his fingers finding a home against your damp folds.

“Shit you’re soaked. You’ve completely ruined these, (Y/N),” he teased, gently rubbing your clit not nearly enough for you to find your high, but enough to coerce the most delicious moans from your throat.

“Mmn, worth it,” you grinned, head tilted upwards as he attacked the hollow of your throat with his mouth. His laugh fluttered against your neck, your hands finding purchase in his inky locks.

“C’mere you,” Levi’s playful tone went straight to your heart as he held you against him, carrying you from the wall. His arms braced under your ass as you leaned down to capture his mouth, lips moving in sync against each other.

You hadn’t noticed he’d carried you into his room until you both fell amongst the bed covers, his body covering yours.

You lay there, panting, looking up into those eyes you’d come to adore. The smile so rare you sometimes didn’t think he even could. You certainly didn’t think it would be so beautiful. Your hand came up to cup his face, chest warming as he nuzzled into the touch.

“Hey,” he breathed, kissing the heel of your palm.

“Hey,” you replied with a soft laugh.

“Bye,” you looked at him, your expression puzzled at the response.

“Wha– FUCK!” your hips arched as his fingers once again dipped between your thighs, sandwiching and rubbing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, his head trailing kisses down your front, pausing briefly to pay attention to your breasts before continuing south.

His fingers hooked over your waistband and Levi looked up at you for permission as he settled between your thighs. You smiled at his continued show of chivalry, nodded in confirmation before the cool air caressed your swollen pussy.

Levi must have forgotten how to breathe. That must be why he felt so lightheaded. Why his heart was beating so hard. Why his mind was reeling.

“God, look at you (Y/N), you’re perfect,” if you weren’t so goddamn aroused, you might have shed a tear at the compliment. You’d never had anyone say anything like that to you before. You’d never had anyone call you stunning, or pretty, or perfect. He made you feel so special.

And so fucking good.

Smirking slightly to himself, Levi turned to your inner thigh, biting gently at the supple, soft muscle and relishing how you squirmed eagerly beneath his touch. He was teasing you, and you were growing rather impatient.

But he couldn’t help it. He’d dreamt of this for so long he wanted to savour the moment. Wanted to remind himself that this wasn't a dream. He’d loved you for so long, and he couldn’t even fathom the elation now he knows that you love him back. The sweet scent of your dripping folds pulled him back to reality, like a siren beckoning him to a watery death, he let your essence pull him in, before the tip of his nose rested on the pearl of your clit.

His hands dragged up your thighs, gently kneading the sensitive flesh. He stayed like that for what felt like far too long, until everything happened at once. Throwing your legs over his shoulder, Levi’s tongue lapped a strong, solid line through your centre, sending your mind reeling.

“Aaaah…! Yes, Levi, Levi…!” Levi’s mind could have been a crime investigation blackboard. Making a mental note of every single reaction you were making. The buck of your hips when he kisses your folds. The arch of your back when he suckles on your clit. The hitch in your breath as his fingers came up to slowly tease your soaking entrance. Levi pulled back slightly, peering up at you and honestly, you almost lost control at the sight of him.

His mouth and chin dripping with your juices, pupils blown with pure, hungry desire. You parted your lips to comment on the delightful sight, but were cut off by the rogue moan he dragged from your throat, his fingers gently rubbing your clit, slowly travelling further south until you felt them circling your aching hole. Nerves gently bubbled through your stomach. You’d heard what the prostitutes and escorts said about a woman’s first time. You knew it was going to hurt, if the two of you went that far tonight. You knew it wasn’t going to be amazing the first time.

Levi also seemed to know.

“Hey, I’m not expecting anything after this, okay? I just want to pay you back for earlier, and make you feel… well, good. We can stop if you want,” you whined slightly at the loss of friction against your sensitive bud, but you couldn’t deny the reassurance calming your suddenly beating heart.

“Stop now and I’ll never give you head again,” you grinned, but he could see the sincerity and gratitude behind your mischievous eyes. You wanted this, and he was more than happy to provide.

“Order received,” he chuckled, before returning his mouth to your waiting pussy.

“Fuck, yes…! Yesyesyesyes HAA-AH, L-Levi…! Right there, fuck, fuck! Yes, right there,” Levi smirked as you whined his name, realising he’d never heard a sweeter sound.

Maybe the bubble of your laughter at a close second.

That same scandalous finger still rubbing patterns into your now throbbing clit, bringing you closer to your high. His other hand once again returning to your wanton hole, gently massaging your folds as his tongue darted into your entrance, dragging a long needy moan from your mouth.

Levi gently eased his finger into your waiting heat, his eyes rolling at how tight you were. He loosened a groan as he ground his now seeping length into the sheets below, the vibrations from his mouth almost enough to send you over the edge if you weren’t clenching at the strange intrusion.

As if sensing your slight discomfort, Levi latched onto the hood of your clit and sucked, relishing in the desperate cry of his name as the pad of his fingertip started rubbing against your walls.

The clench of discomfort soon turned to a flutter of pleasure as you adapted to having someone touch you so intimately. You started to understand why some women enjoy this, and more so when Levi twisted his wrist, hooking his fingers up and brushing against that spongy spot hidden deep within your folds almost by accident. He was worried he’d hurt you, your reaction was so sudden, but your loose string of breathless moans put him at ease.

“SHIT, there, stay… Nngh, AAH, stay there… that feels, yes…! That feels so good Levi,” you threw your head back against the pillow in utter ecstasy as he continued to massage that spot, easing anothing finger in to add to the now heightened pleasure. Whilst you felt both fingers inside of you, there was no discomfort as his tongue continued to swirl around your pearl.

This was his favourite part. Whilst having you kneeling between his thighs and shattering his control was indescribable, nothing could compare to the pleasure he felt whilst eating you out like a starved man. Fuck it felt good to make you feel good. Levi couldn’t stop his constant stream of whispered groans as his cock contiued to weep precum at the mere realisation he was wedged between your legs, feasting on your sex. He continued to grind against the mattress, feeling his own release start to tighten.

Quickening the pace of his working fingers, you couldn’t decipher the pattern Levi was lapping with his tongue, moving in what you thought was random zig-zags against your almost overstimulated clit.

You felt your thighs start to shake, moans escalating into high pitched, breathy pants as the coil in your stomach tightened to the point of snapping, quivering with tension.

“I’m gonna– fuuuuck…! Levi, Lev-Levi, I'm gonna cum… Yes, oh fuck yes, YES FUCK oh– LEVIIII!” with the continued ‘come here’ motion and mind numbing pace of his fingers against your g-spot and a final, long suck of your clit, you completely came undone with a desperate, lengthy scream of his name. Knuckles draining white with your iron grip on the sheets, your thighs locked around his head as your back arched completely off the bed.

It was all Levi needed to find his own release, hearing you chant his name like a prayer and feeling you convulse around his fingers and gush around his face was enough for him to spill all over the bedsheets, a small needy whine fluttering from his muffled mouth, devoured by your leaking cunt.

You two stayed like that for a moment as you both came down, Levi allowing you to catch your breath before being forced to tap on your thighs to release him, the clamp around his head easing.

“As happy as I would be suffocated between your legs, I don’t think I want to die quite yet,” Levi’s gravelly, gently teasing voice brought your back down from whatever elysium your mind had wandered off to, feeling his breath against your face. Your eyes peeled open, too fucked out to widen completely at the state of his face. Pearly white translucent essence lathered his lips and chin, bathing him in a glossy coat until he wiped it away with his other hand.

“What the fuck was that pattern? The one with your tongue?”

“Something I thought of on the spur of the moment. L-E-V-I, A-C-K-E-R–” your giddy giggle cut him off, hand pushing his face to the side playfully.

“Okay okay I get it, you’re utterly filthy and possessive.”

“Well, I had to leave my mark on you somehow.”

“As if the marks on my neck don’t exist.”

“Oh, they do. I’ll be spelling my name like that next time,” you gaped at his cocky smirk, unable to believe this was the same man you’d spent years living with.

As if inspecting your release on the tips of his fingers, he went to suck them clean in his mouth, but you were suddenly much faster. Grabbing his wrist, you brought his hand to your face, engulfing his fingers and swirling your tongue around the soft pads.

Levi’s eyes widened, a brow raised in incredulous disbelief.

“You brat, that was mine,” he huffed against your neck, looking at his hand with a pout as you took his fingers out your mouth with a small suck.

“Hmm, I don’t taste too bad,” you mused with a smirk, hoping to get some sort of rise out of him.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to roll to the side, pulling you into his chest so you had to angle your head up to peer into his now soft, grey eyes.

“You taste divine, firefly,” your heart skipped a beat at the nickname he’d only called you twice before.

“Why do you call me that? Don’t get me wrong, I love it but– why?” you murmured, snuggling into his warmth as much as you could whilst still being able to look into his loving gaze.

Levi stayed quiet for a moment, almost as if he were contemplating something, before gently tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

“Because you’re a light, (Y/N). I was in a shit place, and you were a light. From the day I met your scrawny ass. You shone like some weird, feisty little beacon. You’re my firefly in the dark,” Levi was never good with words. Shit, he didn’t know how many times he’d rehearsed that little explanation, ready for the day when you would inevitably ask, and even then he still got it wrong. There was so much more he wanted to say. How you guided him forward. How you bathed him in your glow. You were so much more than his beacon.

You were his whole heart and soul.

You had been for a while.

Tears lined your eyes. You certainly weren’t expecting that. You weren’t expecting something so tender, even after your lovemaking. You weren’t expecting to see the raw, unwavering devotion in his eyes as he spoke such soft, soulmending words. His arms tightened around your waist as you nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his fresh, sweat musked scent.

You were both tired, content from you finding your highs in each other. Administrating pleasure for one another.

You were both happy with how far things had gone.

Then why were you both still awake?

Levi felt you lashes flutter intermittently against his collarbones, his only indication that you joined him in consciousness.

Neither of you said anything. You didn’t have to. Raising your head from his neck, the unspoken want reflected in his own eyes. Your lips joined his, gently moulding against one another in a gentle, passionate kiss. Wordlessly, he rolled on top of you, caging you against the bed with his arms either side of your head as his mouth moved against yours.

“Do you want this?” Levi pulled back just far enough to murmur, his lips still ghosting your own. Your hands found his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you nodded, looking deeply into those stormy eyes, blue and silver swirling seamlessly within his irises.

“I want you, Levi. Always you,” you responded, leaning back up to close the miniscule gap between you. One of your hands travelled down his back, skirting round his hips to his half hard length. You giggled cheekily at his muffled groan when you took him in your hand again, slowly pumping as he continued to harden. You wanted this. More than anything, you wanted him to claim you, and you wanted to claim him. You belonged to each other.

Levi lined himself up with your folds, shivering as his tip grazed your wetness.

“Last chance to say no before I take your virginity,” there was nothing but sweet sincerity in his hushed voice, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

You masked your nervousness by raising a cocky brow, a lopsided smirk pulling at your lips.

“Right back at you, handsome,” you replied, but Levi could see right through you. Though your tone put him at ease slightly, he could still tell you were anticipating what was to come.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. I’d never deliberately hurt you, (Y/N),” Levi lowered himself to recapture your lips, hoping to take some of your mind off the pain as he began to ease himself into your slick folds. You were thankful he’d stretched you somewhat with his fingers, but it wasn’t quite enough to quell the pained hiss you elicited as he slowly filled you. He would pause his movements at every sharp inhale, patiently waiting for you to accommodate his girth. It actually helped him as well, the overwhelming pleasure of your walls tightening around his cock almost enough to send him over the edge for the third time. He felt guilty for enjoying it, knowing you were in a lot of discomfort.

“I’ve got you firefly. I’ve got you. You’re doing so well, we’re almost there, I promise, take as long as you need, I’ve got you,” he cooed reassuring encouragement in your ear, letting you know there was no pressure on you. You relaxed a little, feeling the pain ease a tad as you did.

Levi felt your muscles loosen a fraction, and relief washed over him at the mere thought of you feeling a little more comfortable. Still, he refused to move until he’d heard you give him the go-ahead. You were dictating this, and he was once again more than happy to go at your own pace.

“Okay… okay. You okay?” you opened an eye to look up at his strained expression, slightly concerned he wasn’t enjoying it. You knew it would get better for you, but there was no point in continuing if he wasn’t feeling good either. But that thought was quickly extinguished when he nodded slightly erratically.

“Yeah, more than okay. I should be asking you that,” your small, huffed amusement was music to his ears.

“Go on then,” you smiled mischievously, almost forgetting about the tearing pain between your thighs. Your calmed, comfortable demeanor soothed his guilt ridden heart as he smiled fondly.

“You okay?” he gave you an eskimo kiss, gently nuzzling his nose against yours.

“More than okay,” you replied, copying his own response with an earnest grin. “You can keep going, by the way. Sorry, I should have said that sooner,” you smiled, looking away a little sheepishly. He hated how you thought that way. Hated how, even now, you weren’t thinking about yourself. He swept away your expression with a quick peck to your lips.

“No, you shouldn’t have. I want to move with you. This is all about you, don’t worry about me,” you could have cried at his words, feeling his lips against your neck. “You feel amazing,” he whispered, grasping the sheets as he continued to fill you to the hilt. You hissed again, but the pain was lessening to a dull throb now, his entire length sitting snug within your walls.

You both paused again, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being so full.

“Everything alright?” you could have chuckled at the obvious restraint in his voice, heart warming knowing he was doing everything he could to make you feel as comfortable as possible. You loved how he continued to need reassurance.

“Yeah, all good. You can move now baby,” Levi looked back at you, wide eyed and stunned.

“Are you sure? You don’t need more time? I can wait, I don’t want you to think–” he couldn’t finish his sentence before your lips crashed against his, your hips bucking as you feasted on his mouth. His eyes rolled at the friction and you swallowed the groan escaping his lips as he began to pull out, only to slowly thrust back in, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your gummy walls gripping and massaging his length.

“Fuck… god you feel so good,” he moaned, having to remove his mouth from yours in favour of breathing. You gasped quietly, raising your legs to wrap around his waist, encouraging his hips to roll deeper. The pain had been completely replaced by a unique pleasure you’d never felt before.

“Yes… Levi, shit, yes…!” Your breathy moans fueled his gentle thrusts, keeping the pace steady and rhythmic. It worked perfectly for both of you, especially when the tip of his cock grazed the same spot you were sure his fingers were grinding against earlier.

“There! L-Levi, right there, yes oh fuck!” you whined, rolling your hips to meet his. Levi stilled, allowing you to grind yourself on his length, your mouth falling open as he continued to rub against your g-spot, the spongy texture enveloping his leaking tip.

“(Y/N), a-aah,” Levi gave up on forming words for the second time that night, loosening a lengthy, gravelly groan into your ear. You whimpered as he started to thrust again, picking up the tempo as the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure of each other’s bodies.

He kept the angle the same, heatedly relishing in the high pitched moans with each well placed thrust.

“M-more, Le-vi, Levi, ‘need more,” your heels dug into the small of his back as if he would pull away. Snaking his hand between you, your hips bucked wildly as he started to circle your clit with his first two fingers.

“Yes, yes, FUCK, yes, shit (Y/N),” he couldn’t stop the stream of breathy grunts as your walls contracted around him, sucking him deeper than he ever imagined. “Does it– nngh– does it feel g-good?” he asked, as if you could find a voice with which to reply. Miraculously, you managed to nod frantically, uttering a guttural “yes” as his thrusts swiftened to something a little rougher, encouraged by your continued string of curses, his hips now pounding into you. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the continued squelching of his cock entering you repeatedly only heightened the sensation as you walls began to clench, you high fast approaching with the repeated rubbing of your clit and g-spot. Your nails began to claw against his back, scratching lines of fire against his skin.

“Levi... LEVI! Fuck… fuck... I’m gon-na cum. D-don’t stop, feelssogood…!”  

“Yeah? C-cum then. Cu– fuck, cum for me,”

“A-ah, Levi, yes… YES…! LEVIIII…!” Levi’s breath hitched as you held him in a vice grip, his eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as you came around his dick, back bowed in an arch, eyes closed as your orgasm washed over you in waves Your thighs shuddered and tightened around his hips as he fucked you through you high, fingers still blurring against your pearled bud until overstimulation shattered through your nerves, muscles twitching and clamping as he continued to find his own high.

“Shit…! Shit, oh fuck… Fuck, i’m so close, (Y/N) I’m s-so– so close, ha-ah…! Nngh, i’m gonna– oh fuck, yes… yes fuck…! Imgonnacum, (Y/N)... aa-aah, fuck (Y/N)!” Levi only just managed to pull out before he came across your abs, groaning desperately as his hips bucked into your lower stomach. You reached down through your own fucked out haze to grasp his cock, milking him through his orgasm much like you did early on in the night. Thumb grazing circles across his overly sensitive tip.

“Fuck, (Y/N) stop, ‘s too much… p-please,” you grinned against his neck as he collapsed on top of you, his face turning to the side as he fell between your shoulder and the pillow, panting against your skin.

You both refused to move, limbs too heavy to even think about cleaning up right now.

“Fuck… that was good,” you breathed, arms coming to drape across his marked back. It was only then you realised how painful it looked. “Levi! Oh my god I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” you asked, gently caressing the now raised lines across the muscles on his shoulders and back, hoping to soothe what you had done. He huffed a chuckle at the concern in your tone. If only you knew how much he’d loved feeling you draw white hot lines into his skin.

“Don’t be. I’m fine, I kinda liked it,” he confessed, tilting his head up to look into your shimmering, concerned eyes. (E/C) irises that quickly swirled with cheeky intent. You poked his forehead fondly, raising a brow.

“You little masochist,” your teasing tone made him lift his heavy body off yours, holding his weight a little shakily on his elbows as he leaned down to kiss you gently, his tongue brushing effortlessly against yours.

“Mmm, it was rather good wasn’t it?” he smirked against your lips as you scoffed.

“Rather? Says the man who the neighbours will be complaining about for the next god-knows-how-long. I think even those shit eating nobles above ground heard you,” you teased, smoothing over his eyebrow, his eyes rolling dramatically as he bunched up the sheet to gently wipe his seed from your abdomen.

“Okay fine, it was really good. But you know, you weren’t exactly silent yourself, right?” you’d never get bored of this banter between you. Never get tired of the amused spark in his dark irises, the slight quirked pull of his lips.

“Shut up,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against your neck when you couldn’t keep up the feigned annoyance on your face. He chuckled into the dip between your neck and shoulder before the two of you fell silent, content to bask in each other’s comforting warmth.

“You need to go pee,” and maybe it was his flat delivery breaking the serene silence, but that one sentence broke you. You exploded into fits of laughter, head thrown back in hilarity. Levi looked up in bewilderment, puzzled by your sudden reaction. But you had a certain contagious spark to your laughter, and he found himself joining you in your amusement. You couldn’t tell whether it was the release of all the sexual tension between you, or whether it was the elating realisation that you belonged to each other. Whether it was the relief of finally physically admitting your mutual attraction, or something completely different, but you found yourself unable to stop the bubbles of happiness from escaping your chest, even when you’d calmed down a little.

Levi too managed to control his hiccups of mirth, at least enough to ask you a one word question.

“What?”

You adored the way he looked at you and you were sure only one other person had ever seen him look like that before.

“Nothing, you’ve always got my wellbeing at the front of that beautiful mind of yours, haven’t you?” your hands carded through his hair as he rolled his eyes again. You could tell he was trying to school his smile back to neutral, but found himself unable when faced with your grinning visage.

“Shut up and go pee brat, I’ll clean up here,” Levi reluctantly rolled off you, pulling you up with him because he knew you wouldn’t have moved otherwise. You were shaky on your legs and he held your arms until you’d regained your strength before sending you off with a quick peck on your lips, something you tried to deepen but he caught on to your antics disappointingly quickly. “Go, you insatiable minx,” you laughed again as he gently pushed you, not before glancing at your gorgeous physique.

“Oi, stop checking me out,” you grinned over your shoulder as you left the room to do as he said.

It didn’t take him very long to strip the bed and change the sheets, finding some spare cloth and cases to drape over the bare mattress and pillows, bundling up the dirty bed clothes and dumping them in a small basket to be washed All before you wandered back in. Levi could see how tired you looked as you made a beeline for him, not quite with the same savvy confidence as you had five minutes ago, the night’s activities finally catching up with you. He couldn’t say he felt any different.

“C’mere beautiful,” he sighed as you collapsed into his chest. Levi tightened his arms around your body, pulling you to the bed with him.

Lying down on the fresh sheets, he tucked you closer into his chest, a smile pulling at his lips as you wrapped your tired arms around him.

As if he would ever leave you.

Tilting his head down, he pressed a delicate kiss to your hair, smiling against the faint scent of his soap you usually used.

“I love you, Levi,” Levi’s breath hitched at the three words he’d longed to hear you say. Never in his entire Underground existence did he think he could ever be this happy. The thought provoked a rogue tear to slide down his cheek.

When he’d regained some of his composure, realising he hadn’t moved or even breathed for a little too long,  his legs shifted to tangle with yours, simply wanting to feel you against him.

“I love you too, firefly,” he felt your soft, relieved smile against his neck as you both settled into each other, drifting off into one of the longest sleep either of you had managed in a very, very long time. At some point he’d rolled the two of you over, facing his back to the door, caging you in and instinctively protecting you against the horrors that lay outside those four walls.

Neither of you woke when Isobel and Farlan returned to the house in complete disarray.

Isobel immediately suspected what had happened judging by the plethora of discarded clothing and bundled white sheets in the wash basket.

“Oh my god, Farlan look! Is bro okay? Wait, are they both okay?! Look at (Y/N)’s neck!” Isobel gawked in slightly scared awe at her brother and his childhood friend. Well, lover now, they supposed, if the scratches on his back and the hickeys on your neck were anything to go by.

“How long do you think they’ve been knocked out like this?” the taller, sandy haired man asked, raising a brow to the girl as they leant on the doorframe, both looking at your sleeping, barely covered forms.

“Honestly? Beats me. Took them long enough though. If they didn’t fuck soon I would have thrown myself out the window. You could smell the sexual tension between those two,”

“That’s gross, Issy,” Isobel giggled at Farlan’s disapproving look, the dirty blonde clipping the back of her head as he leaned forward to shut the door, giving the two of you privacy.

Levi had been semi-coherent. Too tired and comfortable to throw either of them one of his glares, the sleeping bundle in his arms had softened him to the point of gooeyness. He smiled contently against your head.

Honestly, he couldn’t blame Isobel.

If you two hadn’t done something soon…

He would have thrown himself out the window alongside her.

꧁ꨄ꧂

“So, you did know her?” Levi tried to trace the steps he took that led up to this exact situation. He was always about no regrets, but shit, if he wasn’t starting to have a few. Sitting opposite his Commander, an ankle crossed over his knee, arms folded defensively, occasionally leaning forwards to take sips from his small cup of tea he’d managed to bring with him before being almost dragged into the blonde’s office.

He rolled his eyes, setting down his teacup once again, his arms returning to their positions against his chest.

“No. I already told you,” he’d insisted on keeping up this charade of ignorance, not knowing what it would do to either of you if anyone found out. Although he knew it was useless lying to him, Erwin would inevitably find out sooner or later.

The man across his face rubbed his palm against the side of his face in slight frustration, eyes closing as he took a calming breath. Levi almost felt sorry for him. He knew Erwin was under a lot of constant stress, and he knew he was contributing to that stress right now. If it was about anyone else, he would have caved in sooner. But this was you, and he would go to the ends of the earth to protect you.

“Levi… this is serious. If you know her, I need to know. It could help us protect her–”

“Protect her? Against what? I thought the MPs were done with her now,” Levi’s façade slipped slightly as worry invaded his normally rational mind. Erwin raised a thick eyebrow, clearly noting Levi’s change of tone.

“Just because they’re done with her doesn’t mean they won’t fight to get their way. She killed a lot of their soldiers, Levi. It’s only natural they would want to harm her, and we can only offer so much protection to the criminals we seem to be accumulating,” Erwin explained cautiously, as if realising Levi was a ticking time bomb, and any wrong move could set him off. But the shorter man decided against exploding at that comment, too fixated on the idea you could be harmed further.

“But you struck a deal with Niles, right? Aren’t you commanders supposed to honour deals like that?” the ravenette asked with no small degree of irritation in his tone. Erwin seemed to be slowly understanding what was going on. It was becoming more obvious that Humanity’s Strongest Soldier was perhaps more than familiar with The Raven.

“Levi, please. Who was she to you? An associate? Business partner? A friend? A lover?” Levi’s jaw flickered at the last suggestion, telling the Commander all he needed to know. “Really?” there was no judgement in his voice, only genuine, surprised curiosity. He didn’t think Levi even had it in him to love another, especially since he’s lost so many.

“Tch, so what?” might as well admit to it now he’d already guessed. Levi’s heart clenched with guilt, already trying to formulate some sort of plan. He didn’t know why there would be any repercussions to the two of you having a relationship years ago, but he didn’t doubt there would be. There always seemed to be.

“No, nothing, I’m just… surprised if I’m honest. You’ve never mentioned her before,” Erwin seemed genuinely, innocently interested, rather than that usual tone he took when he was fishing for information. Levi relaxed a tad, reaching for his teacup and taking a good, long sip, providing himself time to think.

“It was a very long time ago now… We haven’t seen each other in a decade or so,” he admitted quietly over the rim of his teacup, attempting to hide his face behind his hand.

“Do you still love her?” Levi almost choked on his tea at the sudden, incredibly personal question. The obvious answer was yes. Yes, he still loved you. He never stopped loving you. He only realised how much he really did still love you when he saw you again.

“No,” his response wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be, and true to his perceptive nature, Erwin noted his hesitancy.

“I think we’re well past lying now, don’t you think?” Erwin smiled gently, now knowing why this was always such a sensitive subject for Levi. Why he stormed into his office the other day demanding to talk to him. Why he was so beside himself about your treatment.

That was his past lover.

Levi sighed, placing the teacup back on the desk before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“It’s more complicated than that,”

“It’s a yes or no question Levi,”

“What’s it to you, Eyebrows? Pretty sure my answer doesn’t dictate whether she’s safe or not just because The Raven is an ex to one of your captains,” the venom in his voice was tamed by his obvious fatigue. Erwin could only imagine how much of a toll this had taken on the ravenette.

“No. It doesn’t. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come to your friends about something like this, Levi. She’s–” Erwin cut himself off, internally debating the best way to go about this. “She’s somebody important to you. Incredibly important, if your little display the other demonstrated anything,” Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue at the remark.

“I just don’t want her to get hurt. More than she already has,” it was strange seeing Levi, a man Erwin had known to be incredibly stoic and in control seem so vulnerable. It was strange to think Levi had any weaknesses. But the blonde supposed every man had a weakness. Even him.

However if Levi didn’t want her to get hurt, then he should have spoken up before Erwin struck a deal with the MPs to let her join the Scouts.

“Levi… She's a Scout now. It’s highly likely she’s going to get hurt on expeditions,”

“I KNOW THAT,” Erwin raised his brows at the sudden, raised tone, not expecting something quite that desperate to come from Levi, the smaller man now refusing to make eye-contact. “I know that,” he repeated quietly. It was obvious he was in a difficult situation.

“Then I'll ask you again. Do you still love her?” Erwin’s tone was ever patient, something Levi appreciated as he sat in silence before answering, once again unable to meet Erwin’s piercing gaze.

“Yes. Yes I do. I didn’t stop. I never stopped loving her,” Erwin’s expression softened at Levi’s words, leaning his chin against his intertwined fingers, his elbows resting on the desk.

“Does she know that?”

“Fuck sakes Erwin, are you seriously giving me dating advice?” Levi raised what could have been an amused brow, if only the seriousness of the conversation didn’t convert it into something of irritation. He couldn’t deny this conversation had gone better than he could have expected. He didn’t expect his Commander to be so supportive of a relationship between his Strongest Soldier and The Raven. But, he supposed, as much as he hated to admit it, Erwin was one of his closest friends. And his hearty chuckle only exaggerated that fact.

Annoyingly.

“No. No I’m not. I’m not one to give such advice,” another silence settled between the two men, before Erwin spoke up again. “What would you like to do about this?” he asked, willing to let Levi have some say in how his ex lover was treated within the Scouts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how would you like to oversee her training? From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t respond well to… authority,” god, talking about this it was akin walking on a sleeping titan, not knowing what would suddenly jolt it awake enough to lunge and bite. This was more Hange’s field than anything, knowing Levi had a strange soft spot for the scientist. Not that he would ever admit it.

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s… well… Yes, she’s difficult. And yes, she doesn’t like authority. And yes, she’s perfectly capable of kicking the shit out of any of us whilst eating a salad as she did it but she’s not impossible. You just have to know how to… work her,”

“Sounds like you do,”

“Watch it.”

“Apologies. That was inappropriate,” Levi could tell there was nothing apologetic about Erwin’s tone. And he couldn’t deny that it was rather funny, conveying his thoughts with a less spiteful eye roll.

Eyebrows’ eyebrows furrowed in thought, wondering who should survey your training, and who’s squad you should join after.

“I can have Miche take her through ODM maintenance, he should–”

“No point. She knows how those things work better than you or I. She was the one who sold to us,”

“Without your knowledge?” Levi stayed awkwardly quiet for a moment.

“She was wearing a mask…”

“Seriously?”

“It’s dark down there, okay? We couldn’t fucking see her face,” Levi spat, only adding to Erwin’s humerous disbelief. “Anyway, she doesn’t need to be taught that shit. She already knows it. She just needs to be taught how to use it. But she’s a fast learner. If she doesn’t surpass Miche’s kill count in her first two weeks I'll be extremely surprised,” Erwin smiled subtly as Levi kept singing your praises, seemingly unable to stop himself from aggressively gushing about how fantastic you were.

“You seem confident,”

“I am.”

“Why?” The question caught him off guard. Why? Because it was you. He was always confident when it came to you. He could always trust you with anything because he knew you.

Or… at least…

He did.

“Look, I know you’re usually the one asking me to trust you, but just this once, trust me,” Erwin had already made the decision to trust Levi on this one. He seemed to know you better than anyone, even if he had just avoided the question.

“I was going to anyway, but alright. Miche for ODM, Hange for titan theory–”

“Terrible idea, but continue,”

“And she can join the rest of the soldiers for hand to hand. Does that suit you?” Levi couldn’t quite understand why Erwin was being so lenient with this.

“I don’t give you orders. If that’s how it is, that’s how it’ll be,” the raven haired man folded his arms once again, leaning back in his chair.

“Levi, I’m trying to be accommodating about this,” Erwin huffed, growing ever more tired with the Captain’s attitude.

“Why? Just treat her like any other cadet,”

“Honestly? Because I don’t want you to be in a constant foul mood if something goes wrong with her training,” Levi scoffed, averting his eyes from Erwin.

“Fine. Yes, that suits me. Whether it’ll suit her or not… that’s a different question altogether,” Levi’s subtle, fond smile didn’t escape Erwin’s ever-searching gaze, the man picking up on all of Levi’s tells.

“Very well. She can join Captain Francis’ squad as a temporary fix until we see where she would fit in–”

“That man’s a waste of air and you know it,” Levi really was behaving like a petulant child, huffing and folding his arms with every idea he disagreed with.

“Whilst yes, I agree with you, he’s also another Captain. You should probably treat him like one,”

“I don’t see him here with us, do you?”

“Levi…” Erwin warned lowly. Though he did sometimes enjoy the smaller man’s sarcastic quips, now wasn’t the time for such things. Before Levi could respond to the warning however, Erwin continued swiftly. “So, you’ll oversee her training?”

“Didn’t I just say that was a bad idea?”

“I find myself disagreeing with you.”

“Tch, fine. ``We done here?” he asked, tapping his foot impatiently as if he’d been waiting to ask that question throughout their entire meeting. Erwin sighed, trying so hard not to roll his own eyes before nodding and waving a hand. But before Levi could even open the door, he was stopped.

“Levi… What's her name?” Erwin asked, peering at him as if he could see right through him. Levi’s expression softened, thinking back to when she asked him to refer to her with her name rather than her alias.

“(Y/N),” he spoke your name as if saying it any louder would shatter it, the delicacy in his tone so unlike the Levi Erwin had come to know. “But call her Raven until she tells you. Hate to say it, but you wouldn’t stand a chance if she decides you have a target on your back,” that alien fondness returned to Levi’s expression, as if he wasn’t talking about his ex lover possibly murdering his commander.

“I’ll take your word for it. Thank you Levi, for being honest with me. I know there’s more to say, but I'm sure you’d rather rest than talk to me about it,” the offer was there, Levi knew it was. He knew Erwin was offering to help sort through his thoughts with him, but he needed time to…

Adjust to this new normal.

So instead he hummed non-comitally and bid the Commander goodnight.

“Night Erwin, don’t strain yourself too hard thinking about this,” it was his way of saying he was grateful for Erwin’s support. Levi always had his own special way of saying things like this.

Erwin couldn’t respond before Levi was already closing the door behind him.

꧁ꨄ꧂

Warm shower. No, hot shower. Fuck it, scalding shower. Levi kept turning up the temperature, the showerhead gurgling with each twist. He usually found, when nothing else could calm his nerves or soothe his head, a scalding shower and a hot tea worked the trick. But every part of him was alight tonight. His body, his mind.

His heart and soul.

His entire being crackled with some sort of energy he hadn’t felt in a while. He recognised it. Of course he did. It was the same energy he’d feel whenever you’d return home from your strange trips away, which he now knew was Viper teaching you how to survive. Was that how you knew how to stitch his wound that night? Was that how you knew how to effectively apply a bandage, how to suture and sew? That night when he’d stumbled through the door to find the house empty. When he’d sat at the table, silently begging you to come back just so he could see you again. Just so he would stop worrying.

That night when he’d first kissed you.

There were a lot of firsts that night, he remembered fondly. The first kiss, the first touch. The first time he’d heard you moan his name. The first time he moaned yours.

The first time he’d felt such utter pleasure, when your tongue swirled around his tip and your lips lapped at his vein. When your throat massaged his length and he spilled into your mouth.

The first time he’d tasted you, delicately kissing your swollen folds and listening to you unravel above him. Your breathy whines playing on repeat in his head.

The first time you two were joined, closer than you’d ever been before.

Gradually, the shower became far, far too hot. Looking down, Levi could both see and feel the result of his little nostalgia trip. The small whimper of his name in the cell had unlocked a torrent of repressed urges that now sprang to light.

In more ways than one.

It was wrong. It was so, so wrong. You were a mere husk of who you were. You were damaged, fractured. Spiderwebbed cracks lined your mind, threatening to shatter and yet, no matter how far down he turned the shower temperature, no matter how much cold water splashed against his toned back, images of your ecstasy creased face still flashed in his mind, his length only hardening further the longer he left it.

“Damnit…” he muttered with a heavy sigh, before wrapping his hand around his cock and slowly fucking into his fist. His hips bucked involuntarily, having not done this in quite a while now. Levi ran his thumb over that prominent vein, remembering how your hot mouth would suckle kisses along the underside. A low moan escaped his throat, lost down the drain along with the filthy cold water.

He lathered his precum over his sensitive tip, hissing at the friction as he began to pump faster, boney knuckles gripping tighter as he neared his high. His hand didn’t feel like his own. There were no rough callouses on his palms, but rather they were softer. Daintier. Smaller. He couldn’t stop his imagination running wild as he thought of you jerking him off, that playful, fox-like smile pulling at your lips whenever his back arched or his hips bucked.

“Fuck…” he groaned, fucking into his fist with renewed vigor, his balls tightening as he felt his release wash through his body, mouth falling open. Throwing his head back, Levi thrusted his hips into his grip as ropes of white seed spilled from his tip, seeping through his fingers.

He braced his arm against the white tiled wall, watching the water wash away his ivory sins as his cock softened in his hand. Guilt punctured his afterglow, self hatred a constant accomplice as he turned the temperature back up to boiling, hissing as the lava scalded his back, staining his skin an angry red. He wouldn’t have tea after this. He wouldn’t carefully dry himself off, or sit at his desk and stave away sleep.

He would collapse amongst the unused duvet and pillows of his bed, and hope his nightmares carry him to retribution.