#land clearing equipment

[fecon]

Advantages of Using Forestry Mulching And Stump Grinding Equipment

Forestry mulching and stump grinding equipment are powerful tools for land clearing and site preparation. These machines have numerous advantages over traditional land-clearing methods, such as bulldozing and burning. 

Here are some of the main benefits of using forestry mulching and stump grinding equipment:

Faster and more efficient clearing: Forestry mulchers and stump grinders can clear large land areas quickly and efficiently, making them ideal for commercial and residential projects. They can easily handle trees, brush, and other vegetation, leaving behind mulch that can be used for erosion control and soil improvement.

No burning or hauling required: Unlike traditional land clearing methods, which often involve burning or hauling away debris, forestry mulching and stump grinding produce minimal waste that can be left on site. This saves time and money and reduces the environmental impact of land clearing.

Reduced soil disturbance: Forestry mulching and stump grinding equipment are designed to minimize soil disturbance, which is significant for sensitive ecosystems or areas with steep terrain. This means valuable topsoil is left intact, reducing erosion and preserving the natural habitat. There are varieties of forestry mulchers for sale, you can choose according to forestry needs.

Versatility: Forestry mulchers and stump grinders are highly versatile machines that can be used for various applications, from land clearing and site preparation to trail maintenance and right-of-way clearing. They can easily handle trees of different sizes and types, making them ideal for forestry operations, residential landscaping, and other applications.

Cost-effective: Forestry mulching and stump grinding equipment can be more cost-effective than traditional land clearing methods, especially for large-scale projects. They require less labor and can clear land more quickly, reducing project timelines and costs.

In conclusion, forestry mulching and stump-grinding equipment are effective land clearing equipment that offer numerous advantages over traditional land-clearing methods. They are faster, more efficient, and more environmentally friendly, making them an ideal choice for commercial and residential projects. If you are considering land clearing for your project, consider using forestry mulching and stump grinding equipment to achieve the best results.

View original source here - https://feconllc.blogspot.com/2023/03/advantages-of-using-forestry-mulching.html

[excaliburlandclearing]

Do you want to clean up your backyard? Because, if you want to do that, then you must hire a reputed and licensed land clearing agency. To know more about, the land clearing process, please go through this graphical presentation.

https://in.pinterest.com/pin/927178642008877287/

[beardedmrbean]

Cory Lee has visited 40 countries on seven continents, and yet the Georgia native has never explored Cloudland Canyon State Park, about 20 minutes from his home. His wheelchair was tough enough for the trip to Antarctica but not for the rugged terrain in his backyard.

Lee’s circumstances changed Friday, when Georgia’s Department of Natural Resources and the Aimee Copeland Foundation unveiled a fleet of all-terrain power wheelchairs for rent at 11 state parks and outdoorsy destinations, including Cloudland Canyon. The Action Trackchair models are equipped with tank-like tracks capable of traversing rocks, roots, streams and sand; clearing fallen trees; plowing through tall grass and tackling uphill climbs.

“I’ll finally be able to go on these trails for the first time in my life,” said the 32-year-old travel blogger, who shares his adventures on Curb Free with Cory Lee. “The trails are off-limits in my regular wheelchair.”

Georgia is one of the latest states to provide the Land Rover of wheelchairs to outdoor enthusiasts with mobility issues.

In 2017, Colorado Parks and Wildlife launched its Staunton State Park Track-Chair Program, which provides free adaptive equipment, though guests must pay the $10 entrance fee. Michigan’s Department of Natural Resources has placed off-road track chairs in nearly a dozen parks, including Muskegon State Park. In 2018, Lee reserved a chair at the park that boasts three miles of shoreline on Lake Michigan and Muskegon Lake. “It allowed me to have so much independence on the sand,” he said.

Mobility FTW

[artbyblastweave]

Playing through Fallout:New Vegas for the first time in years. And I'm developing a newfound appreciation for the damage done to the intended pacing of the narrative with the addition of the Courier's Stash. I wake up in Goodsprings, and as part of the extended tutorial you have Ghosttown Gunfight, the fairly self-contained faction war between Goodsprings and the Powder Gangers. And the design intent, I think, is that this is probably supposed to be a pain in the ass, with only one or two avenues of support available to you given the low level at which you'll pick this one up. Six Powder Gangers, some in body-armor, would be a serious threat, and committing to fighting against that with your dinky 9mm and a varmint rifle seems like a rough time! An actual uphill battle, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing. Fortunately, Benny inexplicably left my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, so I cleaned up.

I'm working my way south, and, you know, in a version of the game where Benny didn't inexplicably leave my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, this would have been the knock-on effect of my "good" Karmic choice in defending Goodsprings; the road south is littered with powder gangers who'd have been neutral had I not kicked the hornet's nest. As it stands? Free experience. I hit Primm, and fighting through the cramped hallways of the Bison Steve I encounter an enemy armed with what was clearly supposed to be the first heavy weapon I'd encounter in the world. Tight Corridors. Inexplicable Grenade Launcher. I clean up. South I go to the Mojave outpost, Nipton, that whole thing. And clearly, clearly you aren't meant to take a swing at Vulpes here, right? You're supposed to take it in, get a sense for the legion. In the version of the game that shipped you're supposed to get bodied if you try to kick the beef gate here. There are allowances in the game for if you pull it off, sure, but I did try with just the service rifle, without the glorious first-strike capabilities afforded to me by the 40mm grenade launcher that Benny inexplicably left in the grave with me. It didn't go very well!

So now I'm dogged by Legion hit squads on my way to Novac, which I get the distinct impression was not the point in the game at which this was supposed to start happening to me, because I am gathering up some pretty expensive equipment, all sold for space. I punch through to Vegas, and at this stage, the clear developer intent is that you need to spend some time milling around Freeside or Camp McCarran in order to gain access to the Strip- do odd jobs to scrape up the money, buy the forgery from Mick and Ralphs, gain monorail access, get your science skill high enough to hack the robot. Get the lay of the land, get a feel for the people, send some time stewing in the human cost of House's walled garden before you head in and hear the pitch from the big man himself.

Except I've got 5000 caps from selling off all the legion killteam equipment. In I go!

And the fun thing is, right, the Courier's stash can't be diegetic, but it is having a very direct impact on the world here. A top legion guy just went down to my inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher. Whatever else I'm roleplaying as, I am roleplaying as a guy who woke up in the possession of an inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher, and neither I nor my character can plausibly ignore that fact given its terrible bloodstained utility. I play a man, a man who would be a good man, a man nonetheless bewitched by the terrible resolutory power of the grenade launcher. My best friend, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher! My worst enemy, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher!

[austinlandclearing]

Top Rated Bastrop Services In Highland Haven and Surrounding  Areas

When it comes to land clearing and brush removal in Bastrop the team at LandClearingAustin.com is here to make sure the job is handled with the highest level of professionalism. Our crews have decades of experience and our company utilizes the HIGHEST quality equipment, purpose built for the rigorous tasks of land clearing and forestry mulching in Lakeway, Texas.

[beansprean]

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...

(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."

2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.

3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."

4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"

5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.

6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID

[andrewlovesequipmentservices]

Why You Should Remove that Old Tree Stump?

How much a tree grows bigger, someday, they just have to come down. Maybe it's a willow tree whose roots started to attack your water pipes. Maybe it's that oak that's keeping you from remodeling your house. Maybe it's that old maple that looks like it'll fall onto your house any day now. People frequently have to remove trees from their yards due to location, size, illness, and other factors. Yes, the most important thing you need to do here is to get with tree stump removal from the top-notch experts. There is no denying that a stump is nowhere near as dangerous as an unstable tree; it still brings along many issues you don't face in normal removal of a stump. 

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP prompt

During a rouge attack(your choice) a local graveyard in Gotham was damaged. Afterward, some local corrupted businessmen decided that clearing out the land and moving the graves was a great idea.

Not soon after the "clean up" began a gray-skinned teen with flaming blue hair showed up, and boy was she angry. She began yelling, screaming at the people the workers for digging up her grave.

When she was only met with patronizing responses she used her guitar to destroy some of their equipment. She was only the beginning though. Soon a equally gray looking biker guy and his green girlfriend showed up and started chasing people off.

Even some angry blue guy showed up one morning yelling about how ' they would pay for braking open his box.' (Braking his casket) wasn’t till they accidentally damaged a statue of one of Gothams most famous wardens that it really hit the fan.

The Bats call in Justice League Dark for help with this issue and no matter what they were thinking was going to happen. No matter what hoops they thought they would have to go through to resolve this. They did not expect Constantine to call a fourteen year old for back up.

- So in canon Ember died in a house fire. I could totally see that happening as a result of a rouge attack.(Like Firefly or the Joker, maybe)

Johnny and Kitty died in a motorcycle accident. So maybe they were trying to out run the police? Run from people they had gambling debts with?

The Box Ghost was a warehouse accident. Probably as an example the Mob wanted to make to the warehouse owner after not wanting to pay for protection. Or perhaps he was a whistle-blower?

Walker died in a prison riot, and seeing how Gotham is the place to find violent criminals. Would it be that much of a stretch to say it was Gotham penitentiary? I think not.

[taiyaki-o]

HI NEIGHBOR!

synopsis: your new next door neighbors are…interesting, to say the least.

gojo x gn!reader, non curse AU

You live next door to a strange pair.

Not strange in a bad way, but strange as in they seemed more like brothers or distant cousins rather than father and son. Their attitudes and personalities were polar opposites, not to mention they looked nothing alike.

You’d met Gojo Satoru and Fushiguro Megumi the day they’d moved in, your doorway having been blocked by a couple boxes belonging to your new neighbors.

“Um, excuse me?” You tap the white haired man on the shoulder as he’s rummaging through a box, his back turned to you. He whips his head around, peering up at you over his round sunglasses with a questioning look on his face. You chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry, could you just move these out of the way? They’re yours, right?” You point to the boxes.

A look of slight embarrassment crosses his face and he laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, they’re ours. Sorry about that, uh…”

You figure that he’s pausing for your name, and you give it to him with a smile.

He extends a hand out with a smile of his own. “Gojo. Gojo Satoru,” he says, and you shake his hand. “Here, let me get these out of your way.”

You try to help as he starts moving boxes, only to be met with what you could only assume to be an entire set of Olympic weightlifting equipment with how unbelievably heavy it is.

“Jeez, what do you have in here?” You ask in a slightly incredulous tone. “And how are you picking that up so easily?”

Gojo laughs at your bemused expression.

“Been going to the gym recently. Guess it’s paid off,” he says with a confident smirk.

As he opens his mouth to speak again, a small, monotone voice interrupts him.

“Did you get my books yet?”

You turn around to see a spiky haired kid with a slight scowl standing in the doorway. Gojo jumps as he’s startled, before quickly clearing his throat and recollecting himself with a laugh.

“Just wait a bit longer, Megumi. I’ll get them as soon as these boxes aren’t blocking the nice person’s door,” he smiles, but the kid continues to scowl at him.

Megumi then looks at you: his face doesn’t soften, but you can see in his eyes that he simply doesn’t know how to talk to new people, especially adults. You greet him with a smile and a polite wave.

“Say hi, Megumi. Be nice,” Gojo scolds him lightly. Megumi bows his head, averting his eyes.

“Hi,” he finally says softly.

“Hi Megumi,” you smile at the boy softly. “You like reading?”

The boy nods shyly after a moment.

“Well, I’ve got some books you could borrow if you want. What kind of genres do you read?” You squat down to his eye level as Gojo continues moving boxes.

“…I like science books. And history.” Megumi twiddles his fingers, still not making eye contact.

“That’s so cool! You must be really smart,” you chuckle. His cheeks flush a little. “Wait right here,” you say, disappearing into your apartment before returning with a stack of National Geographic magazines, science books, and a number of other genres that Megumi hadn’t mentioned. You catch the way his eyes light up a bit at the stack, and you smile.

Gojo lets out a relieved huff, having moved the final box into the apartment and away from your door. He walks back out, but the scene in front of him makes him freeze, his jaw going slightly slack.

You and Megumi are sitting on the floor, open books scattered around the two of you, a gentle breeze from the still open door gently stirring the pages. Megumi’s expression shows the most emotion Gojo’s seen since meeting the boy, as his eyes widen in amazement as he reads over the words on the books. His gaze eventually lands on you, and he swears time stops.

The sun hits your face at just the right angle, the glow of your skin damn near angelic as he basks in the light and warmth of your soft smile. He thought you were pretty when he first saw you, but here? You laugh, and all he hears is a choir of the gentlest bells and the sweetest music. He could look at this forever, he thinks.

“Gojo! You’re back!” You notice him standing farther down in the entryway. He snaps out of his trance, the tips of his ears turning a shade darker.

“Y-yeah. Um- what are you- what’s going on?” God, he hates how you’ve reduced him to this. You haven’t even done anything!

“Megumi likes reading, so I thought I could let him borrow some of my books!”

“Really? Cool, yeah, very cool-“ Come on, Satoru, get it together!

You bid farewell to Gojo and Megumi eventually, and Megumi clutches his new hoard of texts as he watches you go back inside your own apartment. He waddles away, dumping the books on the recently set up couch and burying his nose in “A History of Greek Sculpture”. Gojo lingers at the door.

Was that your perfume he smelled? Or was it just the flowers blooming outside? What’s your favorite color? Your favorite food? What do you do in your spare time? What are your hobbies? Are you single? Can he be your boyfr-

“Oi. Grandpa.”

Gojo whips his head around incredulously. “Who’re you calling grandpa, you little brat?!”

Megumi, stoic as ever, looks at Gojo dead in his eyes. “Close the door. You’re letting bugs in.”

Gojo shuts his mouth and then the door.

pt 2?

as of 3/23: pt 2 here!

[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

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[miniwheat77]

Because. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, ghost being guarded, reader is injured, blood, violence, gore, (sorry if I missed any.)

This was a request, not edited just yet. Hope you like!

The day you met Ghost is when the flirting started. Anytime you were around him you were flirty and sometimes it drove him crazy. He always rolled his eyes and paid no mind to you. He was well guarded and wouldn’t crumble that easy. He always got teased by the other men on base by how much you liked him.

And than, you were put on a military base together and the flirting was nearly every day. In passing you always greeted him kindly. He always thought it was just pointless flirting.

He didn’t think you had any real feelings for him.

“So.. what’re you doing after this?” You smile. Ghost rolls his eyes, gun in hand. “Stay on task Sergeant.” Ghost mumbles, raising his gun. “Yes sir.” You say sarcastically. This mission has been rough. Your feet are tired and your back is sore. You haven’t slept in nearly 24 hours, you were tired and getting weaker. This was supposed to be a normal mission, in and out. But that wasn’t happening.

You and Ghost were holed up in a building to the east side of the compound you were trying to raid, they’d made threats with nuclear equipment and you needed to put a stop to it. Leave no one alive, clear out all potential threats. Dispose of the equipment properly.

Nobody knew what was waiting for you when you got here. There were hundreds of men and it’s taken hours to pick them off one by one. Everyone is tired and getting worried by the minute. “Almost there.” You hear your Captain call through the radio. You sigh. “This is rough.” You mumble. Ghost stays quiet. But you were used to it. You usually talked to yourself. You prop yourself up at the window, peeking out slightly. Your eyes are tired from being so focused for so long, but you don’t miss the long barrel of a rifle peeking out of a window, aimed right at Ghost.

It’s a split second and you’re shoving him to the side, the bullet colliding with your vest. Ghost hits the ground with a grunt and the force of the bullet penetrating your vest has you flying back, landing on your back with a cry. “Shit! Y/N?” He rushes over to you, pulling you away from the window, tugging at your vest to see if it’s hit you. He unzips it, pushing your shirt up. He can see a giant red mark and you’re struggling to breathe because it’s knocked the wind out of you, but you’re okay. Unharmed and okay. He sighs. Lowering his head. “Why would you do that?” He breathes. You take in a deep breath, a smile on your lips. “Because.” You mumble. “You’re supposed to protect those who you care about.” His eyes are wide as he stares at you. Shock written all over his face, luckily you can’t see it because of the mask. “You could’ve died. So easily Y/N.” He breathes. “So what?”

He stands up, turning his back to you. That easy? You would die for him that easily?

After that mission, Ghost had an entirely new perspective. Your flirty jokes and suggestive remarks were no longer pointless, but they had meaning behind them.

Ghost was passing by your room when you were emerging. “Thought those heavy footsteps sounded familiar.” You smirk. He shakes his head. “How’s your chest?” You smile. “If you wanted to look that bad you just had to ask.” You bite your lip, making him roll his eyes. “It’s pretty bruised up.” You lower your shirt so that he can get a good look at you, his eyes widening. “Jesus.. that looks horrible. Have you had it looked at?” He asks. “Yeah. They just said it was bruised and that it’d need time to heal.” You shrug. “Maybe you could kiss it better for me.” You smile.

He steps toward you, pushing you back by your hip, taking you off guard as he backs you up into your room. “Woah!” You breathe. He pulls his mask over his head, drawing a gasp from your lips. “Take your shirt off.” He mumbles. “Woah- Ghost I was just.. messing with you.” You laugh nervously. He reaches out, grasping your shirt and pulling it over your head, hearing you hiss. “No bra?” He laughs. “No..” you laugh nervously, “it’s really sore.” You breathe. He gets a good look at it, running his thumb over it. You have a huge bruise. “Poor thing.” He breathes. "Did they give you anything for it?" He asks. You shake your head. "Told me Ice for swelling and heat for circulation. Not much else they can do." You sigh. You feel exposed to him. Nerves setting in. "Hold on." He sighs. Leaving your room, making sure to close the door behind him. Not wanting anyone to see you. While he's gone, you pull your shirt back over your head.

When he returns, he laughs lightly. Seeing that you've covered yourself again. "Shirt. Off." He breathes. He closes the door behind him again and makes sure the door is locked. When he turns back around, you take it off again, slowly to make sure you don't hurt yourself. He smiles at how easily you obey him. He makes his way over to you with an ice pack. He sits down on the edge of your bed, setting it slowly onto your bruise. He sees you flinch. "Hurt?" He asks. "Yeah." You wince. He laughs. "Good. It's what you get for literally taking a bullet for me." He rolls his eyes. You laugh, eyes avoiding his. "I'd do it again." He shakes his head. "That's stupid. If it comes down to it, you always save yourself." He mumbles. "You would take my death easier than I'd take yours I think." You look down. Shy smile on your lips. "What?" He mumbles. You roll your eyes, hissing as you adjust the way you're sitting. "You think all of the flirting is for nothing?"

He freezes, drawing his eyes away from where they're on your bruise. He shakes his head. "You don't mean that." He mumbles. "You're not stupid Ghost. You know how I feel about you. It's more than a dumb crush. I mean for christ's sake, I took a bullet for you, and I would do it again. No questions asked." You laugh, almost as if you're shocked by your own actions. "I didn't even think about it really, didn't take a second. I saw the barrel of that rifle and my body just moved." You shrug. He sighs. "You're lucky. Anything higher than 7.62 by 39mm it won't stop." You shrug. "But it didn't. You though? If it had hit you, it would've killed you." He looks away from your gaze. "Don't do it again Sergeant." He breathes. You roll your eyes. "No sir."

He stands up. "Keep the ice pack. You need to get some sleep." He mumbles, rushing out of your room quickly.

He makes his way down the hallway, pushing his door open with a sigh.

Your actions and admissions had him so confused. He sits on his bed with a sigh, dread settling into his chest. Ghost was able to function like he did because he knew nobody cared about him. He could die for his team, he could die tomorrow and nobody would care.

Except for you apparently.

In your room, you sit on your bed. He didn’t react well to your admission and you don’t know why you said it anyways. You lay back on your bed, sighing. Why him? Of all people you could’ve fallen in love with, it was him. The most guarded person you’ve ever met. You hadn’t even seen his face until tonight, and he was just as handsome as you pictured. If not more.

—

The next morning, you were cleaning off a table in the mess hall.

“What happened to your arm?” Soap asks, he’s eating a sandwich and Ghost is behind him. You glance at Ghost, turning away. You turn toward him, tugging the shoulder of your shirt down to show that the bruise had spread even more. “Medic said the bones in my shoulder are bruised and told me I should wear a stupid fucking arm sling to keep it still.”

“Woah, language.” He mumbles. You roll your eyes, moving passed the both of them. “Wait, Y/N. I was just kidding. Do you need help?”

“Nah I’m good.” You mumble.

You disappear through the doors. “Wow. Can you believe she didn’t flirt with you? She must really be hurting.” Soap laughs. Sitting down at a table and continuing to eat his sandwich. “Must be.” Ghost mumbles. “That girl really took a bullet for you?” He asks. Ghost nods. “Damn. Must really like you. I can’t imagine what that would like if the bullet were bigger. Seriously would’ve blown a bowl sized hole in her chest. Kevlar or not.” Soap mumbles. The thought of you on the floor or of that building, bleeding out. It makes Ghost sick

You had no idea what kind of bullet you would be getting hit with when you shoved him to the side. “Yeah, thank god it wasn’t.”

“Cmon, I’ll make it for you.” Gaz mumbles. “You don’t have to make it for me. I’m not crippled.” You roll your eyes, following Gaz into the mess hall. He’s got an MRE in his hand. Soap smiles. “Just sit down and let me help you. You fucking grouch.” He laughs. You narrow your eyes at him, sitting down at the same table as Soap and Ghost. “You feeling okay?” Soap asks. “Yes.” You mumble, leaning on your arm that’s not hurt. “You just haven’t said anything about Ghost this morning so I thought that you must be really sick.” He laughs. “Oh, how cruel of me.” You sigh dramatically. “Still nothing?”

“Not sure if there’s anymore I can compliment. Not until he takes his shirt off anyways.” You narrow your eyes at Ghost, making him shift uncomfortably. A laugh leaves your lips as you look away from him. “What do you look like when you take off your shirt?” Johnny nudges you. “Don’t know, ask Ghost.” You shrug. Hearing him laugh.

Ghosts cheeks are on fire under his mask. They don’t know that what you just said is true, he does know what you look like without a shirt on. But they don’t know that. You breathe when Gaz sets the MRE he’s just made for you down in front of you. “Thank you Gaz.” You sigh. “No problem. Here.” He gives you a water. “You didn’t have to do that.” You sigh. “Y/N. It’s okay to need help sometimes.” He laughs. You roll your eyes. “I know that, but I’m fine.”

“If I touch your chest you’ll cry.”

“Correction, if you touch my chest, I’ll punch you AND then I’ll cry.” You laugh.

“Sensitive, not soft. Got you.” Gaz laughs. Taking a drink of his own water bottle. “We were just talking about how bad that would’ve been if you had gotten hit by anything with a bigger caliber.” Soap mumbles. “Yeah? Would’ve blown a fuckin hole in my chest.” You laugh. “I don’t know how you’re laughing at that.”

“I got shot on my vest, I didn’t die. I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s such a big deal.” You chuckle. Gaz shakes his head, looking between Simon and Soap. “It’s just different. I thought it would’ve scared you more.” He shrugs. You pause for a second. “Of course it scared me.” You shake your head looking up. “It did?”

You laugh. “Of course it did. It scared the hell out of me. I got hit so hard it knocked me on my ass. But it was my vest or Ghosts fucking head, you tell me what you would’ve done.” You mumble. They’re quiet, your admission taking them off guard. These moments of realism really hit hard. After that, it’s quiet for a while.

—

Ghost is really struggling.

Nobody is supposed to care about him. He’s not supposed to care about anyone.

The thought of you hurt, or dead. It kills him inside. The fact that you have actual feelings, care about him. So much to the point that you’d fucking die for him. He aches. Somewhere deep in his chest, Simon hurts. He knows what he needs to do, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He needs to allow himself to get close to you, so that he can keep you safe.

He’s sitting on a bench in the hallway, waiting for you to walk down the hallway to your room. Eventually, he can hear your footsteps coming. When you finally come into his view, he stands up. “Hey.” You smile. He nods his head. “Need to talk to you.” He mumbles. You bite your lip nervously. “Okay. Come inside.” You tilt your head, opening up your door. You close it behind you, crossing your arms nervously. “Look.. if this is about what I said this morning, I was just messing a-“ he pulls his mask off, his dirty blonde hair messy on his head from it. You swallow hard, turning your eyes away from him. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you doing that.” You laugh nervously.

“It’s not about that.” He breathes. “I don’t care about your flirting, kind’ve like it actually.” He shrugs. Seeing you smile. You sit down on the edge of your bed and he stands in front of you. “I need to hear you say it.” He breathes.

You bite your lip nervously. You know what he wants you to say. “Why?” You breathe. “Because. I just do.”

You bite your lip. “What do you want me to say?” You look up at him. He sighs. “You know what I want you to say. Say how you feel about me, say that… that-“ he sighs.

“That I love you?”

He goes stiff, those three words making his brain fuzzy.

“Is that what you wanted to hear, Simon? That I love you? That I’m in love with you?” You breathe. “Yes.” He breathes. “Why?” He asks.

“Because..” you mumble.

He says nothing.

“Because I think that there’s so much more to you than what meets the eyes. I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re seriously one of the handsomest men I’ve ever met in my life.” You laugh, looking down at your hands as you sit nervously. “You’re mysterious. And caring. When you want something, you do absolutely everything you can to get it. No matter what. You’re.. kind.. and loving. No matter how guarded you try to be, you just can’t because being good is who you are. You are good. And I admire the hell out of you for that Ghost.” You laugh. “I knew I was in love with you the day I met you, and nothing will change that. And I’m sorry.” You look up at him.

He moves toward you, sitting down next to you on your bed. He knows he should walk away. But he’s not going to. He’s in too deep.

He lifts his hand, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. You close your eyes from his touch, Simon always overstimulated you. He was too much. Every single nerve in your body lit on fire when he was around, and when ye was close like this it was always so much. You don’t expect his lips on yours, but you don’t waste a second to kiss him back. He cups your cheeks, tugging you into him slightly. The deeper you kiss him, the further he falls into the black hole you’ve created. He lowers his hands to your hips, pulling you into him as he lays back. You’re straddling his waist, keeping your lips against his.

It feels like a dream. You’re in another world as you rock your hips into him, feeling him groan into your mouth as you grind into him. You can feel him getting hard against you. You push his shirt up slightly, helping him pull it completely off. You return your lips to his, his hands gliding down your hips to rest on your ass, his thumb hooking over your waistband. You pull away from him, sitting up completely. You slide lower on him, reaching for the button on his jeans. He sits up onto his elbows, watching as you unbutton them, tugging on them so that his zipper will go lower. Revealing his black boxers. He reaches over you, grasping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You raise your arms to help him out a bit. He admires you for a second.

He lifts his hips up, pushing you up and grasping your hips. He stands up with you and lays you onto your back. “There you go. You’ve seen me without my shirt.” He sits up, resting a knee between your legs as he reaches for your waistband. Your cheeks brighten sand you avoid his gaze. “What’re you blushing for hm? You had to have known your flirting would get you here at some point.” He smirks. You giggle, “I actually didn’t think it would.” You bite your lip. Hear him snort. He pulls your pants down your legs until they’re off completely. You close your legs lightly but he pushes them back apart, moving himself between them. He pushes his boxers down until he reveals his cock to you, and you bite the inside of your cheek to avoid audibly moaning out at the size of him. He’s huge.

He grasps your thighs, pulling you down. You can feel his tip nudging against your entrance, you’re nervous and he can tell by the way that you’re looking at him. “Nothing to be worried about. You’ve done this before right?” He asks. You nod your head. “Just not for a long time..” you blush. Looking down. He nods. He spits into his hand, running it up your entrance. Hearing you gasp. He presses the tip of his cock up into you, watching your tight gummy walls swallow him up, feeling you throb against him. There’s no going back anymore. You’re his.

When he bottoms out, your eyes widen and you clamp a hand over your mouth, hearing him chuckle. “Good girl.” He breathes. “Try n stay quiet for me. I know it’s a lot.” He breathes. He holds you tight, you clamp your eyes closed tightly as he starts to fuck himself into you. Your eyes roll back slightly, you clench them closed, biting down onto your hand to stay quiet. He’s being rough, but he’s not used to being gentle. He adjusts himself slightly, slowing his thrusts just a bit. Lowering himself down to kiss your bruise gently. You move your hand away from your mouth, looking back up at him once he pulls away. “I thought I could keep myself away from you.” He grits his teeth, pressing his hand against your lower stomach, feeling himself as he thrusts into you. “But you’re so persistent. Couldn’t keep my fucking hands off of you forever.” He hisses. You’re tight around him. He pushes your thighs up slightly, hearing another gasp come from your lips. His thrusts are deep and hard. He’s got a fast but steady pace. He’s pushing you close to your orgasm already and you feel pathetic. The swirling you feel in your stomach is overwhelming. You’ve never cum from just sex before. That was about to change.

You inhale sharply, looking up at him as he pushes you closer and closer to your high. “S-Simon!” You whine. “It’s alright.” He chuckles. “I know it’s a lot.” He repeats himself. “Give yourself to me. I want all of you.” He breathes. He lowers himself, wrapping his arms around you. Holding you tight as he hammers his hips into yours. His steady pace is what sends you spiraling, pressing himself right into your soft spongy walls just the way you like, he’s made for you. Fits you perfectly. The squelch from your pussy has him growling. “So wet for me..” he pants. He clamps a hand over your mouth when your eyes roll back. Reaching your high. Your walls tighten around him, gripping him so tightly. He’s panting hard, his breathes getting unsteady. You’re squirming beneath him and he knows you won’t be able to take much more. You can feel him twitch inside of you, your thighs shaking from it. “Simon.” You look up at him. “Look at me.” You breathe, pulling him into you. He holds onto you again. He takes on look at you, your eyes full of tears of pleasure as you look back at him, and he tips over the edge of pure bliss right there.

His eyes roll back when he cums, thrusts sloppy and fast as he rides out his high. “F-fuck. Bloody hell.” He gasps, resting himself into you slightly. He takes in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. “For what?” You ask. “For being rough.”

“I don’t mind it.” You blush. Hearing him laugh. “Darling you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

“I hope that’s true.” You mumble.

—

The next morning, you’re sore as you get out of your bed. After everything had happened, you spent a lot of time talking with Ghost. You don’t remember falling asleep.

You get dressed, making your way out into the hallway, hissing slightly as you do. He’d really done a number on you. “Ah. Look who finally decided to join us.” Gaz laughs. “What?” You mumble. You look at the time, eyes widening. It’s almost 11am. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” You ask. “Ghost told us to let you sleep in. Said you had a long night.” He smirks. You roll your eyes.

“Sounds like he’s the one who had a long night.” You laugh, lifting the cup of coffee to your lips. They’re all looking at you with wide eyes. “He’s behind me isn’t he?”

They nod. You roll your eyes, turning around. Seeing him standing there with his arms cross. “Where’s your arm brace?”

“Haven’t put it on yet.” You shrug. “Y/N. Go put it on.” He rolls his eyes. “Alright alright.” You mumble, disappearing back down the hallway. “You wanna come help me put it on?” You wink at him, hearing everyone laugh in the mess hall.

“You’re something else.”

[mattsenthusiast]

𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You finally decided to get your first tattoo. But what if your tattoo artist senses your nerves and tries to make you feel better?

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), exhibitionism, hand kink, breath play if you squint, needles, pet names, degrading and praising, Dom!Matt, fingering, oral (female receiving), p in v

Word count: 2k

——————————

I looked into the small mirror one last time to make sure I looked presentable before exiting my car.

Today is the day- I was about to get my first tattoo. I’ve been looking forward to it since I was 13, maybe even younger, and my dreams will finally come true.

My legs were shaking slightly from excitement and nerves as I entered the building and made my way upstairs.

The arrangement of the main room was rather dark. Long curtains were covering huge windows that were spread all the way along one wall, and the black drawings decorating any free space on the walls were a perfect finish to the whole vibe.

My eyes scanned the room for a few more seconds before landing on the main desk- specifically on a person sitting behind it.

The man’s gaze was fixated on the computer screen as his fingers swiftly clicked the keyboard. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt that exposed his slightly toned arms covered in tattoos. His hair was a perfect length, long enough to sit gently on his forehead but short enough to not cover his vision. Dark, circular glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose. The sight alone made my heart skip a beat and I knew that I’ll be fucked until the end of the appointment.

I approached the desk and that’s when he looked up at me with his blue eyes. I swear I could see them wander down my body for a moment before he cleared his throat.

,,Hey, what can I help you with?”

,,Hello, I actually have an appointment for 6:30. I figured I’ll be a few minutes earlier just in case” I offered him a smile which he returned.

,,oh yeah! You must be y/n, nice to meet you. I’m Matt and I’ll be taking care of you today” he straightened his hand into my direction. I shook it and couldn’t get over how soft and big they are ,,why don’t you follow me to my station and we’ll get to work, sounds good?”

Before I could start my answer he already stood up from the chair ,,yup sounds great!” he smiled at me once again and led me to a different room.

His work room was no different than the lobby- dark and fancy looking. The nerves that were rooting inside of me were showing more and more. I started to play with the hem of my skirt and balancing from one leg to another.

,,Okay so you can make yourself comfortable while I pull up the project from my shelf. Where’d you like to get the tattoo again?”

,,Right under my collarbone. It’s cute and minimalistic so I thought it’ll be a good idea you know” I tried to keep the conversation going.

,,I got ya. Do you have any other tattoos or is it your first one?” He asked while preparing the equipment.

,,No, it’s my first one. I’ve always wanted one so now that I’m finally able to I decided to fuck it and come over here. Now that I’m about to get it done I’m scared” I laughed slightly after realizing that I’m rambling from my nerves.

Matt offered me a soft smile and got closer to me. He started to slide the straps of my top and bra to get a better access to my collarbone. His hands were slightly grazing over my skin and the rings he was wearing left a cold feeling over me. A breath got stuck in my throat at his action, but I tried to cover it up with a cough.

,,Alright, I’m just going to put a stencil on your skin so there’s nothing to worry about. Just try not to move to much, alright sweetheart?” He spoke softly while clearing my skin with an antibacterial gel. His voice as smooth as butter. I wonder if his tongue would also be this smooth on my pu-

,,Earth to y/n, are you okay? I asked if you’re ready for me to start tattooing you?”

,,I- yeah you can start please” I looked away from him, my cheeks burning from the image that my mind just put me in.

,,thank you, I’m just gonna get into it, if you need a break just let me know. First tattoos are always scary. Been there, done that”

He put his left hand dangerously close to my boobs. He had to stretch the skin for a better access, but it still made me wet. The veins that ran through his hands were right at my sight now and I couldn’t get enough of looking at them.

That’s when I felt it. The sensation of a needle with ink being stabbed into my skin. To my surprise the pain was not the only thing I could feel. There was also something else, was it a pleasure? I moaned at the two sensations mixing together and my eyes widened.

,,Sh sh shhh, you’re doing so good princess, so good for me” Matt whispered- almost whimpered- the praises to me. I could feel the hand that was just holding my skin crawl down to my thigh, really close to my dripping core since my skirt as ridden up. He started rubbing small circles on my leg and his other hand was tattooing me like nothing was happening. Like the sexual tension and filthy activity and thoughts were absent.

I could help myself though. I kept squirming in my seat and groaning every time he pressed the needle into my skin.

,,I think I should distract you from the tattooing. A good orgasm would do it for you, wouldn’t it baby? Do I need to touch you or can you cum just from the pain? I know you’re enjoying it, you’re just a little slut”

,,I mmmmm, please touch me Matt, please” I whined and looked straight into his eyes.

,,Good girl, asking me so nicely. How can I say no to such a pretty girl” he smirked darkly and his hand started going further under my skirt, finally reaching my dripping core.

,,Really? No underwear? Such a whore, you’re practically begging to be fucked. Now, you’ll let me finish the tattoo for the next 10 minutes and don’t you dare to cum. Understood?”

,,Yes sir” my mind was already going foggy and him slightly rubbing against my pussy, so when he put two of his digits into me and I let out a loud moan, he wasn’t surprised at all.

The 10 minutes felt like hours. Matt kept mindless thrusting his long fingers inside of me while being focused on his work. Not cumming was a real challenge to me considering that a wet dream of a man was sitting in front of me and touching my body.

,,Okay, and you’re all done. Normally I’d give you a mirror to see the tattoo right away but I’m so desperate to make you come so you’ll have to live in a mystery for a bit longer” with that being said he removed his fingers from me and licked them clean.

Before I could even say a word, his face was already pressed to my pussy, eating me out as his nose perfectly bumped into his clit.

I was a moaning mess. My hands made their way to his hair, pulling him deeper into me. He was like a starving man that hasn’t eaten for the past week. As my orgasm was approaching I closed my legs around his head, definitely cutting his access to air. It was so unbelievably hot, especially since his eyes never left mine. It only took him a few more licks before I was squirting all over his face and the chair I was sitting in.

,,SHIT I’m so sorry oh my lord I didn’t mea-“ I was cut off by his lips being pressed to mine, tasting myself off of his tongue.

,,no need to be sorry sweetheart, that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen” he gave me a cheeky wink and pressed his lips to mine once again.

,,I’ve got a deal for you. I get to fuck you right now and you can walk out with a free tattoo and my number. How does that sound hmmm?”

I actually couldn’t believe my ears, but who I was to resist a hot man who wants me? So I wasted no time and started rubbing his bulge through his pants, as a sign that he can do whatever he wants to me.

,,that’s what I wanted to see” he groaned at my action and placed his hands under my shirt. His palms playing with my boobs and twisting my them.

He definitely noticed that it’s my sensitive spot because soon he was taking my shirt off and throwing it across the room, his plump lips attacking my nipples.

The feeling was unbelievable, but I couldn’t help but want more. I took the matter into my own hands and started to unbuckle his pants, taking it off right with his boxers.

,,you’re a needy slut holy shit. If you want to act like this then fine. I’ll fuck you like one”

The next thing I know is that I was turned around and my whole body was pressed into one of the big windows. It was already getting dark and the studio was on the second floor, but it didn’t change the fact that the street was still busy and if someone looks up, they can easily see what’s going on here.

It only thrilled me more though. I swear Matt was making me learn so much about myself tonight.

His hands found their place on my body, one was on my hips when the other one wrapped right around my neck. The hem of his shirt was in between his teeth and his glasses were slightly fogged.

Wasting no time, he pushed his dick into me, stretching my walls to an unbelievable level. I let out a scream, but he paid no mind to this and immediately started thrusting deep inside of me.

,,I know you like it rough so take it like a good girl. Take the pain of my cock drilling into you. What would all of those people think if they saw you right now? They’d probably take you for a slut and they wouldn’t be wrong”

I couldn’t say anything at that point. All of this was too much for me to think straight and all that was on my mind was that I was already close. Matt could feel me clenching around his cock and brought his hand to rub my clit.

His peace never slowed down and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his dick. His thrust didn’t stop after this thought. He kept going and going until he reached his high and came on my back.

We were both panting from exhaustion and bliss. I couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at the whole situation.

,,So, now that you fucked me senseless, can I get your number that you promised me so we can go one a date?”

The silence was broken by our laughter.

——————————

Tattoo artist Matt has finally made an appearance!!! Next up we have that youtuber dating thingy so bare with me😚

Not proofread sorry!!!

Tag list (lmk if you wanna be on it!!!!): @st7rnioioss

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 4<-

Part 5

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fingering, Praising

Word Count: 4.4k

Note: It get’s spicy with Hyunjin. For real, I’m on my knees for that man… Btw thank you for that amazing feedback. I didn’t thought, that this story would get so much support, since I’m new at writing in english. (English is not my first language so yea…) Hope you like this part! Get ready for some filthy smut in the next parts. (If you want to get tagged, write it in the comments)

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

As Felix's deep voice echoed in your bones, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your breathing was heavy while you looked at your movements in the mirror. You had underestimated how complicated and exhausting the choreographies of the boys were

It wasn't the first time you had learned the choreography to one of the Stray Kids' songs. As a dancer, you had been so impressed with the performances that you had spent entire nights watching all of the Dance Practice videos, performances, and even Hyunjin's livestreams.

They were all stunning dancers with so much passion, but especially when Hyunjin danced, you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

Every move was mesmerizing and his charisma on stage drove heat through your veins every time. You didn't know how you would react the first time you would see the kids perform live.

That was exactly what had awakened the longing in you again. So sometimes you had stayed longer, when you were sure that everyone had already left, and had started to learn the choreographies yourself in the practice room or even to think up your own.

Today you also took advantage of the time, as the kids were at a shoot for a planned YouTube series. It was going to be a series of vlogs that would show the work behind the album. The very next week, the first video of it would come out. According to Changbin's last message, they were all going to have dinner together at the end of the day before heading back to the dorm.

He had asked if you wanted to come too, but you had declined with thanks. At least you had the chance to clear your head a little bit and do what you loved.

In the meantime you were already on the fifth or sixth song. At the beginning you had warmed up a little and stretched.

It didn't take long and you were fully in your element again. The movements flowed as if they were automatically engraved in your body and every muscle burned from the effort. It was liberating and the room was more than perfectly equipped with the large mirrors and the expensive music system.

Then you discovered a song in your downloads that Chan had sent you a few days ago. He had written and sung it with Hyunjin, but told you they wouldn't release it.

The first time you heard it, your jaw dropped. You heard it again, and then again. Chans and Hyunjin's voices on "Red Lights", were just sexy. The whole song had so much sex appeal that you couldn't help but imagine the two of them performing it.

It was dangerous, and you cursed Chan for planting those fantasies in your head in the first place.

But when you heard it and moved to it, it felt sensual. Your body adapted itself to the passionate mood and with every swing of your hips you became more and more absorbed in the song.

Completely caught up in your world, you stroked your body with your hands, landing on the floor with a twist, moving my upper body in a wave until you slowly came back to Chan's verse from your knees to your feet, letting your hands slide up your legs until you were standing upright again.

They were moves you had picked up from professional pole dancers in clubs, and you liked the sensuality behind them, to Hyunjin's and Chan's voices.

As Hyunjin's part began, you couldn't help but imagine how you had watched him work out a choreography yesterday.

His shirt had stuck to his body and every time he had let out a gasp or a sigh of exertion, you heart had skipped a beat. Actually, you were supposed to log his ideas and then coordinate them with the choreographer, but you had just tried not to stare too conspicuously when he put on those intense looks while he danced, his hair sticking sweatily to his forehead.

With this image in your mind, the erotic mood took over your body and you also recognized in your face this passion while dancing. It was addictive to surrender to the heat. The movements merged fluidly with each beat.

As the song slowly came to an end, you breathed heavily, brushed your hair out of your sweaty face and pulled your ponytail tighter.

Just as you were about to go to your phone to turn on a new song, you froze in mid-motion.

You blinked, hoping you were just imagining that Hyunjin was leaning against the closed door, watching you in utter silence.

You would have loved to run out screaming immediately, but he was blocking the door, looking outrageously handsome.

His long hair fell in his face and his defined arms were crossed in front of his body. He was wearing a black tank top that was cut wide at the sides, so you could see his pale skin. In addition, gray sweatpants and his rings, from which you did not dare to look up.

Your face must have resembled a tomato by now and your mouth was open in despair.

How long had he been watching you dance without you noticing?

"Hyunjin... You're here? I thought you guys were going out to eat... I didn't think anyone else would come here", you stuttered, wishing yourself far away.

His gaze wandered up and down your body without hesitation. So far he had only seen you in fancy business clothes, like blouses or skirts and now you were standing in front of him sweaty in just a sports bra and sweatpants.

"The others have left. I wanted to work out a little more and do a livestream. And I wasn't expecting that either", he explained as he made a motion in your direction with his hand.

Slowly, you nodded, and at that, your heart raced in such a way that you saw it as a welcome escape to die of a heart attack here and now.

"You heard the song", he said then, coming closer.

"Uh... Yes."

He had seen you dancing erotically to his song. The whole thing was too awkward to be true, and yet his eyes continued to roam over your body with interest.

"I didn't know you could dance like that."

Embarrassed, you wrapped your arms around your torso. You felt at the mercy of his engaging presence wearing only a red sports bra and black jogging pants that were loose at the hips because they were way too wide for you.

"I only dance as a hobby.... I'm sorry if I'm not allowed to be here. I'll let you work out in peace", you gushed as his eyes were now driving you increasingly insane. They were by now glued to the strip of skin on your hip that exposed the waistband of your red string due to the loose fit of your sweatpants. Before you could move, he grabbed you by the upper arm with one hand and held you back gently but firmly. His eyes took on a gleam that reminded you of a cat on the hunt. Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as his fingers rested firmly on your skin.

"You can dance here whenever you want. If anyone tells you otherwise, you can say you have my explicit permission to do so."

You had to tilt your head back a little to look into the much taller man's seductive face.

"Thank you", you murmured, secretly wondering why he didn't just let you go. You desperately needed to scream all the shame, heart punding, and fluttering in your stomach into a pillow.

"How long have you been standing there?", you asked quietly, and that's when one corner of his mouth slowly lifted.

"Only since Red Lights... Unfortunately."

A question burned on your tongue and you were afraid of making a fool of yourself with it, but you were keenly interested in his opinion, since he was the one who inspired you to dance again.

"What did you think? Of my dancing?"

He shifted his weight to the other foot and didn't even try to hide his gaze. As he answered, he inspected every place where your bare skin flashed out.

"It looked strong and... hot. Very sexy."

Overwhelmed, you expelled your breath and were completely taken in by his presence. The smirk turned to a grin and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His cool fingers brushed your heated skin and it began to tingle at that spot.

"We could do the livestream together, if that would be okay with you."

You were silent for a few seconds, looking at him in wonder.

"I don't know if Stay would want to watch that...", you doubted aloud and just the thought of dancing with Hyunjin gave you goosebumps all over your body.

"Stay love you. Have you seen on TikTok how many edits there already are about you? If they find out you can dance that well too, you'll probably have to become an idol too", he said with amusement.

"No thank you. I'd rather leave that to you", you laughed, looking down at yourself uncertainly.

In fact, you had already noticed that most of the fans reacted very positively to you. Since you were constantly in paparazzi pictures with the guys, and sometimes in vlogs, your face was all over TikTok. Stays even took old interviews you had done and made edits out of them.

So maybe they really liked seeing you dance with Hyunjin. You really hoped they would.

"We'll start off really chill.... I'll warm up a bit, we'll chat and if it gets too much for you, you just leave”, he began, already getting his camera and Ipad to set up in front of the mirror.

"Well, we can freestyle a little choreography. It's even more fun with someone else."

You finally nodded and he smiled with satisfaction.

He set everything up, wrote a short message on Bubble and then started the stream. It took only seconds and you already had several thousand viewers.

Hyunjin greeted the fans and explained that today you would dance together. To your surprise, the comments were full of encouragement and kind comments.

Hyunjin gave you a short look that clearly meant something like: Told you so!

Then he started warming up to a slower song. Meanwhile, you were reading comments, chatting and answering simple questions, but one kept jumping out at you.

"Are you dating Hyunjin?"

You had read the question aloud before you realized it and immediately bit your tongue. But before you could embarrass yourself any further, Hyunjin came closer, knelt behind you, and wrapped his arms around your stomach.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he then said:

"Y/N is like family to me and the other members now. We can't be without her anymore."

He left it at that and you tried to put on a neutral expression. His hands stroked your stomach and there the touch was gone.

Of all the music requests, you finally agreed on ‘Under the Influence’ by Chris Brown, as you realised quickly that you both knew the choreography from a video from the YouTube channel 1MILLION Dance Studio. You noticed that most of the requests in the comments were very erotic songs.

As if that's what the fans wanted to see.

When you went through the Choreo in your head, you got hot and cold at the same time. It was a very intimate dance with lots of naughty but strong movements. The fact that Hyunjin actually wanted to do it live with you made you even more nervous.

Then the time came. You briefly went through the choreography again, then he started the song and you began to move.

The sequences of steps were challenging and quite fast, but it was just as much fun.

You saw Hyunjin's focused gaze in the mirror as you moved in sync, trying to control your breathing as he watched you with those hypnotising glance in his eyes.

You got to the part in the song where you stood close to each other. You put your hand to his chest and felt it rise and fall quickly. That's when he lifted your chin with two fingers and the air immediately became electrically charged. Your breath caught as his lips hovered right in front of yours for a blink.

With a knowing grin on his face, you turned away from each other again and now, strangely, you danced even more in unison.

His movements were full of energy yet fluid, pulling you along with him.

The music wrapped your bodies together and you noticed nothing else but his body, the heated atmosphere and the passion that was only fueled with each eye contact.

Finally you landed in front of him, he put an arm on your shoulder and you rolled your hips against his. He moved his with your ass before you jumped apart again. His eyes sparked as you got down a bit with your back to the camera, supported yourself on your thighs and moved your hips.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, began to change the choreography and made it his own. You let him lead you and enjoyed being so completely in tune with him, even though it was the first time you danced together.

Then he pulled you closer by the hips, which was not part of the choreo. Both hands were firmly on your sides and you leaned back against his chest.

So you let your hips circle with his and as he pulled you even closer with his hands. You felt him press your ass firmly against his bulge. You felt his breath on your neck and smelled his sweet cologne, which immediately clouded your mind.

His body pressed so tightly against yours made you skin tingle at every turn. He made the dance even more suggestive and he knew exactly what he did with each move. Your eyes met in the mirror and you were surprised by the intensity in both your faces. Sweat was on your foreheads and as the song ended, you were breathing heavily.

Your eyes locked and the tension between you was almost unbearable.

You would have loved to dance even closer with him and touch him everywhere. But then you both seemed to remember the stream. You sat down in front of the camera again and the comments went completely crazy.

"Hot!"

"That was insane!"

"You guys look incredibly sexy together!"

And many more were written. Hyunjin smiled contentedly to himself and while you took a breath, people were already asking for the next song.

Suddenly, he put his hand on your leg and closed his fingers around your inner thigh. Perplexed, you quickly stared at the stream, but your legs were not visible on the screen. This stirred up the heat in your belly again and you couldn’t think of anything else but Hyunjin's fingers firmly gripping your inner thigh and the cool metal of his rings that you felt even through your sweatpants.

His hands kept wandering up until he almost touched you where you were longing for him. The heat between your thighs got even worse, when he looked at you, like he didn't know, how cruel his teasing was. But behind that innocent expressions he exactly knew, what he did to you.

It was kind of a revenge. You had no idea how hard he already was, when he saw you dancing to his song.

Hyunjin danced a few more songs by himself and you tried not to look too excited. You worked with him and wanted to look professional, even though everything inside you was screaming to pounce on him. You sat on the sofa behind him, playing with the water bottle in your lap as you watched him.

That's when a message lit up on your phone. Hyunjin was starting Thunderous and kept giving you glances over the mirror. Reading Jisung's name, you opened the message.

"We saw the stream. Go check Twitter!"

You quickly scrolled through Twitter and the first videos started popping up. Fans had already uploaded clips of you dancing together.

You didn't dare to look at the footage, skimming over some of the comments and as you did, the heat was back in your cheeks again.

"Y/N is incredibly hot!"

"OMG. So much tension!"

"We need a dance cover of these two!"

"I can't decide which of the two I'd rather be."

"They're like dancing pornstars."

And tons more messages poured in on your timeline. Pictures showed Hyunjin and you pressed closely together, giving each other almost pornographic looks.

Completely lost in thought, you continued to watch him.

Every muscle of his limbs strained against invisible restraints, as soon as the music changed the tempo. The room was by now dimly lit by the lights on the ceiling, as it must already be the middle of the night. They cast a soft shadow of his long, elegant figure on the floor and you bit your lower lip to think clearly again.

The gentle yet sensual movements of his body captivated you. Your eyes fixed on every movement he made as he lost himself in the music until it finally ended.

It wasn't until he gave you a long look over the mirror that snapped you back into reality. A knowing grin was on his lips as you quickly looked at your phone.

He continued to chat for a while with the fans.

You kept reading the comments until you heard Hyunjin saying goodbye to the fans. You waved from the background and that's when you disappeared from the screen.

Hyunjin's breath went rattling and he grabbed a bottle of water, drinking it completely while standing.

"You were amazing!", he then said when his breathing returned back to normal. Distracted by your phone, you slowly stood up and smiled excitedly at him.

That's when he also glanced at his phone and raised his eyebrows.

"That was quick", he muttered, tossing the empty plastic bottle onto the sofa.

"I knew the fans would go crazy for you!", he said after a few minutes of silently scrolling through his messages. When he lifted his eyes, he caught you staring at him and began to grin.

"I wouldn't mind if we did this more often", he added, tossing his phone onto the sofa as well.

"Yeah, that was fun", you replied, and as soon as he took a longer look at you again, the dangerous glint entered his eyes. The tension between you returned in a flash and to dispel the muddled thoughts, you quickly turned to the mirror and stared at your phone.

"Strange... You weren't so shy when you were dancing", he said aloud and you heard his footsteps getting closer. His voice became a shade deeper and you held your breath as you felt his chest brush against your back.

"You know, I can hardly concentrate when you look at me like that when I dance..."

Being alone with him was so much more exhilarating and, more importantly, dangerous, than you could have imagined.

Your breath caught as you felt his fingers on the back of your neck. Like fine brush strokes, he trailed down your spine, and along the way took your phone from you with his other hand and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

Then his fingers were firmly on your hip, pushed the waistband of your string down a bit and gripped your skin tightly. Immediately a gasp escaped you and with a glance in the mirror you saw his soft grin.

"You have no reason to be this shy around me, Princess.”

The firm passion in his grip made you breathe a startled sigh and almost automatically, you grinded your ass against him. With one hand, he held your hip firmly pressed against his so that you could feel his length, which by now was getting harder and harder.

You could even feel its enormous size through the fabric.

The other hand slowly closed around your neck and pushed your head to the side as he began to spread wet kisses on your neck.

Your head was so foggy now that you were unconscious to anything but the heat growing between your legs, and you whimpered softly as he sank his teeth into your soft skin at the crook of your neck. He sucked, licked and bit into the sensitive spots, making you squeeze your thighs together to make the tension a little more bearable.

Your eyelids fluttered as he continued to rub his hard length against your ass, and as he did you felt his breathing become more raspy.

The hand on your neck closed tighter around it and you tried to listen to your mind, but you were already overcome by his charms.

"Your skin tastes even sweeter than I thought", he breathed close to your ear and he slid the strap of your sports bra off your shoulder to continue working your skin with his seductive plush lips.

"Jinnie...", you gasped, overwhelmed, as he pinched your side with one hand before sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

That's when he finally let go of your neck for a second and looked over the mirror into your face. He looked outrageously sexy as he tilted his head slightly and looked at you questioningly.

"What are you doing?", you asked, swallowing hard. You could already see the red bruises he had sucked into your pale skin.

"Ever since I caught you here, dancing to my song, like a fucking stripper, sweaty and in those clothes... I've had to restrain myself from ripping them right off."

The pressure of his hand around your throat tightened, and immediately heat shot to each of your limbs.

"I can't, Hyunjin", you whispered desperately, clinging to his arm that was around your neck. He wasn't going to let you go.

"Why would you think that, princess?"

"I'm your manager. If anyone finds out..."

"So you don't like it?" he asked with a challenging tone.

"I...", that's all you dared to say.

"So you're not as turned on as I am right now?", he murmured in your ear and you forced yourself to shake your head. Even though you couldn't think of something else than his bare skin on yours. You wanted him so bad that it already hurts.

Immediately his full lips twisted into an amused smile.

"Are you sure about this?"

You fingers were still digging firmly into his arm, when he released his hand at your hip and slid it down your pants. He licked his lips as he first gently stroked his fingers over your core and then pressed two fingers firmly against the completely soaked fabric of your thong.

Your knees went weak and you rolled your hips against his with a gasp.

"You're already that wet for me, princess? That's really naughty... Should we do something about that?"

His sweet words continued to twist your mind and as he began to slowly circle his fingers, you buried your face against his neck. He continued to hold your upright in front of him and murmured:

"All you have to do is say something and I'll stop."

At that moment he gave more pressure directly onto your clit. In response, something very close to a moan escaped from your lips. With his hand on your neck, he lifted your chin to make you look at him.

He enjoyed every gasp, every desperate flutter of your eyelids, and in one motion pushed your underwear aside. Before you can prepare, he sinked two of his long fingers inside you and looked proudly at your lips that are parted in shock.

Then he started pumping them inside you, hitting all the right spots immediately. If he wouldn't had pressed you tightly against him, your legs would have dropped as he slid another finger inside you.

"You look so damn beautiful, so desperate with my fingers inside you. I wonder what you'd look like with my dick pounding into your sweet little cunt..."

Your high rolled in so hard you moaned his name several times, and he only quickened the pace of his hand.

"Now I know what Chan meant... You're really hard to resist. You know that all of us want to fuck you since the day you came through that door?"

He was mesmerised by those little cries and sobs you let slip when he's toying with your aching pussy, fingers rubbing at your swollen nub and cooing at you so mockingly as you try to cover your glassy eyes from him.

That was enough to push you over the top. Overwhelmed, you came faster than you ever had in your life and Hyunjin caught your moans with a kiss, which he deepened as he pumped his fingers inside you a few more times. You quickly reached for his face and returned the kiss desperately like you would drown otherwise.

His tongue stroked your lower lip and immediately he pushed it into your mouth. The kiss was messy and dirty, but he had just made you come so hard with just his fingers that your head was completely blank.

When you finally broke away from each other, breathing heavily, he slipped his hand out of your panties, pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean.

"You even taste intoxicating", he said, now gently stroking your hair out of your face.

"You look tired. I'll have a cab come for you."

As if nothing had ever happened, he went over to his phone and contacted a cab for you. Gradually, your sanity returned and you just couldn't believe what had just happened.

Only a short time later, you were sitting in the cab trying to sort out your thoughts.

Hyunjin had given you one last intense kiss before you could leave and you didn't understand anything anymore. His lips on yours felt electrifying and your skin didn’t stop tingling.

First of all the situation with Chan and then this....

Your life could hardly get any crazier.

-> Part 6

——————————————————————-

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[her-devils-advocate]

Year 850, then; Year 854, now

pairings: Levi Ackerman x (GN!) reader

genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, fluff and comfort, angst, angst and fluff

summary: Two tender moments between you and Levi after being injured in battle, leaving him to worry and look after you in his own ways.

Warning for the ending of aot spoilers

word count: 3,765

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54818275

Year 850, then:

It had been a gruelling expedition, one that had resulted in a multitude of casualties, including your own. It was a routine mission, you and your squad had been tasked with surveying the land, finding the safest route to one of the scout bases and supplying it ahead of time. You only needed to bring simple necessities like spare food and medical equipment that the upcoming squad would require during their stay there, as well as clearing out any titans that had happened to be found along the way. A small risk, all things considered.

On paper, it was one of the safest missions that the scouts had taken in a while. After the previous expedition had resulted in many deaths, the scouts had put a small pause on activity outside the walls while everyone recovered and re-evaluated future missions.

Levi had scoffed at the mention of Erwin sending you as the squad leader, mumbling under his breath that such a mission was beneath you and your team. You had reassured him that you were the best choice; that it would be a simple in-and-out mission. You and your team would be back before he knew it.

“I still don’t see why we are bothering to send you of all people on a supply run to that dusty old base. What a waste of time and resources when you should be focusing on training your team. How are you supposed to prepare your team for the upcoming missions while wasting energy supplying another?”

“Levi, it’s alright.” You remember the smile that lights up your face when you see him roll his eyes, his lips pursed in what was definitely not a pout. The captain would never do such a thing, of course. That's what he told you when you gleefully pointed it out, at least.

“Having me lead the squad is probably just a precaution, in case anything happens. I highly doubt that we will encounter many titans, if any. You know the route is usually empty each time we send out supplies. I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“Tch, sure. If anything, it will give me the peace I need to finish that paperwork.”

You mentally cursed yourself for tempting the universe to put you in your place, forcing you to eat your words.

On paper, it was a simple task. 

In actuality, the pouring rain obscured your vision, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you as the dark clouds dimmed the world around you. The heavy rain mixed with the steady march of the horses along the ground. Their hooves drummed against the wet earth, vibrating through your cold and tense body, splashing through the slowly growing puddles. The howling wind echoed in your ears, taking the words of your squad and drifting them up to the dark clouds above. 

It was a perfect recipe for disaster, especially when neither you nor your team could spot the two abnormal titans rapidly approaching your position. 

The last thing you remember is the shooting pain as one of the titans reached its elongated limb to swipe at your horse, sending you flying through the air and crashing into the ground.

That's how you find yourself lying in a lumpy bed, the scratchy material rubbing against the sections of tender skin not currently covered in bandages. You sit up with a small wince, pain rolling over you in long waves at the motion. You carefully wiggle your arms and legs, happy to feel them move at your command despite the hot flush of pain. 

Hange and Commander Erwin arrive shortly after you wake, sitting beside you and keeping you company as you give your report of the mission. They don't miss the way your eyes flicker with shame, guilt reflecting in your eyes for not noticing the danger until it was too late, despite battling the elements. 

You are usually careful once you and your squad are in Titan territory, always on high alert and on the watch for the slightest hint of danger. While it’s not the first time you’ve found yourself on the bad side of luck, the guilt and feelings of failure never seem to lessen. 

“You will be happy to know that everyone survived. They are a bit battered here and there, but your squad will be alright in time. You are the most injured out of everyone, in fact, congrats!” Hange says, amusement and relief shining in their eyes as they watch you sigh, sinking deeper into the frustratingly stiff pillows.

“That is good news, thank you Hange. Not that I don't appreciate you both visiting me, seeing both of your faces certainly helps to brighten my day, when I’m not in trouble or receiving bad news, that is.” 

You hear the two chuckle, despite being friends with Erwin, you have forced his hand enough to be given a few small slaps on the wrist in the past. 

“But where's Levi? I figured he would be here to lecture me on getting injured at the very least.”

Erwin gives you a knowing smile, sitting up in his chair a little straighter, “Don't worry, I’m positive that you won't get away from that lecture. I've already gotten my version from him at least twice now.”

You raise your eyebrow quizzically, you knew of Levi’s frustrations with the mission yet you never figured he would chew Erwin out over it.

Before he has a chance to continue, Hange lets out a loud laugh, desperate to share a fact they know Levi would happily keep to himself.

“Shorty refused to leave your side when you were brought in, even with the medics stating that he was getting in their way. He only left just before you woke up to fetch you some food, claiming you're ‘a damn brat when hungry’.” 

They lower their voice to mimic him while crossing their arms and glaring as they speak. You let out a small, surprised giggle, the action causing you to wince as your ribs protest.

“You know, if anything, he’s probably going to be even more pissed that you decided to wake up after he left,” Hange says with a small wink.

As if on cue, Levi opens the door with one hand, carefully balancing a plate of unusual food on the other.

“I got held up by the damn brats. Braus and Springer found me in the kitchen and decided to take over, wanting to show me a secret they had when it came to making the most out of our shitty reserves or something. I figured there was no harm, those kiddos have been vibrating with nerves ever since they got the news.”

He pauses once he takes in the sight before him, his eyes widen when he finally spots you awake. You give him a warm smile as you see the relief that washes over him. His eyes linger on you briefly before he clears his throat, trying to push down the visible urge to rush over to you despite the small audience. 

“Apparently they have found a way to make eating potatoes for the hundredth time in a row more exciting for them. Didn't bother to share that with the rest of us. They also told me not to share this information with Erwin since they don't want to be lectured on using our reserves for their little experiment.” 

Levi turns to the man in question, ignoring the amusement glinting in Erwin's eyes as Levi’s glare hardens. “I told the kids that the day they get to tell me what to do will be the day all the titans are finally killed, once and for all.”

You can’t help the giggles that erupt from you despite trying to hold back, rapidly dissolving into loud laughter that only grows even more frantic when Hange joins in. Their laughter is even louder as they grasp at their sides, rapidly running out of breath themselves. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to catch your own breath, bringing a hand to clutch at your tender ribs as each gasp causes the pain to flare angrily. 

“Oi, what’s so funny, you two?” Levi’s displeased voice cuts through the growing chaos, only betrayed by the subtle redness of his ears and the softness of his eyes as he watches you struggle to compose yourself. Hange waves their hand in his direction, yet each time they try to speak, more giggles slip from their lips. 

He scoffs before shoving the plate onto your lap, mindful to avoid your injuries before pulling Hange out of the chair beside your bed and settling down into it, ignoring their cries of protest.

“Hey! I was sat there first, shorty. Erwin!” “Yeah, well I’m sat here now, four-eyes. Don’t you have a titan to go poke? And you,” Levi turns to glare at Erwin, who was simply content to watch his soldiers bicker despite their positions, “don’t you have some paperwork to fill out or something?”

The tall blonde slowly stands from his chair, ushering Hange out of the room alongside him before turning towards you with a kind expression.

“We know when we have overstayed our welcome, we wish you a speedy recovery.”

You give Erwin a small nod before looking down at the food placed on your lap. You notice the thin slices of potato that had been cooked until they were crisped. You glance up at Levi, raising a single eyebrow.

“Don’t ask me, the cadets wanted to make something nice for you. They were worried.”

Once Erwin and Hange can be heard moving further down the medical wing while Hange happily chats the other’s ear off, Levi moves from the chair he had rudely claimed. He nudges you, silently requesting you to shuffle over to give him room on the uncomfortable bed. Once he is settled, you rest your head on his shoulder as he carefully brings his arm around you, protectively pulling you close to his side.

“Just them?”

“Tch, shut up and eat your meal.”

Year 854, now:

Thick clouds of dust begin to settle over the ruined ground, it sticks to your hot skin as you breathe heavily. Silence uncomfortably blankets everyone as they let the moment sink in. You had done it, you had all succeeded. Not that it feels like a success.

Your whole body screams out with each movement you make, you had stopped keeping up with your injuries hours ago, simply having more important things to focus on. The stakes were too high to risk caring for every injury. The adrenalin and fear had kept the pain manageable as you pushed your body to its limits, but now, nothing can help as you try to stifle your whimpers.

You don’t know how to feel, already emotionally and physically past your breaking point. You can hear Armin wail somewhere behind you, the sound is haunting as each scream stabs deep into your heart. You don’t want to turn around; you can’t will yourself to do so. You know you should be there to help comfort everyone, but your body is frozen. You’ve always been good at lending a comforting shoulder to the 104th cadets in the past, but now you doubt that anything you do could bring any peace to them.

With Armin's sobs breaking the tense silence, sound reluctantly returns to the world. The bitter victory has no celebration, only relieved sighs and mourning.

You spot Levi from a distance, perched against a fallen rock. Dark blood slowly oozes out from his extended leg, having been broken multiple times and further injured during the final battle. 

You allow yourself to feel happy, knowing that he will be alright and that you are both alive. 

Your stubborn body unfreezes, despite the pain and exhaustion, allowing you to slowly stumble your way towards him. Your eyes are glued to the destroyed ground as you approach your captain. You take the time to rack your brain of things to say, what can you even say after everything you have both been through? Everything feels too casual, too insignificant compared to the lifelong trauma, both the physical and mental kind, that has been thrust upon you both in the past couple of weeks. You feel selfish for your happiness at his survival, having said too many goodbyes in such a short period. Too many good people have been lost in the twisted war.

“Well, look who showed up…”

Levi’s tired voice stops you in your tracks and your question dies in your throat with a quiet choke when you look up to the crowd now surrounding you. 

They are all there: Erwin, Hange and their squad, Levi’s squad, and the dozens of scouts that had risked everything to get you both where you are now. Your eyes blur with thick tears as you catch Hange’s eye, gazing at you in sadness. You want to scream, to run away, to run up and embrace them. You try to compose yourself, but the tears pour down your cheeks when you see the spirits of your squad smiling at you in pride. 

“Hey boss, you’re looking pretty banged up” The tall redhead of your group approaches, you remember the day he first joined your squad, all smiles and false confidence. Next to him stands his closest friend, you had chosen both of them at the same time, not wishing to split them apart. Next to them is your second in command, a quiet girl with a strong heart.

“Hi Leon, you can say that again. It’s good to see you again… It’s really good to see you all.” Your voice wavers as you take in the sight of them all, you gradually lost them one by one. Some before Eren’s little stunt, some after. Yet each loss hit hard.

“We’re proud of you, we knew you could do it.”

Your team salute you and the captain one last time before joining the others, fading away with a mixture of emotions on their faces. Some are sad to leave you both behind, some are happy to have gotten a final goodbye at last and some are relieved to see you still alive.

You take in a deep breath, willing your bruised heart to slow down before it bursts out of your chest. Your hands feel numb and you feel your body begin to shake as your mind tries to catch up.

“Oi, sit down before you hurt yourself even more. You look like you're about to pass out.” Levi’s voice is void of emotion as his damp eye looks up at you in concern. You sigh before waddling over to him, your body feels like stone as you collapse against the hard rock, being careful to keep a gap between your bodies, not wanting to possibly hurt him.

“I feel like I might, I also feel like I’m about to be sick.” In any other situation, you would laugh at the way his face scrunches up in disgust at the thought.

“If you do that, you better lean the other way. I don’t want to be covered in it.”

You allow yourself to let out an amused scoff, it feels unnatural to laugh as you scoot closer to him to lean your pounding head against his shoulder.

“Aye aye, captain.” You weakly raise your fist to your heart, giving him a lighthearted salute. You hear a small scoff of his own in return. 

“How…how are you doing?” Your whispered words crack as they fall past your lips and you feel him stiffen beside you.

“Good question, you?”

“...Good question, I’m going to go with tired for now.” You can feel your energy quickly fade as black splotches begin to take over your vision, and your body feels light and heavy at the same time.

Levi’s hand brushes your own. He gingerly takes your hand, softly rubbing circles into the back of your hand. “I’m going to need you to control your breathing, you’ve already lost a lot of blood with your current injuries. I need you to stay awake until we can get you sorted. Alright?” 

You give him a non-committal hum in response as you try to keep your eyes open. They feel like lead and you want nothing more than to fade into the warm embrace that sleep would bring. 

Even besides Levi, the panic continues to swirl around you, dancing maliciously with the pain and nausea. A part of you knows that there is no reason to be scared, you won, yet everything is still unknown. Where do you go from here? Can either of you last for much longer in your sorry states?

Before you can get too lost in your mind, a sharp wave of pain rushes through you when Levi gives you a gentle jab with his elbow, his eyebrows are furrowed with worry as you let out a deep grunt.

“I’m serious, don’t you dare fall asleep until we know you’re in the clear. Do you hear me?”

His words are harsh and yet you can hear the frantic worry that's hidden just below the surface. You want to reply, to tease him for his worry, just like old times, but when you go to open your mouth, you feel as if you are miles away. The world grows darker and the part of you that's not overwhelmed with panic feels guilty for the added stress now thrown onto Levi.

Light chatter surrounds you when you open your eyes, you squint as the harsh sunlight invades your vision. You can feel a thin blanket covering your body and a stiff pillow supporting your head; you feel groggy as you try to take in your surroundings and you mumble incoherently. The chatter dies instantly, a blurry head popping up in your light of sight, blocking the sunlight peaking through the medical tent flap.

“Captain Levi, they’re awake!” Connie’s voice booms through the small, cramped tent. You wince as his voice pierces through your skull, causing it to pound angrily. You had hoped you could sleep through the worst of your injuries, but you have never had the best luck.

“We can see that, quiet down.” Levi’s voice causes your heart to lighten. You groan as you bring yourself to sit up within the medical cot, Levi’s hands holding onto you tightly as he helps guide your stubborn self into a comfortable sitting position.

Connie is hovering nervously by the side of your bed, while Jean and Armin are sitting on the floor nearby. Levi has claimed the singular chair within the tent, placing it as close to the cot as possible. His leg has been wrapped up in bandages once more while his old ones have been replaced with clean ones. You scan his body for any more serious injuries, relaxing when nothing new stands out.

“Hey, I’m alright. We’re all okay.” Levi gives you a knowing look as the rest of the group nods in reassurance.

“Mikasa has already left…She wanted to leave with Eren before…They wouldn’t have given him a decent burial here.” Jean says awkwardly, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

“Way to make things depressing, Jean.”

“Alright, how would you have told them, Connie? I would love to know.”

“Enough, don’t start, you two.” The pair stiffen as Levi’s gruff voice cuts their bickering short.

“Sorry, captain.”

You watch the shenanigans in amusement, your eyes shining with more tears as you take the moment in. They are all okay, they will be okay. The gloom that surrounds you all begins to vanish as a new form of normalcy tries to settle in. 

Levi gives them a stern look before slowly standing from his chair. You watch as he grits his teeth, doing his best to keep his mask of nonchalance firmly in place despite the agony he feels. 

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think? I’m going to find you something to eat. You’ve been asleep for hours and I know you haven’t managed to eat much during all the bullshit.” “Levi…” “What? You’re a damn brat when hungry, it’s more for our sake than yours.” You can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face despite your concern. You can hear the others snicker, trying to stifle their amusement before he turns on them as well. 

“Oh, captain. It’s alright, please sit down.” Armin rushes up to Levi, his hands hovering before him as if he’s scared to try and place them upon Levi. After a moment of uncertainty, Armin proceeds to gently help Levi sit back down. Your heart warms as you watch Levi reluctantly accept their help without any pushback.

“Connie has already sorted out the snacks,” Armin explains in response to Levi’s questioning glare.

“Yeah, I found a basket of fruit and sandwiches that everyone had put together when we made the camp. Before anyone says anything, I know it’s bad considering…yeah…but I managed to swipe a few for us.”

You thank Connie as he tosses a slightly squashed sandwich in your direction, not realising just how hungry you are as you bite into it. You feel Levi’s hand grasp yours as he slowly eats his own. A peaceful silence falls over the tent, only to be quickly broken.

“Hey, Armin. That was pretty brave of you, y’know.” Connie’s loud whispering catches the attention of everyone as you all slowly turn to watch the pair. Armin raises his eyebrows, confusion plastered clearly on his face.

“Telling the captain what to do like that. I’d have fainted if I were in your shoes.” “Well…” Armin takes a moment to consider his words, a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Remember 4 years ago? He did say we could tell him what to do when all the titans were dead.”

Your eyes widen as your shoulders begin to shake with restrained laughter. Jean and Connie are frozen in shock as Levi lets out a loud groan.

“I was hoping you kids had forgotten that, don’t get cocky.”

You don’t miss the way his voice softens as the group's playful behaviour sinks in. You squeeze his hand, receiving a light squeeze in return when you shuffle to lean closer to him.

His voice is low, just loud enough for you to make out his whispered words. 

“I think we’re going to be alright.”

“Yeah, I think we will be.”