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bridgetotheskyyy · 29 days

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Filthy Clean

cw: You and Levi have a clean rivalry lmaoo. levi x f! reader, smut, 18+, shower sex, fingering, face slapping, slight cum play, mild dubcon, praise kink, cum swallowing, creampie. I HATE posting fics on tumblr with a passionnnn but I thought you guys would enjoy this one. I posted this to ao3 a while ago but I'm still in my levi era lmaoo. wc 6.9k.

Men were disgusting.

The dirt the younger cadets trudged into the barracks and lounging areas did not discriminate, but the filth the male cadets managed to accumulate was truly unmatched. Beds unmade, toilets unflushed, and had none of them heard of a fucking coaster?

Or a napkin?

You leaned farther so your swiping hand might reach the table’s full breadth. You wiped in wide, angry circles. You’d be here for ages trying to get the grime off the table, gathering the courage needed to tackle the bathrooms.

“Ugh.” Your washcloth came across something unidentifiably sticky. “Fucking gross …”

So consumed were you with your task you did not see the hand come to meet yours until it was too late, and your pinkies met.

You blinked.

“Oi.”

You looked up to see a dark-haired man fixing you with a glare, the majority of his face obscured by a handkerchief.

“What are you doing?”

You frowned. “Cleaning this table.”

The man straightened. “Well” — he snatched your washcloth from your grasp — “you’re doing a shitty job.”

“Hey!”

“Just let me do it.”

“It’s my job.”

“Hah?” A brow raised in question your way. “Someone’s paying you to do such a shitty job?”

“I’m not!” You were truly flustered now. “I’m doing as good of a job as I can with how filthy people are here!”

“Tch.” The man’s sharp eyes cast down to the table. “That we can agree on.”

“And” — you grabbed your cloth — “you shouldn’t take what isn’t yours.”

You ignored the heat of the man’s appraisal. He can stare at my ass all he likes. You hummed. “Who are you anyway?” You asked, layering the wooden table with more solution.

His eyes widened. “How do you not …?”

“I don’t keep tabs on everybody in this infernal regiment.” You scrubbed angrily at the sticky table — was it fucking gum or something? “So, I wouldn’t know if you were famous.”

You looked up in time to see the man undo his handkerchief to reveal —

You froze.

Levi. Ackerman.

The Levi Ackerman.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

… Fuck.

“Oh my god …” You straightened, suddenly feeling foolish with the supplies in your hands. “Captain …”

“How the hell do you not know who I am?”

“You —“ You stammered. What should you do? Should you put down the cloth? Should you leave? Fuckfuckfuck. “I — You had that …” You gestured to the handkerchief. “That thing on your face!”

“The handkerchief doesn’t cover up my voice.”

You gobbed like a fish, face flushed from embarrassment. “I —“

“Tch, it’s fine,” he waved you off. “Just let me tackle this room — or stay; you might learn something.”

The humiliation was almost too much. Almost.

“Sir.” You cleared your throat, arm akimbo. “I’m very sure I know what I’m doing.”

Another inquisitive eyebrow. “That so?”

You recognized the challenge in his voice and stretched the cloth — flack — with a tilt of your head. “Yeah,” You said, the edge of your mouth twitching to add, “sir.”

Levi straightened himself again to his full height (which wasn’t much) and took three intimidating steps toward you. You stood your ground as he reared on you, looking you dead in the eye:

“We’ll see about that.”

After that, you were sure you’d be fired.

You’d been fired by (figuratively) smaller men for far less. The others cleaning girls were in a tizzy that, somehow, you had squared off with Humanity’s Strongest and were ravenous for developments as soon as you had something to tell. You weren’t sure you’d last that long. Surely you’d be getting canned any moment now.

But instead something far more bizarre was happening: it seemed you were now in a cleaning war with the squad captain of the Special Operations Squad.

Everywhere you went, the work was already done. Walls scrubbed. Floorboards wiped. Curtains dusted. Limestone’s ass kicked. Even the heinous bathrooms had been tackled by a brave, meticulous set of hands — and you had an inkling those hands were calloused and attached to a pipsqueak.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when a tale of the captain scrubbing one of the barracks had reached you. Apparently, Levi’d done a stunning job — until he noticed a fucking boot print on his flawless floor. All the trembling cadets were rounded up to find a boot match like a scene from some fairy tale, and eventually the print was proven to belong to none other than Eren Jaeger.

Why was it always fucking Eren Jeager.

By the end of the second week of this cleanathon, you were sprinting to the currently unused dining hall, slamming the doors opened:

Tables glistened, floors polished … You turned your head to the windows … windows you could use as fucking mirrors —

“Son of a bitch!” You shot arms to your sides before storming out, two cadets making way for you.

Sunday evening, the horse stables were all you had left; you shuffled hay and tended to the equine beauties as best you could, spurred on now by a newfound enthusiasm for your job. By sundown, the hay was stacked, the floors were wiped, the cedar like brand new.

“Ha! Could be someone’s living quarters.” You turned, satisfied, to the horses with hands at your hips. “Not too shabby, huh?”

One of them huffed at you, blowing hair from your face.

“You must be his,” You scoffed before exiting the stables.

You were proud, but you were tired. The showers were empty by the time you stepped into one to use, pleasantly ignoring the suspicious sheen with which everything glistened as you wheeled the knob to hot. You sighed as water fit to rival hellfire rained down on your aching muscles. You lathered and rinsed, fit to remove the day’s grime.

Another labored sigh. Finally, some time to —

The door burst open. You shrieked, spun, covering yourself.

“Get out —!”

“Relax.” Levi, of all people, stepped into view. “It’s just me.”

“My order still stands! Get outwhatthehellareyoudoing —“

“I give the orders.”

Realizing he wouldn’t leave, you scoffed, spinning back toward the shower head. “Can’t believe this,” you murmured. “I can’t wait to report this and let everyone know the captain is a perv —“

“I said relax,” Levi said, not a step out of place (beyond the obvious). “I won’t do anything.”

“Oh, what a comfort …”

“… You did a good job today.”

You blinked, forearms still crisscrossed over your chest. Was that a compliment? You tilted your head, as disturbed as you were intrigued. “Come again?”

“You do have some skills when it comes to cleaning, I’ll give you that,” Levi droned from behind. “Peroxide with a hint of lemon? Definitely more than a rookie.”

Fuck. Even his compliments were nestled in insults. “And this couldn’t wait until after I took a shower?”

Soft rustling; you could only imagine him crossing his arms, staring at your naked back. “I wanna to see if you keep it up.”

What did that mean? You looked down at the nest of suds cradled in your cleavage. And you understood: he wanted to watch you clean yourself.

“You’re a weirdo.” You shook your head. But, understanding he wouldn’t leave, hardened yourself to this new challenge. You wouldn’t be intimidated. You carried on as though no one were watching, finishing what you had started.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he spoke up as you bent down to lather a leg.

“Shut —“ You froze, sucking your lips into your mouth. “Sir …” You couldn’t abuse him … he was still a captain … Why did that matter he was fucking watching you take a shower —

“Tch.” There was that odd sound from him again, but was it just you or was it now tinged with amusement. “Think we’re beyond formalities now, don’t you think?”

You didn’t answer. Your face grew hot as you rose to full height, allowing the shower water to wash the accumulated suds away. You didn’t know what you thought; you were mildly dizzy, the heat and situation doing something to you. Why were you letting this happen, letting a man watch you shower?

… Why were you liking it?

You were about to turn and face Levi to get out when he clicked his teeth:

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

You saw Levi grasp your shoulder. You gasped, nearly slipping as you turned, at last, to face him.

“Wait,” You said as your back hit the wall.

But he was there, fully clothed, the shower water getting his hair and uniform wet.

“You’re …” You watched him get drenched. “You’re all wet now.”

Levi’s eyes flickered to yours. “So are you.”

Your lips parted but no words came. Dark strands clung to his face now, and you refused to admit how good he looked. His hands were on you — hands much softer than they should’ve been. He swiped the washcloth from you, threw it away. Levi took the soap from you and treated your skin to a thorough lathering with his bare hands. Calloused hands that should’ve been rough and harsh caressed your neck.

“People always forget their neck,” Levi murmured.

Lines of foam ran down the valley of your breasts, to your stomach. Suds nestled in your belly button as Levi’s hands came to your sides and tugged, motioning for you to turn over.

You made to protest — didn’t. Wordlessly, you turned around for him. His hands cleansed you of the sweat accumulated in your crevices. He massaged into your back, caressed the tension from your shoulders. Levi’s thumb dipped in the small of your back and you suppressed a sound, whatever it had turned into unknown to you and him both. Your trembling hands pressed to the wall when you sensed him bend forward to knead into the skin of your thigh. You squirmed, biting your lip at the moan his meticulous hands fought to elicit. Levi’s hand reached forward and grazed the pert skin of your nipple. At an honest to god moan you couldn’t repress, Levi paused.

“I …” You kept still under his gaze.

It was a relief when seconds later Levi resumed his ministrations.

“Want you fucking spotless,” he said, and you believed him. His hands worked in tandem with the hot water to cleanse you. Levi worked your breasts, cupping them from behind, offering them to the water to be dowsed of suds. Fingers you knew were purposeful grazed at your excited nubs in the process. A hand, once gripped firm at your waist, breached the gap of your legs, a finger sliding over the slit of your vulva.

You gasped through the moan. “I — I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything.”

“That was before I saw how lackluster your methods were.”

“My meth —“ You bit your lip as Levi’s finger grazed your clit. “I — I hardly see how this is supposed to help me get clean, captain.”

At the title, Levi groaned in your ear, lips brushing against your shoulder.

You ignored the thrum of pleasure in your cunt. “Why would I need to be — ah — clean from the inside?”

“Quiet.” His finger threatened to slip into your moist entrance, your natural slick assisting in this endeavor. “If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t be asking that.”

“I don’t think —“

“If you had a problem, you wouldn’t be fucking drenched, either.”

“Ah …” Your forehead thudded against the wall, your skin hot. Everything hot. You couldn’t argue; even the shower water couldn’t wash away evidence of your want.

“And now you’re gonna make an even bigger fucking mess, aren’t you?”

Despite the haranguing, Levi only pressed closer, the fabric of his jacket adding friction to your damp skin. His finger teased the ring of your entrance, teasing, daring.

You moaned when Levi abandoned your hole to concentrate on teasing your clit. He tended to it with the slightest touch, so removed you began to think his touch only imagined.

“I — I’m too achy to —“

“Do you ever shut up?” Levi snapped. “I’ve already told you.” His lips were at your ear now, his chin sitting in the crook of your neck. “Not asking for you to reciprocate. Just let me do it …”

You gripped Levi’s forearms as his finger slipped past the ring of your entrance with shameful ease. You bent forward, squeezing your legs around his hand. Your lips parted with a shuddering moan when his fingertips brushed the roof of your g-spot growing ever jagged.

“Didn’t think it would be this easy,” he spoke into your ear. “Just letting me in, hm? Fucking freak …”

You looked over your shoulder to Levi already staring at you. You did not need this. You did not need Levi, wet and close and hair dangling in his gorgeous face, mocking you.

Another finger slid in to meet the first. You clawed at the shower wall, growing feral.

Levi withdrew them.

“Wait,” You murmured. “What?”

His brows furrowed. “Do you want this?”

You scoffed. “Really?”

He studied your face. “Wanted to be sure,” he murmured, his arms caging you in.

You turned to face him. You pressed into him, your forehead meeting his. After all this, now he asked? But a part of you was endeared by his asking. Despite his foul mouth and gruff disposition, you didn’t fear him.

You found his hand and guided it back to your wanting cunt. “Yes.”

Not needing to be told twice, Levi hand roped to your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. You weren’t caught by surprise; you opened your mouth for him to explore while his two fingers returned to their mission of exploring you. His groan caught in your mouth and went straight to your cunt, inciting a new layer of slick to coat Levi’s fingers.

“Thought so,” he muttered into your mouth. He abandoned your mouth just as he invited a third finger into your weeping hole, his lips traversing the length of your jaw.

You were a moaning, sobbing mess, grinding against his fingers. You couldn’t take all this stroking, probing, stretching. The shower water pebbled your skin, the incessant dribble sensitizing your heated skin. Levi was driving his fingers into you now, assaulting the tender spot within to drive you feral. You entwined a leg around his with a whimper, your head falling against the wall to widen the expanse of skin Levi’s lips could torment. His thumb tweaked randomly at your clit, the uncertainty of when he would reward the nub with attention only driving you further toward the edge of the cliff. He nibbled, bit into your neck and you all but jumped into his arms, all dignity forgotten.

“Go ahead,” he said when you squeezed his digits, your breathing heavy on his shoulder, “bet you look pretty when you come.”

His voice, as though your climax was the most predictable thing in the world, sent you over the edge. With an onset of broken moans you came, nearly ripping the arms from Levi’s jacket as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. You drenched his fingers, saw through vision bleared by water and steam and drowse, how they had turned pruney playing in your snatch once Levi at last pulled them out of you. He held you up with a hand, your legs turned boneless and useless under your lasting throes.

Levi inspected his fingers as you caught your breath. He bent down to retrieve your abandoned washcloth and wiped his fingers clean.

“Levi …” You murmured as he did it, your senses returning slowly but surely. “What …?”

He turned back to you, fixing your back against the wall again as he captured your mouth in another kiss, not as rough as the first, but affirmative. A statement. He withdrew and you, eyes closed, followed him until you realized he was truly through with the kiss and opened your eyes.

He wiggled his fingers, almost to taunt you. “I was right,” he said, a flicker of a smirk there. “Fucking pretty.”

You’d lost all control over your life.

Afterwards, you often found yourself frequenting the same spaces with Levi, places you were meant to be cleaning but would end up as sanctuaries so Levi might fuck you into oblivion inside them.

More than once you’d cried out as he crashed you into the wall, arms wrapped around each other, passion overcoming dull reason always.

“Levi!”

“Keep it down!” he would hiss in your ear before nibbling the lobe attached. “Want the whole headquarters to hear us fucking?”

And then you would clean. Thoroughly. Meticulously. There were never any traces of your sudden trysts, you both made sure of that.

What was happening? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if you were suddenly the captain’s girlfriend or something. Right?

Right?

… Right?

“Are you the captain’s girlfriend?”

You startled away from Potato Girl, who had somehow materialized by your side, nearly falling off the step you sat on in the process.

“Sasha!” Jean Kirstein reprimanded. He graced you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her.” To Sasha: “You can’t just sneak up on people you don’t know and ask them —“

“But it’s clear something’s going on, isn’t it?” Sasha said. “I heard Mike say the other day that —!”

“No!” You cried. Do these fuckers do anything but gossip? You were reminded of your grandmother, who had once said the military was nothing but death and gossip. “No, you — you don’t understand. The captain and I — we’re just friends. We like cleaning, that’s all.”

Jean’s blush belied his nod toward you. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Sasha said. “Captain Levi would fall head over heels for a girl who can clean as well as you!”

Jean ran a hand over his face. “Sasha …” Exasperation made his voice heavy.

“It’s okay,” You assured him before turning to Sasha with a smile, your voice fit for addressing a child when you said, “The truth is, I don’t know why Captain Levi’s taken such a liking to me. I’m just happy to make him proud. But I promise: nothing untoward has ever occurred between the captain and myself.”

How well you could lie through your teeth. Should you be proud or ashamed? Untoward … Levi’s fingers sank into your cunt; his cockhead twitching on your cervix; a mouth full of —

Boy, could you lie.

Sasha scrutinized your face. Seemingly satisfied, she said, with a disappointed dip in her voice, “All right. But tell us if that changes! We want the best for the captain and only want him to be happy!”

Strangely heartwarmed by her comment, you nodded to the both of them. “You got it!”

And you’d thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t; you were doomed to have a couple more run-ins with members of the Special Operations: a few cadets once eyed you surreptitiously in the hallway. And on the last day of the week while on your way to dust the shelves of the library, a little blonde boy caught sight of you and promptly scurried away, a book tucked in his armpit, leaving the library hilariously bare.

“Oh, come on!” You said, the lack of people affording you moxy. “If I was really fucking a captain, don’t you think I’d have gotten a raise by now? Hello?!”

“You wanted to see me, Commander?”

Levi shut the door. The moment Levi walked into the Commander’s office, he knew what he was in for. Erwin wasn’t alone; Hange was ready to bounce off the walls. Mike looked like he was suppressing some laughs. Levi let himself in; eyes made of ice appraised his every step.

“Have a seat, Levi,” was all Erwin said, and once he did the man knitted his fingers together. “I’ve heard rumors.”

“Tch, didn’t think you were the type to listen to shitty gossip.”

“More than rumors, I would say.”

Levi raised his brows to encourage elaboration.

“There have been complaints.”

“Of?”

“You and some cleaning girl hooking up!” Hange cried out — happily.

Without a beat, Levi tilted his head: “What?”

“There has been a shortage in cleaning supplies,” Erwin said. “Some cadets have complained about headaches. Some have reported breathing issues. Some have fainted.”

Levi glared. “They’re allergic to everything except filth, then?”

“I’m told chemicals from the cleaning solutions are the cause,” Erwin continued, leafing through what could only be reports from this very issue.

“The morons can always open a fucking window.”

“Still, there’s such a thing as too clean, Levi,” Erwin said. “Some have begun to speculate why there’s been such an uptick in cleanliness. It seems … suspicious.”

“Tch.”

Erwin’s eyes flicked upward expectantly. “I’ve not heard you deny anything.”

“There’s nothing to deny.” Levi crossed his legs. “I help her clean when I have the time, that’s it.”

Hange squealed. “Oh, this is fascinating —!”

“ — You’d think so,” Levi shifted his glare toward her.

“A friendship forged from alcohol!” Hange chirped. “I’m such a fool; I should’ve predicted something like this would happen!”

“Nothing’s happened, you fucking weirdo,” Levi said.

Mike had failed to comment thus far, sticking to his corner of the room, but his shoulders rumbled with hushed laughs. Fucking prick.

“Hm?” Hange stood. “Oh really? Tell me, then: If you’re just cleaning, why are there reports of moving furniture?”

“We have to move furniture to get to spots people forget to clean, moron,” Levi said pointedly, crossing arms now. “If these idiots spent as much time training as they did gossiping, fewer of them would be eaten every expedition.”

“Nevertheless, we can’t have you and this girl making hazardous gases in your attempts to clean headquarters,” Erwin said. “Be more discriminate with how you use your supplies. I don’t want to hear any more complaints about this, am I understood?”

A curt nod from Levi.

A snort from Mike. “I bet she’s cute.”

“I bet you’d look better without a nose, Mike,” Levi said, standing. “And, Commander, I think you should address some of the rumors concerning yourself.”

It was Erwin’s turn to raise his fatass eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“I don’t know.” Levi was already striding toward the door. “Something about you and some nurse.” He turned back to Erwin, hand on the knob. “Can’t be true, can it?”

Hange gasped. Mike choked. Erwin himself, surprising no one, moved not an inch, only dug knives into Levi’s disappearing back as he considered himself excused and shut the door behind him.

He wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t lose his cleaning fuck buddy. Not now. Not ever. No one had understood his desire to eradicate filth as well as you.

He would just have to have a little conversation with you.

“You make too much noise.”

Hardly the statement you were looking forward to. Where was you feel so good? Your precious good girl?

You broke the kiss, subtracting your tongue from inside Levi’s mouth, to stare at him crookedly.

“Come again?”

“S’you,” Levi said, the flush coloring his face as conspicuous as day. “People are talking around these shitty barracks. We’ll have to cool it if you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”

You snorted while resuming your task: unbuttoning Levi’s shirt. You dipped forward to snatch one button between your teeth where it waited to be chewed off. You broke away to nibble at the skin beyond it once it snapped open. “Shut me up then.”

“Fuck …” Levi said in response to your slutty hips swinging into his, your teeth leaving love bites over his protruding collar. “Do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“This is your fault, you know?” You ground your hips into Levi’s obvious erection and was promptly rewarded with a delicious groan. His hand came around to grip the fat of your ass. You licked a wet strip onto his neck before nibbling the skin there. “If you didn’t” — another swing of your hips, another groan from Levi — “fuck me so good, my volume wouldn’t be such a problem.”

“Not apologizing.”

You leveled your face with his. “Then we’re at an impasse.” And you kissed him, slotting your tongue back into place above his.

Levi stole air from your mouth when your hand slotted between the two of you, found the heavy imprint of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. Levi pressed you closer to him, a firm grip on your ass. He swiped up at your tongue before nibbling on your lower lip and repeating the action with its twin.

“You really want your slutty mouth exposing us to the world?” Levi grumbled, no doubt begrudgingly aware of how his cock twitched in your hold.

“I really don’t care,” You said. “But I guess I don’t have as much to lose, right, Captain?”

He jerked you away by the back of your head, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re out of line.”

A grumble in his throat at the sight of your tongue running over your lip.

“Says the man who walked in on me showering.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, as if to say touche.

“Maybe you’re right.” He met your eye, fixing his face neutral. “Maybe I need to shut you up.”

“Oh.” You wiggled your brows. “Levi.”

“On your knees.”

You giggled — stifled it when Levi tapped your cheek with barely any force but enough to threaten a harder hand in the future.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, brat.”

And so you sank, remaining eye contact as you sat on your knees and fiddled with the buckle of Levi’s pants. You freed his cock, was rewarded with a soft grunt from him — and one slightly louder when you fed his cock into your mouth, wiggling your eyebrows at him again.

“Even with your mouth stuffed with my cock, you’re still giving me attitude?” Levi huffed, but there was no bite to it.

The edge of your mouth quirked before focusing on your task. You gave Levi a hard, fruitful suck before releasing him with a loud, wet pop! to run the flat of your tongue down the underside of his cock. From base to tip. Base to tip. You swallowed him again, hollowing your cheeks to work his cock. Excitement flushed your cunt as Levi’s grunts filled the air, and your fingers itched to sneak down and play with your juicing folds.

A groan from Levi. An encouraging hand met the back of your head. “Fuck, good, little brat …” His hanging his head back sent your cunt clenching at nothing.

You released him, curled stroking fingers around his shaft. “Who’s the loud one now?” You teased with a smirk —

You gasped when Levi’s hand swatted your cheek. Harder than before. A tepid warning.

“Finish what you started.”

You opened your mouth to get smart with him, only for the hand straddling the back of your head to pull you forward; Levi’s cock tumbled back into your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered closed. Your hands stroked the end of his shaft, pubic hair tickling your pinkie, as your mouth lay preoccupied with the rest. Levi’s sounds impelled you to move faster. You didn’t care about the aching pain in your jaw or your screaming knees on the wooden floor. You sucked for those sounds, for the power you held over him in that moment.

“This is a better look for you anyway,” Levi said — hissed as one hand came to cling to his naked thighs, the other thumbing at his ball sack. “Fuck, clean my cock, brat.”

You weren’t his brat. Nor were you one of his cadets he ordered around, but your cunt fluttered around the words all the same. The way he was so determined to playfully shame you, when he was the one to jump you and sink his fingers into your cunt?

Levi assisted in your head bobbing, his fingers nestled in your hair. “Give it a spit shine, show me how fucking good you are at your job, cumdump.”

You parted with his cock to obey, to spit on the veiny shaft. You thinned out the spit with your palm before introducing him back into your mouth. You moaned around Levi’s cock, the vibrations around his member causing him to do the same.

Fuck. You couldn’t take it; you led a hand between your thighs, startled at how sensitive you were to your own touch when your fingers circled against the damp clutch of your panties.

“Playing with yourself while you suck me off …” He hissed when you sank forward, his cockhead tickling, threatening the sanctity of your uvula. “Depraved little slut.”

Levi clutched your head firmer to steady you and started thoroughly fucking your mouth. You gasped, choked, the rapid tousling of your head clouding your senses. Your eyes pebbled with tears. You ran a fingertip down your clothed slit, the seam of your panties wet from your want. You moaned as Levi did. Your lips tightened around the span of him. You raised to the challenge, sucking harshly as he bucked into your willing mouth.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed. You cracked an eye open to see Levi’s hips stutter, his other hand bracing against the table.

“Mmm!” You were so hot. You worked your clit harder before realizing you didn’t have to cheat yourself slid a hand past the elastic of your panties, slipping fingers through your folds.

“Don’t you dare flake on me,” Levi said. “We just cleaned these floors; take every last drop.”

You didn’t need him to tell you what to do; you knew your role now. Levi slowed his pace to allow you to take over. You rose on your knees, gripped one of his ass cheeks to hold him close. A soft gasp from Levi as you ran your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock, coaxing him to coming. You felt it twitch, excited and abused in your hot, wet mouth.

“Fuck, fuck —“ Levi growled, gripped the side of the table. “Every drop, you little cumcatcher —!”

Levi fisted your hand as he spilled into your mouth. You closed your eyes to it, clinging to his shaft to pull him back and allow your mouth much needed space. Levi fed you his pants, his hurried breaths quickening your heart. His cockhead sat on the flat of your tongue while ropes of cum ran down the length of it. You obeyed his command, swallowing every drop, letting him use you as the little cum dispenser he wanted you to be. You wanted to be for him.

Your jaw screamed with relief when Levi left your mouth. A bridge of saliva connected you to his spent member and you promptly wiped it away before it could threaten the sanctity of Levi’s perfectly polished floors.

He looked down at you, his stoicism softened by fondness. He stroked the cheek he’d previously abused. “Good girl.”

You purred. “Only for you.”

“Hm.”

You stood and pecked him inches above his ever-scowling eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say? After all that huffing and puffing you —?”

Levi’s hand met the back of your neck and pulled you close, glaring right into your eyes. “You’re running your shitty fucking mouth before I can even reward you.”

Your brow raised in interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Levi jerked his head toward his bedroom. “Let’s finish this.”

You gaped in surprise. “But we just cleaned the sheets!”

“And you’re not about to get them dirty again. Right?” Levi stared pointedly at you before leaning into your throat, giving it a soft but prompt nibble. He pulled away as you hummed. “Right?”

You ran your tongue over your lip, batting intrigued eyes at him for a second. He really was an eccentric weirdo. You wordlessly complied, strolling into the bedroom to get into place for him. Levi followed, pulling you toward him. One hand yanked you to him by your shirt, dragging you into a kiss. You gasped at the sudden action. His force pressed the bed into the back of your knees and you clumsily sat. Levi worked your shirt away before hooking a hand down the elastic of both your trousers and panties.

He peered down at your lower half, mildly amused. “Bet you’re already dripping after playing with yourself while sucking me off, fucking freak …”

You giggled, your rebuttal your raised, pruney fingers.

Levi gripped your wrist. “Filthy …” He brought your fingers to his mouth — jerked the two articles of clothing fisted in his grip to hook at the back of your knees. The tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips at your widened eyes, your tiny gasp.

Levi tossed away your clothes. He slotted into the new space between your legs. You ran your fingers over his plump lower lip as he fished for his cock, and pride flared in you to feel he was already hard again, your teasing sufficient enough to make him stand at attention.

“We — ahh …” You furrowed your brows at the feel of Levi’s cock sheathing inside you. You sighed. Tried again. “We’re going to make a mess for sure.”

“We’re not going to make a mess,” Levi corrected before inserting himself fully, thrusting to the hilt and, over your moan, “You’re going to take it.”

You didn’t wonder because you didn’t need to; his tacit answer, coming in the form of another pointed look up at you, had been enough for understanding to flourish like moss on stone. He was going to fill you up, leave you so full of his cum he would surely pull out of you squeaky clean, every precaution you might’ve taken against pregnancy be damned. The insinuation sent flutters to your cunt you were sure Levi could feel around his cock, were sure he could feel the effect he had on you. Your final confirmation being that he was still fully clothed, as though confident you would not sully him even as he ruined you.

Levi quickened his pace in such a way you were forced to grab ahold to his shoulders. “Fu — Is that so? Mm!”

“Yeah — fuck,” Levi muttered in your ear. “As you said, we just fucking cleaned these sheets, and there’s no way they’re getting dirty again just because you can’t control your disgusting sobbing snatch.”

You wanted to slap him — wanted to throw his insults and his eager cock in his face — and your hand itched to do so, but as he found his rhythm you couldn’t; he fucked you hard into the mattress, barely breaking a sweat as he barreled into you. A hand flew to constrict your throat, sinking you down further and thus making it easier for him to bully into you. Levi brought his face close to yours as his hips went wild, giving you a taste of that Ackerman strength you had heard so much about.

“Ah — uh —!” You moaned, your eyes falling closed as your mouth slacked wide. “Levi — Levi!”

You cracked eyes open to see Levi’s face strained from his efforts above you. Another flutter down below struck to see how much of an effect you were having on him. You loved him like this; the sarcastic, stoic know-it-all you’d come to know melting away until he was just a man enthralled with your pussy. You looped arms around his, bracing your hands at his back. A hand grazed your mons pubic and three fingers at your clit had you choking a moan.

“Come on,” You urged. “Oh.” You shuddered when Levi flicked at your clit every which way in response. “I’ll be such a good girl for you and take it, mm …”

“Fucking noisy brat, nrgh!” The hand Levi had roped over your throat tightened. “Using my own words against me …”

First your arms then your legs wrapped around him — only to aid in flipping him on his back. The world whirled around you as you came out on top. Levi choked back a sound of surprise as you mounted him. You looked down at him with a smirk.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He said, an aimless hand groping at your tit.

“Being a good girl.” You let yourself down on him, basked in the triumph coming in the form of Levi’s relieved groan beneath you. “I wanna show you how good I can take it.”

Levi’s face contorted in an almost-glare he soon realized he had not the energy for when you planted hands on his chest, rebellious fingers discreetly tweaking his nipples through his uniform as you found purchase, and began to bounce on him. His eyes shut, brows furrowed as the round of your ass routinely slapped against his thighs.

“Fuuuck.” Nails left crescent moons of your thighs. “Feels good, ugh …!”

“Anything for you, Captain —“

“Don’t call me that.” Levi grasped harder at the junction between your thigh and ass.

“Why?” You paused, sitting on him, opting to squeeze around him as you did so. Levi grunted, bucked up in response. “It doesn’t have an effect, does it?”

“Fuck, read the room —“ Levi’s eyes trained on where you two met in the middle, your sopping snatch routinely coming to devour him. “Clearly, I’m not your captain, otherwise — urgh!”

You kept fucking against him, surprised by both the agility and stamina you seemed to have in this moment. Levi’s cock split you open so good, so completely. It was growing increasingly hard to tease him as you felt yourself getting close. So close. Levi slapped your ass before taking a handful and tugging you forward. You fell onto him.

“Otherwise — oh — what?” You asked, your faces now so close as to have your noses rubbing. “You won’t let me drain your cock of every last drop?”

Levi’s knuckles had to be white from how tight his hold now was on you. He groaned, biting down on his lip as his forehead met yours.

“I don’t care about the rules,” You said, voice sounding more desperate than was your intent due to your cresting release. “You’re my captain, so I’m gonna — oh! — be a good girl and fuck my captain until he’s fucked dry from my cunt —“

A sound of utter frustration from Levi and his hands were bruising your hips. Hard. He fucked up into you, slamming you down onto him, and every time he met you half way. Now you held onto his shoulders for fear of falling off, too hazed from lust and pleasure to register that as a foolish notion; like Levi would ever let you fall. Like he would ever let you go.

You fisted one hand into the sheets, meeting Levi’s upward thrusts however you could. Teasing words devolved into endless grunts and moans. You exchanged breaths before you remembered you could kiss him and did, kissing him hard as your last threads of sanity snapped and you clenched wildly down onto him.

You moaned into Levi’s mouth as you came. You gripped his cock with your cunt again, again, and felt Levi come undone underneath you only seconds later. Warm, thick ropes of cum spilled into you and you stilled on top of him, sitting flat, then grinding your hips, your clit rocking into his abdomen rug-burned by his pubic hair. The sensation added another shock of pleasure as you came undone.

Levi was determined to fuck you through it. With strength you didn’t think he still had, he flipped you over and proceeded to fuck his come into you, the length of his shaft coated white with your juices and his. Another thrust and he slammed into you without retreating, holding there.

“Levi …” You moaned out. You felt him move and whined; you weren’t ready for him to leave you, to be empty.

But the second Levi pulled out, he replaced what you’d lost with his fingers, ensuring his spent be left inside.

“Oh, fuck, Le …!” You shuddered, too overstimulated to submit to Levi’s fingers rubbing up against your spot.

“Quiet,” he murmured. “You’re a good girl, remember? Don’t wanna hear it …”

You bit your lip, nearly ripped the sheets from their corners as he stimulated you from inside. Finally, he withdrew his fingers, certain his spent had taken with you.

“Phew.” Eyes closed, you fell back into the pillow, too blissed out to articulate much more.

The mattress depressed at your side and you knew Levi was there, trailing kisses up your arm. Once in the crook of your neck, “Good girl.”

You hummed as Levi relaxed beside you. Despite his claims, you knew there was no way the sheets hadn’t been tainted — by sweat, by juice if not by his cum — and Levi would have you rip the sheets from their corners and wash them. He’d watch to see what kind of detergent you would choose, testing to see if your skills were up to par with his. And perhaps he would fuck you in the laundry room while the sheets dried. Maybe he would fuck into you from behind while you made the bed. Whatever it was, you were game. Always. When and if it was with him.

While your mind swam with sordid thoughts, Levi spoke up:

“What do you want?”

You propped up on an elbow, facing him. “Hm?”

“Us.” He turned to you, stoic expression having returned, but his eyes ever watchful. “What do you want out of this?”

You smiled. “I … want a partner. Someone to share things with.” You sought out his hand to entwine your fingers with his and, to your surprise, he reciprocated the gesture after a second or two. “But it doesn’t have to be serious. Or public.”

“Hm.” Levi nodded. You always got the sense he was testing you, somehow, both in and out of bed. The romantic in you wanted to believe it was because he feared hurting you, feared pushing you beyond your limits. “I think that would be best for now.”

Fuck buddies it is.

“We should work on these sheets,” Levi said. “It’s not too late. We could have them dried before midnight.” He eyed you with challenge. “If you’re not too tired?”

You thought of your previous fantasies. Perhaps you would be the one to initiate this time?

You smirked. “You’re on.”

#levi smut #levi x reader #aot smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #aot x reader

478 notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 9 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life.

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it.

This was all Steve's fault.

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar.

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway.

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess.

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together.

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for.

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself.

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well.

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts.

"What?"

"Bug—"

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though."

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about.

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did.

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly.

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you.

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Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it.

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her.

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them.

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type.

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to.

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little.

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career.

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her.

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason.

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head.

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning.

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat.

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her.

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her.

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!"

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Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying.

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone.

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs.

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for.

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it.

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup.

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear.

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders.

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain.

It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way.

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

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Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers.

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed.

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits.

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap.

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm.

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him.

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship.

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it.

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together.

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight.

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision.

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda.

And you look interested.

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you.

But that just makes everything so much more confusing.

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend.

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself.

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something.

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is.

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer.

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information.

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

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The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic.

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset.

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy.

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly.

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you.

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand.

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist.

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you.

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you.

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well.

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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Ok so this might be an odd request but I’ve been really sad about the fact that the network vetoed bisexual Reid so I was wondering if you could write boyfriend Spencer coming out to reader and just having it be really sweet and fluffy??

this is the cutest. great minds are bisexual reid truthers. i am honored to do this for the tumblr community and the world at large

warnings/tags: potentially VERY slight internalized homophobia from spencer if u squintttt but he's just nervous that's all!! my boyfriend has never done anything wrong in his life!! fem reader

“My type is you,” you say sweetly, angling your head up to look at your boyfriend. The two of you have been laying on the couch for the better part of an evening, (more accurately, he’s on the couch, you’re on him) talking about nothing and everything. Somehow the conversation has meandered to this—him asking you what your type in men is, of all things.

“What a convenient answer,” Spencer teases, pushing your hair away from your face. You laugh, leaning into the warmth of his touch.

“I mean it! I don’t think I ever really got what all the excitement was about men until I met you.”

He hums, a satisfied little smile on his face. “That’s very flattering.”

“What about you?”

His brows dart up.

“What’s my type in men?”

An inadvertent laugh bubbles from your throat—slowly going stale in the air while you watch as Spencer actually flushes. It dawns on you with a splash of anxiety and a generous helping of guilt that maybe it’s not exactly a joke to him. You attempt to play it off casually, keeping your tone even but receptive.

“Well, I meant in women. But, if you have a type in men, by all means, tell me.”

Hazel eyes dart between yours as his hand continues carding through your hair—and then he’s looking away, studying the wall behind you like there’s more there than faded green paint.

Silences stretches as you chew on the inside of your cheek, worried you’ve somehow said the wrong thing. You wriggle higher up his body and gently grab his wrist, interrupting what you suspect is a self-soothing motion.

“Hey,” you murmur, pulling his hand to your lips and pressing them to his knuckles. “Come back.”

Finally he looks at you again, mildly surprised like you’d tugged him from the very depths of his thoughts. But his eyes are soft, grazing his his fingers over your lips.

“I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean.” The words are gentle. His thumb catches on your bottom lip and you nip at it playfully, trying to lighten his suddenly heavy mood. It’s hard to tell if it works—he continues tracing your lips absentmindedly, biting his own. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and wavers ever so slightly, the way it does in the rare instance that he’s not 100% sure of himself or what he’s talking about.

“I was thinking about your question.” You don’t dare speak for fear opening your mouth will somehow break whatever self-hypnosis is keeping him honest. “I don’t have a specific type. In women. Or… or men.”

His voice is so fragile that you have to run it back in your mind a few times to process what he’d said. Several layers of clothing do nothing to dull the rapid drumming of his heartbeat against your chest. And your poor boyfriend looks so scared during the moment of silence while you’re thinking that it breaks your heart. He needs a sign, something to reassure him that it’s okay, before he backtracks and dissociates entirely. Delicately your hand slides up the side of his neck and jaw. You crane your neck to press a long kiss to his flushed cheek. It’s okay, you’re okay. We’re okay. The world is still turning. His chest rises and falls slowly in a deep, silent sigh.

“I love you,” you remind him once you pull away, wiping away the slight sheen of chapstick your kiss had left. He catches your hand, wrapping it in his larger one. The guarded look in his eye does a poor job of concealing how badly he wants to please you, and everyone, and how scared he is that maybe this was the wrong answer. That maybe this is just another way he is not quite right, and you’ll tell him so, just like everyone else always has.

“You’re not—you don’t have anything to say?”

Gentle fingers brush away invisible tears under his eyes, sweeping over the skin with the utmost care. He’s not crying, but you imagine at one point or another he had, and since you weren’t there to wipe away the tears then, maybe you can make up for it by being here now.

“Is it something you want to talk about?” you ask, fingers still skimming over the angular plane and valley of his cheek. The darting of his eyes between yours, the slight furrow of his brow, the pressed-together lips—he’s profiling you. Trying to extract your thoughts through osmosis.

“I… I’ve never told anyone before.”

Your stomach twists. You hate that there’s any part of him he feels he has to hide—and that he’s done it for so long.

“Well I’m glad you told me, angel.”

His eyes are like warm honey as he looks up at you, dulling that sharp, defensive edge as the endearment slips past your lips. Usually it’s the other way around, and you hope it soothes him even half as much as it always does for you.

A surprised laugh is expelled from your lungs when he pulls you down into a crushing hug. Immediately, gleefully, you reciprocate, pushing your arms under his waist and tangling your legs with his, holding on ferociously and for dear life. His face is buried in the hollow of your neck, so you have to assume that much like you, he’s picked this over oxygen.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he breathes, lips brushing your neck and hair. Muffled, because there’s no space between you. Your eyes sting and tear up almost immediately. A joke forms on the tip of your tongue; low bar? But you bite it back, unsure if you can manage persuasive sarcasm in this moment. “And, for the record, you are the most beautiful human being I have ever met in my life. Nobody else has or will ever come close.”

You laugh tearfully into his collar. “Spencer, I’m not worried about that.”

“I know you’re not,” he says, finally coming up for air. You do the same, laying on his shoulder contentedly and looking into his eyes. “But I’m telling you anyway because it’s true and I want you to hear it.”

A contemplative moment passes, and you wonder how it’s possible to be falling even more in love with him. You’d thought you already loved him as much as any human being had ever been capable of doing. You hope love has no end. You hope you keep falling deeper and deeper forever.

“You should know something,” you say, looking down to toy with the collar of his shirt. He hums.

“What should I know, angel girl?”

“You should know that I’m still going to fight anyone who tries to flirt with you. I don’t care if it’s a six five body builder or a seventy year old woman with a walker. You’re gonna have to hold me back.”

A bemused smile tugs at his lips.

“You would physically fight an elderly woman?”

“Or a six five body builder,” you agree. Spencer faces the ceiling like he’s watching the scene play out.

“Okay,” he snorts. “I don’t love that, but okay.”

“It’s what you signed up for,” you mumble, snuggling back into him. His hand finds the back of your head and tangles comfortably in your hair once more.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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rallamajoop · 3 months

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That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

#Karl Heisenberg #Ethan Winters #RE meta #winterberg #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #RE assets #not to soapbox but that's also why the popularity of AO3's 'soft' Heisenberg tag makes me roll my eyes so hard #this dude is 'soft' like a fencepost to the gut

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astrxealis · 2 years

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i'd really love to be more interactive in the ffxiv community but i'm nervous and all bcs unlike majority, i'm a minor ... like thankfully there's more and more minors also playing with the rising popularity, but usually i don't see that it's their "big thing"? main interest, yeah? and idk if most of ^^ are even updated all the way to endwalker and have done most of the content in game KABDKSND and it's hard to find em ngl

#idm interacting w adults but id prefer getting closer to those nearer ny age + i wonder if most adults wld even be yeah to talk to me #hmmm thoughts thoughts thoguhs #eh ill really head to sleep now wtvr ><#but uhm yeah ... if anyone wants to be ffxiv mutuals w me! or just mutuals! or whatever! idk if anyone will even see this but might as well #AKHEIQHEJA my ffxiv sb is astrxyls or astrxlys i cant rmbr which TvT still gotta fix it more but its. There #tbh its the same w twt ... esp moreso :') tumblr just is more comfy and seems more warm ?? but i rlly want to be more ya on twt for ffxiv 2 #⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა ffxiv ໒꒱ *·˚#an easy solution (kinda but not really one) wld be to get my friends to play ff LMAO /nf but still yeah hmmm thoughts #good night <3

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forgeofthenine · 4 months

Note

hhgggg the bachelors in rut was so.. well, hot lol. I remember there being a previous ask about the bachelor's reacting to the reader being turned into a tiefling.

I was wondering, how would they handle said reader going into heat/rut for the first time?

I've taken an unexpected absence from Tumblr the last couple days, between prepping for Christmas and being extremely busy at work I basically had no time or energy. I did, however, write this while half asleep and on the flight to see my family, given the amount of turbulence we had when I finished it maybe even nature wanted me to write more lol. There's luckily still more stuff to come over the Christmas break :)

@swordcreature come get your food-

TW: NSFW under the cut, ABO dynamics, overstimulation, orgasm denial, impact play mention

The bachelors when their partner goes into heat/rut for the first time

Dammon

Dammon is so good at handling any new tiefling issues you might have, even if he laughs a bit at first

"Baby, if you angle your head to the left it'll make getting that top on easier.“

What completely slipped his mind was that you'd eventually develop a heat cycle just like all other Tieflings

As soon as walks into the house after a day of working in the forge the smell hits him

The entire house smells like pure lust, even a single step into the doorway is enough for his pupils to dilate and his throat to go dry

If you weren't already preoccupied, you'd hear the way he thumps up the stairs in his desperation to get to your bedroom

The door swings open with a slam as Dammon stands in the doorway looking half crazed

The sight of you spread out on the bed with two fingers knuckle deep, back arched, is almost enough to send him straight into an early rut

It's only your small whimper of how much it hurts that brings him back out of his haze, suddenly realising how confusing this must be at first

The bed dips as he sits on the side, leaning over you and placing a warm hand on your equally hot face to get your attention

As hard as Dammon is in his pants, he does check you're okay first and makes sure you drink water before he starts anything

It doesn't matter how much you complain or accuse him of teasing you, he wants to make sure you won't pass out on him

Once he's sure you're okay, all bets are off

As soon as he can, he's folding you over yourself and taking things into his own hands, quite literally

He makes sure you get off at least once to the feeling of his rough, calloused hands as he fingers you without abandon

It's only after you've cum once (or twice, or thrice) on his fingers that he'll finally indulge you with his throbbing cock

The feeling of you squeezing around him, whimpering out his name, is enough for Dammon to finally hit his own rut

He can't keep his hands off you, low rumbled praises leaving his lips as he bites at your collarbones

His cock reaches places in you your fingers never could, the flared head and ridged underside making your mind numb with pleasure

The tiefling keeps you there in bed for hours, switching you between positions as he fucks you until you're both exhausted, panting messes

You'll be well taken care of afterwards too, Dammon easily picking up your now sated body and putting you in a nice warm bath

He eases you through your first heat as well as one can, even if he's dealing with an unexpected rut at the same time

Zevlor

This man was your living tiefling encyclopaedia long before you accidentally became a tiefling yourself

Your questions increased after the accident, though, and suddenly Zevlor is answering questions he never thought he'd have to

Such as "does this mean I'll have a heat cycle now? What'll that feel like?" Among others

The question stops him in his tracks because logically yes you would have a heat cycle now, but he can't remember ever meeting someone that wasn't born a tiefling

Zevlor does his best to prepare you for what may happen, and when you finally come up to him one day to tug at his sleeve he can already smell your heat

He's another one that makes sure you're prepared beforehand, but it's much easier with how early he catches on

Once you've had something to eat and drink he's happy to lead you over to your shared bedroom

Zevlors so sweet as he leads you through the beginning of it all, sweet kisses down your chest and gentle touches over your hips

You'll find his face between your legs soon enough, happily devouring you like a man starved

As composed and proper as the paladin is, he can't deny that he'd spend the rest of his life here giving you head if you'd let him

Your reactions and the sweet smell of your heat spur him on, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with ease

At some point his fingers join in too, the digits and his tongue bringing you to ecstasy repeatedly

It's only after he's made you a boneless, whining mess that he'll finally resurface, asking if you'd still like more

Zevlors pupils are blown wide, cock hard and twitching in his pants, his own rut creeping up on him

Once you give him the go ahead he's already tearing off his own clothes, or what's left of them anyway

He eases his cock into you slowly despite the ample preparation, enjoying the anticipation of finally bottoming out inside of you

Every squeeze and flutter you make around him pulls a low groan from the older tiefling, his hand anchoring itself on your hip

He's gentle with you the whole time, happily restraining the part of him that wants to go rougher, to take you like a madman

Instead, he leads you both to climax over and over again, pulling orgasms out of your needy body

When you've both finally had your fill, his own cock oversensitive and going soft within you, that he finally reaches over for the pitcher of water he set out earlier

Zevlor will, once again, help you to eat and drink a little before he holds you close and runs his hands over your bare skin

It's soothing, easing you off to sleep, Zevlor knows you'll need all your energy to do this all over again tomorrow

Rolan

Despite being an extremely smart man, Rolan often forgets about his own ruts and the fact you'll now be experiencing similar absolutely eludes him

He's quite happy to go about his normal business running Ramaziths Tower and ignoring most of his basic bodily needs

That is, until you collapse while helping him with cataloguing

He'd already known you were feeling unwell, the tiefling insisting you stay close to him for the day so he can keep an eye on you, and he just barely catches you before you hit the ground

The wizard takes in your flushed face and the needy way you paw at his clothed chest, already trying to pull away his layers

A realisation runs through him, you're in heat

Going with the first thought that runs through his head, Rolan sweeps you up into his arms and misty steps you over to your bedroom door

It's a fiddly thing trying to open it with you in his arms, that is until he remembers he can simply summon a mage hand to help

Unloading you onto the bed, he finally lets you pull away his top layers, flustered as the full gravity of the situation dawn's on him

Sure, you two have fucked plenty of times before now, but it's different when your desperately tugging at him like he's the very air you breathe

It's only when you snap at him, asking what's taking him so long, that he kicks back into gear

Unlike the other Tieflings, all thoughts of water or food completely evade his mind

It's not long before he has you ass up and face down, a mage hand holding your wrist together above your head as he thrusts three fingers inside of you

Rolan is just as mean in bed as he is out of it, bringing you right to the precipice before pulling his touch away all together

It hardly matters to him that you're in heat really, he's determined to tease you before bringing you mind shattering pleasure

He doesn't take all comfort from you though, pitying you as tears start to roll down your cheeks, his tail intertwining with yours as he finally lets you cum

Anyone in the tower could've heard your scream as you finally get the pleasure your body craves, and that's just how he likes it

Rolan happily takes you properly afterwards, a hand on your ass when he sinks his hard cock deep into you with a single stroke

His own rut kicked in hours ago, the sheer realisation that you were in heat sparking it

And he keeps you there, for hours, cataloguing long forgotten as he thrusts so deep into you that you swear he's reaching your stomach

He's as rough with you as he usually is, the odd smack laid on your ass, hands near bruising your hips as he pulls you impossibly closer to him

The two of you stay there like that, a tangle of limbs, well into the night

Until neither of you even have the energy to move

Rolan does eventually use his mage hand to get you both water before he pulls your head into his chest and encourages you to try and get some sleep

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #dammon smut #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor smut #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan smut

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eamour · 28 days

Note

Hi i don't know if you'll reply/repost this ask but i really believe what i have to say is needed to help people in the manifestation community i am only sending this to you because you are one of the few active ones with a decent following that can get the word out..

The amount of complications people in this community have brought upon themselves is just infuriating and annoying the amount of creators/blog writers that come up with something new every week are just deceiving and preying on people who want to have a better life if you care i hope you'll post this.

Lies and overcomplications like;

'You shouldn't feel lack' 'don't focus on the 3d' 'know that you have it and go on with your life' 'this is the only way you can manifest' 'don't try to affirm or visualize it won't work its just endlessly affirming' 'feel it know' the amount of 3d and 4d 'live in imagination' is all a bunch of bs what Neville said is not the final! And you all seem to forget that

You can do all that and still get what you want sure! you can manifest this way too but why overcomplicate it?

(Yes there is a possibility that spreading this misinformation may not be necessarily intended to cause harm and might be just a misunderstanding from bloggers as well but it still causes to harm to those who are vulnerable and are just wanting to better their life and learn about manifesting)

None of this matters you are the only one who makes yourself manifest and there are many ways and you can use any way/method the problem on tumblr is people push only one way no you don't need to be fulfilled in imagination or 'know you have it and shut up in order to manifest sure Neville found a good way but its not the only way but the amount of people here who push this as if it's the only way and say if you don't do this you will never manifest are fcking playing with people's time and energy! i'm here to root for how far visualization affirming and robotic affirming goes,just for the average person its just such a quick and easy and 'failproof' way to 'get you desires' you don't need to hate the word 'get it' or something like that you don't have chase after knowledge or understanding to 'finaly manifest', when i went back to watching sammy and just affirming with no care about believe the thoughts no care about things like 3d or 4d no care about fulfilment or doing it to get it or anything like that...I've been carefree i don't worry at all...we are always learning about life and spirituality but you don't need an awakening or some sacred knowledge to manifest

You can read these posts that helped me but please no more,thats it no need to scroll and scroll and search for an answer

You don't need to read it all throughly just get the main idea you're good (most of them are short)

https://www.tumblr.com/imperfect777/744087420843245568/stop-scrolling-on-tumblr-twitter-pinterest-etc?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/miracledarling/715265433528320001/the-key-to-manifesting?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/sp0iledprincess55/744703729957257216/100-proof?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/dreamsintoreality111/672119540555153408/hey-do-you-prefer-to-change-appearance-through?source=share

My tips and experience..

All this time after being kinda obsessed with the void state (don't even get why people renamed the i am state by Neville lol) trying all things but just being lazy giving up restarting and going back to the old way of thinking, thinking 'why i fail' but now looking back and realizing i just got distracted and stopped never persisted .... now i realize how easy it is but what tumblr was doing was just discouraging me all along so many people lied or were misguided and said 'don't endlessly affirm just decide' implying if you try affirming you'll do it endlessly and never have what u want.. and so i listened....i used to watch sammy after a few videos last year i joined tumblr for a few 6 months at some point i was just reading things which have already been said and read..so i quit and decided to delete tumblr to just actually apply because reading the same thing over and over is no use...i'm now watching sammy ingram again so this is what i vouch for, affirming and thoughts watching sammy ingram (if just deciding or knowing seems like its not for you sammy ingram is great and in my opinion if i also just know or decide its mine then by affirming aren't i just reminding myself..'knowing' & 'deciding' in a way too?) again sammy joe dispenza is more helpful compared to tumblr over 6 months... i have logged back after a month typing this rn to help people and will delete my acc today even the creators i used to follow haven't posted in weeks and i urge people to leave tumblr after a certain point please live your life.

posting this for everyone who is currently overcomplicating the law and beating themselves up for not "doing it right". ♡

i want to add something: you can believe in all of these things (such as "feeling it real" instead of "affirming to get") and if it works for you, that’s good! that’s quite literally the law. but if it’s the opposite for you, if you think that it’s too much work and you would rather robotically affirm to get your desire, then do that.

i have seen both sides on tumblr and twitter, and they are both successful. it’s up to you what you want to make work for yourself!!

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solaariia · 2 months

Text

the self-concept

hellour! this is gonna be a long post!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

i was studying for my social psychology course today (for context i'm a psych major) and read something that might be helpful for everyone who's been having doubts about manifestation subconsciously being part of our everyday lives—as opposed to something made up by the internet.

the information i'm about to provide is from actual sociologists and psychologists, so this is rooted in studies. i promise i'm not about to pull info out of my ass! this is mainly just a very very brief summary of the self concept chapter we're reading about in class.

side note, i named all the researchers in case you wanna check out their work yourself! i made this post to provide insight about our self-concept and clear limiting beliefs. :)

what is self-concept?

so we hear the term self-concept a lot in the manifestation community. Neville, Edward, Sammy, Dr Joe Dispenza, bloggers on tumblr… all of them talk about it all the time. but what does it actually mean?

the self-concept refers to the total sum of beliefs that people have about themselves. it consists of cognitive molecules that social psychologist Hazel Markus called self-schemas. these are the beliefs about ourselves that guide the processing of self relevant information. but what does this actually mean?

well, self-schemas are to the self-concept what books are to a library. if someone asks about yourself, you will probably answer with something quick like: “i am a woman” or “i am a student.” those simple attributes are part of your self-schema; if we want to go deeper, body weight is also a self-schema. for people who regard weight as a crucial part of their beliefs, something simple like a gym trip with friends or buying stuff at the supermarket may trigger thoughts about the self. but if a person is aschematic (not concerned by a certain attribute) about body weight, no thoughts will pop up.

we already know that the self is a special object of our attention. whether its a thought or a song, our consciousness is like a spotlight. this means that it can shine on one object at one point in time, yet shift rapidly from one object to another and process information outside of awareness. in this spotlight, the self is at the forefront of our minds. its what's most important to us at that moment. keep this in mind for later!

to finish with the explanations, neurologist Oliver Sacks highlighted two important points about the self:

🩷 there is a private “inner” self, and an “outer” self we show to others. if we don’t self reflect to understand how were feeling, how will we understand our emotions and actions?

🩷 the self is heavily influenced by social factors.

now–what does that last point mean? well, what we think about ourselves is rooted from childhood. if we grow up hearing “you’ll never amount to anything” or “you’re my favorite child” (extreme examples i know), then that's what we’ll ingrain in our self-concept. this notion brings me to the fun stuff–the studies!

is self-concept scientifically proven?

psychologist Gordon Gallup performed a series of studies where he put animals in front of a mirror to test if they could recognize themselves. at first, they vocalized and greeted themselves in the mirror (my dog did this too when he was a pup, he would bark at his own reflection and play with it), but after several days, only great apes seemed capable of self recognition, using the mirror just like any other human would. grooming themselves, making faces… in short, they recognized themselves!

why do i bring this experiment up? well, this proves that the concept of “me” is necessary to define our self-concept. we must first recognize ourselves as Something to become Someone.

using that same study in humans, this process of self-recognition begins between 18-24 months. which means that from this point onwards we start to define Self (consciousness).

you might read this and–admittedly–think: “oh this blog post hasn’t said anything about manifestation!” true, but i want to present the basics or self-concept first to understand how it affects our daily thoughts!

there was another experiment we talked about in one of my lectures (i do not remember who performed this study specifically, but Dr Patrick Heck did one similar to this one and the results were the same), where participants were told to take a test. half of them were told to boast about themselves, and the rest were instructed to describe themselves modestly. naturally, participants who spoke highly of themselves scored higher on these tests than participants who didn’t. so… you all see where i’m going with this.

remember how i said to keep the “consciousness is a spotlight” paragraph in mind? i’ll finally touch on it with this next and last thing i’m gonna talk about (in this post at least!).

we already established that the first step in the evolution of our self-concept is the ability to recognize ourselves as Someone. the second step, however, involves social factors. sociologist Charles Horton Cooley introduced the term looking-glass self to suggest that other people serve as a mirror in which we see ourselves. and another sociologist by the name of George Herbert added that the only way to know ourselves is by imagining the opinions of our significant others and applying them to our self-concepts. sounds familiar?

how do i change my self-concept?

Neville mentioned the “mirror-self” on his conferences too. he said that one of his favorite techniques to better his Self was to imagine a loved one speaking kindly of himself. in his book Your Faith is Your Fortune, Neville wrote: “Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”

since the self-concept is a library (our perception of Self) made out of self-schemas (books brought to us by our peers), we can see that sometimes, what we think of ourselves is just an amalgamation of beliefs implanted to us by the people in our lives. so if we were given these books we don’t like, why should we keep them in our library?

to change these negative beliefs we have about ourselves, all we have to do is replace them with positive ones. i know, i know, this is what every person who studies loa and manifestation regurgitates over and over. its nothing that hasn’t been posted to numerous blogs or twitter threads before.

however, the point about this whole post is to tell you why that is the only way to change your self-concept. if your daily thoughts are filled with phrases like: “my sp doesn’t want me” and “i’m so broke” or “what’s the point? this is all worthless anyways.” STOP. DROP. CHANGE.

journal. write your limiting beliefs in your ipad, paper, wood, stone–whatever.

use your hands to apply muscle memory. once you have them, CROSS THEM OUT!

i can’t manifest = I CAN MANIFEST EVERYTHING I WANT

i hope i shift tonight = I KNOW I SHIFT EVERY NIGHT

i wish i had money = I HAVE ALL THE MONEY I WANT AND MORE

just those small changes are enough to rewire your entire self-concept. also, exposure. the more exposure you have to something, the more insecure it will make you. if you’re having a hard time manifesting, remove all blogs, twitter accounts, and people that limit your beliefs. less exposure to negativity = less negativity reflected in your self-concept.

problems with the Self will always be there. if you remove a negative belief, another will pop up. all you can do is learn more about your “inner” self and recognize how you’re feeling. what you can do is focus on the positives, and automatically, your self-concept will change.

persist in the assumption until it becomes your reality!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

thank you all for making it this far! just in case, the book i got this information from is Social Psychology 11th Edition authored by Kassin, Fein and, H.R. Markus. there’s a lot of interesting information on this academic book that is similar to the ones Dr Joe Dispenza has written, so i could make another post like this in the future! take care!

#loa tumblr #law of assumption #loassumption #self concept #informative #social psychology #neville goddard #reality shifting #psychology #shiftblr #reya singh #shifting #edward art #quantum jumping #void state #research

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deliciousbasementtrash · 7 months

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist Nick Robles **Thank you for the correction @miraculous-panic **

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. You bump into Jason. How will your first meeting go?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, knife injury

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Part Five: Hello Sailor

I opened my eyes and had a face full of an exposed chest. I hadn’t run into a wall. I ran into a man. A man with wet jet-black hair with a white streak. His full torso was exposed revealing a white Y-shaped scar and a very defined body that was glistening with water. He had various bruises and cuts along his body making an instinctual part of me want to reach out and heal him. Although, I refrained from that urge. He only wore a white towel that was wrapped low against his V-cut hips. My face heated and words failed me.

“I’m… I’m y/f/n. The healer Bruce hired,” I stammered. God how embarrassing. I could face a level one trauma without a blink of an eye but put a man fresh out of the shower in front of me, and apparently my mind turns to mush.

“I figured,” he reached out a large hand; I took it. He nodded, “Jason Todd. If you wanted an introduction you could have asked, you didn’t need to tackle me.”

“Pfft that was barely a nudge. A slight bump if you will.”

He pointed at one of his many bruises, “Look what you did to me! If that is your ‘slight nudge’ I’d hate to see a real tackle from you, y/n.”

“Oh please, that bruise is at least three days old! You can’t pin that on me!” I tilted my head back and laughed.

“New girl I can pin whatever I want on you. You tackled me, and bruised me before I got so much as a ‘hi, nice to meet you.’”

“Hi Jason Todd, nice to meet you. Are you going to let me heal you or do you want to keep your injuries to seem mysterious and interesting?” I asked in a sweetly sarcastic manner.

“First you bruised my body and now my ego, wow y/n,” Jason drew out the syllables of my name as if he was savoring them.

“If you don’t take me up on my offer in three seconds I’m going to bed,” I said flatly. My tone might have indicated that I was serious but I knew that the threat was empty.

Jason threw up his hands in surrender, “Yes ole mighty healer! Please have mercy upon me!”

I rolled my eyes and started walking toward my room. Jason followed me.

“This is your room?” Jason asked, surprise lacing his tone.

“Yes, why?” I asked, curious.

“It’s nothing.”

I ignored his weird comment and sat on the edge of my bed. I motioned for Jason to sit next to me. I could have sworn I saw his eyes widen from across the room. He made his way over slowly as if hesitant.

The bed dipped as he sat down. He was a very large man. Practically a giant. With broad shoulders and thick thighs… okay nope. Not going down that route, you need to focus you pervert. I thought to myself.

“So how do you do this? Do you wave your magic wand and make my owies go away?” Jason looked at me intently. The question was partly a joke, but I could tell he wanted a serious run down of how it works. Just as I was about to elaborate a fluff ball came hurtling out of nowhere.

Hashbrown practically parkoured herself onto Jason’s lap. Jason’s laugh was deep and smooth like dark chocolate and honey. He reached his hand out and let Hashbrown sniff before he began to pet her lightly. Soon the room was filled with her purrs.

“Who is this?” Jason asked, smiling.

“That attention whore would be Miss Hashbrown herself,” I huffed.

Jason reached out a hand and grabbed Hashbrown’s front paw. I was shocked she let him. “Hello, Miss Hashbrown.”

Okay wow. The inappropriate thoughts are going wild. There was something about a man being gentle and good with animals.

I swallowed hard and focused myself, “In order to heal you I have to rest my hands against you. It works best with skin-on-skin contact but in emergencies, I can make it work through cloth. Or if you are more comfortable doing it through clothing we may do that as well.” I put on my professional Nurse voice which left little room for playfulness.

I heard Jason clear his throat and then he nodded, “It’s fine. I’m okay with skin-on-skin.” I saw a faint blush in his cheeks as he said it.

I rubbed my hands together trying to warm them for his comfort. I raised them slowly, “You might feel a slight tingling sensation like pins and needles. It should only last for a moment though. Are you ready?”

Jason nodded and I rested my hands against him. I closed my eyes and concentrated. There were bruises and cuts which I healed with little difficulty. But as I searched there was more, so much more.

“Wow you’re like an iceberg,” I mumbled.

“What?” Jason asked laughter in his tone.

“So much more beneath the surface.”

I felt him tense under my hands, “I guess you could say that.”

I couldn’t talk anymore. All of my energy was going into healing him. Rib fractures. Sprains. Bruised organs. A pinched nerve. Low iron. Low-grade fever. I healed and healed. My exhaustion grew. My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by sandbags. I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t lift my head. Distantly I felt myself leaning forward. But I lost consciousness before my forehead slapped against Jason’s shoulder.

***********************************************************

Jason’s hands quickly reached out to catch the girl as she fell towards him. It seemed like she passed out. Jason anxiously checked her pulse which was strong. She probably just needs some rest. He thought. Because whatever she did to him, Jason felt great. She went beyond the mild injuries and healed more than Jason could hope for. Instantly he was grateful.

He gently eased her back onto her bed. He pulled up her blankets. He plugged her phone into the charger. And he shut off the light. He made his way out the door and into the neighboring room. His room. He and the healer were so close they shared a wall. A foreign feeling popped up for Jason. He liked that she was so close to him. He felt strangely protective of the stranger. It might just be because she healed him. Or maybe it was something else, something undefinable.

Jason banished other thoughts about her as he got dressed. Soon he made his way down the stairs and into the dining room. Where his entire family was yelling and arguing. Ah home sweet home.

***********************************************************

A few days had gone by. I haven’t seen Jason since. I found much to my annoyance that I caught myself looking for him when I heard footsteps. Or thinking about him in my spare time. How embarrassing. You have one tension-filled healing sesh and all of a sudden you can’t think logically.

I paced around the Batcave in my scrubs. I alternated between reading my book, doodling in my notebook, and texting Sam.

[Girl if you don’t tell me more about Mr. Baddie Skunk I’m gonna have a freakout.] Sam texted me.

[I literally told you everything. That was it.]

[He has to be hot for you to say something. Does he have social media? I wanna see this cutie patotie.]

[No, just no, you stalker.]

[I’m not a stalker. I’m looking out for my friend. I may also be curious but that is beside the point.]

I heard and felt the rumble of the Batmobile. [Ttyl. Duty calls.]

I stood in my healer’s station. I double-checked my supplies once, twice, three times before the Batmobile came screeching up. Bruce got out quickly, his cape snapping as he moved. He ripped open the rear door and leaned in. When he came out he held a whimpering Tim in his hands.

I ran up to him with the gurney, “What happened?”

Suddenly Dick was beside me, ripping off his blue mask. “Poison Ivy released a noxious gas created from Manchineel. Tim took the brunt of it.”

I raked my brain trying to remember the properties of Manchineel. In the hospital most of the time we just tell the patient to call poison control. It didn’t matter. Tim’s airway was the top priority. I rested my stethoscope against his chest as we wheeled him closer to the station.

A high-pitched turbulent sound filled my ears. Fuck. Stridor. His airway was closing.

“Bruce go into the red cart top drawer and grab an epi-pen now!” I yelled as I started cutting away his Red Robin suit. I hissed through my teeth when I saw red hives and blisters all along his skin. “Grayson grab saline and rinse his skin! Wear gloves when you do it!”

Bruce deftly handed me the pen and I stuck it quickly into the meat of Tim’s thigh. In a matter of moments, I saw Tim’s breathing even. I listened once again he was still wheezing but it was better than the stridor. Without wasting another minute I rested my hands against Tim’s chest. I ignored the remnants of gas that burned my hands. It took hours but I healed Tim completely. He still was in a deep sleep by the time I was done. His body needed rest. I patched up Bruce and Dick since they also got exposed.

I felt sweat dripping down my back when I was done with everyone.

“Here,” Dick said, handing me water, “drink this you look a little gray.”

I nodded and gripped the water. I winced, forgetting that I burned my hands. It wasn’t as bad as Tim’s by any means but the burns were second-degree and hurt like a bitch.

Dick saw my wince and looked at my hands, “Oh shit! We should wash those off!”

“No shit Grayson.” A flat voice said from the distance. I recognized it instantly. Jason walked up to us, with supplies in his hands. He motioned for Dick to get up. He did and Jason took his spot.

“Let me see.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12

Thank you guys so much for the kind words I hope you all enjoy it. If there is anything you would like to see with Jason in particular comment below.

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